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It’s close to midnight when Eddie’s phone lights up his bedroom and wakes him from the half sleeping state he’d been stuck in for half an hour. Now, there are a few things you need to know about Eddie Diaz and it is that his phone is always on silent. He doesn’t spend much time on it, barely checks social media and honestly prefers the good old fashion calling over texting. He’s not clueless with technology, it’s just not something he really likes. The real world has always been entertaining enough to him.
Especially when Evan Buckley became his best friend. Then, his life turned around and Eddie was met with a constant source of entertainment. Sometimes, to his despair, leading to a random call at midnight during his day off.
He put his phone on silent to the exception of three ringtone that will, no matter what, burst out as loud as possible in any situation.
The first ringtone is Bobby’s. Three loud bip sounds, followed by two long buzzes. It’s the sound that tells Eddie he’s gonna have to come into work early because there’s some catastrophe in Los Angeles that needs all hands on deck. When Bobby calls, it’s serious.
The second ringtone is Christopher’s, which is a personalized one. It’s a silly song that Christ loved when he was younger. When it rings, Eddie knows his son needs him. Lucky for him, he’s yet to hear this ringtone at any impromptu moments. Christopher always calls him at reasonable hours and Eddie can always tell what the demand is going to be. “Please, dad, can I stay over at my friend's place?” is a question Eddie has become more than familiar with.
Finally, the third ringtone is also a personalized one and it was set up in his phone almost a decade ago by his best friend, Buck. Every time Eddie hears it, he has to fight the urge to change the damn thing.
Because Buck’s ringtone is one of the “classic” ones on his Iphone. No, it’s not an instrumental one, unfortunately. It’s not a blaring alarm or crickets, nope.
Buck’s ringtone is the one with the singing ducks.
Laugh all you want – Eddie sure does – but know it wasn’t his choice. It happened years ago, too many beers in both of their systems and a late night between him and his best friend and his goddamn phone. Eddie had been looking for him and Buck had called him until they found it under the couch. Which is also where they ended up the night, backs against it and empty bottles of beers on the table next to them. They ended up on the floor, cheeks red and sweaty from the alcohol and for some reason, giggling like two schoolgirls. It had been Buck who had reached for Eddie’s phone and changed the setting for the ringtone.
"You have a special ringtone for me?” Buck slurred out, his breath stinking of the beer they had both been drinking. By that point of the night, it had become unclear whose bottle was whose and they were simply drinking for both of them simultaneously.
Eddie had playfully shoved him, “Someone has to answer the call when you broke a bone or something.”
They had laughed about it, somehow the alcohol made everything funnier and lighter. There was some sort of running gag that could be made out of Buck always hurting himself, but only when they were in the mood for self-deprecating jokes. They tended to make those at their own expenses, though. But once Buck got pinned down by a firetruck after a bombing, once a tsunami hit Los Angeles and he walked around town freely bleeding and searching for his missing son, something in Eddie made it near impossible for him to joke about the topic.
What really sealed the deal was the lighting strike and the coma. After that, it was a taboo thing to joke about Buck getting hurt in front of Eddie, and everyone on the team knew better than to tease either about it. It wasn’t funny, and Eddie would make sure to make you feel uneasy just for thinking about a so-called joke.
But back to right now, right here in Eddie’s bedroom and the goddamn singing ducks. Eddie hears the ducks, feel his heart fall down his stomach and he thinks of the worst. It doesn’t even take five seconds to pick up the phone, sitting up on the bed.
“Buck?” he asks, voice still hoarse from the sleep but high and alerted from the panic. “Are you okay?”
His heartbeat only continues to rise up when Buck answers. “Eddie! God, Eddie, I killed him. I can’t believe I killed him!” His best friend confesses to the phone. He sounds panicked, frantic over the phone and Eddie’s already in solution mode.
He falls off the bed and reaches for his clothes. “What happened?” he says, already halfway across the house with only one shoe on. He looked around for his keys. “Are you hurt? Did you get hurt?”
On the other side of the phone, Buck let go of a long, exasperated sigh. “Patrick!” he whined, “I killed Patrick.”
And you’d think that hearing those words out of Evan Buckley’s mouth would send Eddie into cardiac arrest, except it’s quite the opposite. While a second ago, he was ready to hide a body for Buck, now he was almost tempted to kill the man himself. “What?” he stops dead in his tracks, hand on the doorknob.
Buck, as of him, sounds totally unaware by the switch of tone from Eddie. “I’m so sorry,” Buck says, “You gotta believe me, okay? I didn’t mean to do it!”
