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Eddie paced the waiting room, heart in his throat, and surely there must be a path there now, worn by years of his footsteps across the same strip of tile. It was unfair how much time he spent here, and it was all far too familiar. He shouldn’t be so well acquainted with these walls, with the little smudge of blu-tack above the lightswitch that had held up a poster maybe three years ago, with the sight of Buck’s face, pale and bloodless, as he was wheeled away from Eddie and into surgery.
His heel squeaked as he turned, and he wondered how many laps of this waiting room he had done in his lifetime.
“Family of Evan Buckley?”
Eddie was used to this, too. He stepped forward, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He recognised this nurse – although he didn’t know her name – and she’d never had terrible news for him before. But there was always going to be a first time.
“Yes?” The voice at Eddie’s elbow startled him hard enough to make him jump, and a shoulder brushed him aside, addressing the nurse like he held the authority. It wasn’t malicious, or even intentional, but it certainly felt that way; it was someone putting themselves in between him and Buck.
Then Eddie remembered: Tommy.
“Um,” for a moment, the nurse looked flustered. “You’re Evan Buckley’s family?”
“I’m his boyfriend,” Tommy confirmed, and the words had never sounded so foul in Eddie’s ears.
He’d thought he was used to it, after all these months. Had kidded himself into thinking it was normal. Buck was happy, so therefore he was happy. He liked Tommy. Tommy was his friend, and he was undeniably good for Buck. He treated Buck like something precious, and he always made sure there was room for Eddie. He had no idea why it bothered him so much. Them being together. Why it chafed against him like a tag in a favourite shirt.
It felt unfair to hate thinking of them as a couple, so Eddie tried not to think of it at all. Except right now, when it was being slammed in his face like a door. Of course Tommy would take charge here. Of course Tommy would be the one allowed to see Buck. To know about the state of his health. Because who was Eddie, really? Buck’s friend? For reasons he couldn’t fathom, that thought chafed, too.
“His boyfriend?” Now the nurse really did look confused. Her eyes flitted to Eddie, bouncing on the balls of his feet, practically vibrating with anxious energy.
“Yes. His boyfriend.” There was an edge to Tommy’s voice now, and the eyes snapped back to Tommy’s face.
“Okay!” She sounded overly bright, compensating for some transgression Eddie must have missed. “Well, Mr Buckley’s surgery went well. The steel bar missed any of his vital organs, and it didn’t pierce as deep as initially thought. Recovery will be rough, but he will make it through just fine.”
Eddie felt like he might collapse. When he’d seen that piece of steel protruding from Buck’s stomach, seen the way his hand reached for it, curling around it in confusion before dropping listlessly to his side, seen the spreading blood and heard Hen screaming for Chim to get the med kit, he’d felt like all the air had left his lungs. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not again. Not after the lightening. Not like this.
“Buck! Look at me!” he’d begged, as those impossibly blue eyes started to slip closed. “Stay with me! Hen will get you fixed up just fine. You’ll be okay.”
It was a prayer. A wish. A desperate bargain with God.
Buck hadn’t made a sound as Hen worked, bandaging him as best she could before loading him into the ambulance. His eyes had stayed on Eddie the whole time, wide and trusting.
“Oh, thank God.” Tommy breathed, swaying so hard his shoulder crashed into Eddie’s. Or maybe Eddie had crashed into him. Maybe they were both holding each other upright. “Can I see him?”
Again, the nurse faltered. Her brows were knit together, clearly not understanding. She cut her eyes between them, trying to figure it out. Eddie didn’t blame her.
“Uh, yes. You can see him.”
So, the metaphorical door had a lock. It snapped closed as Tommy followed the nurse from the room, steps quick and eager, a physical barrier between Eddie and the place he wanted to be more than anything in the world. The resounding click echoed through his mind, so loud he had to sit down before it knocked him off his feet. The smear of blu-tack stared at him from its home above the lightswitch.
“Eddie?” There was Tommy again, halfway down the hall and paused mid-step, head thrown over his shoulder to regard Eddie in deep confusion. “Aren’t you coming?”
And somehow, that was worse than if he’d been left behind without a second thought. He was in the hall beside Tommy before he registered his body moving.
“He should be waking up soon.” Again, the nurse didn’t seem sure who to address.
It was always Eddie, before. Eddie was always the one waiting, breathless and unmoored, for the verdict that would tell his lungs whether they could ever draw air properly again. Eddie was the one who had never failed to race breakneck through the doors to Buck’s side, heedless of anything standing in his way. But Eddie was the one hesitating now.
What was the protocol for this? Buck was his partner, his best friend, his chosen family. Buck was the closest person on earth to a soulmate he had ever met. But Tommy was his boyfriend. On paper, neither of them should have been allowed in. On paper, they should have had to wait for Maddie, or the dreaded Buckley Parents. Eddie shuddered at the thought.
Eventually, the nurse settled for speaking into the space between them.
“He’ll be coming out of anaesthesia, so he’ll be a little incoherent for a while. He’ll stay overnight, but if there are no complications, he should be cleared to go home tomorrow, if he has someone to look after him.”
