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If it were anyone else in the entire fucking universe he’d except it. Anyone else at all and he’d go on his goddamn merry way and never ever think about it again. But of course, it had to be the one person he cannot ignore. He can’t live without. The person who makes his skin feel like it’s hot in the summer sun, craving a cool breeze, prickling with sweat and anticipation. And who he can feel even in a dark room, with his eyes closed, metres apart, by a shiver down his spine and the faint scent of tea tree. Who makes the saliva feel thick in his throat like he ate too much dairy and yet there’s another ice cream left to eat. Who makes him feel proud and loved and whose warmth is like a mother’s hug (but not his mother). It is the one goddamn person who is home because who else would feel like home if not the person you are desperately, disastrously in love with. Tsunami-lightning-strike-mud-slide-gunshot-all-in-one love. And god he has goose flesh just thinking about him.
A man who, right now, he should be pissed at. And sympathetic to.
It's not everyday you go from 3 girlfriends and a son to loveless and childless. But that’s what happens when you cheat on your girlfriend with a woman who looks like your dead ex wife who you are also cheating on (at least emotionally) with the idea of your actual dead ex wife and your wonderful, non-cheating son and official, loyal girlfriend notice.
So Eddie fucked up and Buck has to balance being angry and sympathetic and so in love he might as well be unfaithful to his own boyfriend.
Which means Buck must do the only thing he knows how to do in situations like this: be funny. If he can’t act like a normal, mature human he may as well be the comic relief. Buck must do his duty and log on to TikTok to find Eddie the very best, most amusing clips either of them have ever seen.
To be honest, Buck wasn’t sure the plan would work but he has a small bank of TikToks for Eddie and, now that they pretty much live together since Chris’s departure, plenty of time to watch the curated content. Eddie enjoys an AI country song, but critiques the use of AI for art, stares in confusion at a French woman commentating on a water filled rubber rat, gasps at someone use an Elmo voice to narrate peeing in public, asks Buck to send him a basketball clip, and goes completely silent when Buck shows him a meme about man greeting his husband.
“Do you want to see the rest?” Buck asked, the video of two men bro hugging then kissing loops on his phone.
“Uh.” After a long pause. “Sure.” Buck realised maybe 3 videos too late that Eddie wasn’t as enthusiastic about the queer humour as he was. It’s not like Eddie’s bigoted, but Buck guesses it is awkward when you can’t relate, so he pulled up a pickle mascot stripping.
“What would you do if that were me?”
“If you were stripping?” Eddie furrowed his brows, but gave a hearty laugh.
“No! If I was a pickle mascot.”
“I think it would be funnier because… well, you’re you. It is very Buck, but also, not like you at all.” Eddie poked Buck between the ribs.
“How is that me?!”
“Because you love making people laugh and smile. You’d do just about anything to make your friends happy.”
And that’s how Buck began plotting to make his own videos. It wasn't like he never Ticked or Tocked, but this was serious business. No more 118 behind the scenes or candids of Chimney dancing and telling stories. This had to be serious and by serious Buck meant the funniest thing Eddie had ever imagined.
The problem with trying to be funny is that it is hard to make something funny. Humour is usually opportunistic. Buck could riff off of a call like no one else, but without anyone getting something stuck somewhere or misusing everyday items in painful though non life-threatening situations, jokes are hard.
What was not hard, however, was shocking people. So Buck waited for everyone to gather in the kitchen before moving in.
“Hey, kid,” Bobby clapped his shoulder. “What can I get you?”
“Nah, I’m not hungry, Bobby.” Buck shook his head and Bobby gave a disbelieving look.
“I’m making grilled cheese,” Bobby tempted.
“Well, if you’re making some…” Hen and Chimney laughed and teased Buck good-naturedly about his endless appetite. Eddie sat quietly, not making eye contact. He has been this way, staring at his lap and bouncing a leg, waiting and waiting, the past a few shifts. The last 21, to be more accurate.
“However, I came for Eddie.” Buck plops down on a stool next to his buddy. “Eds, I want your opinion of a song.” Eddie nodded and took a sip of his coffee. Buck holds out his phone, recording his and Eddie’s faces.
“Buck…” Eddie warned, but continued nursing his drink.
“No, really, I think you’ll like it.” Which of course meant Buck hit play on Good Lookin’ by Dallas Dixon and not a song that Eddie would like. Buck wasn’t quite sure what happened, but coffee made its way from Eddie’s mouth out his nose and onto the phone and counter. Eddie coughed and gasped for air, Hen laughed hysterically, while Chimney stood somewhat damp, checking over the younger man.
