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“Hey, sorry, but I think you’re in my seat. 18F?” Eddie said to the man who was, definitely, sitting in his seat. Eddie watched as he blinked at him for a moment, and couldn’t help but notice the bright blue of his eyes, or his long, light eyelashes.
“Sorry, what?” The other man responded, and he seemed a little dazed.
“I think you’re in my seat,” Eddie repeated, “but it’s okay if you want to sit by the window. I don’t mind switching.”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, “no, I’m totally in your seat. I just —“ he wiggled his hands in a lightly self-deprecating way, “read the sign wrong. Dyslexia,” he finished, shrugging.
“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” Eddie said, and he put up an insistent hand as the other passenger started to get up. “I honestly prefer the aisle seat. So long as you don’t mind sitting next to my son, here.” And he gestured towards Christopher, who had been hanging back, watching the interaction. The other man sat down again, and looked curiously towards Christopher.
“Hey there!” He said, and his face split into a large, genuine smile. Eddie found it immediately endearing, his own mouth starting to smile, reacting to the warmth. He put a hand on Chris’s back, gently pushing him towards the open seat.
“Hi, Chris responded as he sat down, “I’m Chris,” he offered as he arranged his crutches in front of him, awkward in the tight space.
“It’s nice to meet you, Chris! I’m Buck.”
“Buck’s kind of a weird name,” Chris stated, and Eddie choked.
“Christopher,” he hissed, “that is rude.”
But the other passenger — Buck — laughed brightly. “It is a weird name, but I’m the only one who has it, which is pretty cool.”
Chris turned towards Eddie, his eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you give me a name that no one else had?”
“Because the hospital wouldn’t let me put ‘smart ass’ on your birth certificate,” Eddie quipped, and both Chris and Buck started giggling.
“Hey, uh, Chris. Do you want to put your crutches over here? I have a bunch of room in the corner,” Buck asked, and that simple, thoughtful gesture made something like butterflies erupt in Eddie’s stomach.
“Okay,” Chris said easily, and Buck tucked his red crutches into the space between his chair and the wall. Eddie watched him, his large hands careful and gentle as he maneuvered. Something about this paired with his broad, muscled chest and absolutely massive arms made Eddie’s face start to heat. Finished, Buck looked back at Eddie, and Eddie could feel his flush deepen even more.
“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he said, trying to cover up the fact that he had been staring at Buck like the gay disaster he absolutely was.
“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie,” and it sounded like he really meant it. They were all settled into their seats now, seat belts buckled and ready to go, and Eddie expected that they’d drift into their own silent, plane-appropriate activities, like strangers usually did. What he did not expect was for Buck to turn towards Chris, and dive into a conversation with his 12 year old son about the book he was reading. Buck asked question after question, seemingly deeply interested in what Chris had to say about his latest obsession — archeology. Eddie watched in wonder as Chris brightly and enthusiastically answered all of Buck’s questions about stratigraphy. Which — who even knew what stratigraphy meant, let alone knew enough about it to ask about original horizontality?
Eventually, there was a break in their conversation, and Buck looked back to Eddie, who had been watching them, a little awe-struck, his own book forgotten on his lap.
“Sorry, man,” he said brightly, “I didn’t mean to leave you out of the conversation. I get so lost in my own brain sometimes —“
“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie interrupted, “it’s cute. I mean, uh. It’s nice.” He coughed; he could feel his face burning. He watched as Buck’s face colored slightly, the flush emphasizing what Eddie thought might be a birthmark over one eye. Miraculously, Eddie thought he looked pleased.
“Cute, huh?” And somehow, improbably, Eddie was being flirted with by a complete stranger on a plane, his son between them. Said son was looking at Eddie, rolling his eyes when he caught Eddie’s. Thankfully, he didn’t drop a sassy remark between them, and Eddie resolved immediately to buy him an ice cream on their way home from the airport.
Eddie was rescued from trying to figure out something to say in response by the plane finally starting to move. It jerked as it detached from the gangway, and Buck’s smile dropped immediately. He suddenly looked pale. Eddie quickly recatalogued Buck’s dazed expression from earlier.
