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I'd rather the wound than have you removed. Enough rotting for two. Killing me, keeping me high.
Evan Buckley doesn’t consider himself an overly clingy person. If you asked his friends, they’d disagree. But he knows he’s right. He is not clingy, he just loves unashamedly. He loves purely, and strongly. He likes to spend time with the people he cares about, he likes to help them, to hold them close, to buy them things that will make them happy. That’s not being clingy. He knows this. But he doesn’t mind what others think. They can think he’s clingy, it doesn’t impact him negatively. In fact, it's kind of the opposite. People are more willing to let him show his love towards them when they feel like they’re doing Buck a favour by it, feeding his craving for emotional connection. They aren’t entirely wrong with that one, they are filling his need for emotional connection – It’s just not because he’s clingy.
Anyway, Evan Buckley doesn’t consider himself clingy, just loving. A loving person who likes to surround himself with the people he cares about. Unfortunately, this doesn’t explain his reaction to Eddie announcing his move to Texas.
It’s not like Buck has never been left before. He has. Repeatedly. By the people he cared about most. He knows what it feels like to watch someone who you love with your entire being walk away without any idea as to when you’ll see them again, if you even will. He watched Maddie leave, even though that wasn’t her fault. She was doing what she had to to survive. He will never ever blame her for that. But he felt like a seven year old again. Alone, crying, begging for his big sister. Begging for the love and affection she showed him, the care she rubbed into his shoulders and the affection she whispered into his hair. Then he watched Abby leave. She walked through those glass doors and it felt like the end of the only real thing he ever had. It wasn’t her fault. Her mother died, and she needed to go. She explained it to him, and he understood. But it hurt.She was the first person to actively choose him, to go out of their way because they wanted him. He loved Maddie, more than he could possibly describe, and nothing would ever change that. But Abby was a different kind of love. It wasn’t familial. She never had to pick him, but she did anyway, and then she walked away from him. He didn’t blame her, but something in him broke that day and he hasn’t been the same.
And then there was Eddie. His best friend. His partner. His person. He stupidly let himself fall for him. He knew it was never an option, that Eddie would never be his in the way Buck wanted him to be. But he was okay with that. He saw Eddie as his family, something more than anyone had ever been to him and, secretly, he saw Chris as his son too. He watched the boy grow up, he brushed him off when he fell, he helped him do school assignments, he dried his tears when everything was just too much for him. He doesn’t remember a time without the boy, and he would never even entertain the idea of not having him in his life. He would do anything for the boy. He would swap places with Prometheus if it meant he could make Christopher smile. He would spend eternity suffering through the endless pecks of the eagle, his liver being consumed only to grow back again and for the cycle to repeat the next day. Eddie, too. Buck doesn’t think there’s anything anyone could suggest that he wouldn’t do if it meant his boys would feel joy. He loved them. He loved them in a way he never thought he'd be able to love anyone.
And then Chris left and Buck felt like he was being torn apart. And then Eddie was suffering and Buck couldn’t fix it. He was having his family ripped from him again and there was nothing he could do to help them. He imagined himself grabbing them both and wrapping them in string, connecting them together. He imagined himself stopping Eddie’s parents, telling Chris to stay at his place to cool off, that he could have the entire loft if that’s what he needed. And in the deep, selfish parts of his mind he imagined himself screaming. He imagined falling to his knees, crying and grabbing their hands. He imagined begging for an answer. “Why? Why me? Why? What did I do? Please, we had something, we had a family. Don’t you want that? Can’t you see we could be a family?” He would plead. And in his mind his boys would come back. They would stay together. They’d be a unit. But then he’d be faced with reality. He would never do that. He would never put himself above the needs of either of them, he would never beg them to do something against their will because of what he wanted, because he had unwillingly placed them into roles in his life where they don’t fit. They were their own people. They needed to make decisions for themselves, and Buck knew this. But it didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of him that wanted to glue them to the couch.
After Chris left, Eddie was a mess. Buck tried to reassure him, to tell him that he was not a bad father. He was not a bad man. He was simply a person who made a mistake, like all people do. That he went through something traumatic, he watched the woman he loved die. The woman he created life with. He watched as the life drained out of her and there was nothing he could do. And then he saw a way for her to finally get closure. And he was pushed, unfairly, until he snapped. That he couldn’t have known Chris would see, and, he didn’t do it intentionally, did he? He didn’t ask for Kim to come over, he didn’t wait until Chris would be home and introduce them. It was all a mess, and, yes, he contributed to it, but that didn’t mean he was completely to blame and it doesn’t negate all the good he had done, all the good parenting he was doing. Buck told Eddie all of this countless times. He would repeat it to him when he broke down in front of him. He would reassure him that he was a good dad. He was a loving, caring father who only wants what’s best for his son. But Buck could tell Eddie was still blaming himself. He missed so much of Chris’ life when he was a baby, he already lost years of watching the one person he loved most in the world grow up. And when he came back he didn’t know who Eddie was. And that was Eddie’s fault. He willingly enlisted. Twice. And his son grew up without him. Now, it’s happening again, now, it’s Eddie’s fault, again.
