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It starts a week after his breakup with Ana. It’s a Thursday, but A-crew is currently on their day off, so Eddie is left up to his own devices at home while Christopher has the time of his life in school.
He’s working on some areas of cleaning that he’s been putting off for ages. Things like dusting and reorganizing the pantry that he’s prone to only do once a year if he’s not careful. A single knock falls on the front door. Eddie’s not expecting anyone over today (Buck is spending time with Taylor, and Eddie is going to very pointedly ignore how irksome that feels), and so he jerks in surprise and whacks the back of his head on the inside of the cabinet where he’d been rearranging his canned vegetables.
As he was lining up the array of non-perishables into their respective categories, Eddie had been stupidly fantasizing about how pleased Buck might be with him the next time he comes over and cooks dinner and finds the pantry all neat and orderly. It’s usually his favorite thing to complain about, but he always does it with a hint of fondness in his voice: “Why are the petite diced tomatoes hidden amongst the syruped pears, Eddie?” As if the fact that Eddie’s canned goods are in an eternally dismal state of disarray is both one of Buck’s favorite and least favorite things about him. Still, he thinks Buck will be impressed with the work he’s done today. He might even praise him a little, make a show of examining the inner contours of the cupboards and then giving Eddie one of those long whistles. And Eddie will roll his eyes, but his cheeks will go all rosy, and he’ll have to bite his lip to suppress a satisfied smile.
Now though, all this fantasizing has been interrupted by the throbbing on the back of his skull and the confusion at who might have knocked on his door. He rubs against his scalp as he walks through to the entryway and opens the door up, expecting a person to be standing there. Instead, he finds a package on the welcome mat. Nothing huge like the coffee maker from hell, but the memory of that prank has Eddie’s suspicion already up. The address label has his name on it, so he knows it wasn’t misdelivered to the wrong house. He takes it inside and examines the box for probably an unreasonable amount of time.
Eventually, he gathers enough courage to cut open what could very well be some sort of booby trap. However, what he finds folded within the cardboard is the softest hoodie Eddie has ever felt, and the phrase “Going to therapy is cool!” printed on the front in colorful lettering.
Eddie grimaces and pulls his phone out of the back pocket of his chore-day jeans. It only rings once before his best friend picks up on the other end.
“What the hell, Buck?”
“What did I do now?” Buck asks, sounding slightly amused but also indignant, like he really doesn’t even remember what he’s done.
“I tell you I’m having reservations about going to therapy again, and you send me a damn hoodie that says this on it?”
“Oh! It arrived then?”
“Yes, it arrived,” Eddie grumbles, “care to explain why you bought it for me, exactly?”
“Well, I was up at like four in the morning one night, and I was browsing this website that has all these positive sayings on them, and I’ve already bought one for myself, and it was so soft that I thought you might like to have one too. I really didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie. I just know you love to wear hoodies, and it’s incredibly soft material. I can send it back if you don’t like it.”
Eddie feels a bit speechless. He initially thought Buck had taken his hesitancy about therapy and turned it into some insensitive joke, but that’s not what this is at all.
“Does yours say the same thing as mine? Are you wanting us to wear them together or something?”
Buck chuckles. “No. Mine says, ‘You are enough’ because sometimes I need the reminder, you know? I don’t usually wear it out in public, but when I’m at home doing chores or whatever, I’ll put it on, and every time I get a glimpse of the words, it helps to make me actually believe them.”
Eddie’s heart breaks a little at the admission, at the thought that Buck has to doubt whether or not he is actually enough. Eddie makes a mental note to start reminding him more often that he very much in fact is enough, and that way Buck won’t have to rely on his sweatshirt so much.
“So, you’re trying to trick me into thinking therapy is cool?” Eddie asks playfully.
“It is cool, Eddie,” Buck argues back in good nature, “and I think you’ll find that the more you remind yourself of that, the more truthful it will feel.”
“It is pretty soft,” Eddie finally concedes as he rubs the edge of one of the sleeves through his fingers.
“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. I just thought it might make you feel better.”
A lump is forming in Eddie’s throat, and his eyes grow a little misty. He’s fortunate that this is only a voice call and Buck can’t see how emotional this gesture is making him.
“No, it’s… I actually really love it, Buck. Thank you.”
He can’t see Buck’s face, but Eddie just knows that he’s doing that pleased little smile right now and batting his eyelashes.
“I’m glad. Maybe we can both wear them on movie nights or something. Start a new tradition.”
“If that’s the case, then you know you’re going to have to get one for Chris too. He’ll be bummed if he’s left out of any new tradition.”
“Don’t worry, I’m on it,” Buck assures him, and they end their call soon after so that Buck can get ready for his date with Taylor.
Eddie pulls the new hoodie on over his tank top and goes back to organizing the pantry, all while wearing the biggest grin on his face.
***
It’s the next Friday when Buck shows up at the Diaz’s house for a bi-weekly movie night. He’s got his usual 6-pack of beer in one hand, but in the other, he’s carrying a package that’s clearly already been opened.
