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At some point during the movie, Buck must have dozed off. It’s a new action movie with explosions and gunfire along with racial stereotypes that caused Eddie to tune out shortly after it started. Instead, he made himself comfortable on his side of the couch—the left side is his, the right side is Buck’s, and Christopher would be in the middle. Only Christopher is still in El Paso, so there’s an empty space on the couch that he and Buck have been trying to fill for the past two and a half months. That’s why Eddie sits with his feet on the couch, his back against the armrest, his feet under Buck’s left thigh.
Not only does this position make the space not seem so empty, but it lets him have physical contact in a subtle way. Not that he needs to be subtle, since Buck seems to understand and gives him hugs and touches his shoulder and squeezes his arm like it’s second nature now. It’s something he didn’t even know he needs, but he does, and Buck is able to give it to him without making it into a big deal. To be so vibrant and loud, Buck’s surprisingly good at being discreet and careful when he feels like it’s necessary, and this seems to be one more unspoken thing between them.
The thing is, with Chris gone, the daily hugs and casual touches that used to fill his non-working hours are gone. Eddie didn’t realize how much those touches mattered until he didn’t have them anymore. The first two weeks were the worst because Eddie isolated himself, refusing Buck’s multiple offers to come over and keep him company. It had been rough, the feelings of guilt and shame that plagued him after his son did the one thing he’d always wanted to prevent—go back to El Paso to live with his grandparents.
After the first two weeks, he had to get back to work, which forced him to refocus. Bobby was out with Gerrard taking his place, and it’s been hell dealing with the bigoted racist asshole. He’s even worse than the stories that Chim and Hen told them, and his presence caused a rift between Buck and Tommy that led to a break-up that Eddie still doesn’t know all of the details about. Nor does he care. Tommy never deserved Buck, and he’s glad he’s out of Buck’s life.
It isn’t jealousy guiding his negative feelings about Tommy, despite what Chim likes to mutter whenever Eddie makes a petty comment. Why be jealous when he already knows that Buck is his? Buck has been his since they met. It’s just a fact. As sure as the sky is blue and the grass is green, Buck belongs to Eddie Diaz. Buck doesn’t seem to realize that Eddie also belongs to him, but it isn’t something that Eddie’s ever brought to his attention because he might have Buck, but he didn’t deserve Buck, either.
That’s why he lets these people borrow him, thinking maybe one of them will give Buck what he deserves, but they never do. They end up leaving him, hurting him, and giving Buck to him with new damage that Eddie has to work hard to fix. Taylor probably came closest just because she stayed around so long, but Eddie hates her, has since they first met, and he knows she wasn’t ever worthy enough for Buck, which is maybe why he let her try in the first place. He knows that he’s petty enough to enjoy seeing her fail, even if Buck made some mistakes with that relationship, too. He might be in love with Buck, but he can admit when he fucks up, after all.
It’s kind of odd because Eddie thought maybe Tommy would be the one who stays. It had been a hope and a fear mixed into complicated emotions that he hadn’t been able to process. He had spiraled a little after realizing Buck had finally realized he’s into men, too, and Eddie sort of crashed and burned with his own life during the beginning of their relationship for reasons of repression and grief and shame. A few weeks after Christopher left, he started to claw his way back from the bottom of the pit that he found himself in, and that’s when he started noticing things he’d missed previously. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to see it for selfish reasons.
The way that Tommy dimmed Buck’s light. The way that Tommy had this caustic tone that could be considered dry wit but seemed to be more condescending than anything else. The way Tommy made comments about Buck that had sounded like high school boy locker room talk instead of the way someone in love should talk about their partner to other people. The way Buck didn’t seem very happy even when his words were claiming that everything was fine, and he cared about Tommy. He never said he loved him, never even called him his boyfriend after a few months of dating, and that had been enough for Eddie to know they didn’t fit.
Gerrard’s presence might have been the final death knell for the relationship, but it obviously hadn’t been working out even before that. Eddie just hadn’t seen it because Buck hid it from him or maybe he’d been so caught up in his own emotional turmoil that he missed the signs. Whatever the reason, he’s glad Tommy’s gone. His own friendship with the guy had basically ended when he started dating Buck, no more calls to go out for trivia nights or to work in the garage. Like Eddie had been replaced with Buck, who didn’t share any of those interests but offered kissing and sex instead.
Eddie knows it’s for the best because Buck tries so hard, wants to please his partner and fears being left behind so badly that he makes stupid choices. Asking Taylor to move in after kissing another woman, risking his life to save his ex-girlfriend’s fiancé, dating a death doula instead of processing his death and how it changed his life. Fortunately, he didn’t make a stupid choice with Tommy. Eddie’s relieved that it ended so easily before Buck got too invested. The whole thing has left a bad taste in his mouth, the way Tommy did so much when they first started hanging out only to pivot and turn to Buck after they kissed, but then failed to do much of anything for Buck except dinners at the apartment that led to sex.