“Hey,” he said quietly over Chris’s head, “are you scared of flying?”
Buck sighed, a heavy exhale. “I’ve never actually been on a plane before. Also, yes.”
“Whoa, you’ve never been on a plane before?” Chris asked, and Buck still managed to give him a chuckle, even through his mounting discomfort.
“Never,” Buck answered, “how many times have you been on a plane?”
Chris considered this, counting in his head, “probably 20 times. And dad used to fly in helicopters all the time! It’s actually really safe,” Chris promised, and Buck smiled weakly. “Well, except that time dad’s helicopter got shot down.”
“And that is something we definitely don’t have to worry about,” Eddie said, a little strained. Buck’s eyes were wide, but he seemed to catch onto Eddie’s energy immediately, and didn’t ask any follow-up questions.
“Do you think talking about how safe planes are will make you feel better?” Eddie asked, and Buck offered another weak smile.
“I don’t think so,” he said, “I already spent hours doing research last night on plane mechanics. And I get it, logically, but still. There’s a little part I can’t control, you know?”
Eddie nodded – he did know. “Okay, what if we talk about something else?”
“Yeah,” Chris added, “you’re way better to talk to about this than dad is. He still doesn’t get how correlation works.”
“To be fair,” Buck said, and he was laughing almost normally again, “it is really confusing. You’re just really smart.” Chris preened, and Eddie wondered if he could spend the rest of the flight in the bathroom, actually.
Christopher and Buck slipped back into their conversation easily, and Buck seemed to be faring better until it was their turn to actually take off. Chris noticed immediately, and offered his hand to Buck, who took it gratefully.
“When I’m scared,” Chris said, “I usually close my eyes. That might help.”
“Yeah,” Eddie added, his voice soft, “shut your eyes for a while. It’s okay.” Buck looked between Eddie and Christopher, and he looked as overwhelmed as Eddie felt.
“Thank you,” Buck said, and, still holding Christopher’s hand, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his seat. He stayed like that for the take-off, and Eddie could recognize a therapy-taught breathing practice when he saw one. Christopher returned to his book as they ascended, and Eddie couldn’t help but watch them, his son’s love offered so freely, this stranger who was starting to feel like anything but. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was already dreading the end of the flight.
Eventually, when the drink cart started going around, Buck opened his eyes and started chatting with them again. The flight from El Paso to LAX wasn’t that long, and the time passed quickly. By the time they started their descent, Buck looked a lot less nervous, but took Christopher’s proffered hand nonetheless.
Once they were on the ground, waiting to disembark, Eddie’s nerves buzzed uncomfortably under his skin, his heart jumping. He knew he had to say something to Buck — there was no way he could let him walk away and never see him again.
“I realized I never asked you why you were on your first plane ride,” Eddie asked as everyone shifted around them, impatient.
“My jeep broke down in El Paso,” Buck responded, “I’ve been driving across the country. But I got a job offer in LA and I couldn’t wait for the repairs to finish.”
“Oh, what’s the job?” Eddie asked, curious.
“Well,” Buck said, and he looked a little bashful, “it’s actually a spot that opened up in the Fire Academy. Had to get here fast to make sure I got it.”
Eddie gaped at him for a moment. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Dad,” Chris admonished, “you owe me a dollar.” He turned to Buck, who was staring in confusion at Eddie’s outburst. “Dad’s a firefighter.”
Buck’s expression cleared immediately, and he looked adorably excited. “Are you serious? Oh, my god. What station?”
“I’m at the 118.”
“Well, I guess now I have to ask for your number,” Buck said cheerily, and he had the audacity to wink. Eddie’s knees turned to jelly, and he was glad they were still sitting down.
“Yeah,” he choked out, “I guess you have to.”
“Do you believe in the universe, Eddie?” Buck asked, and suddenly, Eddie’s nerves dissipated. He laughed, and let himself marvel at how easy it felt.
“Not really,” Eddie answered, smiling wide, “but I do believe in good timing.”