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"Be good," Eddie tells his son and presses a quick kiss into Christopher's hair.
"I'm always good," Christopher says. "Right, Buck?"
"Sure, buddy," Buck smirks.
Eddie pats down the pockets of his jacket and jeans and groans. "Why are the keys always missing when I'm already late?"
"Murphy's law," Buck quips. "I'll help you find them. Where did you put them when you came home?"
"If I knew, I would look there," Eddie all but growls. He hates being late. Especially to therapy. It's always better when he has a few minutes to get into the right headspace before the session starts.
"Hey, calm down, tiger. They must be here somewhere."
Eddie nods at his friend and takes a deep breath before he goes to check yesterday's clothes in the hamper in his bedroom.
"Found them," Buck calls after a minute.
"You're the best," Eddie calls and runs to the door, where Buck is waiting, the keys dangling from his raised hand.
"Thanks, babe," Eddie says, grabs the keys and presses a peck on Buck's lips. The door has already fallen close and Eddie is halfway to his car when he realises what just happened.
He stops in his tracks, panic making his heart beat faster as he looks back, frozen to the spot.
Should he go back and apologise? Should he ignore it and hope that Buck will, too? None of the options sits right with him, and so he chooses number three and ignores it for the time being. He has an appointment with Frank, after all. Which he is already running late for.
Dammit!
He jumps into his car, and by the grace of a god he doesn't believe in, the L.A. traffic is merciful, and he arrives only two minutes late.
He slams down onto the armchair and glances at his therapist.
"What did you bring today?" Frank asks.
Eddie shrugs and purses his lips. "Nothing. I'm good."
Frank gives him one of his infuriating barely-there smiles. "Are you sure? You're fidgeting."
Eddie immediately stops his leg from bobbing and spreads his fingers over the fabric of his jeans to keep them away from the hem of his shirt. He swallows hard. Maybe he does have something therapy-worthy to talk about. Like the fact that he just kissed his best friend and called him 'babe', for fuck's sake.
He presses his palms against his eyes and breathes a sigh. Here goes nothing.
"I," Eddie croaks. "I kissed Buck on my way out."
"Your colleague?"
"My best friend. He's watching Chris, I… I don't know why I did it. I was running late, and he helped me find my keys, and then he was there, and it just happened," Eddie rambles. He breathes out raggedly and runs a hand over his mouth, his fingers lingering on his lips for a long moment.
"I just kissed my best friend," he whispers.
"And what does this make you feel?" Frank asks.
Eddie huffs a laugh. "I'm… embarrassed."
"Because it happened or…?"
Eddie furrows his brow. Good question.
"I honestly don't know. I mean… I've never kissed a guy, and this is Buck."
"You mentioned him a few times. You two seemed to be close."
That's one way to put it.
"He's become part of my family. He'd take Chris if something were to happen to me."
"Sounds serious."
Eddie shrugs. "It's Buck. I can trust him with my kid. He loves Christopher so much." Eddie smiles. "He has such a good way with kids. And he just… fits. I don't need to say much. He gets me, I suppose."
"So, let me sum that up for you. Buck is your best friend. He must be a dependable constant in your life, otherwise, you wouldn't have put him in as a guardian for your son. He takes care of Christopher when you need to be somewhere else, and you kissed him when you left like a husband might kiss his husband goodbye. Did I get it right?"
Eddie buries his face in his hands and groans, "I called him 'babe'." He huffs a mirthless laugh. "Dios! How do I get out of this?"
"Do you want to get out of it?" Frank asks. His calm voice rubs Eddie the wrong way.
"Of course," he grinds out. "I'm not—" he trails off. What if he does not want to get out of this?
He slumps into the armchair, forehead creased in thought.
"I… I lost so many people in my life," Eddie murmurs. "I'm trying not to get too attached."
"But you got attached to Buck," Frank says. It isn't even a question.
"He somehow wormed himself into our life," Eddie huffs. "And he's… He's so afraid of being left. He hasn't a good track record, relationship-wise, you know? I thought maybe… maybe me and Chris, we could be the ones who finally stayed." He runs his hand through his hair. "Am I in love with Buck?" he asks. The question sounds ridiculous. He would know if he fell in love with someone, right? He knew with Shannon. But he was so young back then.
"You seem to love him, Eddie. The question is: Of what nature is this love? There are people building their lives together in a chosen family style. Others have queerplatonic relationships that look pretty much like romantic relationships from the outside but are based on a platonic connection of the partners. Does any of that resonate with you?"
Eddie exhales slowly. Both sound possible, even desirable.
"Yeah," he breathes.
"Maybe you should talk about it with Buck, then," Frank suggests.
Eddie nods. He can do that.