He isn’t one to judge, especially since he knows Buck enjoys sex and probably learned a lot about being with a man and dating a man from Tommy, but Buck is the best person he knows. Buck deserves romance and trips to Vegas and flowers every date and sweet words that make his eyes shine and his cheeks turn pink. He deserves the whole stupid fairy tale if that’s what he wants, and no one seems to see who Buck really is, to see the unloved little boy who sought comfort by hurting himself until he realized he could use his body to obtain that intimacy he so desperately craved even if it was only temporary, to see that he’s kind and smart and slightly unhinged in how loud he loves, to see that he still hides the pieces of himself that he sees as broken underneath a mask that he only ever takes off when he’s with Eddie.
Eddie’s spent nearly seven years letting other people borrow Buck, giving them the chance to treat him right and to love him unconditionally, and he’s finally reached a point where he’s realized that no one else is ever going to love Buck the way that he does, will never be able to give the support that Eddie does, will never be able to accept all the broken pieces that have been glued back in but still have sharp edges sometimes the way that Eddie can. No one will ever know Buck, truly know him, and accept every single part of him the way that Eddie does, and Eddie finally understands that. That acceptance changed things, made him realize what he wants and gave him the motivation to finally take what’s been his for so long.
It’s been almost three months without Christopher, the house not really a home without him. Most of that time, Buck has been single, and, after a couple of weeks, he stopped giving Eddie space. He started forcing his way in even when Eddie tried to isolate himself. Buck’s taken him to new restaurants, taken him to hear local bands playing in small clubs and bars, taken them to the batting cages and axe throwing and go karts and mini golf and arcades, signed them up for a cooking class at the rec center where they’re surrounded by elderly women and recently divorced men who can’t even boil water, has take him to museums to look at art and history and told him stories from Wikipedia deep dives that Eddie can’t get enough of, and he’s encouraged Eddie to find new hobbies to occupy his time when they aren’t going out.
That’s how Eddie rediscovered his love for drawing.
When he was a kid, he used to love sketching. He’d doodle all over his homework and on his notes from class. Random Pokémon figures and mythical creatures they’d hear about when the teacher taught them about Greek mythology. His classmates and their faces drawn into the margin of his notebook. He also remembers signing up to take art when he went to middle school, and his dad had not been happy. There had been a fight, comments about art being for girls and sissies, and that no sone of Ramon Diaz was going to take that kind of class. Eddie had to change it to Athletics, the only other option available during that time, and he eventually joined the baseball team and the basketball team because sports was what is suitable for a boy.
It's no wonder he’s been so damn repressed. It’s only been unpacked the last few months, all the moments growing up when his dad reinforced the expectations for being a man and how anything artistic or creative or emotional was automatically labeled as feminine and wrong. Therapy has helped him unpack all of this, his new therapist, Claudia, doing an amazing job of letting him basically guide himself through the minefield of his past. It’s what’s helped him acknowledge that he’s in love with Buck, that he’s attracted to him, that he wants to marry him, wants to finally stop letting other people try to make him happy because of his own insecurities regarding what he deserves.
Eddie is a good man who has made mistakes. He deserves to be happy. He deserves to be in love. He isn’t going to fuck up everything he touches. He isn’t broken in a way that’s irreparable. He has his own sharp edges and jagged corners that Buck can instinctively navigate around without cutting himself. Somehow, their broken parts fit together and make them whole. He prefers not labeling his sexuality—he loved Shannon, and he loves Buck. That’s all that really matters. Demisexual is what feels most comfortable from what Claudia has discussed with him, but Eddie doesn’t need labels to know how he feels.
Drawing has become his way of channeling his emotions. He has a few sketchbooks and art supplies that he uses whenever he has free time. His fingers are often smudged with charcoal or lead from whatever he’s using to draw with at the moment. The way he now sits on the couch gives him privacy to open his sketchbook and work without Buck being able to see the focus of his art. He’s shared some things, the sketches he’s done at work of their team or a cat they saved from a tree or the crow that keeps following Chim around the last month or the stray dog that’s been hanging around the firehouse and basically been adopted as a comfort to combat Gerrard’s hatred. He doesn’t see what’s in Eddie’s sketchbook, though.
Not yet.