“Is that Christopher’s hoodie?” Eddie inquires as he leads Buck through to the kitchen where an assortment of different pizzas is arranged on the table. There’s enough that they’ll be eating leftovers for a week. Chris doesn’t mind, and Eddie really doesn’t mind if it means he won’t have to cook.
“Yeah. I opened it up to check and make sure it was the right size. I was worried, but after getting a good look at it, I think it will fit.”
Buck places the beer into the fridge and then sits the box down on the counter and pulls out a hoodie. It reads, “It’s OK to ask for help,” and there’s a cartoon doodle of a cat right next to the text.
“That’s adorable. He’s going to love it.”
“I hope so,” Buck tells him, and then, “I got you something too.”
Eddie glances down at the hoodie he’s already wearing, the same one that Buck sent him last week, and then he looks back up at Buck and tilts his head in question. “But I already have one…?”
“I know. But I just thought you might like to have a spare in case you spill something on that one, or if it starts to stink from your general,” Buck gestures at Eddie humorously, “funk you’ve got going on.”
Eddie’s eyebrows fly up in mock outrage. “Excuse me?! I do not have any sort funk going on, ever.” He points a finger sharply into Buck’s chest muscles for emphasis. “You’re the one that smelled like a septic tank for a month after that one dumb call we went on.”
“It’s not my fault Bobby always makes me do the gross rescues,” Buck groans in exasperation.
Eddie merely laughs and starts munching on a slice of Italian sausage pizza he’s grabbed from the table.
“Anyway,” Buck says as he digs in the cardboard box again, “here’s the sweatshirt I got you.”
He holds it up for Eddie to read the words of affirmation. “If you can’t make it yourself, store bought is fine.”
“Okay, now you’re definitely making fun of me.”
“What?! No, I’m not!”
“I thought these were supposed to make us feel better about ourselves. This one just reminds me what a shit cook I am, Buck.”
“But it’s saying it’s fine to not cook! It’s reminding you that it’s okay to just buy it from the store or order in.”
Eddie remains skeptical, but it is a little bit funny to him, plus he loves the first sweatshirt and can’t deny how happy he is to have another in his rotation.
He takes it from Buck’s hand, playing up his indignation a bit, but still unable to control the sappy smile that consumes his face. “From now on, you have to cook us dinner anytime I’m wearing this.”
Buck gazes at him for a long while with such delight in his blue eyes. “Sure. Anything you want, Eds.”
“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie replies and then has to take off like a coward to his son’s bedroom because there seemed to be way too much charged energy going on in the kitchen.
***
After Buck breaks up with Taylor, he comes to be at the Diaz house constantly. Almost as often as when he was helping Eddie recover from the shooting and was crashing on the couch. Eddie starts to wonder why Buck even wastes money on rent at his apartment anymore, but he lets the matter go unspoken, not wanting to make Buck uncomfortable about it in any way. He’s just happy to have Buck here as much as he does, and he’s afraid to ruin that by doing something dumb like asking him to officially move in.
Their laundry is in a constant state of being all mixed together. They take turns with the folding, but when they’re both busy with work or have a lot going on, Carla sometimes pitches in to help with cleaning up and putting away their clothes. This is how Buck’s “You are enough” sweatshirt ends up in Eddie’s drawer, and it’s on a night when Buck is visiting his niece that Eddie finds it there. He can’t fight the desire that possesses him to pull it on over his head. It thoroughly musses up his hair in the process, but he doesn’t care, and once the sweatshirt is hanging off him, a couple sizes too large, Eddie is immeasurably content. It has nothing to do with the words on the front and everything to do with the fact that despite it having been washed, it still smells like Buck somehow.
He allows himself a small window of time to wear it while Buck is away, and then he plans to carefully put it neatly into Buck’s designated drawer. Christopher is already in bed, so Eddie cuddles up on the couch alone under a blanket, cozy and warm in Buck’s clothing. He puts a good episode of Schitt’s Creek and promptly falls asleep.
Eddie wakes some unknown time later to the sight of Buck sitting on the floor in front of him and just staring fondly. “Didn’t take you for a thief, Eds.”
It takes Eddie’s drowsy brain a moment to figure out what Buck is referring to.
“It was in my drawer,” he eventually defends.
“Probably because you put it there.”
“No. It was Carla. She put our clothes away when we had to work overtime earlier this week.”
“Still. You could have just moved it to my drawer.”
Eddie closes his eyes for a few seconds, unable to look at Buck’s expressive face as he confesses this. “I didn’t want to. I wanted to wear it.”
He’s afraid Buck will interrogate him on the matter, ask exactly why Eddie would want to wear Buck’s hoodie over one of his own.
Instead, he reaches his hand out and rubs it along Eddie’s covered forearm soothingly. “Okay,” he says simply, as if his best friend wanting to wear his clothes for comfort isn’t strange at all.
“You can wear mine too, if you want…” Eddie starts to offer and then immediately feels like an idiot, “I just mean, like if I’m hogging yours or it’s dirty or whatever. It wouldn’t bother me if you wore one of mine.”
