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“I want to come home.”
Eddie’s heart leapt into his throat the moment those five words left Christopher’s mouth. One short sentence, five little words, and yet it was the greatest thing he’d heard in months, knocking Buck’s ‘Tommy dumped me’ from the top spot.
Christopher’s statement had come from nowhere, just seconds before he’d been sharing all about the fun he was having in Texas, throwing out names of new friends he’d made to whom Eddie had no faces to match them to. Eddie stared dumbly at his screen, not quite processing, not quite daring to believe that his ears weren’t betraying him.
He leaned in closer and stumbled apprehensively over his words as he responded, “Say- Say that again?”
“I want to come home, Dad.”
Eddie released a shaky breath of relief. His mind wasn’t playing cruel tricks on him. His son finally, finally, was ready to open the door to him, to get things back on track, to be the little family that they were supposed to be. A chuckle of relief escaped his lips, a huge weight lifted off his shoulders; Eddie rubbed his face and sat upright, perching on the very edge of the couch.
“Yeah, uh, I want you home too, Chris,” Eddie spoke with a refrained enthusiasm, despite the raging party coursing through every inch of his body. “Just – just tell me when.”
“But…”
Christopher’s eyes drifted sideways, breaking contact with the screen, avoiding looking at Eddie, a tendency which often came when he was hesitant to say something.
Eddie’s heart dropped to the depths of his stomach, on a real rollercoaster ride in the last few minutes. But. That dreaded, conditional word; here’s the good news but now let’s rip it away. His mind raced with hundreds of possibilities; I want to come home but only for a few days, I want to come home but just to catch up with my old friends, I want to come home but I don’t think it’s the right time, I want to come home but I still don’t want to live with you.
The endless silence, the word but lingering in the air, was driving him crazy.
“But what, Christopher?” Eddie demanded, the words coming out blunter than intended.
“But…” that horrific word again, “I need you to stop… trying to replace Mom.”
It came out as a whisper and Christopher’s head immediately dropped, leaving Eddie to stare at the top of his head.
“What?” Eddie gaped. “Replace your mom? Christopher, I-”
“Don’t deny it, Dad,” Christopher cut him off. “The first person you dated after Mom died was my teacher! That’s like, the closest you can get to a parental figure without being a parental figure.”
“You liked Ana!” Eddie returned defensively.
“But you didn’t!” Christopher returned knowingly. “Not in the way you were supposed to.”
“That was… complicated,” Eddie made a poor attempt at providing an explanation, words at a loss to him, his mind racing to keep up with the apparent analysis Christopher had conducted of his dating history.
“Was it really? Look at what happened recently. You were working things out with Marisol, things were going good, and you ruined it as soon as you saw someone who looked like Mom!” Christopher continued bluntly and huffed, “I don’t need another mom! I have- I just want my dad back!”
“And I just want you back,” Eddie implored. “So, okay. You come home and I won’t date anyone, simple as that.”
If those were the conditions for him to have his son back, he’d even be prepared to sign a contract. Eddie didn’t need a girlfriend, or a multitude of dates which just made him feel like a performing monkey. He needed his son. After the long, long months without him, he would agree to travel to the moon and back just to get Christopher back where he belonged.
“No!”
The shout from Christopher was fuelled with frustration and took Eddie entirely by surprise.
“I didn’t say no dating,” Christopher spoke sharply then softened as he continued, “You need to date someone because they make you happy. Someone who makes you laugh. Someone who cooks you nice food and takes you nice places. Someone you can talk to for hours without running out of things to say. Someone who has your back. Someone you can count on. Someone you feel comfortable with. Someone you want to spend all your time with. Someone special. Oh! But you can only tell one person at a time that they’re special or they won’t feel special and will think you’re not-so-nice and you’ll ruin it. Again.”