It hasn’t been ready to share. Eddie hasn’t been ready to share. But he is now. He’s finished the last page of the sketchbook while the cliché action movie has been playing on the television, the sound of gunshots and explosions the background soundtrack as Eddie’s finished the final sketch in his confession. Because that’s what this sketchbook is—it’s a visual representation of how he feels about Buck, how he’s always felt about Buck. It’s not flowery words or romantic poetry, either of which Eddie can probably do if he felt like that’s what Buck needs, but it isn’t. Buck needs to believe that he’s loved and that someone sees him—truly sees him—and still wants him, still loves him. That’s what Eddie’s tried to do with these sketches, to put his love into each stroke of his pencil and each shading of charcoal.
Eddie isn’t a believer in fate and the universe, never really has been. Not since he grew up and had to leave foolish fantasies behind, but he does feel like there’s some kind of kismet at play with how he came across the sketchbook while browsing at the store during a time when he needs distractions in the form of new hobbies. Rediscovering his love for something that he’d been made to feel was shameful and not appropriate for a man to indulge in is going to be the way he declares his feelings for Buck, the man he loves.
There isn’t really any nervous energy or fear about telling Buck he’s in love with him. Eddie knows in his gut that he could have had Buck all these years if he’d ever asked, if he’d ever made a move. It isn’t arrogance or overconfidence. It’s just the truth. They’ve been building to this all this time, and it’s just taken hitting rock bottom and losing his son for Eddie to finally accept that no one else is going to love the Buck appropriately other than him and that he does deserve to have that love without sacrificing his own happiness because of his own self-worth issues.
There’s a soft snore that brings a smile to Eddie’s face. He’s been watching Buck sleep while lost in thought, his toes snugly covered by Buck’s thigh, his sketchbook open to the final drawing that he’s recently finished. Buck’s mouth is open, a bit of drool collecting at the corner of his lips, his head against the back of the couch. Eddie watches his chest moving as he breathes, pretty sure that he can hear his heartbeat if he focuses hard enough. His stomach growls, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten anything since they shared a couple of pizzas after getting home from their shift.
Carefully, he moves his feet out from under Buck’s leg. He tries not to disturb him, but he sees the moment that Buck wakes up. Buck wipes his hand across his mouth and straightens up, blinking at him for a moment before slowly smiling. “How long have I been asleep?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie says honestly. “I was concentrating on my drawing, and I only realized you’d drifted off when I finished. The movie’s over, and I’ve been sitting here thinking for the last fifteen minutes or so. Guess it’s been longer than that, at least.”
“Thinking?” Buck arches a brow and looks at him curiously. “Really thinking or just staring at me sleeping like a creeper?”
“Really thinking,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. “The jokes about my mustache are old by now, bud. I’ve had it for two months, and I’m not shaving it just because the team thinks it’s weird. I mean, it started out as a petty fuck you to Gerrard, but I happen to like it now. I look like my abuelo did when he was my age.”
“Your abuelo must have been a GILF then,” Buck murmurs, yawning. “I wish you wouldn’t lump me in with the others about the mustache. You know that I like it. I told you that you look like a hot sexy fireman from, like, a seventies porn movie or something.”
“Do I want to know what a GILF is, or should I just move on?” Eddie asks, feeling warmth in his cheeks at Buck’s matter-of-fact comment about him being hot and sexy. “Comparing me to someone in a seventies porn movie isn’t really the compliment you seem to think it is, you know?”
Buck smiles slyly, which contrasts with his sleep bleary eyes. “Grandpa I’d Like to Fuck,” he says solemnly, snorting when Eddie kicks him. “Hey, you asked, man. I’m merely educating you about slang from, like, a decade ago. All beefy and hot with a pornstache makes me think about seventies porn, not that I’ve ever seen any. Would you rather me say that you look like an early eighties action star? Mustaches were big back then according to Chim.”
“It isn’t a pornstache, asshole,” Eddie says, digging his toes into Buck’s thigh until he laughs. He reaches up and strokes his mustache, liking the feel of the surprisingly soft hair beneath his fingertips. He also likes the way Buck watches him, his eyes practically on fire from how much he’s into the mustache. Eddie knows it gets him hot because he makes such an effort to be blasé about it. He joins in with the others in the teasing, but Buck always comes back to it being hot and sexy even when he tries to make it seem like he’s teasing. Eddie smiles slightly. “So, are you saying that I’m someone you’d like to fuck then? If I said I look like my abuelo, and you called him a GILF, it makes me think you’re getting fresh with me, Buck.”
“Eddie, you know that you’re a total DILF,” Buck says dryly, but his face turns even a darker shade of pink as he looks towards the television. “Sorry I fell asleep during the movie. Guess I was more tired than I thought. It was a good nap, though, because I feel much more awake now. Rejuvenated, which is good since it’s only eight.”
