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Buck isn’t drunk. Far from it, evidently enough. But with five beers across the two of them, a light buzz fills the air surrounding the couch and entertains Buck’s busy mind. The steady hum of his heartbeat sets the pace for a racing mind begging to be satiated. In a last-ditch effort to quell the thirst, he slowly shifts his weight in Eddie’s direction. A foot-and-a-half of separation between the two of them and Buck feels it for the first time all night. From the heat rising in his cheeks to the warmth spreading across his thighs like wildfire, he feels it. Every last inch.
Buck finally peels his eyes away from the uninspired artwork above the mantle and gets a good look at Eddie. First, his eyes— a sweet, soulful trap Buck finds himself stuck in far too often. Tonight is no exception. Next, his delicately pink cheeks raised slyly into a smile. His favorite proof of life. And finally, the smooth, mustache-less area just above his lips. A question is begging to be asked, but Buck is so focused on avoiding the invitation sprawled across Eddie’s subtly-parted lips, he forgets to ask it. Forgets or neglects, he’s not sure. He thinks it’s selfish either way, but the thought holds little weight to him at the given moment.
With a quick flicker, Buck meets Eddie’s eyes once again and is certain he’s staring back. He can’t be entirely sure Eddie hasn’t been staring the entire time, or that he’d mind it if that were the case. His eyes shift back and forth between Eddie’s and Eddie immediately reciprocates, accepting the challenge Buck had unintentionally proposed.
And, so, they’re off— meticulously volleying the unspoken tension marring this sacred, liminal space between them. Buck wonders briefly if he’s always felt this inveterate tether tying him to Eddie. On a night like tonight, he thinks he could almost reach out and grab it. A small part of him yearns to take it with a firm grip and drag himself closer to Eddie, knowing he could only be so far removed from him at any time. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.
Buck sees it before he can feel it— his hand playing a devious game of betrayal, extending across the middle couch cushion and making it three-quarters of the way into Eddie’s space before he can gather himself enough to retract it. Eddie’s eyes chase Buck’s to the scene of the crime, the expression on his face different, but indecipherable.
In this blinding mix of subconscious yearning and subsequent self-degradation, Buck nearly misses tonight’s main attraction: Eddie, bare-faced and bare-legged to match. His thighs, soft and evenly tanned, grace the couch with conviction and captivate Buck, mind, body, and soul. He watches from beyond his body as his hands fold themselves neatly in his lap and his face drops into a scarlet shade of awe. Infatuation is too tame of a word for this feeling, he thinks.
He feels his piqued curiosity growing to fill the room, corner to corner. The obvious shift in temperament buzzes about the room with a deafening silence and Buck wonders if he’s the only one to hear it. Either way, he thinks, the responsibility is his to disperse the mess he’s created. Half-formed thoughts and lightly intoxicating fantasies light the path as he allows himself the first push.
“It’s hot in here”, he finally blurts out. It really isn’t, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.
The sweet silence once perfuming the room is all but extinct now. His words are loud and jarring and carry and unmistakable heat that lingers stalely in the air. He thinks this must be the most catastrophically awful way to have started this conversation. Nevertheless, Eddie smiles and makes a move towards the thermostat.
“Yeah, sorry… Heat kicks on at eight.. been meaning to fix it.”
“No, no, i-it’s fine”, Buck interrupts, a dismissive hand in the air. “I just thought you looked so hot… not hot! Warm… well, more like, like bright?” The words tumble out of him chaotically and spill out over the once spotless couch. So much for a sacred space…
“Sorry.”
“For what?”, Eddie inquires. He’s gentle, both in words and movement. He uses the hand already planted on the arm of the couch to ease himself back into position across from Buck.
“I don’t know… I just—”
“You look really happy, Eddie. It’s nice to see”, he finishes. It’s clunky, but it elicits the sweetest smile out of Eddie and Buck can’t help but take a bit of pride in that, even after all this time.
“Well, thank you very much”, Eddie starts, his hands gesturing across his height in a self-deprecating attempt at taking the compliment.
“The magic of the church, you could say”, and he laughs with the inside joke Buck is not yet privy to. Buck warms to Eddie’s joy, nonetheless, and forgets almost immediately about its context. Another conversation to be had. Later, he thinks. Later.