Eddie drops the shoe he hadn’t bothered to put on to the ground, letting go of the doorknob and he lets himself fall down against the door. He exhales a deep, long breath. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I didn’t mean to, I promise!” Buck says and he sounds so sincere, so guilty of it that Eddie wants to laugh but he can’t. His heart is still in his throat and his heartbeat is still up. He thought something big had happened, that Buck was hurt or in danger. Not… this.
“You’re calling me because you killed Patrick?” and something in his tone must be strong enough this time because Buck goes silent for a few seconds. Then, he hears him clearing his throat before he speaks again.
“Eddie, Patrick is-”
“A plant, Buck,” Eddie cuts him off. “Patrick is a plant. You killed a plant.” His legs are still wobbly so he can’t get himself back up, choosing to stay on the floor against the door as he calms his body down from the now fake panic he was going through. Once he’s able to, Eddie might strangle Buck for scaring him shitless like that.
“I killed Patrick,” Buck whines, as if waiting for Eddie to have a more appropriate reaction.
“Patrick is a plant,” Eddie says again, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed before he says, “Or was a plant, since you killed him.”
“It’s not funny!” His best friend answers him. Eddie can’t help but think about how earnest Buck sounds right now. He can clearly tell how guilty Buck is feeling.
“Buck, it’s almost one in the morning and you’re calling me over a dead plant. I will be making fun of you a little, these are the rules.”
His best friend still doesn’t find him funny. “You have to come over.”
Eddie sighs. “Buck-”
“Please, Eddie!” Buck begs on the line. “Come, please.”
Eddie sighs again, his own guilt creeping in sneakily. “I’m not coming over for a dead plant, c’mon! What am I gonna do about it?”
“I made a promise to Chris,” Buck says and Eddie can hear the tears in his best friend’s voice. There’s only him to cry over his son’s now dead plant. “I promise I'd take care of Patrick while he's gone to summer camp,” he says, “And I don’t know what happened but Patrick is dead now!” Then, Buck says something with a tone that Eddie just knows he won’t be able to resist. “Please, Eddie. I’m begging.” And the man really is begging, his voice going higher and more breathy, like when someone tries their best to hold their breath not to cry.
It’s not like Eddie has ever been good at saying no to Buck. He stands up and heads to the kitchen just to grab a glass of water before heading out. “You scared the crap out of me,” he says, phone to his ear while standing in front of the sink. Eddie’s eyes catch the stupid sponge holder shaped like a frog that he bought two years ago at a flea market with Buck – a flea market Buck had also dragged him to, of course – and the frog had caught his attention back then. Eddie had stopped to give it a good look, and internally debated about getting it and it had been Buck who finally convinced him to get it.
“I don’t need it,” Eddie had said, putting it back on the table. He’d been unable to pout at the green thing.
Buck had rolled his eyes, told him about the ridiculously high statistics saying how much of the crap we send to thrift stores and stuff eventually end up in a landfill and Eddie, although had googled it later (and it turned out to be true) had bought it and brought it home.
“I’m sorry,” Buck says and he really does sound like he feels bad about it. “Can you come?”
Eddie put his glass in the sink. “What do you need me to do?” he asks, already on his way towards the front door. He puts on the missing shoe he didn't have earlier, grabs his keys again and Buck doesn’t speak until he’s on the front porch.
“I don’t know,” Buck says, “I just need you.”
So Eddie goes.
When Buck opens the door to his apartment fifteen minutes later (Eddie speeds a little), his best friend does so with one big, long, almost pathetic sigh and a gigantic sigh on his face. Eddie can’t help it and feels his heart swelling at the sight, a warmth traveling down his spine as he stares at Buck for a few seconds. “Alright,” he says, trying his best not to laugh, “Show me the victim.”
“He’s over there,” Buck says, pointing to the counter in the kitchen room where he-it is lying, dead. Patrick looks rough for a plant, the leaves all brown and clearly dead. Eddie winces at the sight, then laughs. “It’s not funny, Eddie,” Buck says through his teeth.
He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s a little funny.”
Buck picks up a leaf with one finger before dropping it. He pouts, gives Eddie an apologetic look and says, “Chris trusted me to take care of it.”
Eddie came closer. “My thirteen year old trusted you to take care of a plant because I would’ve killed it on the first night,” he says. “You lasted a whole week. There are worse catastrophes in the world.”
Buck shakes his head at that. “There’s not. This is devastating,” he says with his eyes sadly locked on Patrick. Eddie, as for him, can’t help but smile fondly. His best friend is so endearing…
“Chris is going to hate me,” Buck says.
It’s Eddie’s turn to shake his head. “He won’t. He’ll understand.”
Buck glares at him. “Yes, because thirteen years old are sooo cool about people killing their pets.”
“Again, this is a plant. Not a pet.”