“It wasn’t a good movie anyway. Ravi needs to tell his brother to stop recommending movies because they’re all pretty crappy,” Eddie says, shifting so his legs are bent instead of stretched out. “I was about to go get a snack. Are you hungry? I can make something quick and easy if you are.”
“Sure, I could eat. I can help, if you want,” Buck offers, shifting so that his leg is bent and on the couch in front of him, mirroring Eddie’s position. “You, um, there’s charcoal on your cheek, Eddie.” He smiles slightly and reaches over, lightly dragging his thumb over Eddie’s cheek. “There, I got it. You were pretty focused on your drawing, which is why I think drifted off because I didn’t want to talk while you were concentrating. I know I talk too much, and it can bother people.”
Eddie reaches up and grabs his hand, watching Buck’s eyes widen at the gesture. “I was concentrating, but you never bother me. I love listening to you talk about anything.” He squeezes Buck’s hand before letting it go, dropping his gaze to his sketchbook. “I, uh, I’ve been working on something important, something special. It’s a gift, and I’m finally ready to give it away.”
When he looks back up, he meets Buck’s curious gaze. Buck’s hand is still by his face, and Eddie bites the inside of his cheek when Buck cautiously moves his hand closer to his lips. “Can I touch it?” Buck asks softly, dropping his gaze briefly before looking back up. “Sorry, it’s probably too weird, isn’t it? I don’t know why—”
“Yeah, you can,” Eddie whispers, touching Buck’s hand again. He leans forward, his eyelids fluttering shut when Buck gently touches his mustache, his fingers brushing through the hair above his top lip, his thumb dragging across Eddie’s lips as he moves his fingers. “It kind of tickles.”
“It’s softer than I’ve imagined,” Buck whispers, staring at Eddie’s lips in a way that makes his pulse race and his skin flush with warmth. Buck raises his gaze and smiles sheepishly as he drops his hand. “I like it, Eddie. I know the other tease, but it suits you. You’re beautiful with or without it, so I support you keeping it for as long as you want. Besides, it pisses Gerrard off that you look so much better than he does with a mustache.”
“Gerrard’s one of the main reasons I decided to grow a mustache,” Eddie admits, not having shared that motivation with anyone. He just said his life was in turmoil, so he decided to try something different, but, really, the pettiness and sort of highlighting his brownness is the main motivation behind it. Buck’s obvious attraction to it and the way it does remind him of spending days with abuelo riding around in the Chevelle is why he’s keeping it.
“I didn’t mean to get you sidetracked,” Buck says, running his fingers through his hair, a loose curl dropping over his forehead. “You said you were drawing something as a gift, didn’t you? You also said that you’re ready to give away.”
“You didn’t,” Eddie says, looking down at the sketchbook. He taps his fingers against it before he closes it and hands it across the couch to Buck. Buck looks surprised, taking it from Eddie and blinking at him. He holds his gaze and smiles slightly. “I made it for you, Buck. I’m ready to share it with you now. You can look at it while I make us something to eat.”
It isn’t fear that makes Eddie get up and go into the kitchen. Okay, maybe only a little fear because he’s sharing something incredibly personal by giving Buck the sketchbook filled with his drawings. He feels vulnerable and raw at the moment, putting his hands on the counter and taking several deep breaths, trying to relax. He wants to give Buck privacy because he knows what he’s going to see when he flips through the sketches. Eddie put all of the emotions that he can’t really find the words for into the drawings, and he knows that Buck’s going to understand because it’s Buck. Buck knows Eddie better than he knows himself most of the time.
For years, he’s known that Buck’s his, and all it would take is just to tell him he wants him to change everything between them. By giving him the sketchbook, Eddie’s told him the best way he knows how, and things will never be the same. He thinks he knows how they’ll change, but only Buck can determine that, so Eddie has to wait and hope that his confession is received with an open heart and reciprocation. He stands there for a moment, forcing himself to relax, listening to the silence coming from the living room until he has to move, has to do something to break up the quiet.
Eddie turns on the radio that he keeps on his counter, spinning the dial until he hears something smooth and easy. It’s a jazz station that he plays while cooking sometimes, just the sound of sultry saxophones and tinkling piano keys. He doesn’t want words tonight, doesn’t want to hear familiar songs that might make him hum along, so a station that plays instrumental music predominantly is the best choice. With the music going, he opens the fridge and stares at its contents before deciding to make them a couple of omelets.
The cooking class that they take every other week went over omelets in the second class, not that Eddie needed to be taught how to make one. Chris and Buck like to give him a hard time, but he’s been confident in the kitchen for a couple of years now. Linda’s patience and recipes mixed with Carla’s encouragement made him comfortable cooking, and he’s developed an enjoyment for it that he keeps to his kitchen, not wanting to share that part of himself with the team at work. He only shares it with Buck and Christopher, accepting their teasing as a way of them showing their love and support.
