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Buck would never, ever say this out loud, but the whole thing is kind of Christopher’s fault.
Apparently, eleven is the age when kids start wanting more independence and start finding their loving, devoted fathers to be “overbearing.” After a disastrous week where Chris went as far as to lie to Eddie about skipping science club to hang out with his friends instead, the two of them sit down and talk it out and they tentatively arrive at a solution. Eddie will try to give Christopher more space and more independence. And Chris promises to never lie to Eddie again.
Buck’s proud of both of them, even if it breaks his heart a little that Chris is growing out of wanting to go to the zoo every other weekend, and would rather spend Friday nights at the movies with his friends than playing video games on the couch with Buck and Eddie.
Chris is growing up and there’s really nothing for Buck and Eddie to do but get used to it.
There is, of course, another problem. With Chris spending more time out of the house, it leaves Eddie with a lot more free time. Free time that he invariable spends with Buck.
This, by itself, wouldn’t usually be a problem. Buck loves hanging out with Eddie. It’s one of his favorite ways to spend his time off, right after hanging out with Chris and Eddie. At any other time, Buck wouldn’t be bothered by Eddie dropping by unannounced or asking Buck to come over practically every night when they’re not on shift. In fact, normally, he’d be ecstatic.
It’s just that…right before the big blow up between Chris and Eddie, Buck realized something. In the midst of all his soul-searching and questioning The Point of It All, Buck came to the conclusion that he’s deeply, ridiculously, undeniably in love with his best friend. He’s been trying to hard to figure out what he wants, only to realize it’s been staring him in the face this whole time.
That realization would be a lot to deal with in any other circumstance. Right now, when Buck is spending practically every waking moment with Eddie, it’s completely overwhelming.
It’s just—he can’t get a break from it. When he’s at work, Eddie’s there, all focused and competent and catching Buck’s eye on particularly ridiculous calls with that knowing, twinkly look that makes Buck want to shove him up against the fire truck and kiss him. When they’re at home, and Eddie’s all loose and relaxed and sometimes silly the way he only gets with Chris and Buck, grinning over at Buck with that smile that makes Buck want to press him down onto the couch and kiss him.
Once, when Buck made the mistake of telling Eddie he had to babysit Jee-Yun and Eddie invited himself along, Buck almost did kiss him, right there in the middle of the tot playground at Roxbury Park. He stopped himself before he could really embarrass himself, and Eddie was so focused on Jee-Yun he didn’t seem to notice.
But the more time they spend together, the more sure Buck gets that he’s going to slip up and Eddie’s going to figure it all out. And then what?
Eddie would be kind about it. Of course he would. He’d let Buck down easy, tell him what a great friend he is, and then he’d very gently break Buck’s heart. And they’ll still be friends, they’ll still be Buck and Eddie, but it won’t be the same.
Eddie doesn’t need that right now. He’s already negotiating a change in his relationship with his son—he doesn’t need to deal with a change in his relationship with Buck on top of that.
Buck just—he needs a break. From Eddie. Just a short one, to get his feelings under control to keep them from spilling out of him.
Only, every time he tries to get out of another evening of pining away for a man sitting two feet away, Eddie hits him with the sad puppy eyes that Buck can’t ever, ever say no to. And Buck inevitably spends another evening basking in Eddie’s attention and trying desperately not to show said basking.
Eddie needs you right now, he tells himself. Just suck it up and be there for him.
Today they’re drinking beers on the loft balcony, killing time before Eddie has to go pick up Chris from an “after school hang out” (“not a playdate, Dad!”)
Eddie’s talking about the weekend, and how Chris has even more social events lined up—god that kid’s popular—and whether Buck wants to come over and cook Eddie dinner to distract him from how little his son seems to need him anymore.
Buck scratches at the back of his neck. “Um, I…I actually have plans on Saturday.”
“You do?” Eddie sounds more confused than anything else. Like it’s so out of the ordinary that Buck might have plans that Eddie doesn’t already know about. Like he’s so used to knowing Buck’s schedule this has really thrown him for a loop.
“Yeah, with…with Maddie,” Buck improvises.
“Oh,” Eddie says. “Right. Okay. Well, if you wanna come over after, we might be able to squeeze in an episode or two of Narcos.”
Eddie doesn’t even like Narcos. Not as much as Buck does, anyway.
“I can’t.” The words are out of Buck’s mouth before he’s really thought them through. They land with an abrupt thud between them.
“Okay,” Eddie says again, clearly taken aback. “No problem.”
“I just—I should probably, you know, get some stuff done around here,” Buck offers half-heartedly. “And we have a shift Sunday so I should probably get a good night’s sleep and—and all that.”
The more he talks, the more unconvincing he sounds.
Eddie takes a big swig of his beer, and when he’s done his expression is completely closed off. “Yeah. Of course. Another time, then.”
