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“Hey, Eds?” Buck looks around the restaurant, feeling confused and, if he must be completely honest, a bit paranoid. The set up is nice. No, it’s more than nice. It’s low lit with sparkling lights covering the ceiling. A few candles around the tables. He has a feeling he might’ve misinterpreted Eddie a few days ago when he said they were going to get something to eat together on Friday.
“What is it, Buck?”
Buck lowers his eyes to the table and takes a deep breath. “Look, I may be going insane here, but, are we-- like, you know, on a date right now? I mean, I’m kinda confused, so if you could somehow clarify the situation?” He looks up but the second he meets Eddies’ eyes he looks down at the table again, bouncing his leg up and down. “Oh, God, I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I? But listen, I’m not saying I wouldn’t love it if this was to be a date, but I don’t know if that’s what you meant? Is it? I mean... What you meant? Am I misinterpreting your, let’s say, intentions?” Buck chuckles, expecting to hear some sort of mocking from Eddie and yet there’s silence beside the low murmuring of the rest of the people talking. He fumbles with the pages of the menu. ”Fuck, I sound like a damsel in distress.” Buck groans and rubs his face with his hands. He stops himself and looks at Eddie who is smiling fondly at him, not even trying to interrupt the insane rambling that was going on right in front of him, so Buck plows on. “Hmmm. Because if it isn’t a date then it’s all good, you know? I wouldn’t mind either way. I think I just-- I’m misinterpreting this, right? Like I’d love it if it were a date, but I get it if you don’t feel-- whatever. Forget it. It’s not like-- I don’t mind, either way. Ok, I’m rambling, I’m gonna stop now so you can answer, ok?” Buck feels himself spinning out of control, the seconds ticking away slowly. It's torture.
Suddenly, a foot is tapping on his ankle.
“Look at me, Buck?” Eddie chuckles, “I don’t bite?”
Buck sighs in relief and looks up to Eddie, who’s staring at him with a look Buck can’t place. “Ok.”
“Ok. First, I think yes, maybe. Maybe this is a date.” Buck perks up at the answer and opens his mouth. “But before you start rambling again, please let me say a few things?” His foot is again tapping on Buck’s ankle and Buck closes his mouth and nods curtly. “It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t supposed to be a date, I guess. But-” Eddie can see the waiter approaching their table and stops himself.
As the waiter walks up to them, Eddie looks at Buck with a gentle smile.
“Gentleman, are you ready to order?”
“I want the steak. Buck?” Eddie says, too quickly, leaving no doubt on Buck's mind that he wants the waiter gone as fast as possible and he relaxes at the thought.
“Hmmm, salmon with couscous, please. Also a beer?”
“Make that two beers, whatever you have on tap.” Eddie beams at Buck.
“Great, guys, I’ll be here shortly with the beers.”
After the waiter walks away, Eddie sighs. “As I was saying, it wasn’t supposed to be a date. But I think it is. I think maybe we didn’t-- well, no, I didn’t know before. Before this week. Before everything happened. Before the trainwreck and Ab--” Buck shuffles on his seat and Eddie interrupts himself. “So before, I think I knew, or well, no, I suspected something was up between us, but I didn't know, you know? And then she showed up and I was-- I started to worry. For you. And for me. But mostly for us. So I arranged this dinner and I wasn't planning anything special, but I sort of was? I was nervous and it took me two days to select a restaurant, and then it took me three hours to choose a shirt. But, ok, now I'm rambling and it’s not as cute as when you do it. So yeah, it’s a date? I guess? If we want it to be a date, then yes, it’s a date.”
“Good.” Buck puts a hand over the table, reaching over, and then a warm hand meets him in the middle.
“Good.”