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The porch light is already turned on despite the fact that the sun hasn’t fully set yet. There are a couple of flies buzzing around the light, dancing closer and closer to the bulb before flying off. When Buck reaches for the knob, he confirms that the front door is unlocked. Stepping into Eddie’s house, he feels his shoulders instinctively relax, the stress and annoyances from his long day fading away with each step he takes. It’s the feeling of coming home after a long day, the warmth and comfort that this house always represents to him no matter what else is happening in his world.
The living room is quiet. The television is off, and there isn’t any of the usual gaming noises coming from Christopher’s room. There haven’t been any of those in weeks, not since Chris went to El Paso with his grandparents, but Buck still unconsciously expects to hear the familiar noises that Chris makes. He feels the slight twinge in his chest at the silent reminder that Chris is still gone, going on three months now, and he can’t imagine what Eddie must feel having to deal with the silence constantly.
That’s one reason that Buck’s invited Eddie to crash at his place so much this summer. Eddie’s the type to suffer in silence, taking what he deems as punishment without question, accepting full responsibility for everything that drove Chris away even though it isn’t solely on him. Fortunately, he’s got Buck around to distract him from the guilt and self-flagellation that only a former Catholic could do so well. When Eddie isn’t at the loft, Buck tries to be here, filling the silence created by Christopher’s absence with his rambling and television marathons.
Tonight feels kind of odd, though. Buck just worked a twelve-hour shift, covering for Atkins who wanted to attend a family reunion in Raleigh, and he hasn’t seen Eddie since their shift ended this morning. Instead, he got a text from him around three o’clock asking him to come over after his shift to have dinner. A text about grabbing food together is pretty normal, but this particular text had seemed off. It didn’t really sound like Eddie; more awkward and formal than any of the texts they’ve exchanged in recent years. It makes Buck feel a little anxious, and he can’t deny that he spent the last few hours of his shift trying to think of the worst-case scenarios for what would make Eddie pointedly invite him over like this.
The biggest fear is that Chris loves El Paso, so Eddie is going to tell Buck that he’s leaving Los Angeles. It’s the one that has sort of taken over his brain tonight, and the relief he felt when walking inside and not seeing moving boxes scattered around has provided some comfort to his overactive imagination. Of course, his second biggest fear is that Eddie has found out he’s dying of something that can’t be fixed, and that one is still in the back of his mind as he shuts the front door and locks it behind him.
“Hey, honey, I’m home,” he calls out in an exaggerated voice, dropping his overnight bag on the floor by the couch before leaning down to unfasten his shoelaces. “Sorry I’m late. There was an accident at the intersection of Robertson and Pico that had traffic backed up for miles.”
“What were you doing on Pico and Robertson anyway?” Eddie asks, his voice drifting to the living room from the kitchen. Buck can smell spices in the air, his stomach grumbling as he takes a deep sniff. Eddie learning how to cook is the only positive thing that came out of him quitting the 118 a couple of years ago, even if Buck and Chris still like to tease him about being a bad cook just to make him grumble.
“I took a shortcut that didn’t work out,” Buck says, walking through the dining room towards the kitchen. His eyebrows go up when he sees that the table is already set, which is unusual because they often end up eating at the kitchen table or on the couch when it’s just the two of them. Even weirder is that there’s a vase with fresh flowers in the middle of the table, and Eddie’s using the fancy plates that Isabel gave him when she moved to El Paso. The plates are sitting on two placemats that Buck doesn’t remember ever seeing before.
“You and your shortcuts, man,” Eddie teases, his tone amused and happy in a way that makes Buck feel a warmth of affection hit his gut like he’s been stabbed with an arrow. Now that Buck’s closer, he can hear music coming from the kitchen. Something Spanish that he doesn’t recognize but has a nice tune. “They never save you any time, Buck. I don’t know why you still insist on taking them.”
“One of these days, it’ll work out and save me time,” Buck says, falling into the familiar bickering with ease. He leans over and sniffs the flowers, touching them lightly with his pointer finger. They’re definitely fresh, bought from a store today probably, and he bites his bottom lip in thought as he slowly continues walking towards the kitchen. “What are you cooking, Eddie? It smells good.”
“Just something I learned from my abuela,” Eddie says. “When I woke up this afternoon, I had a craving, so it seemed like as good a time as any to try my hand at the family recipe. How was your extra shift? Did you manage to get any sleep at all?”