God, he’s going to be so glad when Chris comes home in a couple of weeks, grateful that his son has had the time he needs to process everything that happened with Kim, but relieved beyond belief that he’s forgiven Eddie. He still needs to have a very difficult conversation with his mom when Chris comes home, but his father has been on his side since they arrived back in El Paso, helping him get through to Chris and being supportive in a way that he never had during his childhood.
It doesn’t make up for the past, but it gives them a better foundation for the future, which is all his dad seems to want right now. His dad even complimented his artwork when they were on Facetime a few weeks ago, apologizing for what happened when Eddie was younger without even being prompted. The house will finally be a home again once Chris gets back, especially if Buck is here, too.
Eddie’s in the middle of chopping up onions when he hears the kitchen door open. He tenses for a moment, narrowly missing cutting his thumb, then he goes back to chopping. Buck will need to make the next move since Eddie made the first one. He hears footsteps and Buck’s breathing, but he hasn’t said anything yet. Eddie listens to him moving around, not pacing but also not standing still. The sketchbook is suddenly placed on the counter beside him, a familiar hand resting on top of it, long fingers curled around the edge.
“Eddie, will you stop chopping and please look at me?” Buck asks quietly, the words making Eddie put down the knife. He braces himself before he turns around, taking in Buck’s face. There are tear marks on his cheeks, his eyes still shiny and bright, his lips red and swollen like he’s been biting them, his cheeks a rosy shade of pink that almost matches his birthmark. He looks into Eddie’s eyes, holding his gaze steady. “I didn’t know. I had hoped, but I didn’t realize.”
“I figured I could try to tell you, but a lot of people have told you things that they didn’t mean,” Eddie says slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. He licks his lips and keeps his gaze on Buck’s. “I decided that maybe showing you would make you understand better than I could say it. Hard to find the right words, you know? I don’t think they’ve invented all of the words that I’d need to tell you how I feel.”
“Jesus, Eddie, you can’t do that,” Buck groans. “You give me sketchbook with all those drawings and then say that and you expect me to be able to think and form words and I kind of feel like I’m dreaming but I already pinched myself, so I know that I’m not.” He bites his lip. “I’m in love with you, too. I mean, that’s what you meant, isn’t it? That’s what the sketches told me, that you love me, and now you’re telling me they haven’t even invented words to describe your love for me, and I love you so fucking much.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant, Buck,” Eddie murmurs, slowly reaching out to touch his face. He cups his cheek, lightly dragging his thumb over the curse of his jaw. “I tried to put everything I feel for you into the drawings, to channel those emotions into the memories that I drew, and I’m glad they were able to speak to you. I love you, sweetheart. I’m in love with you, and I have been for a long time. I’m sorry it took me so long to accept that I do deserve you, that I can keep you, and I can be happy.”
“Eddie, you just gave me a sketchbook with dozens of drawings of me,” Buck says softly, leaning his face into Eddie’s palm. “Beautiful drawings of moments that I want to cherish and remember always and beautiful sketches of horrible moments that I know I’ll never be able to forget but you’ve turned them into something meaningful and special with your pencils and charcoal. It’s our life together, and you want to apologize for taking too long? Once I opened my eyes and realized what we have, what we’ve always had, I wasn’t planning to ever let you go anyway. I’d have waited an eternity for you.”
Eddie leans up on his tiptoes, swaying towards Buck. “Is this okay?” he asks, dropping his gaze to Buck’s lips. Buck makes a low whine before he moves forward and presses his mouth against Eddie’s. His lips are chapped and wet from where he’s recently licked them, and they fit perfectly against Eddie’s, like they were made to kiss him and only him. Eddie moves his hand from Buck’s face to his hair, gripping the soft curls tightly as he returns the kiss, pressing up against his broad chest, his other hand using Buck’s shoulder for balance.
When Buck pulls back, he giggles softly. “Your mustache tickles,” he says, rubbing his nose against Eddie’s nose before he moves in for another kiss. This kiss isn’t as tentative. It’s more forceful, more confident, and Eddie makes a noise low in his throat when he feels Buck’s hands on his ass, squeezing before picking him up. He ends up on the kitchen counter, the onions he’s been chopping shoved to the side, the knife falling to the floor with a clang. He doesn’t care, not when Buck’s kissing him this way.
The feel of Buck’s tongue on his lips makes Eddie open for him, tongues licking and sucking, exploring, his legs wrapping around Buck’s waist as the kiss deepens. He bites Buck’s bottom lip, sucking on it then nibbling more, listening to the noises that Buck doesn’t try to hold back. Buck pushes his shirt up, his hands moving up Eddie’s spine, gripping his shoulders as they keep kissing. Eddie stops counting, unable to think of anything except the taste of Buck, wanting more—no, needing more. His hands aren’t idle, either. Pulling on Buck’s hair in a way that makes him moan and his hips buck forward, squeezing his bicep hard enough to leave bruises.