That ‘again’ felt personal, but Eddie didn’t linger on it, taken aback by all the other words which had poured out of his son’s mouth. He didn’t just look older, he sounded it. Fourteen-years-old and Eddie had missed out on months – months during which he had grown and matured, and during which Eddie had barely been able to get a word out of him, let alone a whole lecture.
“When did you get so wise?” Eddie managed to compile his thoughts enough to question.
Christopher’s eyes narrowed as he took a moment to consider, and a small smile pulled at his lips as he replied, “It’s the Buck talks.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep!” Christopher’s confirmation was assured, his eyes lighting up as he grew less hesitant about the conversation topic. “You know, Buck also said that a guy who likes girls can also like boys and that’s okay, so long as he’s only telling one person at a time that they’re special.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Eddie nodded, pretty sure that statement came from the time Buck had sat down to chat to Christopher about his new (ultimately short-lived) relationship with Tommy. “But I think we’re going off on a tangent now, Chris.”
Christopher shrugged.
“If you say so.”
Eddie stepped through the door into Buck’s loft the very second it was opened to him, tossing a brief ‘hi’ at Buck before swiftly navigating the route to his couch and all-but throwing himself onto it.
“Hey Eddie, uh, everything alright?” Buck called over to him as Eddie heard the door click shut.
“Yeah, it’s great, fantastic, amazing, never been better,” Eddie rifled through a mental thesaurus as he tried his best to sound enthusiastic then sighed and added, “I think?”
Buck moved deeper into his apartment, stepping past his stairs, but didn’t say a word, allowing Eddie to expand in his own time.
“Christopher spoke to me,” Eddie explained. “Like, properly; full sentences, the works. We spoke for a good hour. Or, he did. I could barely get a word in at times.”
Buck returned with a small nod as he smiled and stuck a hand towards him, “Well that’s great progress, right?”
“Yeah, amazing,” Eddie repeated with a single nod and sighed before continuing, “I guess I’m just worried about messing it up again and- hold on, why aren’t you surprised?”
Eddie eyed the other man suspiciously. He was smiling, visibly happy for him, yet there was no shock at the newest development.
“What?” Buck failed to feign ignorance.
“You knew,” Eddie spoke accusatorially.
“Okay,” Buck conceded and set himself down at the other side of the couch. “Honestly? Chris reached out, said he wanted to talk with you but didn’t know how best to lead. After months of freezing you out, he thought it might be awkward, trying to get back to where you once were. So, I just gave him a few pointers and lots of encouragement every time he seemed on the verge of backtracking.”
Eddie nodded in understanding. It tracked. When he first found out about Ana, Christopher went straight to Buck. During the tsunami, he had been calling out for Buck. When Eddie had broken down and smashed up his room, Christopher first call had been to Buck. After his move to Texas, Buck was the first person that Christopher messaged directly. Whenever Eddie wasn’t there, or messed up, or was in need of help, Christopher’s first point of turn was always Buck, and the man had never let him down.
“I don’t need another mom.”
Christopher’s words echoed in Eddie’s head and suddenly it seemed so obvious. He’d been so wrapped up in finding some secondary parental figure in his dating life, someone to step up when he failed, that he hadn’t spotted the one who had so naturally slipped into their lives; the person he trusted most with his son, the very man he had entered in his will as Christopher’s legal guardian should anything happen to him.
Buck was always there for Christopher; for advice, jokes, a shoulder to cry on, anything he needed, Buck either had it or found a way to get it. He was there for every birthday and almost every school event, and he’d never shielded away from the hard stuff – willingly talking to Christopher about dating etiquette, and stepping up when Eddie had been shot, breaking the news to Christopher personally, and proving to Eddie that he had made the right decision to insert Buck into his will.
Christopher’s unspoken words sounded loudly in Eddie’s head; ‘I don’t need another mom. I have a Buck. I just want my dad back.’