“I told him I’d take care of him while he’s at camp,” Buck says, falling on one of the chairs next to him. “Because you’re a black thumb and he loved this stupid plant and I ended up killing Patrick.”
Eddie walks between Buck’s legs, both knees now cradling his hips. “Buck, we both know why you offered to do this.”
Their new proximity brings heat all over Eddie’s body and he smiles as he watches goosebumps traveling down Buck’s arms. Still, Buck says, “Patrick is very important-”
“Stop calling it Patrick,” Eddie says, pushing a finger against his chest playfully. Buck’s eyes go down to the digit.
“Christopher called him Patrick.”
“It’s a plant.”
“Well it is dead!” Buck says in a whine, throwing his head back dramatically. “What am I gonna do?”
This is a typical Buck thing to do, Eddie reminds himself. Buck has always cared about things so much they overwhelms him. Buck knows they overwhelms him but he can’t say no to the people he love, which is why he says yes to babysit Jee even when he’s sick and just worked a 48 hours shift the day before, it’s why he’ll cook at spice level Eddie can handle but not him, it’s why he says yes to donate sperm to a so-called friend who never called back once the baby was born and it’s why Buck says yes to Chris when he ask him to watch over a plant he got and named Patrick while he headed off to camp. Of course Buck would do this. In fact, Eddie struggles to recall a time where he’s ever said no to Chris besides to like, eat something full of sugar before dinner.
“You know why you said yes to do this?” he says, tilting his head to the side and stepping even closer between his best friend’s legs. Eddie moves his hands so they lay on the side of Buck’s stomach. “Because you started dating his dad,” he says with intent, a smile creeping on his face at the same time as Buck, “and you wanted to still be cool to him,” he says, “So you said yes, even if you don’t have the time or the attention span to take care of a plant like this one that require water every single day.”
There’s a light blush on Buck’s cheeks as he listens to Eddie. He tilted his head too, looking up from his seat and locking eyes with him. They’ve been dating for… a good solid six weeks, which is both nothing and such a long time. It had been long coming, that much was true.
Being in a relationship was not something Eddie was planning to do anytime soon. Being in a relationship with Buck, Eddie had never even entertained the thought of it. Never had he thought his best friend would be an option, but then he saw him die and felt his heart being brought back to life under the palm of his hands and suddenly, the fact that Buck was a man and he’d never dated one before was so damn low on his list of worries.
“Maybe,” Buck mumbles. He makes little circles with his thumbs over Eddie’s waist. “I just want him to like me.”
Eddie leans over, the tip of his nose tracing Buck’s jawline all the way to his ear, “Spoiler alert,” he says, “He’s liked you since he was 7.”
Buck gently pushes him off, “You know what I mean,” he says, tone vulnerable and almost sad. “I don’t want him to think he lost me or something. I wanna be your boyfriend and his friend.”
While he knows this mindset is not going to work in the long run, not if they plan on having kids together, Eddie understands wanting to keep up this image in the beginning. They were only six weeks in, after all. He nodded his head, understanding. “I know,” he says, then leans down and delicately kisses him on the lips.
Buck’s eyelashes are fluttering when they break the kiss. “What are we gonna do?” Eddie likes that he’s waiting for a solution they will come up with. He likes being paired up with Buck in all categories of his life.
“We’re gonna clean up the scene of the crime,” Eddie says and he chuckles when Buck makes a groaning sound, “And we’ll simply get a new one and he won’t tell the difference.”
“In Raising Helen, the kid knew the aunt switched turtles after it died.”
Eddie bites on his bottom lip, holding back a laugh before he says, “I promise my son will not notice.” They both look to the counter, back to Patrick. “We can put him in the compost back at my place.”
“Your ability to get rid of a body so easily should worry me,” Buck mumbles, his eyes still on the dead plant. Eddie rolls his own at him.
“Do you want to come clean to Chris then? Tell him everything?” And Buck’s head is almost his own when he turns to look at him.
“No!” Buck answers quickly, fingers digging harder into Eddie’s waist. “No, please, not now.” Eddie nodded his head. “Maybe when he’s 18.”
“Sure,” Eddie says, “We can tell him you killed Patrick the Plant once he turns 18,” then he lifts both hands to cradle his boyfriend’s face. “But for now, put him in a plastic bag and bring him back to my place so we can get rid of it.” Buck’s eyes widen briefly and Eddie wonders if it really turned him on or if it was just a trick of light or something.
“We get rid of him and buy a new one,” Buck repeats the plan again. Eddie stroked a thumb over the pink shade of his birthmark.
“Exactly,” he says, leaning down to smack a kiss on his lips. “No body, no crime.”