“A family recipe, huh?” Buck looks away from the table towards the open kitchen door then back again. Things are somehow even odder than they had been when he first arrived. With a slight shake of his head, he walks into the kitchen and leans against the doorframe.
The music is louder, a lively tune that has Eddie moving around like he’s dancing while cooking. It takes a second for Buck to look around at the ingredients and food that’s covering the counter before he settles his gaze back on Eddie. Back on an Eddie who is shaking his hips while wearing a pair of black jeans that are possibly a size too small based on how form fitting they are, the denim clinging to his ass in a way that’s somewhat mesmerizing. Or maybe Buck’s just down bad for Eddie’s ass.
It’s probably both, like that silly meme of the cartoon dudes.
After staring at Eddie’s ass for a lot longer than is appropriate for a best friend to do, Buck raises his gaze, taking in the snug Henley in a dark green fabric that is clinging to Eddie’s shoulders and biceps. With Chris gone, Eddie’s been working out in the gym a lot more, redefining his abs and bulking up his arms in a way that somehow makes him even hotter, like that’s fair to mere mortal men who can’t compare at all. When Buck notices Eddie start to turn around, he snaps his gaze up higher and forces down the lust that he’s somehow managed to control for the six weeks and three days since he’s realized he’s in love with Eddie Diaz.
“Do you need any help?” Buck asks, meeting Eddie’s gaze and flashing what he hopes is a friendly smile and not a ‘I was just eating you up with my eyes, no homo because you’re straight’ stare. It hasn’t even been six months since Tommy kissed him and he realized he was bisexual, but Buck’s already hitting so many of the cliches that it’s ridiculous. First queer relationship is short and lackluster? Check. Looking back and realizing he’s always been into men but didn’t know it? Check. Attracted to a straight guy? Check. Realizing he’s in love with his best friend? Check.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, giving him a curious look. His cheeks are flushed pink from the heat in the kitchen, and his lips are chapped because he refuses to use the lip balm that Buck keeps giving him. His mustache is full and practically shiny, or maybe Buck sees it that way because he finds the damn thing so hot that it’s a secret he can’t even share with Maddie or Hen, who, unfortunately, know way too much about his inner desires when it comes to Eddie.
It's the wine’s fault. It forced him to ramble on about Eddie’s eyes for half an hour when he crashed Maddie and Hen’s wine night together. He doesn’t remember the alleged hour that he spent talking about Eddie’s hands and ass, but Hen claims to have video for future blackmailing for babysitting needs.
“Yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired,” Buck says smoothly. He shrugs his left shoulder. “We had a pretty busy 12-hours. Three pile ups on the freeway, a restaurant fire, a heart attack, and two false alarms at the same high rise. I’m good, though. I managed to catch a couple of hours sleep when we went offline at midday.”
“I probably should have waited for this until you weren’t coming off a thirty-six, but I’ve been putting it off for weeks, so I decided to just rip the band-aid off,” Eddie says, making Buck feel like maybe he is too tired for conversation because none of that makes any sense.
“Waited for what?” Buck asks, frowning slightly when Eddie blinks at him. “You got a craving for whatever it is you’re making earlier, didn’t you? And we were planning to get together tonight anyway. I mean, I figured I’d catch a nap then show up with beer and take-out like normal.”
“Nothing,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” Buck gives him A Look that he’s been practicing since noticing how Athena gets results with her Look, and it seems to work because Eddie groans. “It’s nothing, Buck. You know that I started taking the cooking classes at the Rec Center, and I’ve been planning to have you over for dinner so I can show off my new skills. That’s all I meant.”
“You’ve had skills longer than just this summer,” Buck reminds him. “I might tease you about being a bad cook, but we both know that you’re really good in the kitchen these days. You’re not as good as I am, of course, but you’re still pretty okay.” He laughs when Eddie flips him off. “Seriously, though, I’m happy for you to cook for me whenever you want. But, uh, is that the reason for the text? Because you wanted to show off the cooking class lessons?”
“For what text?” Eddie asks, looking confused for a moment. “The one I sent asking you to come over work? We didn’t make any specific plans, so I figured I’d tell you that I’m cooking dinner because you’d have brought something over otherwise. And you confirmed that just now.”
