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The time is approaching 10pm. Buck and Eddie sit in silence, illuminated only by the light of the TV, which is currently displaying a documentary that Buck stumbled upon. Something to do with marine animals, specifically those who mate for life. Buck’s arms are folded over his chest, brows furrowed in focus. Eddie, who has looked at the TV maybe twice in the last twenty minutes, is watching Buck, amused. He’s secretly looking forward to whatever rabbit hole Buck might pull him down when the program ends. “Of course there’s seahorses here,” Buck scoffs, gesturing to the screen. “Males having the babies isn’t enough for them,” he finishes, crossing his arms again.
Eddie smiles fondly. “Didn’t know you were so passionately anti seahorse.”
Buck turns to him. “They’re freaky. I’m not ‘anti seahorse’” he mimics. “But you have to admit they are freaky.”
Eddie chuckles, “Whatever you say, Buck.”
The two return to their comfortable silence. Worried that he’ll make the entire atmosphere weird if he watches Buck any longer, Eddie listens in. “As for the albatross,” the narrator, whose voice is very easy to listen to, Eddie notes, says. “But these birds are known to be quite picky in the partners they choose,” Eddie tilts his head slightly in interest. “There’s no rushing into partnership for these lovebirds. Females only lay one egg at a time, meaning each chick gets quality time with mom and dad,” A pause. “Or, in special cases, dad and dad.”
Eddie, without meaning to, really, glances quickly at Buck as the scene changes from a female bird incubating her egg, to two other birds fawning over a newborn chick. “These two partners,” the soothing voice begins again, “are male. The team has been following the one on the right, called Einstein, since he was courting his first partner, a female albatross, who was unfortunately killed by fishers.”
Eddie sits up straighter, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy about where this bird story is going. Buck, sensing the subtle change, huffs in amusement. “Einstein,” he says to Eddie, without looking at him.
“Einstein and his current partner, Beaker, seem to have fallen into an easy partnership. To scientists’ amazement and confusion, Beaker easily took the place of Einstein’s lost love. And it seems Beaker’s love went beyond their chick,” the scene changes to a different video of the birds, snuggled together in their nest. Eddie shifts in his seat. “How this happened, we can’t be sure, but-”
The screen shuts off, and the living room goes dark. Buck has sat up, remote in his hand, still pointed at the TV. “Well,” he laughs, nervously. “It’s getting late, huh?” He sets the remote on the table and stands, stretching his arms over his head.
Eddie watches him stretch. He tries to fight the urge to stare, but it’s dark enough that it probably wouldn’t matter if he did. He sets his half-empty beer on the table next to the remote, and stands too, reaching for the lamp to his right before he faces Buck. “I’ll walk you out,” he says, quietly.
When they get to Eddie’s porch, Buck turns around. “I’ll be back in the morning? I told Chris we could try this pancake recipe he found on TikTok,” he waves his hand in the air. “Chocolate banana something.”
Eddie leans on the doorway, a combination of exhaustion and fondness in his eyes. He smiles softly. “You know I’ll never prevent you from cooking in this house.”
“As long as I’m not break up baking, at least,” they both chuckle.
There’s silence again, but neither man moves. Buck looks at Eddie, and from the way his eyes move around Eddie’s face, the doorway, and the living room behind him, it’s obvious that Buck is debating something. But then his shoulder’s sag slightly, and it’s clear to Eddie that whatever he was going to say is going to continue ruminating through his brain on his drive home. He lifts a brow. “Everything okay?”
Buck smiles, achingly beautiful even though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says, putting his hands into his jacket pockets. “Just thinking about all the flour I still have, and wondering which might be best for pancakes.”
“I vote the normal one,” Eddie says, causing Buck to shake his head, that smile finally reaching his eyes. Eddie’s fingers grip the front door a little harder in an attempt to keep from reaching for Buck.
“Goodnight, Eds,” Buck says, finally stepping away from the door.
“Goodnight,” he responds, waiting until Buck reaches his Jeep to close the door. Once closed, he leans against it, and takes a breath. Birds? Really?
Laying in bed, Eddie tries not to think about the similarities between him and Buck and “Beaker and Einstein”. He shakes his head again. He feels ridiculous, spiraling over some ocean documentary. He hasn’t allowed himself to consider his and his best friend’s dynamic before, hasn’t allowed himself to think about how it might look to anyone who isn’t the two of them. What could anyone who doesn’t know them think? What would they see? He considers this last question. They would see two men, bursting at the seams with love for the same 14 year old. Can the deep level of trust Eddie has for Buck be seen in his eyes? Is it obvious that he is in awe of Buck everyday? Of the way he effortlessly carved out a space in Eddie’s and Christopher’s lives and has left a permanent mark in the shape of the one above his eye? Eddie smiles to the ceiling at the thought, and falls asleep.
The next morning, when Buck returns in sweats, smiling like he wasn’t in the Diaz house less than 12 hours ago, hands full of bags containing ingredients, Eddie realizes what everyone else would probably see. Love.
Love, plain and simple, in every form. Love in the way that Buck neatly places his shoes by the door and drops his keys in the bowl. Love in the way that Chris beams when he sees Buck enter the kitchen with pancake ingredients. Love in Buck’s eyes when he surrenders after Chris insists that this recipe is different from other chocolate banana pancake recipes because there’s cocoa “and powdered sugar!” in the batter. In Eddie’s laugh at their bickering. In Buck’s raised eyebrow at Eddie, his shrug silently communicating, how can you argue with that? In the way Eddie shakes his head, and says “sucker.”
