Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You can’t just sit in the darkness and wait for Christopher to come home, Eddie,” Frank tells him, three weeks after Chris leaves. “It’s not healthy.”

Eddie wants to say yeah, I’ve never been a poster child for healthy coping mechanisms, but he thinks better of it and says, “I know.”

He does know. He knows he shouldn’t sit in his empty house and dwell on all his shortcomings. He knows he has to keep going to work and seeing people and not falling into the spiral like he’s prone to do. He just doesn’t know how he’s supposed to let the world spin on when his world is thousands of miles away.

“Start with something small,” Frank says. “Spend a day out with a friend. I’m sure Buck would be more than happy.”

Eddie should never have told Frank about Buck, but he did, and now he comes up at least once a session because Frank says he needs a “support system” and “from the way he talks about him, it seems like Buck is it.”

He goes home to his empty house again, looks at the calendar to see how many days it’s been since Christopher left, and notices the date. June 25th.

Buck’s birthday is in two days, and he hasn’t mentioned it the first time.

Eddie smiles a little to himself. Looks like he and Buck will be spending a day together.

–

Buck wakes up one Thursday morning in June to the sound of something falling in his kitchen and the sound of someone swearing. 

His first thought is that he’s being robbed – and wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of the terrible past month? Christopher is gone, Bobby still isn’t back to work, and now Buck’s stuff is being stolen. Awesome. 

He slides out of bed as quietly as he can – he’d rather not get assaulted because he accidentally startled the robber – and grabs the first thing he can find that could make a half-decent weapon. It’s a can of body spray and a pocket lighter he uses for candles. Maybe not the best line of defense, but he’s not exactly well-armed up here and at least with this he can keep his distance.

He creeps down the stairs; they’re creaky, so it’s not very quiet at all. The kitchen is empty, he can see. He gets to the bottom of the stairs, turns the corner, and –

“Jesus,” Eddie exclaims when he turns around, jumping out of his skin.

“Eddie?” Buck says, dropping both his hands. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Eddie says, breathing hard and rubbing at the middle of his chest. “Besides giving me a fucking heart attack.”

“I thought you were an intruder!”

Eddie gives him a what the fuck look. “And you were going to set us both on fire?”

Buck looks down at his hands and feels a little embarrassed. He sets the can and the lighter on the table. “It was the first thing I could find. Why are you breaking into my apartment at nine AM?”

“First of all, I have a key, so it’s not breaking in,” Eddie says, ticking off on his fingers. “Second of all, I was surprising you.”

Buck is confused. “For… what?”

“For your birthday,” Eddie pauses and looks at his watch. “Yeah, June twenty-seventh.”

Buck hadn’t even realized. The last few weeks have been more than a little hectic – helping Maddie and Chimney now that they’ve got two kids in the house, trying to prepare to be a character witness for Hen and Karen again, being there for Eddie while he tries to get his feet under him without Christopher, the general hell that is Captain Gerrard, and trying to maintain his relationship. He barely knows what day it is more than he doesn’t, lately. They’re all running together, maybe because he’s not sleeping much.

“Oh,” Buck breathes. “I didn’t – I forgot.”

“Yeah, Maddie said you hadn’t mentioned it to her,” Eddie says, and Buck goes warm at the fact that he took the time to coordinate with his sister about his birthday even though Eddie has more than enough on his plate. “So I figured – you’ve done so much for everyone else lately. I thought – I don’t know. I wanted to do something for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Buck says, looking behind Eddie to see that he’s gone as far as hanging one of those birthday banners he always gets for Christopher on the wall. It’s crooked, held up with tape, and Buck might never take it down. “Really, Eddie.”

Eddie turns and follows Buck’s eyeline. “I realized this was the first time I tried to hang one of those without the help of your freak-of-nature wingspan.”

“You don’t usually hang it at all, you stand behind me and critique how level it is.”

“See, we each have a contributing talent,” Eddie turns back and smiles.

He looks better than he did a few weeks ago. His eyes aren’t as dark, he’s got some color back in his face, he’s standing up straighter. The weight he shed in the early days is back and all the time he’s been spending in the gym is obvious in the way his t-shirt is straining against his biceps. Buck had been worried when he started back on the bag that he was going back to street fighting, but apparently working out is a good outlet. Or so Frank told Eddie.

He’s not completely himself – there’s still something haunting the corners of his smile and the lines of his shoulders – but he’s doing better. Buck thinks that’s a pretty damn good birthday gift all on its own.

Eddie gestures towards the kitchen. “And I went across town to that diner we take Chris to and got those chocolate banana waffles you like but never get because you say they’ve got too much sugar. And Maddie wants to have everyone over for dinner later. I think she’s enlisting Bobby for the grill and she said something about emergency ordering a cake.”

“Eddie,” Buck says, his voice catching in his throat. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Sure I did,” Eddie waves it off and takes a step closer so he’s within reach, places a hand on Buck’s shoulder and squeezes. “What kind of best friend would I be if I forgot your birthday?”

“The kind who has his own stuff going on and doesn’t really have time,” Buck explains.

“Bullshit,” Eddie says. “I can manage a mid-life crisis and your birthday at the same time. I’m a great multitasker.”

Buck says, “So you admit you’re middle-aged?” and Eddie rolls his eyes, flicks Buck on the ear, and Eddie’s poorly-hidden smile is even sweeter than the waffles.

They’re halfway through breakfast when Eddie asks, “How do you forget your own birthday?”

Buck scrapes his fork through the pool of syrup on his plate and shrugs. “There’s been a lot going on. Guess it didn’t register as important. I’m surprised anyone remembered.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Tommy didn’t plan anything?”

Buck pauses. “Uh. I don’t know if he even knows when my birthday is.”

Now Eddie’s raising both eyebrows, which means he’s being more than his usual passively judgmental and is being intentionally and pointedly judgmental. “You guys have been going out for months.”

“It just hasn’t come up,” Buck says. “What, you know when all your girlfriends' birthdays are?”

“First of all, you’re an asshole,” Eddie says, not really mad. He’s learning to joke about it, Eddie’s favorite brand of coping. “Second of all, yes, I knew when Marisol’s birthday was. And Ana’s, when we were together.”

“I don’t know when his is, either,” Buck shrugs. There’s a lot they still don’t know about each other.

“Right,” Eddie hums, shoving a hashbrown into his mouth.

“Will you just say whatever you’re thinking?”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“Your eyebrows are.”

Eddie’s hand flies up defensively to touch his face and then he sighs. “I’m just saying it’s been three months. He should probably know when your birthday is.”

“So I’ll tell him,” Buck says. “No big deal.”

“Good. Invite him to Maddie’s.”

“He’s on standby tonight,” Buck tells him. Tommy’s always taking the on-calls that nobody else wants, even if it means he has to cancel on Buck or leave a date early. It’s fine, he can’t fault a guy for being dedicated to his job. “Do we have to talk about Tommy?”

Eddie clearly has more to say, but he just sucks whipped cream off his thumb and changes the subject. “Finish your breakfast. We’ve got places to be.”

“We?”

“Yeah, we,” Eddie repeats. “What, did you think I had something better to do today?”

“I’m just saying –”

“That I don’t have to do this. I know I don’t. I want to, is that alright? I want to spend your birthday with you.”

Buck ducks his head and smiles. “Yeah, alright. Where are we going?”

“That new art exhibit opens at the museum in an hour and a half,” Eddie says. “We need to leave in thirty if we don’t wanna hit traffic.”

“How did you know I wanted to go to that?”