“Eddie, it’s all formal and odd,” Buck whines, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’ve been freaking out thinking that you had something serious to talk to me about because you actually asked me to come over for dinner tonight. You’re not moving back to El Paso, are you?”
“God, no,” Eddie says quickly, giving him a slightly amused look. His top lip must be twitching because his mustache is moving. “I didn’t realize a text would freak you out, Buck. You’re always sending me texts, after all.”
“It didn’t—okay, yeah, it did freak me out a little,” he admits. “My texts are usually, like, ‘dinner?’ and not all ‘Hey Buck, I’d like to invite you over for dinner after your shift ends. I’ll be cooking, and I think we need to talk’.” He puts his phone down from where he’s just read Eddie’s text, and he sees Eddie ducks his head, the tips of his ears reddening while Buck stares.
“Oh, uh, I forgot I added the talk part,” Eddie murmurs, clearing his throat before he looks up again. “You can, uh, take the guacamole and queso to the table now. It’s finished, and the main course is almost done. I even went to Marciella’s to get the tortilla chips that you really like.”
“You’re not dying, are you?” Buck asks, studying Eddie’s face closely. He sees Eddie frown and blink at him, and he lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. That was my second biggest fear after you deciding to move back to Texas. I can always give you a kidney if you need one, but the odds of you having a kidney related illness are slim compared to the many other things that might kill you that don’t just let me offer a body part to fix you.”
“Buck, I’m not moving, and I’m not dying,” Eddie says slowly, his lips pursed together like he’s fighting a smile. “I just wanted to have dinner with you tonight. That’s all. I should have realized that you might worry based on what I texted, but I sent that before I went to Marciella’s market, and I had other things on my mind at the time.”
“Oh. Okay.” Buck smiles sheepishly before pushing himself off the doorframe. He walks over to where Eddie’s standing, reaching for the bowl of guacamole. His nostrils flare when he leans into Eddie, a very familiar scent making him blink dumbly at the bowl he picks up. That’s Eddie’s date cologne. It’s expensive, one of the few indulgences that Eddie allows himself, and he only wears it when he’s trying to impress a woman. Stepping back, he stares at Eddie as he grips the bowl of guac with both of his hands.
“What’s that look for?” Eddie asks, arching a brow. “Does the guac look bad or something? It’s all fresh ingredients, and I even added habanero instead of jalapeno because I know you can handle the heat. For a white boy, you’ve got decent spice tolerance.”
“It looks good, Eddie,” Buck says, deciding he’s just imagining things. Eddie isn’t wearing his date night cologne. He’s just obviously more tired than he thought, and he’s imagining things. “And you can credit my time in Peru for helping my bland white boy tastebuds become accustomed to spice. It certainly wasn’t anything that my mother ever cooked since she thought adding salt and black pepper was daring.”
“Having met your mother, I can actually see that,” Eddie says, snorting as he turns to check the oven timer. “Two more minutes. Let me get you a beer while you take that stuff to the table. I thought about getting wine for dinner, but you mentioned a couple of months ago that you were swearing it off, so I just got a six pack instead.”
When Buck hears that, he almost trips, stumbling a little before he reaches the dining table. Wine for dinner? What the fuck? They don’t drink wine with dinner. They’ll usually have water or iced tea, occasionally a beer if it’s just them, but they’ve never had wine. Staring at the flowers, he bites his bottom lip and rubs his temple. Date night cologne, flowers on the table, wine with dinner, an official text invite like they haven’t been best friends for nearly seven years and can communicate without even talking. It’s adding up to something that has Buck’s heart racing even as he tells himself that it’s just random coincidence.
“You can go ahead and sit down, Buck,” Eddie says, catching Buck by surprise. He startles and looks at Eddie, who is watching him curiously. “Are you sure that you’re doing okay? You were lost in a daze just then.” He puts two bottles of beer on the table before he drags his fingers through his hair, the action making a lock fall across his forehead. Buck’s fingers itch to touch, so he curls them into his palms while Eddie picks up the two plates.
“I, uh, yeah. I’m just thinking, is all,” Buck says, ducking his head as he tries to get himself together. The sound of the oven timer going off saves him from awkwardly trying to change the subject, and he sits down as soon as Eddie heads back to the kitchen. He gets a chip and dips it into the guac, taking a bite and moaning at the burst of flavor hitting his tongue. “Jesus, Eddie. This is fucking delicious.”