To Christopher, Buck was more than just his dad’s best friend. Buck was the guy he could always rely on. Buck was the guy he teamed up with to pull pranks on Eddie. Buck was the guy he tried to swing onto his side of disagreements with Eddie, to the point that Eddie had perfected ‘the look’ he shot at Buck whenever it was clear that the man was about to side with his son. Buck was the guy who took him to the zoo all the time as a kid. Buck was the guy who baked cupcakes with him for school. Buck was the guy who taught him how to light a campfire. To Christopher, Buck was family.
“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie responded with the upmost sincerity, no words ever enough to express the depths of his appreciation. “For everything.”
“He belongs here. Home. With you. Now this calls for a celebration!” Buck declared. “There’s cold beers in the fridge.”
Buck made a move to get up from the couch, but Eddie was faster, jumping up abruptly and insisting, “I’ll get them.”
He crossed the loft to the fridge, grateful for the space and time, if only short, to process his revelation. He’d been unknowingly co-parenting with his best friend for years. He glanced back at Buck, head in his phone, typing a message; was he just as blind to the reality as Eddie had been? Did he realise how big of a part he had become in Christopher’s life?
Eddie turned back to the fridge and reached for the handle, beer due to be a welcomed sight, but his hand didn’t even make it to the handle, dropping absent-mindedly back to his side as Eddie marvelled at the pictures which littered the front of Buck’s fridge.
There were pictures of Jee at the beach, Jee on her first day at daycare, Jee in the captain’s seat of the fire truck, Buck and Maddie together at the hospital on her wedding day, and Buck with Maddie, Chimney and Jee at the zoo; family pictures. Then there were the pictures of Christopher; a recent picture of Christopher at a Texan zoo pointing out the monkeys behind him, and a younger Christopher on his modified skateboard, Eddie and Buck on either side of him boasting matching smiles.
But Eddie’s wide-eyed stare was fixed on one particular photo.
It was a picture from a past Christmas, Christopher tearing open a present at the firehouse with Buck knelt in front of him, helping tentatively, and Eddie watching on. It was a Christmas Buck had helped to save, after they had been scheduled to work it, gathering all their friends and families together at the firehouse, and ensuring that Eddie had been able to spend Christmas with Christopher after all. Almost five years on and Buck had, once again, played a large part in getting Christopher back to him. Buck was the glue which held Eddie’s small family together. A small family which Buck also considered to be a part of his own, judging by the pictures on his fridge, pictures of Christopher and Eddie mixed in with the ones of Maddie, Chimney and Jee, and a small smile crept onto Eddie’s face.
Eddie’s heart filled with a warmth he had never experienced before.
“You need to date someone because they make you happy.”
Buck. Buck made him happy. No matter how dark and terrible the future looked, Buck was there, talking things through, mending the messes that Eddie had made to his bedroom wall, to his life, to his relationship with his son. Buck brought the joy and happiness back into his life.
“Someone who makes you laugh.”
There were countless times Buck had made him laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe, and times his ribs had burst with pain as he laughed so hard. With his curses and his jinxes, the ferocity with which he argued his opinions about Star Wars as fact, and daft pranks he came out with out of nowhere to pull on their colleagues – whether intentional or not, Buck never failed to make him laugh, it was what he did.
“Someone who cooks you nice food-”
Buck had become a master chef under Bobby’s wise teachings and Buck’s finally perfected lasagne was a meal Eddie would never turn down, even if he had just eaten, the physical manifestation of the phrase ‘heaven in your mouth’. And it wasn’t just cooking. It was baking too. It had begun as stress-baking but even as Buck had moved on, all-but forgotten about Tommy, the baking continued and Buck still randomly turns up on his doorstep, a whole basket of baked goods in his hands and Eddie compliments his baking every time without fail and that shy smile creeps onto Buck’s face and Eddie savours that rare, shy smile every time it makes an appearance.
“-and takes you nice places.”
Basketball games and fights had become regular fixtures in Eddie’s life, Buck surprising him with tickets on an almost weekly occasion. It was the third time it had happened that Eddie had told Buck he didn’t need to do it, knowing full well that Buck hated both sports, and Buck had stared at him like a lost puppy and demanded to know who else Eddie would go with.