“I’ll stay with him.”
“He can stay at mine.”
They stared at each other, the overlapped words slapping together in the echoing corridor.
Immediately, Eddie deferred, tilting his head down in a show of what could only be described as submission. The chafing feeling grew worse, morphing into the beginnings of a blister.
Of course Tommy would stay with him. Eddie couldn’t devote his full time to Buck, he had a son and nothing to offer but the couch. He would insist Buck take the bed, but Buck – stubborn even in the face of an injury – would argue. He always did. He said he liked Eddie’s couch. Of course it made sense for him to be comfortable in his own bed with Tommy waiting on him hand and foot. The thought tasted sour in the back of Eddie’s throat.
“O-kaaay?” If the nurse’s brows creased any closer together, they were going to unite. “Well, like I said, he should be waking up soon. You can sit with him until he does.”
And then – going against all protocol, Eddie was sure – she spun on her heel, disappearing down the hall and leaving the two men, neither of whom were tied to Buck in any legally relevant way, facing off outside the door to his room.
Tommy watched him for a second, gaze searching his face as Eddie kept his expression very carefully neutral. Tommy was his friend. He liked Tommy. He shouldn’t need to be chanting these facts like a mantra in his head to remind himself that Tommy being here for Buck was a good thing. Buck deserved stability. He deserved someone that would fight to show up in all his worst moments.
He stayed very still, until the probing gaze retreated and Tommy flattened his palm against the door, pushing it open with far more gentleness than Eddie would have managed. It had been years since Eddie had followed into Buck’s hospital room at someone else’s heels.
“Hey, baby.” The low, care-filled voice made Eddie want to rip his ears out of his skull, until he stepped out from the shield of Tommy’s broad shoulders and the entire world narrowed to Buck.
He was on the bed, on his back, face pale and eyes closed, tubes attached to the back of his hand and tethering him to the I.V. pole standing watch at his side. There were no tubes down his throat or bruises on his face this time, but he was so completely still that Eddie felt the panic rising regardless of the facts.
He couldn’t see his chest rising and falling. Couldn’t hear him breathing. The only reassurance he had of Buck’s beating heart was the spiking line on the screen to his left, and the minute way he stirred at Tommy’s words.
“Baby?” Tommy speared to his knees, heedless of the hard floor, taking Buck’s free hand in a way that felt obscene to witness.
Eddie blinked, hard, and then the clasp of hands was nothing more than the gentle grip of a loved one in a hospital. He hovered in the doorway, uncertain of his place and hating every second of it. Consciously, he reined it in, confused and desperate, determined not to let it spill over into a hatred of Tommy.
“Mm?” Buck smacked his lips.
The hand that spasmed was clutched loosely in Tommy’s, but Eddie felt it like it was held reverently between his own. Buck’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused, and God himself couldn’t have erased the soft smile fluttering over Eddie’s lips. He hated seeing Buck in a hospital bed, but he couldn’t deny that he loved this part: the soft, bewildered expression on Buck’s face as he returned to the world of the conscious, waning anaesthesia muddling his thoughts until he spilled an endless stream of confusion that they could laugh about later. He always told the truth in his sleep, and it was always amusing.
“I’m here.”
“Tommy?”
Eddie had to grit his teeth together to fight down the jealousy.
“Yeah, baby. I’m right here.”
Buck smiled then, sleepy and sweet, and Eddie wanted to gouge Tommy’s eyes out so he wouldn’t get to see it. It felt like a completely rational thought in the moment; That smile had always been for Eddie, before. Then, Buck’s distracted gaze wandered further into the room, and Eddie felt it like a living thing when it landed on him.
“Eddie!” Buck’s eyes lit up, before he faltered, trying and failing to focus back on Tommy. “You can’t tell him.” He shifted restlessly, grabbing at the blankets with anaesthesia-limp fingers. “You can’t tell Eddie.”
Eddie froze mid-step, an unnamed feeling barrelling through him and leaving him winded. Since when did he and Buck keep secrets from one another? Since when did Buck keep secrets specifically from him but tell Tommy? Eddie wanted to sink into the floor. He was nothing. He was a microscopic spec on the shoe of Buck’s life and he shouldn’t even be in this room.
He had to get out.
He was halfway through deciding how quietly to leave when Buck’s voice, small and groggy and terrified, grabbed at his heart and pulled him back. Buck’s eyes were frantic now, his fingers clasped around Tommy’s like he was spilling his dying wish. He must be regaining his strength, and Eddie couldn’t even spare a moment to be pleased.
“He can’t know. It would ruin everything.”
“Shhh, baby,” Tommy soothed, rubbing circles into Buck’s hand with his thumb, exactly the way Eddie would have if he’d gotten there first. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay! He’ll hate me! He can’t know I’m in love with him!” His eyes were wild, and his voice cracked right down the middle, and- and what? Had Eddie heard that right? Surely he had misunderstood. Buck was half-asleep and waking up from surgery and-
And Tommy was looking at him, brows kitted in a way that felt like a challenge, mouth quirked in faint amusement, and eyes shadowed with sadness. Eddie swallowed.