The silence between them is awkward in a way it never has been before, not even in those few weeks when Eddie was still freezing Buck out after the lawsuit. At least then, Buck had known what was wrong between them, even if he hadn’t entirely understood why Eddie was so pissed. But now, Eddie’s the one in the dark.
Buck closes his eyes for a brief moment. He knows it’s not really a big deal, knows Eddie will forget about it way before Buck does, but a part of him can’t stand the idea of Eddie thinking there’s anything Buck would rather do than spend time with him.
If Buck has feelings for Eddie, that’s his own problem. But he won’t—he refuses to let his feelings get in the way of being a good friend to him. He’ll figure out a way to get over him but he won’t hurt Eddie in the process. Even if it’s only a little hurt. Buck would rather rip his own chest open than let Eddie get nicked in the collateral damage of Buck’s heartbreak.
They finish their beers and Eddie starts to make nosies about leaving, and doesn’t even invite Buck to come pick up Chris and have dinner with them the way he normally would. It’s like he thinks Buck wants him to go, which—no. Of course he doesn’t. Buck wants him here, he always wants him here, or wants to be there, wherever Eddie is.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” Eddie says.
“Yeah,” Buck echoes faintly. “Um—say hi to Chris for me.”
Eddie opens his mouth, and Buck wills the invitation to slip out from his lips. Hey, you should come with me to pick him up. We can do pasta for dinner and you can help Chris with his science homework.
Instead, Eddie nods. “Yeah. ‘Course.”
He gives Buck a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. And when Eddie opens the front door to leave, Buck feels his chest tighten, his heart whining like a sad, neglected dog. Even though he knows it’s his own doing.
And then Eddie turns back. “Look.” He clenches his outstretched hand into a fist and then drops it at his side. “I know you’re going through your own stuff right now. And if you need space or whatever that’s fine, but don’t…just don’t think you can’t talk to me about it just because I’m having a tough time.”
“That’s not what this is,” Buck insists, but he can feel the flush crawling up his neck because…well, that’s kind of what this is. With one huge caveat.
Eddie gives him a look. “I know you, Buck. And I know the worse you feel, the more you try to hide it from the people you care about. Why can’t you let me try and fix it for a change?”
“Because you can’t,” Buck says before he can stop himself. “This isn’t something that can be fixed, I just need…some time.”
Eddie is still looking at him, unconvinced. And that’s always trouble, because one thing Buck knows about Eddie is that he doesn’t let Buck get away with shit.
“Some time,” Eddie echoes. “Right. And here I’ve been monopolizing all your time because I don’t know what to do with myself when my kid wants to hang out with his friends…god, I’m pretty pathetic, huh?”
“Eddie, no, c’mon, that’s not—you’re not monopolizing my time, Jesus. I want to be with you.” He can feel the blood draining from his face as soon as the words leave his lips. “I mean I want to hang out with you. I always want to hang out with you.”
“Buck, you don’t have to—”
“No, I mean it,” Buck insists, stepping toward him. He’d rather spill the whole, pathetic truth than have Eddie think for one second that Buck doesn’t want him around.
“Buck, seriously,” Eddie says. “I know I’m being needy, okay? I know. And you don’t have to feel bad for me, you can tell me if it’s too much.”
“No, come on, it’s not too much, Eddie, it’s—it’s not enough.”
Fuck. Buck closes his eyes, as if he can stop the inevitable from happening if he doesn’t look.
“What does that mean?” Eddie asks after a long pause.
“I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Buck,” Eddie starts, but Buck doesn’t let him finish.
“Look, you should go pick up Chris, he’s probably wondering where you are and he must be getting hungry right now, we can talk tomorrow.” He turns Eddie around, opening the door with one hand and trying to shove Eddie out with the other.
Eddie whirls back around and pins the door closed behind him, facing Buck. “No, I think we should talk now. Chris’ll be fine. In fact, he’ll probably be glad he gets a few extra minutes with his friends. Now. What did you mean, it’s not enough?”
He’s like a dog with a bone. Buck knows he’s not going to let this go.
He steels himself. Looks Eddie in the eye even though everything in him is screaming to hide. He’s known, ever since he figured out his feelings, that they were a ticking time bomb. That he could only hide them for so long. Looks like the countdown’s over. “I think you can probably guess.”
“I don’t want to guess,” Eddie says. “I want you to tell me.”
“Eddie,” Buck pleads. When Eddie doesn’t looked moved he huffs out a breath. “Fine. Fine. I recently realized that I…have feelings for you. Okay? And I’m trying to get over them, but it’s a little hard when I have to see you basically every day.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything for several seconds that seem to stretch on forever. Finally, he says, “You have…feelings for me?”
Buck swallows. He straightens his shoulders, and with the air of someone confessing to a murder, says, “Yes.” He can’t look at Eddie’s face for too long, so he drops his gaze down to his chest, his arms, his feet. “So, I just need a little bit of space right now.”