“I know you,” Eddie shrugs. “And then we’ll go wherever you want for lunch, and after that we’re going to that brewery you’re always talking about and doing a tasting.”

“You hate places like that,” Buck points out.

“I don’t hate them, I just think they’re pretentious,” Eddie shrugs. “But it’s your birthday, so I’m fine with a little bit of pretentiousness as a gift.”

Buck puts their dishes in the sink and on his way up the stairs, he pauses in front of Eddie. He’s not sure why, and Eddie’s looking expectant, nervous like Buck’s going to shut his plans down. “I – thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes go warm, turned liquid by the morning sun through the windows, and when he smiles, it’s the first real one in forever. “Hey, it’s fun for me, too. It’s not a completely selfless act.”

Eddie’s least favorite place is the museums, and he’s never been keen on the “fancy” beers Buck likes, they argue about where they have lunch more days than they don’t. But Eddie does look happy – as happy as he’s capable of these days – like making sure Buck’s birthday is good actually is fun for him, and Buck is so grateful for his best friend that he feels like he’s bursting with it. 

“Thanks anyway,” Buck says, and then rushes up the stairs to shower so he doesn’t have to endure the blood-pressure-raising event that is Eddie Diaz driving through LA traffic.

–

Buck doesn’t check his phone for the first time that day until they’re on their way to lunch.

He’s got tons of notifications – texts from his friends, tags in Instagram posts from Ravi and Hen featuring some of the most embarrassing pictures in existence.

The one that catches his eye is from Christopher.

-

Christopher

happy birthday buck!!!!!!!

sorry im not there and we can’t do something fun 

when i come home maybe we can go to the zoo or something

have a good day!!!! love u

When. When he comes home.

Love you, buddy.

When you come home, we will definitely do something fun.

-

When they sit down for lunch at their favorite burger place, Buck says, “Christopher texted.”

Eddie tries to look relaxed about it, but he grabs his glass of water so tightly it sloshes onto the table. “What’d he say?”

“That when he comes home, we’ll have to do something fun to make up for him not being here for my birthday.”

Eddie repeats, “When,” and exhales long and slow. “When he comes home.”

“Yeah,” Buck grins and kicks Eddie under the table. “It’s gonna be okay.”

When Christopher had texted Eddie on Father’s Day, Eddie cried for an hour. Then the gift arrived the next day and Buck had a serious concern that Eddie was going to need an IV to combat the dehydration.

Eddie’s eyes are wet and he’s swiping at his face with his hand. “Jesus, sorry. Feels like all I do lately is cry.”

“It’s a healthy release of emotions,” Buck says, like he always does, and Eddie rolls his eyes, like he always does. “But I am going to get you some Gatorade or something. Replace the electrolytes.”

“What do I need a therapist or a doctor for? I’ve got you and it doesn’t cost my insurance anything.”

Buck shrugs to say good point, and Eddie relaxes a little more.

Sitting there with Eddie, laughing and talking with their mouths full and throwing fries at each other across the table, Buck is having the best day he’s had in a long time. It’s like the last month washes away every time Eddie laughs, like it never felt harrowing at all when Buck makes a particularly good crack at Eddie’s expense and makes him snort water out of his nose. 

They argue about the bill and eventually, Eddie wins just because he’s quicker on the draw and hands his card to their waitress faster. He doesn’t let Buck leave the tip either, throwing a handful of bills onto the table and sticking his tongue out like a kid when Buck says, “Come on, man.”

In the car on the way to the brewery, Eddie says, “I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to have this good of a day.”

Without Chris goes unspoken but Buck hears it anyway. “I don’t think Chris would want you to just sit around and be miserable the whole time he’s gone. And I think – I think it’s good for you, right? To have a little fun on your own while he has some time to himself, too. I don’t think he’d be mad at you for that.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Because I know that as much as you miss him, you’re not mad at him for having fun while he’s gone.”

“Of course I’m not,” Eddie says, almost offended by the implication he could be. “I want him to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. “What do you think he wants for you, Eddie?”

Eddie works his jaw a little and he says, “Did turning thirty-three give you some new infinite wisdom or something?”

Buck’s phone buzzes in his hand with a text that says Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday? And he thinks, no, I’m definitely not any wiser.

“Maybe I just know what you need to hear,” Buck says.

Eddie snorts and says, “Yeah, maybe.”

–

Buck’s friends are a superstitious group, so nobody yells surprise when he walks into Maddie’s house – absolutely no surprise parties because Chimney says they make Buck cough up blood – but he is swarmed with hugs and happy birthday wishes, so it’s still just as good.

Jee-Yun wraps around his leg until he finally leans down to pick her up, Chimney gives him a card with a too-early joke about being over the hill that Eddie laughs at until he’s wheezing, and it’s a damn good birthday.

It’s a little different than all the times they all gathered up at Bobby and Athena’s, but it’s just as good. Maddie loves being a hostess. She told him once that having a full house was something she thought they missed out on as a kid and she doesn’t want Jee to miss it, too. He heard Athena telling Hen that it might be time for her and Bobby to downsize now that they don’t have two kids at home full time, so Maddie and Chimney might get to take over full time.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this, Maddie,” Buck says when she tries to push him out of the kitchen. “Let me help you cook, come on. It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s your birthday, guests of honor don’t get to cook,” Maddie admonishes, opening the oven to check the pan of mac and cheese Bobby had put it in before going out to start the grill. “Get out of my kitchen. Eddie, do something with him.”

“No, because then you’re going to ask me to cook, and I’m not going to be responsible for ruining dinner,” Eddie says without looking away from where he’s at the counter with Jee, letting her put temporary tattoos all over his arms. It’s such a sweet sight that Buck almost can’t look. “Buck loves to cook, it’ll be like a gift if you let him help. Come on.”

Maddie glares at Eddie, who gestures to Jee-Yun and says, “I’m busy here.” She sighs and says, “Fine, Evan, please get the mac and cheese out of the oven before it burns and then start the mashed potatoes.”

Buck does love to cook, even more when he’s with his sister. It reminds him of when they were kids and they were screwing up recipes together because neither of their parents taught them to cook. Once, Maddie burned some chicken so badly that they had to throw the pan away and pretend they didn’t know where it was the next time their mom went looking for it. After a while, Maddie started getting the hang of it, but she left and Buck didn’t like to do it without her. He didn’t pick it back up until Bobby started teaching him. When she came back, he got to start teaching her some things instead of the other way around, and she still gets that proud little grin like she did when they were growing up and she managed a whole meal that was edible. 

Chimney comes in to start taking stuff out to the backyard. He swipes one of the cucumbers Buck started cutting for the salad and says, “No Tommy tonight?”

Eddie’s jaw tightens a little but he doesn’t stop smiling at Jee. They’ve switched now, he’s gently dabbing a butterfly tattoo right onto her tiny forearm. She reached out and touched the band around Eddie’s arm and said, “Like you, Uncle Eddie!” and Buck was so overwhelmed with how much he adores them both that his eyes had welled up.

“Uh, no,” Buck says. “He’s on stand-by.”

“They call him in already?”

Buck doesn’t know how to say I don’t know because I’m screening his calls. “Uh, I’m not sure. Haven’t really heard much from him.”

Chimney cocks his head and gives him a confused look, but Maddie beats him to saying anything.

“On your birthday? That’s a little weird, don’t you think?”

Chimney says, “Hey, Eddie, wanna help me carry this stuff out?”

Eddie looks at Jee and says, “Looks great, kid. Come on, you can carry the spoons,” and then he sweeps her off her spot on the counter and hands her a non-sharp utensil, grabs the mac and cheese pan off the stove, and abandons Buck to his sister’s questioning.