“Buck,” Eddie croaked.
“Jesus, Buck, you nearly killed him!” Bobby tried to stifle a laugh. “What is that noise?” Whether or not the song was funny to Eddie, Buck wasn't sure, but with everyone laughing he seemed content to join in.
“When have you ever heard me listen to country music?” Eddie asked. Not the qualm Buck expected him to have with the song, actually.
“You’re from Texas!” Buck stopped the recording to wipe off his phone. “You love 9 to 5.”
“You love 9 to 5; I love—“ Eddie stopped. He sighed, and Buck could’ve sworn he sounded disappointed. “I respect Dolly.”
“As you should.” Hen agreed. “Where did you find that?”
“Tiktok,” a voice behind them said.
“Hey, Ravi!” Chim gave him a hug.
“Just in time for lunch.” Bobby plated a few sandwiches. Ravi and Buck both hurried to grab their grilled cheeses.
“My child uses Tiktok, is that what he sees there?” Hen asked. “I try to keep up, but…”
“I doubt Denny is a gay cowboy, Hen,” Ravi assured her through a mouthful of sinful, cheesy bread. He hugged her with one arm.
“And Buck is?” Eddie asked.
“I was a ranch hand and I am newly queer.” Buck put his hands on an imaginary belt and stood up. “Can you tell?”
“You don’t look any different bi or straight,” Bobby confirmed.
“You do dress better,” Eddie noted.
“You look like you want to be a cowboy,” Chim added.
“I have always been a great dresser!” Buck folded his arms and sat. “I’m very fashionable, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been wearing more knits. Collared shirts, like those polos.” Buck’s mouth went dry. Eddie noticed. Eddie noticed! “Now your shirts hug your muscles. Compliment then.”
He. Noticed.
“Thanks, bro.” If Buck involuntarily lowered his voice, no he didn’t.
With the first joke a success, Buck needed to figure out what else would make people laugh.
Maybe circus tricks would work. In middle school Buck tried running away to the circus and picked up a few skills. It only lasted three days, but three days of Maddie crying to come home was enough. It didn’t matter that the Buckley parents didn’t notice he was gone half the week. But that isn’t a funny story, so it is best to just use his juggling skills. Maybe he could convince Bobby to let him throw some of their fire axes or even bring in a unicycle. But is that even funny? Mayne it is more of an odd party trick and right now Eddie needs joy, not Clown Buck.
Maybe Buck could make a funny playlist. He always plays music for Eddie even if Eddie not so secretly dislikes most of the songs. But a funny playlist could work… but maybe would be too similar to the first joke.
Maybe Buck was thinking too much.
In fact, he thought so hard about how he could make Eddie happy he forgot to pay attention to his handsome, actually gay boyfriend.
“Buck?” Tommy continued waving a hand in his face.
“Sorry, just…”
“Preoccupied,” Tommy ended his sentence. Tommy’s lips moved, but Buck was only half listening. How could he when Eddie’s happiness rested on Buck’s ability to Tiktok? So far Buck’s video made Eddie laugh and garnered some positive feedback, but—
He saw Tommy look at the door and finally tuned in.
“I think we both know I’m not the one on your mind.” Tommy stood and left, his half-drunk beer pushed towards Buck. Buck wasn’t sure if that was the end of their relationship or just this date.
That probably wasn’t a question he should have to ask. It probably was even worse that Tommy was completely correct. While Buck obsessed over Tommy at first, for the past few months he hardly thought about him at all. Even when they were in the same room. Even on dates. And sometimes (most times), even during sex. Maybe this was for the best.
But that really was not important when Buck had no idea how to lighten Eddie’s mood.
It came to Buck at 3 am the next night while he scrolled through Instagram reels trying to ignore the invitation Eddie extended,
“I know you won’t leave me alone, so at least come to bed?” Come to bed. Not Eddie’s bed, just… bed. The bed.
Buck tried to refuse, but ended up lying about not feeling tired yet. There he was, newly single (or was he?) with a date in Eddie’s bed (as friends) and a new plan for a Tiktok (that he only needed to make because Eddie was depressed). Things could be worse. Could be better too, but Buck was not one to complain except when he was, which was often.