Eddie from several years ago- hell, from several months ago- would have locked this revelation deep, deep down and ignored it for the rest of his life. When he thinks about it, that’s probably what he’d been doing until now. Current Eddie, though, welcomes this feeling. He welcomes the warmth that comes with finally seeing what’s been there all along. As Buck keeps making sure Eddie’s still in the kitchen with them, trying to include him in the process (to Chris’s dismay), he thinks that Buck feels it too. He wonders for how long.
Eddie debates what to do about this revelation as they eat. He and Buck share amused eye contact as Chris chews and seems to realize the powdered sugar made little difference to any other pancake recipe. They know he’ll never admit it, though.
Eddie clears the table as Chris escapes to the video games in his bedroom. Buck begins to wash dishes, but Eddie gently touches his forearm. When Buck looks at him, he shakes his head. “Those can wait,” he says. “Let’s finish that documentary from last night.”
Buck’s eyebrows meet in the middle of his face. “Really?” he asks, rinsing a soapy pan and placing it on the rack.
“Why not? I wanna know more about the birds,” he tips his head towards the couch, wrapping his fingers around Buck’s arm and pulling lightly.
Buck, still confused but not one to argue, obliges. Eddie brings their coffees to the couch, sitting a little closer than usual, hoping that Buck can’t sense the nerves that Eddie feels in his stomach.
“Since when are you so interested in birds?” Buck questions.
Eddie shrugs, not looking at him. He finds the documentary, and continues it from where they left off. That soothing voice comes through the speakers again. “-but the male birds display all the signs of love that a male and female pair would.”
Eddie sets his coffee down on the table in front of them, and gestures for Buck to pass him his cup, too. When he sits back, he’s closer to Buck again. He half-listens to the TV as he debates what to do next. As the screen seems to display a montage of loving bird behaviors, Eddie lets his fingers drift back to Buck’s arm. The touch is gentle, tentative. When Buck looks at him, Eddie is already looking back. He softly glides his fingers back and forth as he builds the courage to move them to his hand. Because he knows his best friend so well, Eddie can see the fear in Buck’s eyes. Fear of hope. He can sense it in the way Buck’s breathing picks up slightly. It gives him the courage to bring his hand down to Buck’s. Buck’s fingers clasp in between Eddie’s almost instinctively, as if their palms carry magnets.
Eddie smiles, still looking into Buck’s eyes. “You’re my albatross, whatever that means,” Eddie jokes.
Buck exhales, smiling, but Eddie can sense that he’s holding back. So, feeling courageous enough for both of them, he sits up straighter and reaches for Buck’s other hand. “Seriously, Buck. When you came into my life, I had no idea you were exactly what- exactly who I needed,” Buck’s head dips, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Eddie ducks to meet his eyes again. “You took us in like it was nothing. Like it’s just something you do every day. I guess, in a way, it is. You are the most selfless, most caring, most loving person I know. I don’t know how I got so lucky. Everyday I’m beyond thankful that I have you. That Chris has you. You- you’re everything, Evan,” he squeezes Buck’s fingers.
“Eddie, I-” he pauses, closing his glossy eyes.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Eddie interrupts. “I just wanted you to know.” He starts to pull his hands away, but Buck pulls back. Stops him.
“I have loved you since the day we met,” Buck says.
“I know,” Eddie jokes, because if he doesn’t laugh he might cry.
Buck laughs too. Eddie removes one hand from Buck’s and brings it up to caress his cheek. Buck closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “I love you, too. Even if I didn’t realize what it was until now.”
“I had thought,” Buck starts. “Maybe. But I didn’t want to let myself hope. I was worried I’d ruin our family,” he admits.
Eddie leans towards him, the hand on his cheek sliding to the back of his neck. “There is nothing you could do,” Eddie states, voice full of conviction. “That would change how I feel about you, or your place in our lives.”
Buck nods, bringing his forehead down to meet Eddie’s. They inhale at the same time, eyes closed. Eddie nudges his head forward, softly bumping his nose against Buck’s. Buck matches the movement. They tilt their heads so their lips can meet. Buck’s lips are soft against Eddie’s, faintly chocolatey from their pancakes. Eddie scoots forward, moving the hand on Buck’s neck into his hair, bringing the other to his lower back. Buck’s hands move to either side of Eddie’s waist as the kiss deepens. Eddie scoots even closer, on the verge of climbing into Buck’s lap if it means he can have more contact with his body.
“Ewww,” they hear, which causes both men to pull away abruptly, wide-eyed.
“Chris,” Eddie says, nervously, turning to face his son. Buck turns, too, cheeks nearly red. He squeezes his hands together.
“Oh, relax, nasties,” Chris retorts. “I don’t care,” he says, entering the kitchen. “Just don’t get grosser than that!” he yells from the other room. As he passes them on his way back to his room, he stops and faces them again. Eddie braces himself. Chris unscrews the lid of his Gatorade, smirking. “And congratulations,” he says, taking a sip and then making his exit.
When they hear his door close, Eddie and Buck face each other, looking bewildered. Eddie snorts, which causes Buck to smirk, and then the two are fully laughing. Eddie leans his head on Buck’s shoulder and places his hand on Buck’s thigh, squeezing it gently. Buck kisses the top of his head. “I’ll love you forever,” Eddie whispers, confidently, sitting back up so he can look back into his best friend’s eyes.
Buck leans forward and kisses Eddie softly. Eddie holds Buck’s face in his hand and returns the kiss, then kisses him once more for good measure. Buck pulls away, smiling, but his eyebrows are pulled together again. “Birds? Really?”
Eddie leans back, laughing. “I know, ridiculous.”
“I don’t know about that,” Buck starts.
“Please tell me we can come up with a different story to tell the team,” Eddie pleads.
“Sure,” Buck smirks, leaning in to kiss him again.