“Someone you can talk to for hours without running out of things to say.”
Since Christopher had left for Texas, Buck had crashed on Eddie’s couch a countless number of times; the pair falling into deep conversation or utterly stupid ones and losing track of time, talking into the early hours of the morning. Seven years had passed since they had first met; Eddie knew everything about Buck, Buck knew everything about him, and yet they never had a hard time finding something to talk about.
“Someone who has your back.”
Every day. From the end of their first shift together.
“Someone you can count on.”
With everything he held dear.
“Someone you feel comfortable with.”
He told Buck everything and anything, felt comfortable to do so, and Buck did the same. There were no secrets between them.
“Someone you want to spend all your time with.”
He spent the majority of his every waking hours with Buck; at work, at home, at Buck’s loft, at lakers games. Buck was nearly always at his side, and Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Someone special.”
Buck.
“Oh!”
Oh, indeed.
“Hey, what’s the hold-up?” Eddie startled at the sound of Buck’s voice, his words reminding Eddie where he was; in Buck’s kitchen, staring at his fridge. “Forgotten where the fridge is?”
Buck’s voice grew louder, closer, with every word. Eddie spun around to face him, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, staring wide-eyed at Buck’s approaching figure. More of his conversation with Christopher replayed in his head, the words screaming at him internally, at max volume.
“You know, Buck also said that a guy who likes girls can also like boys and that’s okay so long as he’s only telling one person at a time that they’re special.”
“Yeah, that’s right. But I think we’re going off on a tangent right now.”
“If you say so.”
He had said so. Because his best friend’s sexuality had no impact on him – he was supportive, he had reassured him with ‘this changes nothing between us’ and he had meant it – because Buck was into guys, and Eddie was straight. Then Buck was dating Tommy, and Eddie was supportive, even when he felt a strong, unfamiliar feeling right in the pit of his stomach when Tommy had arrived and disrupted his and Buck’s matching costumes at Chim’s bachelor party. Buck kept dating Tommy, and Eddie was supportive, even when he’d had to force a smile and nod when Buck asked about bringing Tommy to Christopher’s surprise party. Then Buck was broken up with by Tommy and Eddie was supportive, listening, as a best friend does, half-naked on the couch, as an increasingly drunk Buck slurred about being left again whilst Eddie struggled to comprehend how any person, let alone the multitude who had, could leave a hot, caring, amazing guy like Buck. Buck was bisexual, Eddie was straight, and nothing had changed between them.
Buck kept walking, entering his own kitchen, growing ever closer, and Eddie absent-mindedly backed off. He didn’t need to smell that strong, enticing cologne that Buck had worn every day since their night out a week ago which had Buck constantly approached and Eddie watching on, that strong, unfamiliar feeling creeping back into the pit of his stomach, as strangers hand’s snuck under Buck’s shirt, exploring parts of his best friend’s body unbeknownst to Eddie. He and Buck were supposed to know everything about each other. Eddie wanted to know everything about Buck.
Buck stepped up to his own fridge, opening the door which swung close to Eddie’s face, that picture from Christmas taking up his entire vision; Eddie, Christopher, and Buck – all three of them, together.
The fridge door closed.
Buck held out a beer for Eddie to take.
“Here.” Buck offered.
Eddie couldn’t think. He needed to think. He couldn’t think. Not when all he could see was Buck and those photographs and a tempting beer, offering to remove all inhibitions. He needed to think. He couldn’t not think. He needed to take things slow, to figure out what things were, to get things right, for once.
“Eddie?” Buck prompted, stretching his arm out further, the beer growing closer; all Eddie had to do was reach out and take it.
Eddie backed up, stumbling into Buck’s kitchen counter, the sharp corner digging into his side. He winced and awkwardly continued shuffling around the counter as he made an unconventional move for the door.