“He’s busy, Maddie. It’s a part of the job.”

“I know that. I’m married to a firefighter, Buck.” Maddie says, unimpressed. “But he couldn’t even tell you they called him in? Did he even call? Did he –”

“I didn’t tell him today was my birthday, okay?” Buck cuts her off. “He’s not here because he didn’t know and I was with Eddie all day and I – he didn’t know.”

Maddie says, “But it’s been three months,” and Buck groans into his hands.

“I know it has, and I know he probably should have known, but he should probably know a lot of things about me by now that he doesn’t.” Buck says, turning back to the cutting board and resuming his salad chopping. “He wanted to know why I didn’t mention him, and honestly, I’d forgotten about it until Eddie showed up at my loft this morning, and then I wasn’t really thinking about him all that much and I just haven’t texted him back.”

“Evan,” Maddie says. “Can you stop massacring those tomatoes and talk to me?”

Buck has crushed two of the cherry tomatoes he was supposed to be cutting into halves, so he puts the knife down and turns around. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I’m sure you’re upset, but –”

“That’s the thing, Mads. I’m really not,” Buck explains. “I spent the whole day with my best friend, and he’s finally starting to seem like he’s going to be okay, and now I’m here with you guys. I haven’t even missed him.”

“That’s –” Maddie looks lost for words, like she was expecting to have to console him.

“Tommy is – he’s fine. And he’s hot, and he’s cool, whatever. But he’s just – we don’t like the same things, we barely talk about anything that’s important, and he never asked when my birthday was. He doesn’t know my middle name, or what I did before I moved to Los Angeles, or what my favorite color is because he never asked . And when I try to learn anything about him, he gives me some vague answer or changes the subject or comes onto me.”

Maddie says, “I thought things were fine. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I haven’t really thought about it. I haven’t had time, you know? We’ve all had a lot going on.” Buck shrugs, because it’s true. He hasn’t really had time to be that upset about it. “And honestly, the fact they’re just ‘fine’ is the problem. Taylor was fine, Natalia was fine, Tommy is fine. I’m tired of fine.”

“Then what do you want, Evan?” Maddie asks, not accusatory, but genuinely curious, like the two of them can figure this out right now if they just try.

The thing is – Buck already has it figured out.

“I didn’t have to ask Eddie to do any of the things he did today. He just did it, even though it was stuff he doesn’t really care about. He did it because he listens to me when I talk and because he knew it would make me happy,” Buck says, lowering his voice and peeking out at the backdoor to make sure nobody else is listening. “I never have to ask. I never have to wonder if he’s paying attention. I talk to Tommy and his eyes just, like, glaze over and he hums along until he sees an opening to make it about himself. Eddie has been in hell this last month, and he still did this for me because he cared enough to try.”

Maddie nods, her eyes bright, a little wet. Buck doesn’t know why.

“I never have to worry if he’s going to meet me halfway. Or more than halfway if I need him to. And all day today, I kept thinking that I wouldn’t have had that much fun with Tommy. Or with anyone, really. And those first couple of weeks after Christopher left, I got kind of – wrapped up in trying to make sure he was okay, and that was still more enjoyable than any of the time I spent with Tommy, because it didn’t feel like I was with someone who didn’t care if I was there. And I figure if that’s the case, then Tommy isn’t it for me. Maybe – maybe nobody else can be it for me.”

“Buck, does he know –”

“No, God, I can’t tell him that. Not now, anyway. He’s – I love him, but he’s a mess right now. I can’t put that on him,” Buck says, running his hands through his hair. “He doesn’t need that from me right now, he needs me to be his friend. No strings attached.”

“What about what you need?”

“I have it,” Buck assures her. He really, really does have all that he needs. Well, he’d definitely take Christopher back, but he’s willing to wait. “I have my friends, and you, and Jee, and I have him. I don’t need more than that if he can’t give it to me, now or ever.”

Maddie opens her mouth to respond, but Eddie sticks his head in the backdoor and says, “Food’s ready. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Buck says, and he turns to grab the salad bowl off the counter. Eddie nods slowly and leaves them alone again, and he’s knocked into the counter by Maddie throwing her arms around him. “Maddie?”

“I just love you, and I’m proud of you,” Maddie says, her voice cracking. “And I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Buck says, wrapping his free arm around her. “I promise.”

Maddie nods and dabs at her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse, and they head out to join the rest of the party.

Half an hour later, after they’ve all eaten and showered Maddie and Bobby in praise for how good it was, Eddie goes into the house and comes back ten minutes later with a cake that has so many candles in it that it definitely counts as a fire hazard.

“Did you put thirty-three candles on this cake?”

“Absolutely. Payback for all the times you said you couldn’t fit candles on a cake for as old as I am.” Eddie says. “Now blow them out before they singe our eyebrows off.”

Buck does as he’s told and it’s a good thing they did this outside, because the amount of smoke it generates would definitely have set the alarms off inside the house. It’s chocolate cake with buttercream icing, with Happy Birthday, Buck! written in purple on the top. Buck scrapes half the icing off of his and puts it on Eddie’s plate like he always does, and that earns him a warm smile that looks like something out of a picture with the way the warm patio lights paint Eddie golden. 

They all leave after they’ve kept Jee-Yun up two hours past her bedtime, and she gives him a sticky kiss on his cheek and says, “Love you, Uncle Buck,” when he carries her inside from where she’d fallen asleep on the patio chair. 

It’s a damn good birthday.

Eddie drives him home. When they pull into the parking lot, Eddie says, “Pretty good birthday?”

“It was the best,” Buck says. “Really, you – thanks.”

“You deserved it,” Eddie says, sweet in that honest way he always is, saying something that warms Buck to his core in the same way he might say it’s raining. Like it's a fact. “You’ve done so much for me lately and I don’t know if I could have handled it without you. It’s the least I can do.”

“You know you don’t owe me, Eddie.” Buck says. “I want to be there for you.”

“I know I don’t,” Eddie promises. “Doesn’t mean you don’t still deserve it. And I didn’t get you anything, so.”

“You didn’t need to. Today was more than enough.”

Eddie’s smile is soft, easy, too close to Buck in the cab of the truck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck whispers back.

There’s a long stillness between them, both of them leaned towards the middle of the truck. Eddie swallows so loud that Buck can hear it, and for a moment, it seems like –

Eddie looks over Buck’s shoulder out the passenger window and says, “Uh, looks like someone is waiting for you.”

Buck turns and looks. Tommy is leaning against his car across the parking lot, phone pressed to his ear. Buck is willing to bet that if his phone wasn’t turned off, it would be vibrating like crazy in his back pocket. 

“Um,” Buck says. He turns back to Eddie and finds he’s leaned the opposite direction now, almost against his door, his face schooled into something unreadable. “Thanks, for today. I’ll see you at work.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. And if – call me. If you need me.”

Buck tries a smile, says, “you, too,” and gets out of the truck.

Tommy catches sight of him as soon as he closes the truck and it takes Eddie just long enough to pull out that he sees the moment Tommy recognizes it.

“I’ve been calling you,” Tommy says, voice tight. He’s annoyed, but so is Buck, so it’s a little hard to care. “You didn’t answer.”

“I turned my phone off while we were at Maddie’s,” Buck answers honestly. The constant buzzing was drawing looks. “Sorry.”

Tommy’s expression is indecipherable. “I didn’t get called in. I wanted to take you out.”

“Eddie and Maddie already planned something.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday, Evan?”