Buck gazes at him in such a way that sets Eddie entirely at ease. It’s a look that he’s been yearning to receive from someone, anyone, for probably his entire life. It’s open and earnest, enraptured and affectionate. It is blatant love, right there so clear in Buck’s crystal eyes. And he’s not sure which kind of love Buck is feeling for him, but he doesn’t really care to know right now. He merely scooches over on the couch, and they snuggle together as more episodes of Eddie’s favorite show play on the TV.
***
It becomes no longer a matter of Eddie borrowing Buck’s hoodies or Buck borrowing his. Rather, they end up sharing all of them, as if they’ve agreed to joint-custody in court over these soft and affirming articles of clothing.
And Buck starts ordering more of them, always a couple sizes too big for Eddie, but he likes them that way. Buck will come home happily and say, “Hey I bought us a new sweatshirt.” He always says us now. Like they are tied together in all things. Like it would be unimaginable to even consider one of them owning something that they couldn’t share with the other.
There’s a grand total of ten of them now. They’ve got their own designated drawer.
Do no harm, take no shit.
Inhale courage, exhale fear.
Mental health is health.
It’s OK to not be OK all the time.
Be kind to yourself.
You can do hard things.
What if it all works out?
The thing is, Eddie isn’t sure if it’s the constant reassurances from the words on the hoodies that are improving his mood, or if it’s this blissful space he’s settled into with Buck. One in which they both seem to have these strong, unspoken feelings between them, but they’re both perfectly content to let them remain silent for now. To wait until a time when it feels easier and more comfortable for them to just confess it all to each other.
Eddie’s doing regular therapy, and while he still wouldn’t describe it as cool, he no longer loathes it with every fiber of his being. So that’s progress. He’s also not having panic attacks anymore, which is great.
***
It all comes to a head at Bobby and Athena’s next family gathering. Honestly, Eddie has grown so used to the three of them all wearing their sweatshirts when they’re at home together, that he really doesn’t even think anything of it when they all show up to the Grant-Nash household practically matching.
Athena instantly raises her eyebrows in curiosity as she opens the door for them and takes in the ridiculous picture they must create. Eddie glances at all their hoodies in horror, only now realizing their mistake. They look like one of those dorky families who wear matching t-shirts when they do trips to amusement parks. Dios. Hen and Chim are never going to let them live this down.
“Awe,” Hen coos mockingly from behind Athena, “aren’t y’all just adorable. All matchy-matchy.”
“When’s the wedding, Buck?” Chimney chimes in as soon as they make their way down the stairs to Athena’s living room.
“What wedding?” Christopher asks seriously. Eddie shoots a glare at their friend to get him to shut up.
Buck crouches down to meet Chris’ eye level. “Don’t listen to anything Uncle Chim has to say, okay? He just talks nonsense 24/7.”
Christopher seems to take this advice to heart, smiling at Buck and then pointedly going off to play with the other kids without another comment toward Chimney.
“What’s with the sweatshirts though?” Maddie asks her brother. “I think everyone here is genuinely curious.”
Buck shrugs. “They’re our favorite sweatshirts. We wear them all the time at home.”
“Your home? Or Eddie’s home?” Karen asks, and really she’s been spending too much time with her wife because it’s clear that the question is very pointed and has a heap of implications within it.
Buck glances at Eddie then, searching his face intently for a sign. Eddie can only offer it by slightly crooking the edges of this mouth up into a small smile.
“Our home,” Buck tells them, and it feels like a weight off both their chests. To have it finally be spoken, what they mean to each other. It’s not exactly a confession, but it’s a declaration on both their parts that they are very much willing to be lumped together as one family unit.
***
“Eddie! Please tell me we have canned green chilis!” Buck calls from the kitchen. Eddie grins to himself from where he sits on the couch, watching an animated Marvel show with Christopher in which all the superheroes have become zombies.
He remains quiet, not bothering to even acknowledge Buck’s shouts of despair about the canned vegetables. He knows what will come in mere moments. He waits patiently.
And then, “Babe, I love you and all,” Buck begins as he comes into the living room holding the can of chilis he was searching for all this time, “but your pantry organization is minimal at best. I mean, the chilis with the pie filling. Really, Eds?”
Eddie stands from the couch then and goes over to where Buck stands in the doorway. As he snakes his arms around Buck’s waist and leans in close to his lips, he mutters, “Maybe I just like seeing you all worked up about it.”
“Or you like letting it get such a mess so that when you do finally organize it, I’ll be so relieved and willing to offer you infinite praise and reward.”
Eddie hums. “That too.”
They share a lingering kiss, but it’s not too heated with Christopher right there on the couch.
“Hey,” he whispers against Buck’s lips, “you are enough.”
Eddie has made a point to tell him that every single day since they made things official and slept together the night after Athena’s party, confessing their feelings between suffocating kisses and a warm, endless embrace.
“I know,” Buck promises, “you’re enough too, Eds.” He runs his finger down Eddie’s chest, pointing to the words that are printed there. “My sweatshirt even says so.”
“Our sweatshirt,” Eddie argues.
They kiss some more until Buck eventually has to pull away to finish cooking dinner. Maybe it will all work out. Eddie’s more sure of it now than ever.