“I’ve got a therapy session,” Eddie rushed out an excuse, his thumb jerking towards the door he was retreating to. “I forgot. I need- I have to go.”
He left.
He hadn’t lied, not totally.
It was all he kept telling himself on his hurried walk from Buck’s loft to his truck. Except he had lied; there was no booked therapy session and even if there had been, he would have cancelled it. He was nowhere near ready to talk to his therapist about that.
But he needed to talk to someone.
Buck.
He would normally talk to Buck. Buck was his number one guy for advice, the person he could always rely on to be there, the very first person he turned to, the fixer of one-hundred-and-one problems, and all the rest after that too.
But he couldn’t talk to Buck, not about this, and that realisation tore at his insides.
He jumped in his car, slammed the door shut and hit the wheel in frustration. His horn blared.
This doesn’t change a thing between us.
Everything had changed. Things kept changing. The last time he had been in a position where he couldn’t turn to Buck was back during the lawsuit and that was so long ago that he’d forgotten how painful it was; the way it tore at his heartstrings and his heart threatened to break into tiny, unsalvageable pieces.
He turned the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life, and he hit the gas pedal. His wheels spun, screeching against the road, and he left Buck’s building in his rearview mirror, no clear destination set.
He fell into an autopilot of sorts as he drove, his mind preoccupied, racing with thoughts, and he found himself parked up outside Bobby and Athena’s apartment building. It made sense. After Buck, Bobby was his go-to for advice, or rather, more frequently, Bobby was the guy Buck would signpost him to whenever he felt he wasn’t the best fit for the advice required.
He got so far as the front door – his clenched fist hovering in front of it, prepared to knock – when he backed off, talking himself out of it. Bobby was a great leader, had always guided him down the right path, and had proven himself to be supportive, but Eddie knew, deep down, he would benefit most from talking with someone who had lived his experience.
Buck would have been perfect.
But Buck wasn’t an option.
He wound up back in his car, driving mindlessly around the city. He drifted back into autopilot on a few occasions, only to catch himself on the route to Buck’s, forcing him into a swift U-turn manoeuvre.
After driving in circles, not daring to go home to an empty house to face his thoughts alone, and burning through the majority of his full tank of gas, Eddie eventually pulled up outside Hen’s house. He remained in the driver’s seat, making no move to get out. He needed to talk about it, but could he dare to speak of it? His heart pounded in his chest at the thoughts. Could he really say those words out loud?
He had to. He was going to explode if he didn’t talk to someone.
No more thinking. He forced himself to get out of his car, to march himself up to the front door and to knock, loudly, three times.
No backing out.
He took a deep breath as the door opened. Hen stood on the other side and her head tilted slightly at Eddie’s unannounced arrival.
“Eddie, hi,” she greeted cheerfully, masking most of her surprise.
“Sorry, I know I didn’t call ahead,” he momentarily used his sudden arrival to avoid the big topic and promptly found another one, “Uh, Christopher wants to come home.”
“Eddie, that’s amazing!” Hen exclaimed triumphantly.
She pulled him into a hug which he didn’t return, too focused on where the conversation was inevitably leading to focus on the present. Her joy rescinded as she released him. She took a step back and eyed him carefully.
“So, why do you look like you’re about to pass out on my front porch?” she inquired.
Words had never poured out of his mouth so fast, “I think Christopher thinks I’m in love with Buck.”
“Okay.” Hen nodded calmly; no prying, no pushing, just acceptance.
Eddie swallowed. His mouth had never felt so dry.
“And… and I think he might be right. And I’m pretty fucking confused right now, to be honest with you.”
A huge weight lifted off his chest as he finally spoke the words out loud. Getting the words out of his head was almost freeing and he released a nervous chuckle.
Hen nodded lightly, like one of those bobbing heads people stuck on their car dashboards.
“Come on in,” Hen invited, stepping back from the door.
He stepped inside, venturing further into the house as Hen shut the door behind him.
“Do you want a coffee?” she offered.
“You got anything stronger?”