In the beginning, Buck wasn’t too bothered by the constant use of his first name. He didn’t get it, wouldn’t have chosen it, definitely didn’t tell Tommy to call him that, but it was fine. Lately, though, it grates his nerves. The overfamiliarity of it.

“I forgot. Eddie showed up and surprised me this morning or I wouldn’t have remembered at all,” Buck explains. He doesn’t want to fight out here in the parking lot, and he’s definitely not inviting Tommy in so his boyfriend can try some lame line about making it up to him with birthday sex. “Listen, it’s late and I have a shift in the morning. Can we do this later?”

“No, we can’t,” Tommy says. “What’s going on with you? You’re screening my calls, I’ve barely seen you in weeks, you didn’t tell me it was your damn birthday. I mean, did I do something?”

That. That question sets Buck off.

“No, Tommy, you didn’t do anything. That’s the problem.” Buck says, pulling his hand away where the other man was reaching for him. “You didn’t know today was my birthday because you never asked. You don’t ask me anything. You don’t know anything about me and every time I try to talk about something that’s not our jobs, you shut me down. So no, you didn’t do anything, and I don’t expect you to. You won’t even meet me halfway.”

Tommy steps back, mouth open in shock. “I – I didn’t know you felt that way, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Buck says, because it is. He’s already emotionally checked out, probably has been for a while. “This was fun, and thanks for the – bi awakening or whatever, but this isn’t really working. I think we should – I think we’re done.”

Buck turns to walk away, to go inside and enjoy the dwindling hours of his birthday, when Tommy calls, “Evan!”

Buck turns back around. “It’s Buck! It’s always been Buck!”

When he gets inside, he stands and stares at the crooked birthday banner Eddie had hung this morning, and he leaves it where it is.

Evidence that somebody loved him enough, in whatever that capacity may be, to make an effort for him.

–

When Eddie goes to therapy the Monday after Buck’s birthday, he says, “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Frank looks around like he’s not sure he’s meant to respond to that, like Eddie is setting him up somehow. Finally, he looks back at Eddie and schools his expression into his usual professional blankness. “What do you mean?”

“Buck’s birthday was last week,” Eddie begins to explain, sitting forward in the chair. “And I wanted to do something nice for him, you know? He’s been a godsend since – well, since I met him, but especially since Christopher left. Without him, God knows what I would have turned into. And we had a really good day. Like, a great day. And we talked about how it was fine for me to enjoy myself while Christopher was gone.”

“It is. It’s good for you to do things outside of being a father.”

“Right, and I get that, okay, really. I do. That’s not the problem.” Eddie says.

“Okay,” Frank says slowly. “Then what is? ”

“I took him home when we left his sister’s place and he was – I was – something was happening. Like, we had a moment.”

“A moment.”

“A moment, ” Eddie repeats, emphasizes. “Like an I-thought-he-was-going-to-kiss-me moment.”

“And?”

“And I think I wanted him to?”

Frank is quiet for a long moment. “I still don’t get the problem, Eddie.”

When Eddie resumed his therapy sessions last month, one of the first things they worked on was Eddie’s tendency to see Shannon through rose-colored glasses. It’s because you feel guilty, Frank said, about how things turned out with her. If Eddie only remembers the good parts, then he can keep all the blame for himself and not put any on her. He’s still working on it – acknowledging that he loved her, and she loved him, but what they were together wasn’t good. It wasn’t fated, it wasn’t even healthy. He’s allowed to acknowledge that and still miss her. He’s allowed to grow beyond his grief for her.

And that felt good. He knew Shannon well enough to know now that – she wouldn’t want him to live the way he has been since she left him the first time. She would want him to be happy, even though she’s gone. She would actually probably be pretty pissed off that he’s been making himself miserable as penance for not being a good husband to her. 

Not everything is as black-and-white as you’re right and I’m wrong, Eddie, she used to say. Sometimes, there’s a gray area, and that’s okay.

More than that, she’d be livid he’s been messing up their son in some misguided attempt to make a nuclear family.

She messed him up, too, but he’s the one still actively giving Christopher material to take into therapy.

Anyway, the thing Frank said in their first session that kind of stuck was that it’s okay if Shannon wasn’t the love of his life. It’s okay that he loved her, but he might love somebody else more in the future. Moving on is proof of growing.

So, that’s what Eddie has been doing. Moving on. And his mom found Christopher a great therapist in El Paso that specializes in grief, so maybe his son is moving on, too. Maybe they can both grow around the hole Shannon left in them, and make room for someone new some day down the line.

But then, that meant Eddie had to abandon the belief he should be finding Christopher a mother, and start thinking about what he wanted.  

Which opened a whole new can of worms.

“The problem is that it’s Buck,” Eddie says. “Buck as in my best friend, work partner, kind of co-parent, completely engrossed in all aspects of my life. Buck.”

Frank, honest to God, rolls his eyes at Eddie. “Yes, I know who Buck is. He comes up often.”

“Okay, so you see how me maybe wanting him to kiss me is a problem,” Eddie says. “I don’t even – I’ve never – I’m still getting used to maybe liking men at all.”

“Eddie,” Frank begins, and that’s his you’re an idiot but I’m your therapist so I can’t say that to you voice. “I know that the prospect of your sexuality is something that’s still very new to you, and you don’t have to settle into it right away. But part of growing as a person is being open to new possibilities when they’re presented to you. So, I recommend not shooting this down immediately. I think you should give yourself some time to feel it.”

Eddie hates when he says that. He’s always telling Eddie that compartmentalizing your feelings is not the same as feeling them, and that’s why when Eddie does feel them, it’s too much all at once and he blows his life to hell. Exhibits A, B, and C being fight club, quitting his job, and sneaking around with his late wife’s doppelganger. 

So, whatever. Eddie will feel his feelings.

The thing about maybe being into guys – if he’s honest with himself, it’s just Buck – is that it’s not something he ever let himself consider. He grew up a certain way; you finish school, you get a job, you meet a girl, you marry the girl, you have a family, you retire, you die. In that order.

Eddie didn’t do any of it in the right order – he got Shannon pregnant before he got a decent job, he married her after the fact, and he’s died a couple times since then. He already made more errors than were deemed allowable by his upbringing, and maybe being queer definitely was not an allowable deviation. Even if it had been, he had a kid and a wife and then a dead wife and he didn’t have time to think about all the things he was maybe-definitely feeling about his best friend.

He remembers a kid he went to high school with that came out, and though his parents never said anything directly out of the way, they looked at him with such – pity. Like the fact he liked boys was going to ruin his life before he even got to start. And while that was better than how everybody else treated him – like a social pariah and a surefire contestant for going to Hell for eternity – it sure as hell didn’t make Eddie feel like exploring his sexuality was something safe.

So Eddie didn’t. Even when he moved to LA and started at the 118 and was shown that they’d support him and love him no matter what, the made-up time frame Eddie had in his head of when you could have a sexuality crisis was long past. He met Buck and got feelings he’d never felt before stirred up in his chest, and he didn’t examine it, chalked it up to having a best friend for the first time in his life.

And Eddie’s not a devout Catholic, not even close, but he’s not not Catholic. He’s Catholic in the same way Michael Jordan was a baseball player. He’s fine at it, but it’s not what he’s best at.

Anyway, the Catholic church does not look kindly upon being gay. Let alone finding out you’re gay when you’re in your thirties and already had a wife. Then they think of it like you were lying.

Eddie wasn’t lying. He just really didn’t know.