“You have feelings for me,” Eddie repeats. “And you…you’re trying to get over them? And that’s why you need space?”
Buck shrugs. “Um, well, basically, yeah.”
“No.”
Buck’s gaze shoots back up. Eddie has that determined look on his face, but there’s something gentle there, too. “What do you mean, no?”
“Buck,” Eddie says. “I don’t want to give you space so you can get over me. I don’t want you to get over me. In fact, I’d be really happy if you never, ever got over me.” He steps toward Buck, cupping his cheek in one hand. “So it’d be great if you’d stop trying.”
Buck is pretty sure his brain is short-circuiting. Eddie’s touching his face. Eddie wants Buck to stop trying to get over him. None of it makes any sense.
Something flickers in Eddie’s eyes and his expression becomes uncertain. He drops his hand from Buck’s cheek.
“Unless…” Eddie says hesitantly. “Unless you think it wouldn’t work between us, for some reason. Is that it? Because for what it’s worth, Buck, I really think it would. In fact, I know it would. Maybe that sounds crazy, but come on. It’s us.”
Eddie’s words technically make sense. It’s just that he’s standing so close to Buck and his eyes are so soft and brown and nothing he’s saying fits into Buck’s understanding of the world.
“I don’t actually have plans with Maddie on Saturday,” Buck blurts.
Eddie snorts. “Yeah, I got that. You’re not a good liar.”
“I want to come over and cook you dinner,” Buck says. He’s completely lost control of his mouth. “Tonight, tomorrow, Saturday—whenever you want.”
“We have a shift tomorrow,” Eddie says faintly.
“I want to cook you dinner and I want to come with you to pick up Chris and I want to sleep over and I don’t want to sleep on the couch.”
“Okay,” Eddie says, a sweet indulgence in his voice. “Let’s do that, then.”
“I don’t want space,” Buck says urgently. “I don’t want to get over you.”
Eddie smiles tenderly. He puts his hands on Buck’s shoulders, right where they join his neck. He leans his forehead against Buck’s. “Good.”
“I want to be with you,” Buck whispers. He swallows. “What do you want?”
Eddie hums. “Buck, when Chris started wanting more independence, you were the person I wanted to spend all my time with, and it’s not because I had nothing better to do. It’s because I wanted to be with you. I always want to be with you.”
“Oh,” Buck says, something blooming in his chest that feels a lot like happiness.
And Eddie—
Eddie kisses him.
It’s slow, and tender, and full of the kind of joy Buck thought he’d never get to have. The heat of Eddie’s mouth, the reverent way he touches Buck, all of it lets Buck know that he’s not alone in this. That he never was.
A phone buzzes in one of their pockets. They ignore it in favor of making out more.
When it buzzes again, Buck remembers he left his own phone over on the kitchen counter. He breaks away.
“That could be Chris,” he says.
Eddie, looking a little dazed, checks his phone. “It’s Aiden’s mom,” he says. “She’s asking if Chris can stay for dinner.”
A few days ago, this would have sent Eddie into a minimum of a two hour spiral about how Chris never wants to spend time with Eddie anymore.
Now, Eddie types out a quick reply, pockets his phone, and grins up at Buck. “So, looks like we have the evening to ourselves. Any ideas?”
Most of Buck’s ideas don’t involve clothes.
“We could…go on a date?” he says. Somehow, despite everything that’s happened in the past few minutes, he feels shy suggesting it.
“A date,” Eddie echoes, like it’s a novel concept. “You want to date me?”
“I kind of want to do everything with you,” Buck admits. “Thought we covered that.”
“Even when I’m being a pathetic sad-sack about my almost-teenage son drawing healthy, natural boundaries?”
“Even then,” Buck says.
Eddie smiles, so beautifully it feels a bit like a kick to the chest. “God, I like you.”
It sounds more like I love you, but Buck’s in no rush. Ten minutes ago, he didn’t even think this was possible—having Eddie grinning up at him, holding Buck like he’s not going to let him go.
“You know, maybe Chris gaining some independence has an upside,” Eddie says.
Buck laughs. Eddie’s not fooling him. “You still miss him, though.”
“God, yes.”
“Honestly?” Buck says. “I do, too.”
Eddie lights up, like Buck couldn’t have said anything more romantic than he misses Eddie’s kid.
“Monday after our shift,” Eddie says. “You, me, and Chris. We’ll go for burgers at that place near the boardwalk. It can be our third date.”
“Third?”
“Well, yeah. Tonight’s our first, Saturday will be our second, then we have a shift Sunday, so Monday will be our third.”
And it’s—it’s so easy to plan their lives together. It’s easy because they’ve already been doing it for so long.
Buck kisses him again, just because he can now and he thinks maybe the novelty will never wear off. “I can’t wait.”