Maybe if he just stayed toward the edge of the bed he wouldn’t notice that they smell like Tide and Eddie’s soap and something natural and human he didn’t want to name. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the stuffed dragon under Eddie’s head that once smelled like the Johnson & Johnson Chris still used at 14 but had gone unwashed and unloved by its boy for too long.
Buck wished he couldn’t tell Eddie was awake by his uneven, tearful breaths and wished even more that he didn’t want to hold him, whisper that they could finally be together (selfish, selfish, selfish), that he’d do anything to bring Chris home.
“Hey,” he offered. Eddie responded by turning over and shoving his face in Buck’s side. Buck petted his hair gently. “I miss him, too.”
The next day was sunny and hot, like most California summer days tended to be. Buck forced Eddie to eat something more than cold oatmeal, but ignored the fact that he wore trousers and a hoodie on a 91° day.
“I’ll help you shave,” Buck let himself touch Eddie’s stubble that was rather quickly becoming a beard.
“Not today.”
“You love getting shaved by the barber,” Buck reminded him.
“We’ll be late.” It wasn’t true, but Buck knew when Eddie brought up leaving the house, he was desperate.
“You’re right. After this 24, though. I brought my aftershave over last week, you can use it.”
“The creamy one?” Eddie seemed slightly hopeful.
“Your favourite.” And Buck definitely wasn’t thinking about how they smell the same these days. How he smells like Eddie’s toiletries and detergent and Eddie wants to smell like his. Even if Eddie really just liked Buck’s fancy sensitive skin products because he secretly wanted $25 shampoo instead of the two-in-one that costs $4.99 at the grocery store, Buck is happy deluding himself.
But enough delusion, enough delay, they had work and that is the one thing Eddie still put his heart into. Well, that and a newfound love of coming of age movies and cheese flavoured snacks.
When Buck and Eddie arrived at the station they were almost half an hour early. Buck tried to be angry, but felt closer to tears than a shouting match. He opened his phone.
Buck: hey, kiddo, it’s me again. just saying i love you. miss you too.
He types and deleted the message four times before sending it to Chris.
Chris: Hey, buck. I’m at school. Everything okay?
Buck had half a mind to reply no, but there was no reason to blame a kid for Eddie’s fuck up. Besides, Chris was clearly lying. What kid had school in mid July?
Buck: of course. wondering how you are.
Chris: Talk at lunch.
Maybe Buck should tell Eddie that he will speak to Chris in just a few hours, but Buck worried it might be worse if Eddie knew Chris still talked to him. Buck tried to put all his feelings away in a tiny box that he could lock up until the right time, which usually never comes.
Bobby arrived instead, ten minutes later and not at all surprised to see them.
“Buck.” He hugged Buck. “Eddie.” He patted his shoulder. “Get any sleep?”
“Yeah.” Eddie smiled weakly. A lie.
“How many hours?” Eddie shrugged.
“Five?” He estimated. Cap looked at Buck, but nodded. Buck took the cue to follow Bobby.
“Five?” Cap asked.
“Two, not in a row,” Buck corrected him. “When we got him laughing a few days ago he actually slept.”
“But?”
“But he stayed asleep for 14 hours.”
“He’s feast or famine.”
“It is better than dying of sleep deprivation.” Buck tried to laugh it off as a joke, but there wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm.
“What about Chris?”
“He says everything is fine during the day, but when we talk at night he tells me he is lonely. Eddie’s parents aren’t right for him,” Buck admits.
“And who is?”
“Eddie.”
“What do we do?” Bobby asked like he didn’t have the same question last week or the week before.
“Keep Eddie alive until Chris is ready.” Buck and Bobby were so engrossed in their whispers they never greeted Ravi, Chim, or Hen properly, but no one seemed to mind today. Everyone knew it was a Bad Day for Eddie.
Buck decided he could not take the moping anymore.
“Hey, Hen.” He held his phone away from his body. “Does my shirt smell weird?” Hen hopped out of the ambulance. She looked slightly peeved before noticing the phone. Hen went to sniff the shirt and Buck planted a kiss on her head. She laughed.
“Isn’t someone sweet?”
“Who, me?” Buck acted innocent.
“You smell like Tide, by the way,” Hen snickered.
“Why’s that funny?”
“You don’t use Tide.” The ‘But Eddie does’ was implied.
Next was Chimney, who was trying to brew a pot of coffee at the overly complicated brewing station.
“Do you know what knob means on? So far I found the steamer and bean grinder.” Chim pointed to various buttons and valves. Buck pressed a glowing red circle. The machine let out a terrible screech before coffee started drizzling out of one of its many spouts. “Thanks!”