When Buck came out, Eddie had this little moment of oh. Buck liked women, had always liked women, but when the possibility of maybe liking men, too, came up, he was open to it. And Eddie expected for it to feel different when it settled in that Buck had come out to him, but it didn’t. Buck was still Buck, just with a boyfriend. No different that he’d ever been. It didn’t change his relationship with their coworkers or Maddie or Christopher. Nobody thought less of him or doubted him or treated him any differently. He was just Buck with a new perspective on some things, and Eddie was still Eddie with a new perspective on some things as a result.

Like the fact that for some reason, the sight of Tommy and Buck together made him sick. For a second, he thought, have I been a secret homophobe this whole time, but then he scrolled through Hen’s instagram and felt nothing but love for his friend and her family, and he realized it probably wasn’t closeted homophobia. Nobody else gave him that sick feeling and that tightness in his throat except for Buck and Tommy.

Eddie tested the theory more. Spent time with Buck like always, waited for that feeling to settle in when Buck would get close like he always has, and it never did. Buck touched him and Eddie got that same bone-deep warmth that’s always come with it. 

So, really, the conclusion was that he just hated Tommy. Which was weird, because they’d been friends just a few weeks before. Tommy still reached out to him about basketball, how the Chevelle was running, shit like that, and Eddie just didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

When he mentioned this to Frank, he said it sounded like jealousy.

Which would explain why, on Buck’s birthday, he was happy things weren’t going well and pissed off that Tommy wasn’t treating Buck the way he should be in equal measure.

He’s maybe gay, probably a terrible friend, and definitely into Buck.

And his son still isn’t talking to him, so Eddie’s therapy agenda is getting crowded.

“I don’t know if I should feel it. About him.”

“Why not?”

Because he’s a man. Because he’s my best friend. Because he’s the most stable person in my son’s life, me included, and if I ruin that, Christopher will never forgive me. Because I’m a mess and he’s good to his core and I think I might break him.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for it,” Eddie says honestly.

“You don’t have to be ready for it right now,” Frank assures him. “But you also have to understand that you might never feel ready for it. Have you ever felt ready to be a father?”

“No,” Eddie says. “Maybe that’s why I keep fucking it up.”

“Eddie, you’re only human. You make mistakes, the same as we all do, but what matters is you try to fix them, and you keep showing up for your son. You’re never going to feel ready, but you do it anyway because you love him. You try to be better, because you love him.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that you need to let go of the idea that there’s a certain way you should be, or a certain way you’re supposed to love people, and just love them. Let yourself be sometimes, Eddie. Life is not about being the best or doing everything right. It’s about being the kind of man you can live with, and I think everyone else can live with the man you are. I just don’t know if you’ve learned how to yet.”

Eddie’s session is over pretty soon after that, but he can’t stop thinking about what Frank said. Being the kind of man he can live with. 

He’s never really thought about who he wants to be, he realizes. He’s thought about who he should be, who he has to be, but who he wants to be. He knows the kind of man he didn’t want to be – as much as his father is trying now, Eddie still doesn’t really see him as a role model. Straightbacked, strict, unforgiving and unbudging until recently, a no-bend bottom line and zero tolerance for anything outside of what he deemed as acceptable. He didn’t ever want Christopher to feel the way Eddie felt growing up – like there wasn’t room to breathe.

Eddie may be a screw up, but he thinks he at least managed to make Christopher feel like he was loved regardless of who he decided he wanted to be.

On the drive home, Eddie catches his own gaze in the rearview. The freckle beneath his eye, the wrinkles he has forming at the corners, born of growing up and years of laughter since he found his place in Los Angeles. Long shifts at the station, delirious with adrenaline and lack of sleep, laughing at nothing with his team. Laughing at Christopher’s jokes as he grew up, honed that sharp wit he learned from Eddie. Smiling at Buck for saying something ridiculous or doing something stupid or because he was smiling at Eddie. 

Maybe that’s the kind of man he wants to be – the guy he is when he’s forming smile lines in his own face subconsciously, not overthinking his every word or trying to be three moves ahead. Not sitting in his own head, trying to think of and think out of every worst-case scenario, or trying to mold himself into the kind of man who meets a girl, marries her, makes a family. He doesn’t want to be the guy who performs anymore. He just wants to be.

He goes home to his empty house and he looks at himself in the mirror and he promises himself that one day, he’ll like the man looking back.

–

Two weeks later, well into July, Eddie goes to work and something is off. Like everything moved an inch to the right; not bad, just different.

Working under Gerrard was kind of like what Eddie imagines prison is like. Everything was dark, dull, keep your head down and keep your mouth shut, get through the day without causing any trouble. It was like the sun shined as usual everywhere except through the windows of the firehouse. Today, everything feels technicolor, like Eddie’s vision improved overnight. Buck told him about how there’s a part of your brain you don’t use that means you don’t see every color that actually exists; Eddie wonders if he unlocked that in his sleep.

He heads into the locker room; it’s empty already. He’s always the last one in. He swears it’s because he lives the farthest, but it’s really because he always snoozes the alarm too many times. Buck says Eddie’s catching up on his sleep deficit from his time in the army and too many overnights as a firefighter; Eddie’s just never really liked getting out of bed. 

He puts his uniform on and takes more care than he used to have to, lest he invoke Gerrard’s wrath during line-up. The first time he had to do one of those – the first real time, his time under Interim Captain Han notwithstanding – he felt like he was back in the army and a commanding officer was looking to see if he had even a loose seam in his uniform. Eddie got reprimanded for his nametag being off center, and then for scoffing in Gerrard’s face. There’s an official write-up in his file for a uniform violation and insubordination. That night, when Buck showed up to the house and asked what Eddie got called into the office for, he laughed til he cried at the irony of a military guy getting in trouble for disrespecting the chain of command.

He wonders if he should have shaved that morning, if that’s going to be what gets him in trouble during line-up today, but before he can decide to snag one of the cheap disposable ones they keep in the supply closet, Buck comes bounding in with a smile on his face. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Eddie says, warily. Buck’s eyes are alight and he’s smiling so hard his dimples are out in full force, making Eddie want to take his index finger and poke them. “What’d you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something?” Buck asks, stepping up behind Eddie. He inspects him in the mirror. “Are you boycotting your razors?”

It’s been two days, less stubble than he used to wear back when they first met, and Eddie rolls his eyes. “I overslept. I assume you did something because usually, you did.”

“Well, this time, I am completely innocent. Scout’s honor.”

Eddie turns around and finds he and Buck are barely an inch apart. Being that close to Buck’s grin and his broad chest and the smell of his aftershave is really bad for Eddie’s sanity, but it’s intoxicating and he doesn’t move away. “You were not a Boy Scout.”

“God, no, you know my parents didn’t sign me up for that because then they’d have had to drive me,” Buck says. “But I totally could have been.”

“Sure,” Eddie laughs. “Seriously, what is with you? Did Gerrard drop dead or something?”

“Would you judge me for being happy if he did?”

“Hell no. I’d get a cake made for the occasion.”

Buck laughs, melodic, and tugs Eddie’s arm. “Come upstairs.”

“No, wait, why?” Eddie says, but Buck’s already dragging him along. “Buck.”

“Just come. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Yes, and I’m still paying the damage off at that hotel to prove it.”

“I maintain that that was all your fault,” Buck says, stopping at the stairs and pushing Eddie in front of him, like he’s afraid Eddie is going to make a run for it. “Go.”

Eddie goes, albeit begrudgingly, because he generally likes to delay looking at Captain Gerrard for as long as possible.

“Buck, seriously, if you push me up these steps one more time –”

“Eddie, you know the rules about threatening your coworkers.”