There’s a noise in the kitchen, like something fell, and he starts to get up to see if Eddie needs help. Before he can, Eddie says, “Damn it. I dropped the pan. Not the one with our meal, thank God. I’m glad you, uh, like the guac, though.”
“It’s so good,” Buck says, grabbing another chip. “If you weren’t straight, I’d totally marry you for this guac, just so I could have it every week. It’s that good, Eddie.”
“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie mutters, groaning before the music switches from cheerful Spanish tunes to something that sounds like it’s been in a commercial. Eddie walks out of the kitchen carrying their plates. He sits one in front of Buck before putting the other at his place. “It looks like what my abuela makes, so I, uh, hope it tastes as good.”
“It looks great,” Buck says, trying to figure out what it is without any luck. “What is it exactly? I see a pepper, but I can’t really place the red stuff. Is it seeds? It looks kind of like seeds.”
“It’s chiles en nogada,” Eddie says, taking his seat. Buck snaps his head up to stare at him when he hears the name. “I’ve never made it before, but my abuela makes it for special occasions, and I thought it would be a fun challenge when I decided to show off my cooking skills.”
“This is what Isabel cooked for her first date with your grandfather,” Buck says, watching Eddie blink as a pink blush spreads over his cheeks all the way to the tip of his ears. “She told me about it when you were in the hospital after being shot. She said she made him the chiles en nogada that her mother used to make for her dad, and Hector fell in love with her as soon as he tasted her picadillo. Isabel told me that the surest way to find true love was through a great meal, the whole ‘get a man’s heart through his stomach’ thing, only she said I could adapt it to women because it works no matter what gender.”
“I, uh, wow,” Eddie murmurs, still blushing fiercely. “I didn’t know that you and Abuela shared stories about my abuelo.” He clears his throat then reaches for his beer, taking a drink of it. Buck can feel his leg bouncing up and down under the table, which is intriguing because Eddie doesn’t usually show his nerves in such an obvious way. Buck bumps his leg against Eddie’s, arching a brow as Eddie stares at him.
“Isabel is very sweet, and she loves you,” Buck says, glancing down at the plate of food before looking up to catch Eddie’s gaze. “You, uh, you made me the same meal that your grandmother made for your grandfather, Eddie. There are flowers on the table, and you’ve used the fancy plates, and you’re wearing your date night cologne, and your jeans are new and too tight, and your shir looks new, too, and you need to tell me if I’m getting this wrong because it’s really adding up to, uh, to seem deliberate.”
“I want this to be a date,” Eddie blurts out, holding Buck’s gaze. “I’m not, uh, straight, so you can definitely marry me for my guac, if you want. I’ll say yes. I’d say yes to just about anything you ask me, Buck. I’m in love with you, and I have been for years even if I didn’t realize it until recently. I thought I’d make the family ‘fall in love’ meal and see if you might be interested in dating me, only I chickened out when I texted, and then I decided I’d see how tonight went, and I’d bring it up if you seem into me like that.”
“I am,” Buck interrupts, licking his lips as he slowly smiles. “I’m totally into you that way, Eddie. I love you, too. I’m in love with you, and I would marry you even if you didn’t make orgasmically good guacamole. But, uh, maybe we should date first? I don’t know. I figure jumping into marriage before we even have a date is maybe moving too fast, especially with our dating histories, but, uh, yeah. I’m down for this being a date. Our first date.”
“You haven’t even tried the chiles en nogada yet,” Eddie points out, his lips curled into a large smile that makes his cheeks look round and squishable. “I was going to just make enchiladas one night to show off my skills, you know? But I spoke with Abuela the other day, and I think she knew my heart without me even telling her because she told me that same old story about abuelo falling in love with her at first bite, and I decided to stop wasting time and finally take a chance.”
“I’ve loved you for years, Eddie,” Buck admits. “I only realized it after things with Tommy fizzled out, but I thought you were straight, so I was resigned to, like, pine for the rest of my life like that lady in the movie Maddie made me watch last year that was so damn depressing because it didn’t end happily, and I knew you’d eventually meet a woman and marry her and I’d lose you, but I couldn’t make myself not love you.”