***
Eddie takes a deep breath before he slides the key into the lock and opens the door to his home. He walks into the apartment, hearing the television playing in the living room. He follows the sound, and the sight that awaits him makes his heart clench tightly with emotions.
Buck smiles at him from the sofa, Christopher's head lying in his lap, his glasses carefully set to the side. Chris snores quietly, fully at peace cuddled against Buck. Eddie has seen the two like this before, but this time is different. His heart feels as if it's overflowing and whatever fills it presses tears into his eyes, threatens to spill into the space between him and the two most important people in his life.
"Hey," Buck says quietly. Eddie nods in acknowledgement, too worried that he might blurt out something half-baked, not fully formed. "How was therapy?"
"Good," Eddie croaks. "Gave me much food for thought."
Buck is still smiling, and Eddie can't help but huff a laugh to let out the nervous energy building up in his body. This is getting ridiculous.
He gestures to the kitchen. "Gonna make dinner. For three?" he asks, sounding longing to his own ears.
"Sure," Buck says. "I just finish the episode."
Eddie looks at the freeze frame on the TV. "What's that?" he asks.
"A cool new Netflix show. 'Dead End'. Hen recommended it. It's pretty queer," Buck smirks, and Eddie suddenly forgets how to breathe. He nods, avoiding Buck's eyes, and turns, his feet carrying him into the kitchen on autopilot.
He starts boiling water for the pasta and decides to go for a simple Alfredo sauce with the already grated cheese sitting in the fridge.
This dinner is hardly any work to cook, so he pulls out his phone and puts 'queerplatonic relationship' into the search bar of his browser. He reads through the Wikipedia page until the sound of someone clearing his throat pulls his eyes from the screen.
"Everything alright?" Buck asks, frowning at the panic playing out on Eddie's face before he can school it. Eddie puts the phone face down on the worktop and puts the cheese into the already simmering butter/cream mixture.
"I just had to research something. Homework from Frank, kinda."
"Cool," Buck says and collects plates and cutlery before leaving the kitchen to set the table. Eddie follows his every move with his eyes until he's out of sight. Buck fits so perfectly in here, moves as if it were his home and not just his friend's he's visiting.
Would he want Buck to be here 24/7? Would Buck want something like this? Likely not. The breakup with Taylor took him hard, even though he was the one to end it. But there will be a new flame, sooner or later. The thought ties Eddie's stomach in knots for some reason.
He brushes a hand over his face and steers the sauce until the pasta timer goes off on his phone. He sighs. Why did Frank have to put this bug in his ear? Yes, Buck is family. What kind of family, Eddie never asked himself. A close cousin? A brother?
Brothers aren't jealous of fictional future sisters-in-law. He wasn't jealous of Taylor, though. They never got close but she seemed to make Buck happy for a while, and Eddie was happy for them because she did.
Eddie burns himself while draining off the pasta. He curses and lets the pot fall into the colander. When he looks up, Buck's hand is already on the tap for cold water. Eddie quirks a smile and holds his burning hand under the spray.
"I'll wake up Christopher," Buck says and squeezes Eddie's shoulder. It feels cold when Buck's hand disappears, deserted.
"Get a grip on yourself, Diaz," Eddie hisses to himself when Buck is out of earshot.
***
Dinner is a quiet affair. They talk about this and that. 'A family at the dinner table,' Eddie thinks. He can't unsee what they're doing here, now that his focus is narrowed down on whatever this is.
"I'll do the dishes," Buck says when they're finished. Eddie nods. Of course, he does. Like every single time that Eddie invites him for dinner.
It's how he finds Buck after tucking Christopher in. Eddie leans against the fridge and watches his friend. He can't help it. He needs to with a physical urge, needs to look at Buck through new eyes.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Buck teases. Eddie feels the heat shooting into his cheeks. He was sure he was subtle.
"Sorry," he murmurs and looks at the wall instead. Buck leans against the sink and chuckles softly.
"What was today's session about?" he asks, something unspoken lingering underneath.
Eddie worries his lip. "Re-relationships, friendship. Stuff like that."
Buck makes a noncommital sound of acknowledgement. "Stuff like that," he repeats.
"Yeah. Did you know that there are couples who aren't romantically in love but still live in a committed relationship?" Eddie blurts out. Way to break the topic.
Buck furrows his brow. "Huh," he says.
"Yeah, like living together, raising kids and stuff."
"And stuff," Buck repeats and takes the tea towel, drying his hands on it and fidgeting with the label sewn on it.
Eddie wets his lips. "Yeah," he croaks.
"Just like that? Do they share a bed, hold hands… kiss?"
Eddie's mouth is suddenly desert dry. He grabs two beers from the fridge and opens them.