Eddie turns from where he was pointing at Buck and finds the reason the firehouse feels lighter – Bobby, standing at the stove like he never left.

“Cap!” Eddie exclaims, uncaring of how much he sounds like a little kid. “You’re back! Wait, you’re back, right?”

Eddie walks over and accepts a hug, sighing in relief when Bobby says, “Yes, I am back. Much to Gerrard’s displeasure this morning.” 

“Oh, Cap, you should have waited for us to get here!” Chimney says, slapping one hand on the counter. “I’d have paid to see that. Did you record it? You should have recorded it.”

Bobby fixes Chimney with an admonishing glare for a beat and then he breaks into a grin. “Yeah, I should have. Buck, come watch the eggs.”

Buck bounds over like he’s got springs in his boots and hip-checks Eddie away from the stove, still smiling.

“You know, if you keep making that face, it’ll get stuck like that.” Eddie teases, turning to the opposite counter to pour himself some coffee.

“I don’t even care,” Buck says. He sounds so happy Eddie is pretty sure birds and wildlife are going to start flocking to him and treating him like a real-life Disney princess. “Things are looking up.”

Eddie can’t wait to make his day even better. “Speaking of that – guess who called this morning?”

Buck looks up from where he was flipping the eggs, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. “Christopher?”

“Yep,” Eddie says, popping the p and trying to keep his giddiness in check. Eddie had texted Chris every day since he left, just a simple I love you, have a good day, and a week ago, Chris started sending back love u too. Today, Eddie sent the text, and his phone rang almost immediately after. “Asked when school was supposed to start, so. I think he’s thinking about coming home.”

“Eddie!” Buck exclaims. He abandons his post at the stove to throw his arms around Eddie, and then he lifts him up and spins him. Eddie’s legs turn to jello and he has to steady himself against the counter when Buck puts him down. “That’s great, man. See, I told you it would be alright.”

Eddie smiles into his coffee cup. “You sure did.”

Maybe Buck was right earlier. He never has steered Eddie wrong.

–

Buck almost kisses Eddie in early August. 

He doesn’t really mean to. Well, that’s not right, he does mean to kiss him, he just didn’t exactly mean to end up in a position where that was a possibility.

Christopher is due home in a week, two weeks before school is supposed to start, and things are going – fantastic, really. Chris is calling almost every day and he’s happy to be coming home, Eddie is so light these days that Buck is pretty certain he’s floating more than he’s walking, Hen and Karen’s custody hearing went perfect, Bobby and Athena bought a new house. Everything's coming up roses, really.

Eddie said that on the phone that morning, Christopher had mentioned maybe wanting to repaint his room. And by ‘maybe wanting’, he meant Christopher already had a color picked out and plans to redecorate. He’s a high schooler now, he’s bound to start developing new tastes. Buck ended up at Home Depot within an hour of the call ending.

It took them what felt like forever to clean and get the furniture moved and the decorations down so they could actually paint, it was nearing midnight by the time they started, but Eddie’s restless energy was rubbing off and Buck was far from ready to call it a night.

Halfway through the second wall, Eddie trips over the step ladder he was using to line the ceiling and falls straight into Buck’s chest, pushing him back into the wet paint.

Eddie straightens up slowly, mouth open in surprise and maybe glee, and says, “Sorry,” but he’s barely containing his laughter.

Buck says, “I think you did that on purpose.”

“No, I –” Eddie says, and then dissolves into laughter, head leaned forward against Buck’s collarbone and hand still braced on his hip. “Sorry, I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah, you seem sorry, jackass,” Buck gripes, but Eddie’s always had this contagious kind of giggle and he can’t help but to laugh, too. “We’re gonna have to repaint that.”

Eddie’s laughter calms and he stands up a little straighter, doesn’t step back. “I don’t know, I think Chris might like to have the imprint of you on his wall.”

“Like a permanent decoration,” Buck says, eyes focused on a smear of blue paint on Eddie’s cheek. “Gives the room character.”

Eddie catches him staring. “What, paint on my face?” He swipes at it and misses.

Buck reaches up before he can think better of it. For some reason, instead of smudging it away with a knuckle like he’s done to Eddie a million times, he rests his hand against Eddie’s neck and smooths over it with his thumb. “Got it,” he breathes.

Eddie sways a little. “Thanks,” he says, a little rough.

There’s another one of those moments, like the night in Eddie’s truck, both of them leaning towards a middle point like it’s got a magnetic pull they can’t resist. Buck can feel Eddie’s breath against his face, hear the way his inhales keep hitching, see the point his eyelashes touch his face when his eyes flutter.

His top lip brushes Eddie’s and –

Eddie puts his hand on Buck’s wrist and says, “I can’t.”

Buck feels like he’s been burned, but he’s boxed in against the wall and can’t get away. He misread it, he messed up, Eddie is finally getting back to normal and here comes Buck, bucking it up. “Right, so –”

“No,” Eddie stops him, his grip tightening and his other hand coming up to rest on Buck’s chest, right by his heart. “No, it’s not – I want to. I really, really want to. But I’m – I need a minute, okay? I need to – Christopher.”

Eddie wants to. Eddie wants – him. 

“Okay,” Buck says, nodding. “Okay. You can take as much time as you need. I’ll be here.”

Eddie says. “Not forever. Not long. Just –”

“Eddie, I don’t care how long it takes. If you want me, I’ll wait as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie looks up at him, eyes wide and gleaming with tears and promises and the rest of Buck’s life, and he says, “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure it’s going to be okay. I don’t want to blindside him. Again.”

Buck can’t help himself, he’s greedy and weak and horribly in love, so he leans his forehead against Eddie’s. “You don’t have to be sorry. I told you, I’ll be here either way. This isn’t a – a requirement. I’ll love you regardless of whether or not we’re together.”

Eddie’s breath hitches and he lets out something between a sob and a laugh. “Okay. Okay, Buck. As long as it takes.”

Eddie has always been a stronger man than Buck, so he’s the one to step away. Buck misses his warmth immediately, wants to reach out and reel him back in and keep him there until the paint dries, but he lets him go and pulls himself away from the wall. The imprint sends Eddie into a laughing fit again, and he makes Buck pose with the imperfection for a picture.

They finish hours later, painting until almost four AM in companionable silence. Buck washes the paint out of his hair with Eddie’s shampoo and pulls clothes out of the drawer in Eddie’s dresser that’s reserved for him, and makes up the couch like he always does. 

Eddie watches him from the doorway, a smile pulling at his mouth. “Are you gonna be here when he comes home?”

“If, uh, if you want me to be, yeah. I’d love that.”

Eddie tilts his head, eyes soft. Buck wonders if he’s always looked at him like that, if he just never caught it. It makes him a little lightheaded. Eddie crosses the room and hesitates, just a second, before he pulls Buck into a hug.

“I always want you here, Buck,” Eddie mumbles into the crook of his neck. “Always. You don’t ever have to go.”

Buck hears I love you, too.

–

Christopher is adamant that Buck and Eddie don’t pick him up from the airport. He says he wants them to wait for him at the house, and Eddie doesn’t want to upset the kid as soon as he gets back, so he’s vacuuming the living room for the fourth time.

Eddie is wondering if he should do the couch again too when Buck comes in and unplugs the vacuum from the wall.

“I was using that,” Eddie says, walking over to plug it back in.

Buck swats his hand away. “The carpet is as clean as it’s ever going to get. Also, Christopher doesn’t care if it’s clean at all.”

“I don’t want him to think I didn’t clean while he was gone.”