“I’m not sure what I am,” Eddie says, pressing his foot against Buck’s foot. “Unlabeled is a thing, I’ve learned, and Karen told me about something called demisexual that feels kind of accurate, but I don’t really care to call myself anything other than Eddie. I’m not straight, though, and I’m attracted to you, Buck. I want you to be my partner in every way there is, if that’s something you’d be interested in.”
“I thought I was pretty obvious about what I want,” Buck admits, huffing a laugh when Eddie grins at him, “but I guess I’ll be even more clear. Yes, I want you, Eddie. I want to date you and be your partner and marry you and love you for the rest of my life.”
“I don’t want our food to get cold, but I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Eddie says, giving him a look that makes Buck’s skin feel hot and tingly. “You’ve been mine since we first met, haven’t you, sweetheart? It just took us all this time to realize it.”
“It’s always been you, baby,” Buck says, pushing his chair back and walking around the table. “I’m yours, think I have been all along.” He gently moves Eddie’s chair back from the table and straddles him, leaning down when Eddie’s hands grip his hips. “And I really want to kiss you, too. We can always reheat the food, can’t we?”
“Yeah,” Eddie whispers against his lips before he surges up and kisses Buck, his mouth pressed firmly against Buck’s. The mustache tickles, making Buck giggle into the kiss as it rubs against his upper lip. Kissing Eddie might become his new favorite pastime. Even the chaste kisses they’re exchanging have heat spreading throughout his body, his pulse racing, an overwhelming feeling of love and affection that’s like a warm hug.
The chasteness doesn’t last that long. Soon, Buck’s licking Eddie’s plump bottom lip, nipping at it until his lips part, then he’s sweeping his tongue into his mouth, licking and sucking as he moves his fingers into Eddie’s soft hair. Eddie returns the kiss just as eagerly, just as much passion guiding every stroke of his tongue as Buck loses count of how many kisses they’ve shared. When they finally pull apart, Buck’s breathing heavily, his face flushed, his lips swollen, and he’s the happiest he’s ever been as he stares down at Eddie’s pretty face.
His stomach growls suddenly, a loud noise that makes Eddie laugh even as Buck pokes his side. “It’s not funny,” he mutters, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together. “I love kissing you, Eddie. You take my fucking breath away.”
“It’s kind of funny,” Eddie teases, running his fingers along Buck’s side and catching his ticklish spot. They share a laugh then another kiss before Eddie pulls his head back. “Stop distracting me with your wicked lips, Buck. Let me feed you, so you can fall even more in love with me.”
“If it’s as good as that guacamole, we might be taking a trip to Vegas on our next forty-eight off,” Buck warns, grinning at Eddie as he blushes and smiles so widely there’s a flash of dimple. “But I don’t think there’s any way that I could love you even more than I already do, Eddie. You’re the other half of my soul.”
“We aren’t eloping, especially not without Christopher,” Eddie says, trying to look serious but failing because he can’t stop smiling. Buck figures he must look just as goofy because he’s ridiculously happy. At the mention of Chris, he frowns, but Eddie touches his jaw and gives him a look. “None of that. Chris knows how I feel about you, and he gave me his blessing to tell you. He’s worried that I might get hurt, though, so you should probably expect him to talk to you about that when he comes home. I wouldn’t have said anything without speaking with him first, not when I’ve promised to communicate better and treat him as a teenager instead of a child.”
“I’ll talk to him anytime he needs to talk,” Buck says honestly. “I’ll be glad when he finally comes home. It’s just another three weeks, thankfully, and then he’ll be back with us where he belongs. But, yeah, no eloping. I get it. Maddie would probably kill me if I tried that anyway.” He shakes his head and then laughs when he hears Eddie’s stomach growl. “That wasn’t me this time.”
“Here, let me feed you,” Eddie says, shifting their position and reaching past Buck to his plate. He cuts off a bite of the pepper and holds it out for Buck, his pretty brown eyes almost sparkling as he watches him wrap his lips around the fork. “This is a family recipe, sweetheart. My great grandmother made it for her future husband. My abuela made it for my abuelo. My dad made it for my mom. And now I’ve made it for you.”
The bite is delicious. Buck chews slowly, savoring the burst of spices and flavors in his mouth before he swallows the bite. “It’s wonderful, baby,” he says, twisting around so he can reach the plate. “I didn’t know that your dad ever cooked, though.”
