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Eddie knew what Buck was trying to do, right from the moment he proposed the whole thing. It was sweet, though, and it wasn't too expensive, and it would make Buck happy, and Eddie was sure that Buck's giddy smile would take some of the edge off of missing Chris and mourning the loss of future Halloweens.
Putting on a trench coat and a pair of wings felt like a good deal, for all of that. And Buck even promised not to say anything about his mustache.
Eddie stepped out of his bedroom, spreading his arms. "Well?"
Buck was smiling, bright with just an edge of teasing. "Your tie's wrong."
Buck stepped forward, hands outstretched, and Eddie swallowed as he felt the touch of Buck's fingers at the base of his neck. His body went still, afraid of how easily he might be able to shake Buck off.
"I think I know how to tie a tie."
The knot came apart in Buck's hands, and he looped it back around Eddie's neck, loosely re-tying it.
"Cas doesn't," Buck said cheerily. He patted Eddie's chest as he stepped away, eyes trailing down Eddie's body-- costume-- in a way that Eddie couldn't allow himself to interpret as anything other than pride, for convincing Eddie to go along with this whole thing.
Eddie's tie was now a mess. He did his best to blot out the desire to fix it.
"Almost perfect," Buck said, and that was all the warning he got before Buck's hand was on him again, this time dragging through his hair, tugging lightly at sections of it to mess it up.
Eddie stayed still. His fists clenched with the determination to do so.
"Good?" He asked, when Buck stepped away.
"Good," Buck said, with a blinding sort of smile that made Eddie's heart skip a beat.
Pathetically, he found himself relaxing into the costume. The clothes all fit well-- mostly because they were his clothes-- and the wings, while a noticeable weight, weren't digging into his shoulders.
Buck patted his shoulders. "I gotta get changed. This Halloween's going to be great!"
Eddie believed that he believed it. Without Buck in the room smiling at him, he was starting to feel increasingly stupid.
Buck was the Supernatural fan, not him. Eddie had barely been in the mood to hand out candy, after everything that happened, but Buck had dragged Eddie out to go costume-shopping the minute he found out they both had Halloween night off. I'll be Dean, Buck had said, and you'll be Cas. And, hey, we can watch one of those R-rated scary movies in between trick-or-treaters.
Eddie had seen a handful of episodes of Supernatural-- all ones that Buck had forced him (and Chris) to watch. Eddie had at least seen that one episode where Dean came back from Hell, thanks to the angel; Buck was a big fan of that one in particular it seemed. Well, really, any episode with Castiel and Dean interacting-- especially the one with the cowboy hats. When Eddie heard through the grapevine-- not even through Buck, at first, which was worrying in and of itself-- that Castiel actually did a love confession, he'd expected that episode to be the very next thing Buck showed him.
Buck didn't.
He'd sent Eddie several memes about world news using that format of Castiel crying. But he'd never mentioned the episode. Not even when Eddie swung by his house for dinner after a shift two weeks after the episode aired, and Eddie had subtely suggested that maybe they should watch something together.
Buck had picked the time loop episode that Cas wasn't in. Dean just kept dying over and over again, with no deep, teary confession to save him.
The pointed lack of the confessions episode in everything except news about the presidential election was not lost on Eddie.
Nor was the fact that Buck had put himself in the role of Dean Winchester and casted Eddie as Castiel.
Not Sam, Dean's brother. Castiel.
It was a good parallel. The best possible one-- Dean Winchester and the man destined to be his best friend, the fallen angel who was irrevocably, unrequitedly in love with him. Who could be swayed and corrupted so easily by a single touch. Eddie just prayed it was unintentional on Buck's part.
Cas got to die after his confession to Dean. He didn't have to stick around for the fallout, for the awkward rejection paired with a stilted pat on the shoulder, the last casual touch he'd recieve for a while. He didn't have to deal with the forgotten invites and the missed calls and the desperate avoidance of any future one-on-one time.
It wasn't like Eddie was jealous. Being dead probably sucked, even in TV world. But. Well. Eddie understood the reason that the great angel Castiel waited until his last breath to say those three little words.
"What do you think?" Buck asked, stepping out of Eddie's bedroom with a flourish. "Good, right?"
Buck's costume was simple: a tight black t-shirt (why was it so tight?) and a pair of well-worn jeans, with a green canvas jacket tied around his waist. There's a necklace hanging from his neck-- some sort of weird brown thing with antlers-- and a set of silver rings on his fingers. One of them might've been a wedding ring; Eddie tried not to think about where Buck got one of those from.
Because Eddie couldn't just keep his mouth shut, he said, "Aren't you supposed to be wearing plaid?"
Buck's smile didn't waver. "He isn't when he's crawling out of Hell. Ooh! Speaking of, I have the perfect final touch."