Buck gives him a look, and Eddie knows they’re both thinking about the night he woke Buck up from where he was sleeping on the couch because he decided he needed to scrub the kitchen floor at three in the morning and accidentally spilled the water bucket everywhere. The house is probably cleaner after these three months than it was when Eddie bought it. 

“Eddie, he knows you’re a clean freak. We all know that.” Buck says, gently taking the vacuum from Eddie’s hand and winding the cord up. “Whatever he thinks, that definitely won’t be it.”

Eddie shakes his hands a little and takes a deep breath, nodding. “I’m just nervous. What if he’s not really ready to come home? What if he wants to leave again?”

“Your mom said he’s been talking about it for a while and when she called this morning, she said he seemed excited. He’s not going to want to leave again.” Buck says. He puts both hands on Eddie’s shoulders and squeezes, his thumbs pressing in just under Eddie’s collarbones. “Calm down, okay? You’ve got nothing to be nervous about.”

“I can’t screw up again, Buck, I –”

“Hey,” Buck says sharply. He shakes Eddie once, just enough to snap him from the spiral. “Remember what you told me after I lost him in the tsunami?”

“That’s different. This –”

“Eddie.”

Eddie sighs. “Yes. I remember.”

“I screwed up, no matter how you spin it, and you told me it was okay because I loved him enough to never stop trying,” Buck reminds him, his voice soft. One hand shifts and lands on Eddie’s neck, his thumb stroking over the bolt of his jaw. “So it’s okay that you screwed up, because you’ve been trying to make it better. As long as you keep trying, it’s gonna be okay.”

You try to be better because you love him.

Eddie sighs and leans forward, arms coming up to wrap around Buck’s waist. Buck catches his weight like he knew he would. “What would I do without you?”

“Don’t know,” Buck hums into his ear. “You don’t ever have to find out.”

Eddie’s familiar with minutes where the world spins on without Buck, and three minutes was more than he could stand. Never knowing what that’s like again sounds pretty good to him.

Eddie’s phone chimes in his pocket and he pulls away to check it. His heart hammers in his chest when he reads the message.

“Mom said they’re five minutes out,” Eddie chokes out.

Buck runs off to the kitchen to get dinner out of the oven – lasagna because Christopher doesn’t believe he finally nailed the recipe – and Eddie can’t do anything but stand in the same spot he was in three months ago when Christopher left.

He hears his parents' rental car pull up to the curb. “Buck,” he calls.

“Coming, I’m coming,” Buck calls back. A second later he bursts out of the kitchen door, hands flying over his chest to smooth his shirt out.

When the front door opens, time kind of – stops for a minute. The same way it did when he saw Christopher at the field hospital all those years ago, a miracle right before his eyes. 

Christopher steps over the threshold and meets Eddie’s eyes, and his face lights up. “Dad!” He exclaims rushing forward. 

Eddie goes to meet him halfway, lifting him up into his arms like he’s still three instead of thirteen and too tall for this kind of thing. It doesn’t matter, because he’s home. He’s home because he wanted to be, and he’s excited to see Eddie, and nothing beyond that matters. They’re okay.

“Oh, I missed you,” Eddie says, covering the back of Christopher’s head with one hand. His hair is long, curly, knotted from the flight and the fact he’s probably still refusing to comb it like he needs to. “I missed you so, so much.”

“I missed you too, Dad,” Christopher says, clinging to Eddie like he hasn’t in years. He leans back enough for Eddie to see his face, still the same as it’s always been, just older, more like Eddie’s by the day, Buck keeps telling him. His son’s face is wet with tears, lips twisted like he’s fighting off a sob. “I’m sorry I left. I’m really sorry, I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, mijo, I’m not mad at you. Not even a little bit, okay? It’s okay that you were mad at me. I was really mad at myself.” Eddie says, tears welling in his own eyes. When they fall, he doesn’t try to catch them before they can be seen. “You’re home now and that’s all that matters to me.”

Christopher nods and buries his face back into Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie would hold him forever if he could, but he’s not exactly young anymore and Christopher isn’t as small as he used to be when Eddie packed him around like this, so he’s forced to set him back on his feet. It’s only then he notices that they’re alone and Buck has ushered his parents into the kitchen.

Buck laughs, real and genuine, which strikes Eddie as odd because his parents aren’t usually funny.

Christopher looks up at him and smiles. “Buck’s here?”

“Is Buck here?” Eddie scoffs. “Of course he’s here, are you kidding? He missed you almost as much as I did, he wouldn’t miss this.”

Christopher rushes through the kitchen door, around the table and right into Buck’s waist, crashing into him so hard Buck stumbles to the side. 

“Hey, kid,” Buck laughs, ruffling his hair. He pulls away just long enough to kneel down in front of him. He puts his hands on Christopher’s arms and says, “Let me look at you. You’re getting tall, you know that? I missed you so much.”

Christopher rolls his eyes a little at the comment about him growing just like he does every time anyone mentions it, but he’s grinning a mile wide. “I know, Dad told me you missed me almost as much as he did.”

“Missed you just as much as he did,” Buck corrects, wrapping Christopher in a tight hug. “Did you have fun with your grandparents?”

“Yeah,” Christopher says, and then he looks over at Ramon and Helena, a little shy, before he leans in and whispers not at all quietly, “But not as much fun as I have with you and Dad.”

Eddie winces a little, braces for the admonishment from his parents about that being rude to say, but they say – nothing. Just laugh, shake their heads, sip from the cups of coffee Buck must have made them. 

“All we’ve heard for months,” Helena says, smiling. “‘Dad and I do this,’ ‘Buck took me here,’ ‘I wish Dad and Buck could see this.’ It was constant.”

“It was starting to give me a complex about if I really was a boring old man,” Ramon jokes.

“You are,” Eddie and Christopher say in perfect sync.

Buck gives an exaggerated shudder and stands up. “Forgot how weird it is when they do that.”

–

Eddie was a little nervous at the prospect of Buck having dinner with his parents, but it turns out he didn’t need to be.

Buck is nothing but pure, undiluted, charm for the entire affair. Cracking jokes, filling wine glasses, asking about Eddie’s sisters and the other grandkids. He’s pretty sure Helena and Ramon already like him more than they’ve ever liked Eddie, Adriana, and Sophia combined. Eddie even finds himself enraptured – not that that’s different from any other time, but he’s pretty sure he’s abandoned all hopes of subtlety and has I love Evan Buckley written on his forehead.

He sneaks off a text to his sisters before dessert.

-

Sophia, Adriana

Pretty sure I’m losing my title as Mom and Dad’s favorite son.

Sophia

?  you’re their only son

Adriana

oh no

they met buck didn’t they

Adriana

not fair

how come everyone has met eddie’s

hot boyfriend except me :(

They’ve met him before.

He’s just not usually this charming.

It’s like he’s trying to impress them or something.

What’s weird is that it’s working.

Dad said he was a “good young man.”

Adriana

high praise from dad

gotta impress the future in-laws

Sophia

i’ve seen his instagram

color me extremely impressed

Adriana

cool it, you horn dog

that’s eddie’s husband you’re thirsting over

Sophia

did you finally steal him from that old guy i saw on his instagram story?

puke, btw.

I didn’t steal him.

Eddie pauses before his next reply.

He was mine first :) 

-

He knows his sisters well enough to know that’s going to cause them to send about a hundred texts, so he silences his phone just in time for Buck to come back to the table.

“You made peach cobbler?” Christopher says, delighted.

Eddie is less delighted only because he saw how much sugar Buck put into the mixing bowl.