A beat passes where the two exchange hearty smiles and intimate glances without a word between them. The auburn light emitting from the corner lamp illuminates Eddie in a cozy honey hue. Buck thinks he can see at least eight different shades of brown in his eyes, and he’s only just beginning. With an hour more, he might find the whole world kept securely within them. If only he had the time.
“Well”, Buck starts, unsure as to where exactly he’s heading.
“Happiness is a very handsome look on you.”
And the dam breaks. Eddie lets out an involuntary guffaw and the dam breaks. Buck wishes it hadn’t, but the dam breaks.
“What?”, he snaps. Eddie jerks back, assessing the situation.
“You’re drunk, Buck”, he settles on.
“I am not! I mean it…”, and the softness is back. Eddie wipes the concern from his face with the back of his hand and tries again.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Says who?”
“I just mean… you can’t mean that— not tonight.”
Buck is silent. If it weren’t for his shifting eyes fighting with all their might to keep the tears at bay, Eddie might think he was completely down for the count.
“Listen…”, Eddie begins.
“Tomorrow. When you’re in your right mind, we’ll pick this up… And if you’re serious about this, well…”
“We’ll figure it out?”, Buck answers with a sheepish whisper. His glossy eyes meet Eddie’s and he knows with all the certainty in the world that this has always been there. He’s never been so sure.
“We always do”, Eddie answers sweetly and simply.
“C’mon, let’s get you home.”
————————————
The car ride over to Buck’s is cozy and uncomplicated. Buck rests his eyes blissfully knowing full well that they will always come back to this. They could argue and miscommunicate until day turns night, but they’ll always have this— a safety net unburdened by their complications and shortcomings. They’re far from perfect, and thank God for that.
“Let me walk you up”, Eddie whispers. A soft hand graces Buck’s shoulder and shakes him delicately out of his premature nap. He nods knowingly and leads the way with one eye open.
As they approach the loft door, Buck regains greater consciousness and uses it in his favor, grabbing at the correct key with confidence and swinging the door open easily. The lulling quiet is back and Buck submits to it without question.
“Thank you”, Buck whispers into the hush. He can’t see it in the deep dark of an early autumn night, but he feels Eddie’s grip returning comfortably to his shoulder.
“Get some sleep, Buck. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Buck can’t see his face, but he feels the wholeheartedness dripping off of Eddie’s every last word. He slides the door closed and allows his body to fall into it just briefly.
Sure to make good on his promise, Buck drags himself lazily up the stairs and into bed. He finds himself happy that he’s even had the mental capacity to take off his shoes before flopping down into the king size mattress. He burrows himself in, yearning for some comfort to distract himself from the promise of tomorrow. But, as he snuggles in deeper and stretches across the mattress’ width, he realizes he’s wholly inadequate to fill this space on his own.
It’s a waste— a waste of space, of life. A waste.
He needs Eddie, he thinks.
Tonight, he’ll go to bed heartbroken. He’ll think fondly of the life that could be with this bed made for two, and he’ll think of Eddie, and a fresh breakup will be the furthest thing from his mind.
——————-
On the opposite end of town, Eddie gingerly opens his front door, locking it up behind him. He doubles back to check it again, briefly wondering if there were anyone left in this house to protect so ferociously. Evidently not, he thinks fleetingly.
He rounds the couch and collapses down on it, but the relief is short-lived. He’s quick to his feet, making a move to be anywhere but there. The image of this couch playing second fiddle to tonight’s life-altering implosion is burnt in Eddie’s eyes and in the fibers of the couch itself. He allows himself the small hope that tomorrow will bring something to mend what’s been broken. Some upholstery patches or a love confession or two would do just fine, he thinks. Just fine, indeed.
———————
Five beers and one shot of hindsight in, Buck begins to see clearly. The confusion in Eddie’s eyes washes away to nothing as he realizes he spent the entirety of tonight fumbling his way through every thought in his head, but the breakup. In his long history of miscommunications, this surely couldn’t be the worst. He makes a quick mental note to take care of that first and foremost tomorrow. It’d count for a minor infraction in their pact of honesty, he thinks, but Buck was more than certain they’d make it through, no problem. They always did.