“Chim,” Buck began. “Does my shirt smell funny?” Chim leaned in and Buck smooched his hairline. They both laughed.
“Okay, bring it in.” Chim hugged him. “That’s a good brother!” He told the camera. Buck stopped the recording. “I get the joke.” Chimney chuckled.
“Uh, yeah…”
“The shirt you’re wear… it isn’t your shirt!” He explained. Buck tried to correct him, but Chim busied himself with two mugs of very hot coffee and Buck was not about to get in the way of Hen or Chimney and their boiling bean juice.
“Ravi!” Buck called out. He scurried up the stairs and found Ravi walking toward him. He whipped his phone out. “Does my shirt smell?”
“How would I know?” Ravi shook his head.
“Smell it.” Buck pulled the collar off his neck. Ravi looked into the camera then at Buck and lowered himself. Three kissies down, two to go.
“Hey, at least buy me a drink,” Ravi joked.
“What happened to dinner?”
“In this economy?” Ravi dapped Buck up and headed back to his seat. “I’m really into cards lately. You up for a game?”
“Sure, but I need to find Bobby and Eddie.”
Bobby was in his office instead of the kitchen.
“Hey, Cap, can you tell me if my shirt smells good?” Buck asked.
“Uh… okay, Buck.” Bobby took a whiff. Buck pressed his lips to Bobby’s forehead. Bobby stood up and smiled. He patted Buck on the back and kissed his forehead. “Fresh as a daisy. You’re all good, kiddo.”
Buck wanted to melt into a puddle of goo or shrink into a four year old boy wearing tiny denim overalls with a red shirt and say, “I love you, dad!” Instead, he gave Bobby a thumbs up and left to find Eddie.
Eddie was in the bunk room cleaning.
“Hi.” Buck popped his head through the doorway.
“Oh, hey.” Eddie sat upright and moved to stand. “I was just cleaning—“
“No, no, don't get up.” Buck sat next to him. “Room looks spotless.” Buck picked up the dusting brush.
“Thanks.” He took out his phone to begin his final segment. First, he tickled Eddie’s nose with the duster.
“Cut that out.” Eddie batted the duster away playfully. “You’re going to make me sneeze!”
“Fine, fine,” Buck relented. “I came to ask if my shirt smells.” Eddie looked at Buck sceptically. He took a big breath in then out and finally stuck his nose next to Buck’s armpit. Buck kissed his head, but instead of garnering a laugh, Eddie wrapped his arms around Buck and face-planted into him. He stopped recording.
“You don’t smell.” Eddie mumbled, pushing his head into Buck’s shoulder. Buck hugged him back. “And thank you.”
“For what?” Buck put his chin on Eddie’s head.
“If you need affection… you can just ask,” Eddie assured him. “I needed a hug too.”
“You can always ask me too. I know it hasn’t been easy. You haven’t been yourself.”
“I miss my baby.” Eddie doesn’t need to explain. Not to Buck. Probably not to any other parent. Eddie sat back and looked into Buck’s eyes. “I know my parents are filling his head with their bullshit. They tried it with me first. What it means to be a man. How to be an obedient son. It’s even worse because they think Chris is just some invalid. He’s an accessory for my mother to pull around, garnering sympathy.”
“That’s disgusting,” Buck interjected. How else could anyone react?
“And their… their ideas still fuck me up to this day. They’re so traditional, yet I’m not sure whose traditions they are. Be macho, don’t be emotional. Get angry, not sad. Fight and provide. Find a good wife, a Catholic girl. A Latina. She should be thin, but always finish her plate. A virgin that gives them grandkids. Breast-fed and not bottle.” Eddie’s face is hot, his shoulders tense. “Men should be smart, but not too smart. No one likes a know-it-all. He should be self-sufficient, but a woman is a mother, housekeeper, and cook. He should be a breadwinner, but have a nice, normal job. A nine to five, but six figures. And all of it is bull. That kind of life doesn’t exist anymore.” Eddie wiped a hand over his face. “That type of life… it’s not for me.” Buck is shocked, but unsurprised. This is more than Eddie has spoken in months. He probably has been thinking about it this whole time.
“What do you want?” Buck inquired, perhaps for not entirely selfless reasons.