“My abuela made him follow the family tradition when he brought my mom home to meet his parents,” Eddie says, watching Buck cut off a piece of the pepper. “My mom told me once that it was awful, but he tried hard, and she knew that he was the one for her because he didn’t give up. They might not be the best parents, but they do love each other.”
“Open up, Eddie,” Buck says, watching Eddie take the fork into his mouth. “In a few more years, we’ll have to teach Chris how to make it, keep up the Diaz family tradition.” He laughs when he sees a drop of the white sauce in Eddie’s mustache, reaching over to wipe it off with his thumb. Eddie leans forward and wraps his lips around Buck’s thumb, sucking on it in a way that makes him hungry for something other than food.
When Eddie lets his thumb go with a wet pop, Eddie smirks up at him. “None of that on the first date, Buck,” he teases. “Eat your dinner like a good boy, and maybe I’ll reward you with another kiss.”
“I can be good,” Buck promises, leering playfully before leaning in to kiss Eddie before he accepts another bite of the pepper. After he swallows the bite, he deliberately licks his lips and slowly rolls his hips, holding Eddie’s gaze steadily. “But being bad can be really good, too, Eddie.”
There’s a moment of silence before Eddie curses in Spanish and drops his fork on the plate. He leans up and kisses Buck, his fingers tangling in Buck’s hair as he pulls him down. The kiss is hot—like toe-curling, breathtakingly hot. Every lick of Eddie’s tongue is like he’s claiming Buck, making him his, the hand on his hip moving to his ass and squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise, then Eddie’s kissing Buck’s face, licking and sucking until he reaches his neck. There are low whines and pleas for more that Buck realizes are coming from him, his eyelashes fluttering when Eddie sucks a bruise into his skin before biting his shoulder, just hard enough to leave a mark without breaking the skin.
“Mine,” Eddie murmurs, his voice low and raspy, almost a growl, and it awakens something animalistic inside Buck that has him leaning forward to make his own bite. The Henley is pulled aside, Eddie’s shoulder bare and waiting for him, and Buck bites down, feeling Eddie shudder beneath him, a low whimper making him suck hard, leaving a bruise when he pulls back.
“Mine,” Buck says, meeting Eddie’s gaze and holding it. He might belong to Eddie, might be getting off on the possessiveness he sees peaking through, but Eddie’s just as much his and needs to remember it. He kisses Eddie tenderly, a sweet kiss that eases the roughness they’ve just shared. “Let’s finish eating then I guess we should probably be mature and talk about our relationship so there isn’t any confusion about what we want.”
“I think we know what we want,” Eddie points out, rubbing his thumb over the bite mark on Buck’s shoulder and smirking slightly. “So maybe we can just spend a few hours making out on the couch instead.”
“Yeah, that, uh, that sounds good,” Buck says, really liking the smirk with the mustache and the pretty brow eyes. Like Eddie is a smoke show all the time, but this is somehow even hotter. He clears his throat before cutting another bite of food and offering it to Eddie. “Talking can wait until after the first date. Now, keep feeding me, so I can tell Isabel that you were a good boy who followed the Diaz family wooing custom.”
“You know, you could stand up and go back to your chair to eat,” Eddie says, shifting Buck’s weight on his lap and snorting when Buck just grins at him. Buck totally caught the way Eddie reacted to the ‘good boy’ comment, and he’s definitely exploring that in the future. Eddie eats the bite of food off Buck’s fork before offering Buck another bite.
Buck can’t help but think about how freaked out he’d been over the text. Tonight is certainly different, but not in a bad way at all. While they eat, Buck tells him about the calls he went on with B shift, and Eddie just listens with a smile, adding his own commentary occasionally. It’s something they’ve done dozens and dozens of times over the years, but it’s the first time they’ve done it with Buck on Eddie’s lap during the middle of their first date.
They’re smiling, laughing, and teasing like usual, but there’s another level to it now, an awareness of what they’ve both felt for so long but didn’t understand or realize until recently. It’s the love that’s always been there, but it’s in the open now, no longer hidden or ignored. It’s freeing, in a way, to be sharing a family tradition with Eddie and planning a future with his soulmate, because that’s what Eddie is even if he doesn’t believe in those things. Buck knows that he’s finally found what’s been missing all this time—the other half of his heart and his soul. And now that they belong to each other, he’s never letting Eddie go.