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"Tent?"
"Check."
"Sleeping bags?"
"Check."
"Food?"
"Got it." Eddie carries over the cooler over to the truck, sliding it in beside the tent.
He turns, catching the twin expressions Buck and Chris are shooting him.
" What? "
God, they look so alike sometimes and it's ridiculous, because biologically there's no relation, but Chris has spent the last seven years picking up Buck's mannerisms even before Eddie started dating him.
"You’re supposed to say ‘check’," Chris tells him, looking over the list he and Buck had carefully planned out weeks ago. “You do this every time.”
And it’s true, so sue him because it’s as fun to stir up his son as it is his boyfriend. Eddie turns to Buck.
“What have you done to my kid?"
“I have shown him the way of the clipboard.” Buck turns to Chris. “Food is checked.”
“You’ve corrupted him.”
“Hey.” Buck spins to face Eddie. “One day a girl— or a boy, no judgement here— will see him checking off a list and think he looks very sexy.”
“Gross.” Chris’ expression is twisted into a look of pure disgust.
“Don’t knock it,” Buck tells him. “It’s how I got your dad to fall in love with me.”
“That is not true,” Eddie cuts in, rolling his eyes. He grabs the last two bags still sitting in the grass, packing them into the truck. “Do we really need all this stuff? We’re only going away for two nights.”
"It's called being prepared," Buck says, moving to look over Chris's shoulder. "You can check off camp chairs and flashlights."
"Okay, we’ve got everything," Chris declares handing over the list. "Can we go now? We're wasting daylight."
Eddie pulls a face as Buck shoots Chris a cheesy grin.
“You taught him that one too, didn’t you?”
“Well we are,” Buck says, ruffling Chris’s hair as he moves past to shut the tray on the back of Eddie's truck and check everything is secured. “Maybe if you didn’t sleep in all the time…” he trails off, laughing at the indignant look on Eddie’s face.
“Your inability to sleep past sunrise is not my problem,” Eddie says, poking Buck in the chest. It’s not that he sleeps late, it’s that Buck gets up at an ungodly time of morning and it had never been an issue until Buck started sleeping in Eddie’s bed.
He snags the keys hanging from Buck’s pocket and makes his way around the truck.
“I can drive,” Buck offers, following him. He holds his hand out for the keys. "I know you hate driving."
"I don't hate driving," Eddie tells him, clutching the keys tightly in his fist.
"Sure, which is why I always drive you to work."
“Driving is fine,” Eddie says, waving Buck away. “I hate driving in LA , it’s different. Anyway, this way you and Chris can plan out which activities we'll do this afternoon."
He watches, lips pressed together to keep from laughing as Buck and Chris look at each other.
“ Shotgun. ”
Eddie rolls his eyes and climbs in behind the steering wheel.
“And here I thought one teenager was bad enough.”
The traffic getting out of the city is slow moving, with half of Los Angeles likely doing the same as them and getting out for the long weekend.
Despite winning the shotgun, Buck spends the first thirty minutes of the drive through LA's stop-start traffic twisted in his seat so he can talk to Chris.
"Oh, listen to this." He has his phone in his hands, reading off the screen. "While exploring, watch out for coyotes, black bears, mountain lions, snakes, and other wildlife."
"Cool!" Chris has his phone out too, likely scrolling through the same website.
"No, not cool," Eddie cuts in. "If we see a bear, we're heading in the opposite direction."
“Of course Dad,” Chris says, but Eddie can see him in the rear view mirror grinning at Buck. “Hey, can we have a campfire?”
They’re about an hour into the drive when Buck goes quiet.
It’s sudden. One moment he’s chatting to Chris, the next he’s turning back around his seat and staring out the front windscreen.
Eddie glances across at him, lips twisting down in a frown. All the colour has drained out of Buck’s face as he’s pale and washed out.
"Hey, you okay?" He lays his free hand on Buck's thigh, giving it a squeeze when he doesn't immediately respond.
"Mmhmm." Buck gives the tiniest nod, his lips pressed together in a thin white line. "Just got a bit—" his voice cracks and fails.
"Do you need me to pull over?" They're still on the freeway, but there's an exit coming up that Eddie thinks will take them back into the suburbs.
Buck shakes his head. “No, I’m—” His throat bobs and he swallows convulsively. “I'm good. I just—"
His hand clenches and unclenches in his lap and Eddie reaches for it. It’s warm and clammy, but Buck squeezes Eddie's fingers and shoots him a grateful smile.
"Since when did you get car sick?" Eddie keeps his eyes on the road but doesn't miss Buck's scowl.
"I don't."
Eddie has to bite back a grin. It shouldn't be funny, Buck looks miserable but, "You're green.”
He's breathing shallowly through his nose, his gaze focused on some distant point ahead of them.
“Probably shouldn’t have been staring at my phone,” he mutters, tightening his grip on Eddie’s hand.
Making up his mind, Eddie merges into the exit lane. Once they’re off the freeway he turns into a Wendy’s parking lot and pulls into the furthest spot from the restaurant.
Buck’s out of the car before Eddie can cut the ignition.
They could be here for a while so he turns to Chris, nodding towards the restaurant.
“Uh, you hungry?”
Chris stares out the front windscreen. “Not anymore.”
Eddie laughs at the grossed out look on Chris’s face. “Okay, but I’m going to go check on Buck, so your options are wait here or…” He trails off, pulling a twenty dollar bill from his wallet.
“Want me to get you anything?” Chris asks, taking the money and climbing out of the car.
“Can you bring Buck back a Sprite?”
Chris nods, and disappears off towards the restaurant, his crutches flashing red in the sunlight.
Eddie grabs a water bottle from Buck’s backpack and he wanders over in the direction Buck had gone, finding him kneeling in the grass.
“Feeling better?” Eddie asks, handing over the water bottle.
“Yeah.” Buck takes a sip of water, swishes it around his mouth and spits it out. “Thanks.”
“I really didn’t know you got motion sickness,” Eddie says, offering a hand to pull Buck to his feet. “You should have said something, I would have let you drive.”
They wander back over to the car and sit on the curb waiting for Chris.
“ I didn’t know I got motion sickness,” Buck admits with a grin and there’s colour coming back into his face. “We never really went on many road trips when I was a kid and I do most of the driving these days because you hate it.” He knocks his shoulder into Eddie’s and it’s a good sign that he’s feeling better, still—
“I don’t hate driving.”
“You keep saying that, yet I’m the one who always ends up driving.”
“Yeah, because apparently you’ll recreate that scene from The Exorcist if you don’t,” Eddie teases.
“The what—”
“I know you know that movie,” Eddie tells him. “I’m not Chim, you can’t fool me with that game.” He spots Chris coming towards them and stands, brushing off his jeans. “You think you’re ready to go?”
“Yeah.” Buck stands, holding his hands out for the keys. “But I’m driving this time.”