Eventually, they pull apart, breathing hard, lips numb and swollen, eyes dazed, faces flushed. He can see pink skin above Buck’s top lip, realizes that it’s from his mustache and feels a wave of possessiveness at having marked him like that. Eddie leans in and licks Buck’s neck, biting him just hard enough for Buck to feel it, sucking on his warm sweaty skin until he leaves a bruise behind, a mark of ownership that everyone can see. He hears Buck huff a laugh, tilting his head to the side to give Eddie better access, and then his mouth is on Eddie’s neck, biting and licking and sucking until a matching mark is left behind, soaked with saliva and stinging from bruised skin. They look at each other then they kiss again, unable to get enough of each other now that they’ve had that first taste.
The next time they pull apart, Buck rests his forehead against Eddie’s, and they both just sit there like that as they try to catch their breath. Buck pulls his hands out from underneath Eddie’s shirt, one resting on his hip and the other gripping the back of his neck, his thumb rubbing back and forth in a tender way that makes Eddie feel loved. Buck clears his throat before he says, “Forget about making us a snack. I want to take you out somewhere. We can find a place that’s open late, eat something, maybe catch a late movie.”
“Eating out and a movie, huh?” Eddie asks, smiling as he rubs his nose against Buck’s. “That sounds suspiciously like a date, Buck. We worked a twelve-hour today with Captain Racist Misogynistic Homophobe, which made it seem like forty-eight hours, and you just took a nap because you’re so tired. We don’t have to go out on a data right now just because we finally admitted that we’re in love.”
“I’m not tired anymore,” Buck says, lightly scratching Eddie’s hairline. He rubs his lips over Eddie’s mustache, which makes Eddie huff a laugh, and causes Buck to grin as he pulls his head back. “Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me, Edmundo Diaz? I can promise you a good meal somewhere, and then maybe we can spend a couple of hours not watching a movie because we’re too busy making out in the back row like we’re horny teenagers on our first date.”
“More like horny thirty-two-year-olds on our first date,” Eddie teases, unwrapping his legs from around Buck’s waist. “How can I possibly refuse such a tempting offer? Yes, I’ll go on a date with you, Evan Buckley. If our late-night dinner goes well, maybe we can just come back here to make-out instead of wasting the money on movie tickets for a film we wouldn’t even watch.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, we can definitely do that instead,” Buck stammers, blinking at him. He smiles sheepishly. “I know you’ve never been with a man before, so I didn’t want to, um, jump straight to making out in your bed on the first date. Kissing is one thing, but making out with another dude is something else, and I didn’t want to, uh, pressure you, especially when we haven’t talked about your sexuality. I know you love me, I saw the proof in those drawings, and I know you want me, the kissing and biting makes that pretty obvious, so that’s all that matters.”
“I appreciate your consideration,” Eddie says, smiling slightly, “but I don’t feel like you’re trying to pressure me. If I did, I’d just tell you, and I know you’d stop. Unlabeled, for the record, but something under the whole umbrella of alphabet. Kind of think I might be demisexual? Doesn’t really matter. I want you, and I’d rather make out in the privacy of our own home than in the back row of a movie. You are the first guy that I’ve ever kissed or wanted to fuck, though.”
“I’d suggest just ordering Uber Eats, but I know I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from kissing you, and I want to go out, maybe talk a little bit about everything, make sure we’re communicating since Hen always preaches how important that is for a successful marriage,” Buck says, moving his hand to Eddie’s jaw, brushing his thumb over his mustache. “Because I want to marry you one day, Eddie. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And that journey together started with your confession and the first kiss, but it continues with a first date, so I want to take that next step tonight.”
“We’re off work tomorrow and Wednesday,” Eddie says, arching a brow when Buck blinks at him. “What? We could drive to Vegas and back before our next shift. That’s a yes, if you didn’t catch it. I could always draw you a picture, though. Our hands with rings on them maybe.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Buck asks, staring at him. “I—Isn’t that too fast? We, uh, haven’t even gone on a first date yet. Maddie would probably kill me, and there’s Christopher to think about. And, uh, when it does happen, I definitely want a sketch from you. Maybe you can get another book, and you can fill it up as we spend the rest of our lives together.”
“I’m dead serious, Buck,” Eddie says honestly. He shrugs. “You’ve been mine since shortly after we met, and I’ve been yours just as long. Why put off the inevitable if we’re both ready and want to make it official? I’m fine with waiting, too, if you want to do the whole formal ceremony thing. You deserve the wedding of your dreams, but someone else is planning our bachelor party because I can’t afford to pay for more hotel damage.”