“I don’t know. A wife and kid didn’t work out. I’ve tried being casual. Tried girlfriends. Half the time I wish they were someone else and the other half I wish I was.” The man flopped backwards onto the bed. “The only time I’ve ever been happy was when it was just Chris and I playing video games at your loft. Or our movie nights. Guy time. God, am I a misogynist?” Eddie wondered. Buck worried that Eddie had read his mind somehow. He felt the same way before coming out and now… well, Tommy wasn't the solution, but Eddie could be.
“I thought I was a fuck up. Dropped out of college, couldn’t hold a job, used women for sex instead of love.” Buck reminded him.
“And now?” Eddie looked hopeful. Buck wished he could say he has everything he wanted.
“I miss Chris. I don’t know what I’m doing with Tommy. I think we broke up, but I’m not even sure,” Buck admitted. “And yet, I’m happier than before. Well, not without Chris, but love-wise. Tommy may not be the one, but I can finally admit what I want. I want to fight fires by your side and find a woman or guy I really like,” like you, “and have a life. One outside of work.”
“I want that too, but it doesn’t seem the universe wants it for me,” Eddie joked.
“I want my work and home to bleed together. To have one big life.” And I want it with you.
“One big life,” Eddie echoed. “I like the sound of that.”
The call with Chris made Buck even more desperate to fix things.
“I want to come home,” Chris whispered. “But I’m scared to ask.”
“Dad will go get you.”
“I don’t want him to. I’m still angry.”
“What do you need?”
“You.” Chris’s voice cracked and Buck pretended it was puberty, but he knew it meant Chris was crying.
“Can’t I live with you?”
“I wish you could, bud. But I think that’d be hard to explain to your father.” His father who Buck was currently living with.
“I don’t think I can last the summer here.” Chris gasped for air. “I’m angry,” he repeated. “But I think I miss my dad.”
“I think,” Buck swallowed to keep from crying. “I think you should come home. Mope, yell, hide in your room. But come home.”
“Not yet.” Buck wanted to scream, why? “Will you see… if my dad’s mad. Does he… hate me?”
“Oh, Chris. He could never hate you. That shit he pulled had nothing to do with you— well, not in that way. Adults are just bigger kids. We do dumb stuff when we are hurting.”
“Like lie?”
“Yes. A lot. We are supposed to understand the world, but we usually don’t know anything.”
“So you think it’s safe? To come home, I mean.”
“Of course. You could come home today.”
“I still need time.”
“I understand.” Buck didn’t, but he wished he did. “How long?”
“Maybe two weeks. I’ll call Dad when I’m ready. Tell him we talked, but don’t say what about.” Buck made Chris promise on a Pinky Swear and Chris made Buck promise back. But hearing the words ‘two weeks’ gave Buck hope and anxiety. He wanted to tell Eddie, but he also didn’t want to betray Chris. Maybe if he just found a way to say it without actually using Chris’s words.
The difficult thing about sleeping in Eddie’s bed once is that it’s expected to happen twice. Tonight they got ready together, bumping arms as they brush their teeth, turning around to slip on PJs, standing at opposite sides of the bed watching the other. Eddie sat under the covers first, followed by a nervous Buck.
“I spoke with Chris. He didn’t say much, but I think he is almost ready,” Buck awkwardly comments. “He isn’t much of a Texas boy.” They sit in silence while Eddie considers it.
“I should call him.”
“I told him you want to talk. He will call when he’s ready.” Buck rolled onto his side to face Eddie. And good god, if Eddie isn’t beautiful. Tan skin and long eyelashes, damp hair slicked back, lips so pink they almost look fake, and just below the sheets, muscles that could save lives or kill. He is sculpted in a way not even Michelangelo could capture. All smooth, golden lines leading lower and lower until—
Well, that line of thought is certainly inappropriate in their current situation.
Eddie mimicked Buck’s position, gazing at his face, eyes scanning every feature, from across the bed.
“I…” Eddie swallowed. He put his hand out flat between them. Buck looked at his eyes, then placed his hand on top.
“You?” Buck offered a tentative smile.
“Can I hold you?” Eddie whispered. Buck nodded.
He scooted to the centre of the bed and rolled to his other side. Eddie joined him, tossing an arm over his torso and a leg between Buck’s. Eddie squeezed his other arm under Buck and pulled him closer.
What is this? Buck wished he could ask. Does this mean you love me? He wanted to demand.
But they remained silent. Eddie placed a kiss to the back of Buck’s neck.
“Just for the night,” Eddie murmured.