“I’m in love with him.” It was almost a whine, plaintive and scared, drawing attention back to the hospital bed, and the only thing barring Eddie from rushing to his side was Buck’s boyfriend kneeling in the way.
“I know, Buck.” Tommy didn’t sound upset. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the space between Buck’s eyebrows. Then, he raised his head, looking at Eddie again, long and indecipherable, before returning his attention to smoothing circles into the back of Buck’s hand. “I know.”
And now, Eddie really did need to leave. He burst from the room with all the strength usually reserved for making the entrance, and barrelled unseeing down the hall.
The waiting room.
He would be safe in the waiting room.
The waiting room was a liminal space where no decisions were made, where he waited in agony until someone else came and handed him the truth in cold hard facts.
It looked the same as it had when he left it, ten minutes and a thousand years ago. Shouldn’t something have changed? That same piece of blu-tack was mocking him now, sitting smugly above the lightswitch. It didn’t have any hard questions to answer.
Because… because it all made sense, didn’t it?
All of it.
The casual shoulder bumps and the sharing of their space. The way they sat too close and the place for Buck’s shoes and keys and clothes at his house. Easy laughs over drinks and life-changing revelations over holes patched in walls. The distance they felt when the other was dating, and the way they left casualties in their wakes as they clawed through everyone to get back to each other. Christopher’s love that flowed easier for Buck than for his own mother. Bedside vigils and shared lives and a will.
Because that was it. Those were the facts: if Buck was in love with him, then he was in love with Buck.
It was that simple.
It should have felt terrifying, opening up this new, unexplored part of himself, but it wasn’t. The only thing to fear was that he didn’t see it sooner. Of course he was in love with Buck. Of course Buck was in love with him. They were a family. He was Christopher’s other father, for God’s sake. Defiantly, he crossed the room and scraped the piece of blu-tack off the wall with his thumbnail.
“Eddie.”
The voice behind him was low, cautious. Tommy. Eddie turned. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. He didn’t know what to say. Tommy was his friend. He liked Tommy. He didn’t want Tommy to be the latest in a long line of metaphorical bodies.
“I knew, Eddie.” Tommy’s expression was soft, and his voice was mournful. “I knew from the start. But I couldn’t resist getting involved anyway. I mean, he’s Buck.”
Tommy shrugged helplessly, and for once in this whole situation, Eddie couldn’t begrudge him that. Yeah, he was Buck.
“I’m still your friend, and I’m still his friend.” The other man reached out, clasping Eddie’s shoulder in a show of maturity that Eddie could never have matched. “I’m sad, and I might not be around for a while, but I was both of your friends first, okay?”
Eddie nodded mutely in response.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”
With that, Tommy left him, and Eddie balled up the blu-tack between his thumb and fingers, squeezing it for a second before lobbing it into the trash. He was going to see Buck.
..
“Hey,” Eddie eased the door open, heart in his throat, unsure of what he was going to find. Was Buck still groggy and out of it, or was he fully awake and horrified by this turn of events? If it was the latter, Eddie would do everything in his power to make sure Buck felt safe and comfortable again before having the conversation.
“Eddie?” Buck’s voice was small. He looked small, somehow, despite his broad frame. Hunched in on himself, like a puppy expecting a second kick when the first had already come close to shattering ribs. Eddie’s heart broke for him.
For a second – a split second that stretched itself into hours – there was silence, and then Buck lifted his hand, just slightly, and Eddie fell forward, crossing the room in the space of a breath and colliding into Buck’s space like he had never left. Buck’s fingers were solid in his, their warmth eating away at the terror of slippery blood and a slowing pulse until the horror faded to memory.
“I love you, too.” Eddie choked out, completely forgetting his earlier resolve. He lifted his head to look Buck full in the face, leaving no shadow of a doubt that he was sure of what he was saying. “I didn’t know it until you said it, but I love you too. I love you, Evan Buckley.”
There had been a weight on his chest for years, and Eddie hadn’t even known it. But when Buck’s hand tightened on his and his expression broke into pure summer sunshine, the ten tonnes of doubt evaporated so quickly that Eddie felt lightheaded.
“You do?”
“Of course I do.” Like it was ever a question. “We’re idiots, huh?” he croaked, and Buck threw back his head and laughed.
They would kiss about it later, he was sure, but for now Eddie simply basked in his presence. In his love, collapsing onto his chest and finally, finally, feeling him breathing.
..
“Not gonna lie,” It was the same nurse again, smiling as she filed the paperwork for Buck’s release the next morning. Eddie was taking him home, and neither of them were taking the couch. “I sort of thought you two were married.”
And wasn’t that a thought? Eddie could see it, Buck in a suit in their backyard, Christopher grinning with the rings in his hand, Bobby commanding the ceremony. It made him feel warm all over, and he was certain it was showing on his face.
“We practically are,” Buck agreed, smiling dopily up at Eddie from the wheelchair another nurse had insisted they use to get to the car. “It just took us a second to realise it.”
And then, with no further explanation, Eddie took the handles of the chair and wheeled Buck away, leaving the nurse completely flabbergasted behind them.