Buck leans in and kisses him, a deep, thorough kiss that takes his breath away. When he pulls back, he grins. “Fuck it. Let’s do it. We can leave now and get In and Out on the way to Vegas. We can just keep it to ourselves, not tell anyone that we’re legally married, and then we can do the whole ceremony thing later for our families and friends. I want to put a ring on it before someone else tries to swoop in and steal you from me. You don’t seem to realize what a smoke show you always are but especially now that you’ve got that mustache and those biceps.”
“We can Facetime Christopher in the morning, let him attend via the phone,” Eddie decides, knowing that he can’t actually get married without his son knowing ahead of time. Chris will be fine with it, he loves Buck, and he wants Eddie to be happy, he told him so a few weeks ago when they started talking more often. “You can do the same for Maddie, if you think she’ll be mad if you don’t.”
“I’ve got to stop by my place on our way out of town. All I’ve got in my go bag is some jeans and sweats, so I’ve got grab a suit for our wedding,” Buck says, looking flushed and excited. “We can find one of the chapels that has, like, fake Elvis to marry us. Just do the whole cheesy Vegas elopement thing. Are we crazy for doing this?”
“Probably so, but you know our motto. Who cares?” Eddie says, leaning over for another kiss. “I’ll get a suit out of the closet, and I’ll pack my overnight bag. If you want Elvis, we can find Elvis. I don’t really care who does the whole ‘repeat after me’ thing. I just want you to know that I’m yours in every way possible, and that I’m never leaving you.”
“I don’t need a piece of paper to know that, Eddie,” Buck says, kissing his forehead before taking Eddie’s hands in his. “I saw it in every one of the sketches you created with these talented hands. We need to pack your drawing supplies, too, because I wasn’t kidding about wanting a sketch of our hands with our rings. Maybe one of Elvis, too.”
“I have a ring,” Eddie says, squeezing Buck’s hands. “It was my abuelo’s wedding ring. Abuela wanted me to have it when she moved back to El Paso. I think maybe she knew that you were meant to be mine all along, too. It might need resized, but I want to give it to you.”
“Fuck, Eddie. That’s just…” Buck blinks away tears and laughs. “You’re such a romantic sap, and I love you so much. I have to buy you a ring, obviously I wasn’t thinking about marriage or even being able to date you because you’ve never said anything, even if I’ve felt like you maybe felt something, too. They’ll have rings in Vegas, though, so we can get one you really like.”
“I’ll wear a Ring Pop if you’re the one who gives it to me, sweetheart,” Eddie says, releasing Buck’s hands and holding onto his shoulders as he slides off the kitchen counter. He cleans up the prep that he’d done for the omelets, long forgotten now with plans to elope on their first date. “I’ve got a new sketchbook that I haven’t started using yet. It’s over a hundred pages, so it’s a good one to use as we start this next chapter of our lives together. Now, come help me pack, so we can get on the road. We’re getting married tomorrow.”
“Yeah, we are,” Buck says, grinning as he leans in for another kiss. “Way better way to end our first date than making out in a movie, by the way. I’m going to hit up my travel app and reserve us a room on the Strip for tonight. That way, we don’t have to worry about finding one when we get into town.”
Eddie laughs. “Our first date ending in marriage should be crazy, but it just feels right. Maybe because we’ve spent the last seven years building a relationship based on love and trust and now, we’re finally jumping off the cliff by adding the whole romance and sex parts of a partnership to what’s always been there.”
“You’d better be careful, or you might mess up and admit that the universe has been screaming at us all this time, and you were just too stubborn, and I was too oblivious to listen to it,” Buck warns, following him to the bedroom. He sits on the bed and starts tapping on his phone, looking for a room for them. “Kissing you felt like coming home, as corny as that sounds, and I feel like this is where my life has been leading me all this time.”
“Kismet,” Eddie says, catching Buck’s gaze and holding it. “Like we’re meant to be. It took Christopher leaving and me hitting rock bottom to finally accept the fact that no one else is ever going to love you as much as I do, and that I deserve to be happy. Neither of us are perfect, but our broken pieces make us fit together somehow, which is what I was trying to show with my drawings.”
“I’m so glad you picked up that sketchpad and started drawing again,” Buck says, smiling gently. “If soulmates exist, you’re the other half of my soul, which is why we fit together so well. The thing about hitting bottom is that you learn a hell of a lot about yourself as you fight to make it out and figure out how to avoid falling that deep again.”