"Not sure. Maybe," he presses out, cheeks burning with a vengeance. He opens the bottles and sets one in front of Buck. Then he takes a slug to buy himself some time. "I guess that's something to discuss before starting a queerplatonic relationship."
Buck snorts a half-hearted laugh. "Can you imagine that? Building a life with someone you're not in love with?" he asks. The question sticks a knife into Eddie's chest, twisting slowly. It shouldn't hurt this much, the subtext of 'I can't'.
"Romance dies over time," Eddie says nonchalantly. "I guess after a few years it's not that different to be together either way."
"Yeah, but, the sex. I mean… That's important, man, right?"
Eddie furrows his brow. Sex has never been that important to him. Sure, it's nice with the right person, but he doesn't miss it while being single. Buck, on the other hand… Yeah, he can see how this might be a problem, even with Buck 2.0. But the article said that QPRs can be sexual if both partners want it.
"I guess," Eddie replies. He shouldn't have put the topic on the table.
"It's nice to get a goodbye kiss, though," Buck says, a quiet smile in his voice and on his lips. He glances at Eddie.
Here they go.
"Listen, Buck, I… I'm sorry," Eddie says, nervously picking on the label of his beer bottle. "I don't know what got into me."
"Is this something you would want?" Buck asks. "A queer… What was it called?"
"Queerplatonic relationships."
Buck smiles, and it's so warm yet cautious, that it makes Eddie's stomach pull tight. Buck raises a questioning eyebrow, waiting.
Eddie exhales sharply. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean… It doesn't sound too bad: parenting Chris with someone, having someone to talk to by day, maybe cuddle at night."
Buck's smile is slowly growing, and his eyes glaze over. It takes a long moment before he blinks himself out of it and resumes drying the dishes.
"Sounds nice. But what if one falls in love with the other person and the partner doesn't? Wouldn't that be awkward?"
Eddie takes another slug of his beer. "I guess. Unless there's open communication about it. I suppose that's a given. I'm not an expert."
Buck nods and dries two more plates before he looks at Eddie again.
"Do you have someone in mind for something like that?" he asks, his voice cracking even more than usual.
Eddie chokes on his own saliva, and it takes some hearty pats on his back to stop coughing.
"I… um…" Ah, fuck it! "You, actually. You're family but it's not like with Adriana or Sophia, so you're not like a brother to me. And the word 'friend' doesn't seem to capture who you are to…" Eddie trails off for a moment, "us."
Buck nods, smiling, happy as a clam. "Yeah. But maybe because we didn't grow up together."
"Possible, sure," Eddie says. This conversation is awkward. Is Buck contemplating this for real? Surely not.
"I liked it," Buck says. Eddie looks at him, not daring to speak. "The kiss, I mean. You calling me 'babe'." Buck gazes at Eddie, open, vulnerable, and still steadfast somehow. He looks like everything Eddie ever wanted.
"You did?" Eddie asks, his lips twitching into a smile of their own accord.
"I wouldn't mind."
Buck doesn't continue. He shakes his head and returns to the dishes.
"Wouldn't mind what?" Eddie asks, breathless.
"Raising Chris with you, living here." Buck furrows his brow. "A good cuddle, now and then." He shrugs as if the words hadn't been powerful enough to punch the air out of Eddie's lungs and make his heart beat violently in his chest.
"You're not making fun of me?"
Buck slowly shakes his head no. "But… there would be rules, right?" he asks cautiously.
"Sure. Whatever we need to make this work," Eddie says, his face hurting from the wide grin he's too weak to fight. He hadn't known how much he wanted this with Buck, and only Buck, until this very minute.
'I love him,' Eddie realises. 'I friggin' love him.' It's the most terrifying thought Eddie has had in a long time. Because he loves Buck, but not platonically.
"Stuff like… no other partners?" Buck asks, and there is a glint of something akin to hope flashing in his eyes. It throws Eddie for a loop.
"You'd want to be exclusive?"
"Well, I guess it would be easier. With Chris, you know. If he didn't have to worry about us breaking up because one falls in love."
Eddie blinks a few times, processing the possibility of Buck being his, forever. As a partner, not a lover. Would it be enough? Eddie isn't sure. He wouldn't want to take away things that are important to Buck, things he doesn't want from Eddie.
"Well, you might need a roll in the hay, now and then, right?" Eddie asks. He doesn't want to hear the answer. Not really. But it's the right thing to ask. And Edmundo Diaz always does the right thing, even if he hurts himself in the process.
Buck shrugs nonchalantly but the movement looks too tense for it to be real.
"And you, Eds?"
"I only ever do it in relationships," he says. He doesn't need to act all macho for Buck. Who cares that he can count his past lovers on one hand, not even needing all fingers?
