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Buck's spent much of his life searching for home. Or at least the feeling of home. A place he can belong. That he can just exist and have people who love him for who he is. He's craved the day when he wouldn't have to fight so hard to be enough.
It's not until he's at the Diaz's one night, sitting between Eddie and Christopher on the couch like he's done so many times before, that it hits him. He looks down at where Christopher has fallen asleep with his head on Buck's shoulder, and he's hit with the overwhelming feeling of the rightness of the moment.
He's spent so long searching for his home, and he found it years ago. Right here with Eddie and Christopher.
He looks over at Eddie when he feels his hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
Buck tilts his head, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"You're crying," Eddie tells him.
Buck reaches up, wiping a hand underneath his eyes. It's wet, just as Eddie said. Buck chuckles and covers Eddie's hand with his own. "I'm not sad. I'm happy."
"Yeah?"
Buck nods, "Yeah, I am. I just…"
"What is it?"
"I spent so long searching for home," Buck admits. "And I didn't have to. Not since I met you. You've always felt like home. You and Christopher."
Eddie smiles, one of Buck's favorite soft smiles. "You're our home too, Buck. And you'll always have a home here with us."
"I want to hug you so bad right now, but I also don't want to wake Christopher."
Eddie chuckles and scoots closer on the couch. One arm slips around Buck's waist while the other moves up to his cheek. His smile is fond as he gazes at him. "How's this?"
"Better," Buck says, leaning into Eddie's touch. "Much better."
When Eddie leans in and kisses him softly, something in Buck settles. That final piece he's been looking for clicks into place.