Buck wasn’t quite sure what this meant for their friendship, but both of them slept normally— slept well, for the first time in too long. They woke up tangled in each other, Buck’s face squished against Eddie’s sternum, fine hair tickling him and the scent of a hunky firefighter whirling through his nostrils. Buck pressed his lips to his friend’s pectoral once, then again.
“Good morning,” Eddie greeted him. Buck tensed. Eddie ran his fingers through Buck’s short curls. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He smiled. An organic, sweet smile that wasn’t brought on by a silly scheme. “Sleep okay?”
“More than. You?”
“I don’t want to get up, and for once… it’s because my… bed is warm.” What he didnt say was that his heart wasn’t so cold and empty either.
And that’s how their day went too. Warm. All bumping hands, picking each other’s favourite foods at the grocery store, splitting a pb&j while cleaning the house, taking turns stirring a pan of pasta sauce, flicking dish water at each other. At one point Buck stood over the stove, deep in thought, and Eddie came up behind him, almost pressed to him, and put a hand on his abdomen, right at his waist. Buck briefly wondered if it would move down, touch him in a place neither of them would acknowledge on the other. But then Eddie circled his hand on Buck’s stomach and said,
“Is someone hungry?”
The two of them were cautious. Whether it was about their unstable contentment with the hope of Chris returning or this… closeness, neither were sure. But come bedtime, they did the same as the night before, only Eddie didn’t have to ask. And maybe Buck put his pyjama trousers in the laundry so he could feel the skin of Eddie’s strong, taut calves against his.
After three nights he got a text from Tommy.
Tommy: did you think about what I said
And the truth is he didn’t. Buck didn’t even know what Tommy said. But he replied instead:
I’m sorry.
It had been over for longer than he wanted to admit.
His routine with Eddie continued every time they were home. Eddie would spoon Buck and one of them would just so happen to forget another article of clothing until, by the weekend, they held each other at night in nothing but their pants. And maybe Buck excused himself in the middle of the night because Eddie wore briefs. Not boxer briefs, but honest to god, briefs. They left almost nothing to the imagination and honestly, Buck didn’t mind. Buck wasn’t quite sure what the next step between them was. Should he buy himself a thong? Maybe dig out an old jock strap?
“Do you mind?” Eddie inquired on Sunday, about 2 am, breaking their no-talking-after-assuming-the-position streak. They both had dosed on and off earlier, but it looked like another sleepless night.
“Mind what?”
“That tomorrow the only thing we can take off are our underwear?” Eddie joked, snapping the waistband of Buck’s boxers.
“You noticed?”
“Have you ever seen me wear brief before?”
“So this is calculated, huh? You’re aware of whatever this is?”
“Hard not to be. You used to sleep in flannel pants and a t-shirt. I used to wear shorts.” Eddie traced his finger over Buck’s side, armpit to knee. “We used to sleep on opposite sides. Now I know you wiggle when you dream and always end up sleeping on top of me. I kiss your back and you pretend not to notice. You kiss my chest and I act like I don’t feel your lips.”
“What about today? You used my ass like a pillow while we watched TV.” Buck teased. “I noticed that.”
“Well this,” Eddie rubbed his crotch against the seam of Buck’s ass. “Is the perfect place to rest my chin.” Buck pushed back instinctively, then tried to shy away. They both laughed nervously, trying to ignore the growing warmth between their thighs. “So, what is this?” Eddie breathed.
“I don’t know. Tonight… let’s get some sleep. We have a shift tomorrow,” Buck said.
“And then it will be another 24 hours until we talk.”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
“Will you at least tell me… Am I the only one?”
“You always were.” And for once, Buck was being completely honest. They fell asleep shortly after, happy to ignore their growing needs if it meant keeping this new peace.
Their shift was busier than expected for the first 11 hours, but as quickly as the chaos mounted, it disappeared entirely. The 118 was exhausted, but it was still too early to sleep. Hen read a book about fostering and adoption in the loft while Bobby cleaned up dinner. Ravi and Chim played a racing video game, but their usual raucous cheers were far more tame groans and complaints. Buck sat on the changing room bench, fresh shirt in hand.
“Getting ready for bed?” Eddie leaned against the locker across from him.
“I don’t know. It’s only six and it feels like midnight.”
“Midnight? The sun’s out.” Eddie tapped Buck’s foot with his.
“That fire took me out. After the adrenaline wore off, I realised how much I wish I slept more last night.”