“Still your favorite, right?” Buck asks, nerves suddenly appearing around the corners of his mouth.

“Duh,” Christopher says. “Can I have ice cream?”

“Ask your dad,” Buck says, but he’s already walking slowly back towards the kitchen.

“One scoop,” Eddie says, even though he knows Chris will ask for a second one later and he’ll say yes again. He’ll be a responsible parent tomorrow. Tonight, he’s spoiling him. “I mean it, Buck!”

“I hear you, Eds!” Buck calls back from the kitchen in a way that says he heard him and he is definitely not listening.

Helena turns to Eddie when the kitchen door swings closed. “I like him,” she whispers.

Eddie looks over at his Dad and Christopher and sees them engaged in their own conversation – and what a difference that is from Eddie’s own childhood. He can count on one hand the number of times he laughed when talking to his father. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bitter about it, but more than anything, he’s glad Christopher doesn’t know the version of Ramon that Eddie did. 

“Yeah, Buck’s great,” Eddie says. “Christopher loves him.”

Helena quirks an eyebrow and gives him a knowing smirk. “Just Christopher?”

Eddie sputters and feels his face heat. “Mom,” he says.

“Oh, Eddie,” Helena swats his arm. “Your father and I have never been blind or stupid. You’re not fooling us.”

“Fooling you about what?” Christopher asks.

“Nothing, mind your business,” Eddie says, and Christopher glares.

“Secrets don’t make friends,” Christopher says, and he definitely got that from Buck.

Buck comes back with bowls, the ice cream, and a scoop. “Who’s telling secrets?”

“Dad,” Christopher says. “To Grandma.”

Buck quirks an eyebrow at him. “Tell me later?”

“Shut up and eat your dessert,” Eddie says, but when nobody else is looking, he mouths you already know.

Buck blushes so far down his neck that it disappears beneath his collar.

–

Eddie’s parents got a late flight back to Texas, so he and Christopher drive them to the airport not long after dessert is finished.

“You sure you wanna stay here?” Eddie asks Buck for the hundredth time, this time as he’s pulling his shoes on by the front door.

“Yeah, I’ll clean up, give you some time with your parents. Really, Eddie, it’s fine.”

“You’ll be here, though? When we get back?”

“You told me I never had to leave,” Buck says, straightening the collar of Eddie’s shirt. “Figured I’d take you up on that.”

Eddie wants to kiss him so badly he almost can’t stand it. “Please do,” he says. He peers around Buck’s shoulder to make sure everybody else is still in the dining room, and when he’s sure they’re alone, he leans in and kisses the corner of Buck’s mouth. 

“I’m gonna talk to Christopher. Soon. So just –”

“Don’t go anywhere,” Buck finishes for him, a little stunned. “Got it. Drive safe.”

Eddie promises he will and then he realizes how late it’s getting, so he ushers everybody out of the house – Helena won’t go until Buck promises to tag along the next time Eddie goes to Texas to visit – and into their cars.

Christopher nods off on the drive there and barely stirs long enough to tell his grandparents goodbye at the airport. Eddie leaves the truck in a spot that’s definitely going to get him a ticket and hugs his parents.

“Thank you,” Eddie says. “For taking care of him.”

Ramon claps him on the back and says, “Of course. And we hope – we hope you took some time to take care of yourself.”

“I did,” Eddie says. “Um, I’m – Buck.”

“Buck?” Helena repeats.

“I – he’s –” Eddie stops himself and takes a breath. Tries to remind himself he’s not a twenty-year-old single father anymore and his parents aren’t trying to take his son away anymore. They’re something like a family now, cobbled together, far from perfect but still trying. They still loved him enough to try. “He took care of me. He always does. And Christopher, too, and I think – he’s our family. He’s –”

Helena stops him from rambling anymore, cupping his cheek in her hand. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s okay. You know that, right? That’s okay. We love you no matter what.”

Eddie’s eyes well up with tears. It feels like someone took the weight of the world off his shoulders and he can finally breathe. “Even if –”

“No ‘ifs’,” Ramon says. “If you love him, that’s all that’s important to us. We want you to be happy. And we’re sorry we ever made you believe otherwise.”

Eddie sniffs and wipes his face with his sleeve, laughing a little to himself. “Good. That’s good. Because I think I’m gay.”

There’s a moment of silence and then both his parents wrap him in a hug so tight he can hardly breathe. It feels good, even if it might crack his ribs.  

“We love you, Eddie,” Helena says, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Come visit us soon, okay? Bring Buck.”

Eddie says, “We’ll try for Christmas.”

That pleases her, which in turn pleases his father, and as much as Eddie would love to stand here and revel in the fact he has his parents’ support for the rest of the night, they have a plane to catch. He waves at them until they disappear into the crowd and then he climbs into the truck just in time to miss getting a huge ticket for being parked in the drop-off lane.

When he gets home, he wakes Christopher and gets him inside to bed.

“Hey, Dad,” Christopher says as he slides under the covers. “I don’t need a new mom.”

Eddie sits down on the edge of the bed and smoothes Christopher’s hair off his forehead. “I know you don’t. Well, I know that now. I wasn’t – trying to replace your mom. Nobody could ever do that. I just didn’t want you to feel like there was something you were missing. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Christopher says softly. “But I’m okay with just you.”

Here’s his opening. 

“What if –” Eddie pauses and clears his throat. “What if there wasn’t just me? What if I met someone who makes me really happy?”

Christopher is quiet for a long moment and then he says, “It’s not her, though, right?”

Eddie says, “No, God, no. And I really am – so sorry about that. I wish I could undo it, but I can’t. I made a mistake and I promise, nothing like that will ever, ever happen again.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I forgive you,” Christopher says, patting Eddie’s hand. “But if you did meet someone – that would be okay. As long as they made you really, really happy. And they don’t look like Mom.”

Eddie laughs a little. “Those are reasonable stipulations. What if it was, uh, Buck?”

Christopher thinks about it for a minute and then he says, “Yeah, that’s fine. Just don’t be gross in front of me. Seeing your parents kiss is gross.”

Eddie snorts and leans forward to kiss Christopher on the forehead. “Goodnight, mijo,” he says.

“Night, Dad,” Christopher says. “Hey, will Buck come say goodnight?”

“When has he ever not?” Eddie says, knocking his knuckles on the door frame on his way out.

True to form, Buck ducks in Christopher’s room as soon after Eddie sits down on the couch. He’s in there a while, and when he comes back, he has the same shell shocked look he had earlier when Eddie kissed him. 

“What?” Eddie asks.

Buck sits down on the couch beside him, their thighs pressed together. “Just – that kid, man.”

“He’s something, that’s for sure,” Eddie says. Something wonderful.

“He said, uh,” Buck smiles and rubs a hand over his mouth. “He said it was okay with him if we were together, and it won’t weird him out if I stop sleeping on the couch.”

“I don’t know where he gets that penchant for being blunt from,” Eddie says, fake innocent.

“Oh, couldn’t be from you,” Buck says, turning to face Eddie with a grin. He puts a hand on Eddie’s chest and rests the other on the back of his neck, fingers twirling into the short hair. “You’re so tactful.”

“Always,” Eddie says. “Hey, do you wanna move in?”

Buck laughs and says, “Yeah, I’d love to,” and kisses the response out of Eddie’s mouth. 

He kisses him until Eddie’s flat on his back on the couch, laughing into Buck’s mouth, licking the taste of peaches off his lips.

Eddie might not be ready, and he might not be any good at this, but he loves Buck enough to try.

That’s all that matters.