"Yeah. I think I'm over the casual sex phase for good," Buck states.
"So, no sex for the rest of your life?" Eddie chuckles. This conversation is surreal.
"I have two healthy hands," Buck quips.
Eddie's eyes fall on them, and he can't help it. He reaches out. Buck doesn't pull away when he interlaces them.
"Are we really doing this?" Buck croaks.
Eddie shrugs, the corners of his lips twitching. "I would love for you to move in with us."
Us. As if Buck's awesome relationship with his son wasn't the cherry on top of theirs but part of the deal. 'You're a coward, Diaz,' Eddie thinks.
"But I guess…" Eddie wets his lips. "I guess you should know that I'm…"
Eddie's brain yells at him to shut up, to take what Buck is offering him and run with it. Better a QPR than no intimate relationship at all. It's just as valuable, just as committed, just as filled with love and devotion as romantic relationships. It'll take some time to get used to, but time is what they seem to have on offer for once. No, he won't wreck this before it even started. But he needs to say something.
"I think I'd like to make kissing part of the relationship. If that's not too weird for you, of course," Eddie backpedals as soon as he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Figures. Platonic kissing. Is that really a thing? Maybe for other people but Eddie is a romantic at heart. Which makes the next thing that happens a beautiful but also messed-up event.
Buck raises his hand and cradles Eddie's cheek. He runs his thumb slowly over the scruff. He smiles softly, his eyes flickering between Eddie's eyes and lips. Eddie forgets how to breathe, but who needs air when Evan Buckley looks at you as if you were his whole world?
Buck leans in, their lips brushing tenderly first until Eddie curls his fingers around Buck's wrist. Buck pulls back slightly, studying Eddie's face before closing his eyes and kissing Eddie in earnest.
Eddie pulls him in by the waist, soaking in the closeness and tenderness until he feels like drowning in a sea of longing and unrequited love. He pulls back minutely.
"Stop, Evan, stop," he whispers, their lips mere millimetres apart. "I can't."
Buck clenches his jaw and nods, avoiding Eddie's eyes.
"I understand," he huffs out, sounding a little wounded. "You're not into men."
"I didn't say that," Eddie protests. Maybe, Buck is the exception to the rule or Eddie isn't as straight as he thought he was, but Buck being a man is not the problem here.
"I.. I…" Eddie shakes his head and rubs his burning eyes. He won't cry now. He absolutely won't. "I think we want different things from this, and I…" Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. He doesn't want to say the words. But he knows he has to. "For me, this isn't platonic, Buck. And I can live with that. But I think kissing should be off the table if we want this to work. And cuddling, too, I mean… if the whole thing is still something you want with me."
Buck stares at Eddie, flabbergasted, his mouth agape. It takes an agonisingly long moment until he grabs Eddie's face and kisses him again.
Eddie pushes him away.
"Didn't you hear what I just said?" he asks, his voice laced with anger and pain.
Buck isn't fazed by it. Not at all. He grins from ear to ear. "I heard every single word, babe." He wields the word like a sword. Eddie doesn't understand. His friend doesn't have a cruel bone in his body. Why is he doing this to him?
"Buck," he breathes. "Please, don't."
"Do what? Love you the way you deserve to be loved? Like I wanted to for such a long time, but was too scared to destroy our friendship?"
"You… What!?"
Buck presses Eddie gently against the kitchen cabinet and boxes him in with an arm on either side.
"I love you, dumbass."
Eddie opens his mouth and closes it again several times.
"Come again?"
Buck's smirk morphs into something soft and gentle.
"I love you, Edmundo Diaz. And while just a few moments ago, I thought being in a queerplatonic relationship with you would be the heights of my dreams, now that I know…" He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and gives Eddie a look that Eddie hopes will be his nemesis for the rest of their lives.
"I want it all with you," Buck says. "I'll fuck up as I usually do…" Eddie clicks his tongue in protest. "...but I promise to try to make you happy for as long as you'll have me."
Eddie pulls him flush to his body. "You have a way with words, babe."
"Have I?" Buck smirks. He tilts his head to the side. "I guess I have."
Eddie circles Buck's neck with his arms and leans their foreheads together.
"Until today, I wasn't even aware of how terribly in love I am with you," he breathes.
"Good," Buck says matter-of-factly.
"Why?" Eddie chuckles.
"Because pining for your best friend sucks big time."
Eddie throws his head back in laughter. "I can imagine. Sorry for not realising that either."
"I'm sure you can make up for it," Buck smirks and places a kiss on the tip of Eddie's nose.
Eddie presses his face against his boyfriend's neck, breathes in his scent, and feels the warmth of his skin.
"I promise I will, for as long as you'll have me."