“I hope you sleep better tonight.” Eddie was so kind. And definitely didn’t have any ulterior motive.
“Me too, but I doubt it.” Buck pulled his shirt on and stood. “What about you?” Eddie crowded Buck against the bench.
“I have a few ideas.” They tilted their foreheads together. God, was this it?
This was it.
At first, it was a gentle press of the lips, then another. And finally, a tip of the tongue.
Buck had never tasted someone he wanted so wholly. Eddie reminded him of toothpaste and man. Slightly sweet. A little chemical-mint confectionery. And fuck, was his mouth warm. Buck almost forgot to breathe, but Eddie pulled his head away.
“We should find somewhere more suitable than a glass box.” Eddie gestured to the windowed walls. Buck noddsd his head in agreement, but leaned back in. They held each other at their waists. Eddie slid his hands down, while Buck’s travelled up. “Buck.” Eddie spoke into his mouth.
“I know…” Buck rubbed his nose against Eddie’s stubble, inhaling deeply.
“We had our kiss at work.” Eddie laughed. “Pretty ill-advised.”
“But very us.” Buck kissed his jaw.
“Let’s at least go to the bunks.”
“Oh, taking me to bed already?”
“No! Not at work.” Eddie gazed at a fire engine. “Maybe… one day.” Buck hummed. “No, but the bunk room will give us privacy. No one is going to sleep for a few hours.”
So, in the bunkroom, they kissed like kids trying it out for the first time. Like an old married couple exchanging promises. Like movie stars sealing a character’s fate. Like two bros sucking face. Like people who were so in love they somehow missed it and had years to make up for.
Buck had never been a tongue guy, but Jesus Christ, if he didn’t choke on Eddie’s he might die. He had never been so desperate just to kiss someone. So infatuated he wanted to drink his spit like a gin and tonic.
Eddie’s phone rang.
“Ignore it,” Buck begged. Eddie groaned, pulling his… friend? into his lap again.
“Let me just—“ He tried to fish the phone from his pocket. They momentarily separated, but it was enough for Eddie to notice his son’s name in huge white letters. “Chris!”
“Answer, answer!” Buck urged. Eddie swiped his phone open and cleared his voice.
“Chris.” His voice was warm and filled with love. “Hey, buddy.”
“Hi, dad.” Chris took a deep breath. “I,” he started. “I miss,” his voice cracked. “I miss you.
“Oh, son, I miss you too.” Eddie wiped the tears forming in his eyes.
“I want to come home,” he said the magic words and suddenly all three of them were crying. “When can I come home?”
The answer, it turned out, was the next day. Eddie had saved enough for a plane ticket. He kept the money in his bedside table just in case. Bobby offered, no, insisted, both men take next few days off. So they went home at 6 am, as planned, prepared Chris’s room with fresh sheets, a few water bottles, and a new light bulb in the lamp then celebrated with a nice long make-out session until it was time to leave for the airport.
“Do you think he’s gotten taller?” Buck asked.
“Oh, god, I didn’t even think about that. Do you think he’ll need a haircut?” Eddie worried. Buck’s eyes went wide and he shrugged. Eddie clutched onto the lunchbox filled with water and snacks for his son, complements of Buck.
Before they could fret too much, Chris was hobbling towards them with far too much luggage for one person to handle. Buck took his two suitcases so Chris could give Eddie a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re home, buddy,” Eddie told him.
“I’m glad to be home.”
“Welcome back, superman.” Buck tried to ruffle his hair.
“Hi, Buck.” Chris squeezed Buck. “Thank you.”
The day went by in a whirlwind of crying, talking it out, and showering each other in affection. Eddie let Chris stay up until midnight watching true crime and eating knock off girl scout cookies with Buck.
Around half twelve Eddie asked,
“How do you feel about sleeping naked tonight?”
“Sleeping?” Buck raised an eyebrow.
And Buck may have been teasing, but Eddie took him apart in so many ways, more times than he thought possible.
They woke up to the sun shining in through open blinds and the half-exciting, half-disgusting smell of sex.
Buck shuttered against every inch of Eddie’s gorgeous, muscled body.
“Hmmhh, go back to sleep,” Eddie groaned.
“Light,” Buck complained. Eddie pulled the covers over their heads. “Better.”
“Fuck, it reeks.” Eddie buried his face between Buck’s neck and shoulder. “You do too.”
“Oh, thanks,” Buck scoffed. He closed his eyes and let himself drift.