“Me too,” Eddie admits. “I’d forgotten how much I loved drawing as a kid, how I used it to channel emotions that confused me back when I was growing up and no one ever talked about feelings, only expectations and how not to feel. My sessions with Claudia helped me cope with my guilt and shame over things I’ve repressed for so many years, and you’ve been here beside me through all of it, refusing to give up on me no matter how much I pushed. I was a shitty husband to Shannon, ran away instead of being there for her, so my track record isn’t great, but I promise you that I’m going to do everything I can to be the best husband for you, Buck.”
“I don’t need you to be the best, Eddie,” Buck says, putting his phone down and standing up. He kisses him gently, a sweet kiss. “I just need you to be yourself. Like you said, I’ve belonged to you since we got a grenade out of that guy’s leg. But you’ve also been mine for just as long. I’m not looking for perfect or the best. Neither of us are going to live the rest of our lives without fucking up and making mistakes, so we need to go into this knowing that and understanding that we’ll work through those things as partners. I’m looking at spending the rest of our lives together raising our kid, maybe getting another one at some point, and enjoying every single day that we get to spend with each other.”
“I love you,” Eddie whispers, pressing a tender kiss against the corner of his lips. “Now help me figure out which suit to pack. We’ll want wedding photos, after all, and I want to look good for those.”
“You’d look good in anything or nothing, baby,” Buck says, pulling him in for a hug, just holding him for several moments as they hug tightly. “But I’ll help you find a suit that makes you look so hot that the film will melt.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Eddie mutters, his tone totally fond as Buck grins at him. “Nothing that makes me look like a seventy’s porn star, okay? I want our wedding photos to be classy.”
“Porn can be classy,” Buck teases, waggling his eyebrows. Eddie punches his abdomen lightly, making him laugh. “Fine, no porn suits. Got it. You know that I actually find your mustache really hot, don’t you?”
“I’ve had a sneaking suspicion,” Eddie says, bumping against his side as they open his closet. “It’s one reason that I’ve kept it instead of shaving it off. Mostly it’s to piss off Gerrard because I look so much better than his pale ass ever could with facial hair, but it’s also a connection with my grandfather. What about this one?”
“I like it,” Buck says, looking at it curiously. “I haven’t seen it before, but I think it should fit even with your more muscular physique. All the working out has done really good things to your shoulders and arms, which is great for me, but not so great for some of your shirts.”
Eddie snorts. “Your shirts would know about that considering you’re always buying them a size or two too small. I can always just borrow one of yours for our wedding. It can be the ‘something borrowed’ to go with the ‘something blue’ that’s this suit coat.”
“I like it when you wear my clothes, so, uh, yeah. I’m down for that,” Buck says, leering playfully. “Now quit distracting me with your gorgeous hotness. I need to reserve a room.”
“I’ll finish packing and take my distraction of a face into the other room, so I can get my sketching materials,” Eddie says, winking at Buck when he laughs. He goes into the living room and gets his pencils and charcoal, finding the new sketchbook that he hasn’t used yet, then he goes into the kitchen. He gets the sketchbook that he made for Buck off the counter and carries it back to the bedroom, putting it on his dresser while Buck reserves their room.
Getting one of his pencils out, he opens the book and writes on the inside cover. ‘Buck and Eddie - 2018 to 2024. Chapter 1: The Beginning of It All’. Beneath it, he draws a quick sketch of a grenade being held by two different hands, not aiming for accuracy so much as symbolism. When he finishes, he closes the book and turns to find Buck watching him with a soft smile on his full lips.
Buck holds up his phone. “I reserved us a king suite for two nights since we don’t have to be at work until Thursday morning for our next twenty-four shift. I figured we could spend tomorrow checking out Vegas after we get married, make it sort of an overnight honeymoon. I got us a room overlooking the Strip, and there are several good sounding restaurants in the casino. Because you keep saying that I deserve to have everything that I want, but you deserve nice things, too, Eddie. You’re mine, and I plan to spoil you, love you, and take care of you for the rest of my life.”
“I like that, Buck,” Eddie says, walking over and kissing him. It gets a little heated, hands starting to roam as Buck pulls him closer. When they start to move towards the bed, Eddie reluctantly pulls back. “If we do this, we might not want to leave, and we’ve got a five-hour drive to Vegas.”
“You’re right,” Buck groans. “Once I get you into bed, we won’t be going anywhere for a while. Let’s go. We can stop by my place then pick up food and hit the road. We should be in Vegas by three, and we can find a chapel that has Elvis in the morning. Then we can get married, and this time tomorrow we’ll be husbands, as well as partners.”
“Husbands.” Eddie smiles, tucking his abuelo’s wedding ring into his overnight bag before he reaches for Buck, tugging him closer. He leans up for a kiss, whispering against his lips, “I like the sound of that.”