He went for his bag and Eddie groaned.
"Don't tell me you got one of those anti-possession tattoos." He could vividly imagine Buck pulling down the collar of that tight t-shirt to show the tanned expanse of his collarbone and the dark markings that would be there. He might end up dying anyway if Buck pulled that kind of stunt in real life.
"Nope! I've got something way better."
Buck triumphantly pulled out a tube of red dye. Eddie raised his eyebrow as Buck marched over, snatching a paper plate and squeezing out a blob of it.
"You're gonna give me your handprint."
"My what?"
Buck set the plate down on the counter in front of Eddie and hiked up the sleeve of his shirt, cuffing it at his shoulder. Eddie gulped, looking down at the red dye on the plate, then back at the expanse of Buck's shoulder.
"Come on, Eddie," Buck said. "Grip me tight and raise me from perdition."
Oh. Right. Of course. Like Cas did for Dean.
Eddie cleared his throat. "Are you sure that stuff isn't going to stain?"
That would be something, wouldn't it? Being able to see the edge of his own palm, peeking out from underneath the edge of his shirts, for weeks after this moment.
Eddie had seen enough of the show to know that the handprint Castiel had left on Dean was more of a scar, raised and pale red and ugly, seared into his shoulder by a being of immense power. He wondered what Castiel thought of it-- was he proud of what it represented? Was he apologetic that he marked someone that wasn't his?
"It'll be fine," Buck said. He motioned to his blank shoulder. "Just do it."
Eddie dipped his hand in the red paint and tenderly touched his palm to Buck's shoulder, letting it linger against Buck's warm skin. Buck gave him a tiny nod, and Eddie withdrew his hand, wiping it off the extra dye on a paper towel. There was still a red tint to his hand, but it seemed promising that it would come off with a little bit of water.
Buck craned his neck to see the handprint. Eddie took a picture of it and showed it to him, and Buck looked...triumphant.
"Told you it was the perfect final touch," Buck said, fiddling with his rolled-up sleeve to make sure it didn't smear the handprint.
Eddie nodded and turned his attention to the sink. He was right; the dye ran right off his skin, turning the water a slight pink as it circled the drain. He glanced outside the kitchen window, where he could see the sky starting to darken, streetlamps flickering on to bathe young kids and their costumes in a yellow glow.
He could feel Buck hovering over his shoulder, practically brushing against the cheap black feathers of his wings.
"Come on," Buck said. He still hadn't rolled down his sleeve. "Where's your candy bowl? We might as well get it ready before we start that movie."
"Surprised you're not still suggesting a Supernatural episode," Eddie said. He turned back to Buck, faking a smile.
"You're right," Buck said. He perked up at the thought that he could fix Eddie so easily. Eddie loved him for it. "I'll always make you watch Supernatural. There's one Christmas episode that's pretty freaky-- Santa Claus hauls some dude up a chimney. Or, you know what? There's that episode that's shot in black and white, like an old monster movie--"
"Is Castiel in one of those?" Eddie asked. His throat felt dry. "I mean, if I'm wearing his outfit..."
Buck hesitated. "Uh, yeah, I'm sure I can think of a good scary one with him."
The sleeve of Buck's shirt had started to slip, covering the red pads of Eddie's fingers.
"What about the one from that meme you keep sending me?" Eddie pushed. He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say. The straps of his little wings dug into his shoulders.
"Yeah," Buck said. "Yeah, we can watch that. If we want to."
Eddie wasn't sure if he did. Buck didn't move to go to the living room or turn on the TV; he was frozen in Eddie's orbit.
"Why Cas?" Eddie blurted out. "Why not Sam?"
"You've always reminded me of Cas." Buck's eyes shifted off Eddie's face. His smile faded, becoming almost bittersweet. "And, well, everyone knows Cas is the one Dean...you know."
Eddie frowned, thinking of the memes Buck had sent him. "I thought it was the other way around."
"He doesn't know how to say it," Buck replied. He cleared his throat. "Dean, I mean."
"You don't always have to say it."
Eddie reached out, carefully pulling Buck's sleeve back up to reveal the handprint, bright red against Buck's skin. And then, something changed. Eddie leaned in, or maybe Buck did it first, Eddie wasn't sure. But they were closer, and then they were kissing, Buck's lips warm and soft against his own. The wings might've been real for all Eddie knew, weightlessness in his stomach paired with the soothed desire running through his veins.
Eddie was just a little sorry that Castiel couldn't experience this, too.
The doorbell rang and they sprang apart.
"We should--"
"I'll get the candy," Buck said. He started to move, but stopped, looking back at Eddie. "That was nice, though. We should definitely, uh--"
"Get the candy, Buck," Eddie said, rolling his eyes and truly smiling for what might've been the first time all night.