“It’s a little hot.” Eddie said, barely audibly, but it caught Buck’s attention.
“Oh?” He rubbed a leg against Eddie’s.
“Mhm…” Eddie kissed his neck. “I mean the temperature, baby.”
“Tease,” Buck complained, twisting to face his partner.
“You love it.”
“I love you, not the teasing.”
An hour later they were showered and dressed, making waffles in the kitchen with their son.
“Buck?” Chris dripped batter into the press.
“Yeah?”
“Do you live here now?” Buck looked at Eddie.
“I… guess so.”
“Cool.”
It had been a week and everything felt somewhat back to normal. Eddie and Chris started therapy, Buck officially moved in, and work was good. Buck helped Chris pick out his back-to-school supplies for September despite it being over a month away. Movie nights and game nights resumed, thankfully, but Chris was also more independent. He went out to the movies and meals with friends, tried his hand at cooking, and put the final touches on his very first gaming setup (with minor help from Karen and Denny). Most evenings he wound down by playing Splatoon or Minecraft with friends, and Eddie let it happen. He only stood outside his son’s door thinking about knocking every night.
“Aw, shit!” He heard through the door. Well, that’s new. “Yeah, I’m out.” Okay, good time to knock— “No, not much has changed besides my dad. He thinks I’m stupid.” Eddie wanted to bust through the door and tell Chris just how smart he was, but perhaps breaking down the door would be an invasion of privacy. “I know he doesn’t actually, Alex. But he’s totally fucking my other dad.” Eddie wasn’t sure if he wanted to scold Chris for language or hug him to death for calling Buck dad. “It’s nice, but sometimes I can hear stuff. Just their bed moving, I think.” Oh, that was not good. “It’s kind of gross. I found Buck’s underwear in the living room, totally not cool.” Okay, well now Chris was being dramatic. It was Buck’s clean underwear that got dropped while folding laundry and Chris knows that. “Hey, if you have a problem with my dads fucking, I have a problem with you.” Which again, awww, but also uh oh. They’d have to deal with that mouth later.
This conversation was going on much too long for Eddie’s comfort, so he decided to knock.
“Come in!” Eddie swung open the door.
“Hey, bud. Need anything before bed?”
“No, I got water.” Chris pointed to his bottle.
“Can I have a kiss?” Eddie whispered so Chris’s friends wouldn’t hear.
“As long as you showered after work, you can have a hug.” Chris stood up— he must’ve grown an inch or two in Texas, there is no way he left so tall— and fell into Eddie’s arms. Buck popped by to wish him good night and managed to sneak a kiss to his head in.
Eddie and Buck stood outside his bedroom door for a moment.
“Yeah, of course I kiss my dads good nigh— no, they’re not married.” Silence. They began to walk away. “Yeah, dad and his boyfriend. Just because they’re not married doesn’t mean he isn’t my dad, too.” Chris corrected whoever he was speaking to.
“Hey, dad,” Eddie teased Buck.
“Yeah, daddy?” Buck shot back.
“No, no. No calling me that.”
“What about Soldier?”
“That’s a no.”
“Captain?”
“How about my name?”
“Mr.Diaz.” Buck rested his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Do you think I’d be Buck Diaz or you’d be Eddie Buckley?”
“Technically you’d be Evan Diaz. ‘Eddie and Evan Buckley’ sounds nice, but we can’t both be Buck.”
“We should ask TikTok to settle this debate.”
“It’s not much of a debate, cariño, I will do what makes you happy. But, there is no way Chris would allow his name to be different from ours.” Eddie smiled.
“I think we should ask anyway.” Buck pulled out his phone. “It’s how we got together—“
“We got together because sharing a bed was the only way I could sleep,” Eddie groaned.
“Yeah, but… I wanna.” Well, Eddie couldn’t argue with that.
So maybe it would take time before Chris could fully trust Eddie and maybe it would be longer before Eddie trusted himself. Maybe it took the love of a good man, one he maybe didn’t deserve, to convince himself of it. But there Buck was, holding their hands, driving Chris to school, by Eddie’s side on every call, with the promise that one day they’d all be Diaz boys. And maybe, if they were all very lucky, in the not so distant future they’d all laugh about the summer when everything went so terribly wrong and then so brilliantly right. And Buck and Eddie would look back at the stupid videos Buck insisted on posting for the entire world to see with a nostalgic fondness for the early days when a single look had to last those pining fools weeks, laughing, and kissing, thankful they never had to be so lost again.