Buck knew something was coming. Eddie was happier. He was doing things to make him happy. He was intentionally looking for joy. Everything was getting a bit brighter, and day by day Buck convinced himself that he was closer to getting both of his boys back, that Chris would move home and they could be together again. He thought he would be happy again. Foolishly.
When Eddie told him about moving to texas because he was done missing out on his child growing up without him, Buck felt that same break as Abby, only this time it was so much worse. This time someone had ripped into him and taken his heart. He was forced to watch as they threw it in front of him and it shattered like porcelain. He tried to be helpful, a good friend. He forced on a smile and offered to look for houses with him because “Honestly Eddie, look around. Your living room changes every second day. You’re too indecisive to do this alone.” And he pretended that his heart remained beating, not on the kitchen floor, invisible, and waiting to be swept up.
And Buck secretly held onto the hope that Eddie would stay. He hoped that Eddie would stay because this is where he belongs. And not because Buck was here. Sure, that was definitely an incentive he had in mind, but Eddie deserved to do something for himself. He hated Texas, he hated who he was in Texas. He has complained to Buck about it many times, spoken about how much he loves LA, about how living here had made him a better person, freed him from who he felt like he had to be. But he didn’t. Buck helped Eddie pack his life into boxes and suitcases. He was going to rent for the first few months until he could find a permanent place to stay, so he was leaving all his furniture in LA until then.
Buck drives Eddie to the airport on the day of his flight. Buck offered, of course. He wanted to. Even though this was hurting him, he wanted to. He wanted to do something for Eddie, he didn’t know if he’d get the chance to again. So, he drives Eddie to the airport. He grabs Eddie’s bags from the back of the Jeep and hands them to him. They hug, and Eddie reassures him that they will “Stay in touch. You’re my best friend. I’m moving, but I’m not leaving.” He knows about Buck’s fear of abandonment. He knows everything about Buck. But then he smiles, pats him on the shoulder, and turns.
He stands behind glass doors. He watches as Eddie walks through and God, it feels so much worse than Abby. He loved Abby, but he loves Eddie. They’re not comparable. Buck would never speak again if it meant the last words he said were to Eddie. And then Eddie turns and hope flickers in Buck’s chest. He wants him to come back, to tell Buck he made a mistake, that Chris should come home rather than him moving to a place which never felt like his. He wishes Eddie would run to him in a big romantic gesture. That they would meet in the middle and kiss and just know that this is what the poets were writing about, this is why humans were made to experience the kind of love Buck has found with Eddie. He wants Eddie to tell him to come with him, to move to Texas so they could be a family together again. But he does none of that. He offers a small smile, turns around again, and continues walking away.
Buck wonders if the people around him can see him breaking. If they can see the other half of his soul walking away from him. If they can see how badly he wants to run after him, to tell him to stay, to tell him to take Buck with him. If they can see how his resolve is cracking, how his throat is growing tight and his vision is getting blurry. Buck doesn’t know what to do so he turns around, and he walks away.
He gets back in his Jeep and begins the drive home in silence. His family is gone. His family, his people, are gone. For good. They’ve moved to another state, they will find someone, a nice girl with a beautiful smile, and they will become a real family. Eddie will love her the way Buck loves him. He doesn’t blame Eddie. He would never blame Eddie. Chris comes first, for both of them, but that doesn't mean he can’t be upset that he’s the one alone.
He arrives at Eddie’s house, walks inside, and just sits on the floor. It feels too cold, too quiet, too empty. There are boxes of books ready to be shipped, an ungodly amount of lamps disassembled and wrapped in bubble wrap. Everything’s changing. Again. And it’s out of his control. And he can’t stop it. And he wants to stop it, so desperately, but he wants his boys to be happy more. And if this is what makes them happy then he would never stand in the way of that. So instead, he sits on Eddie’s floor and thinks.
He thinks about how he would fly to Texas to be with his family. He would sit on an island crafting wings of feathers and wax. He would put them on and he would fly into the Texan sun for a chance to fall near them, to be close to them for the rest of his life. It’s probably bad to be thinking this way. Buck should probably be focusing on the family he has remaining in LA. But it’s different. There’s BobbyAndAthena, HenAndKaren, even MaddieAndChimney. And it used to be BuckAndEddie. He was finally part of a duo, he felt like he found someone to be his, even if they didn’t feel the same, and now it's simply Buck. BobbyAndAthena, HenAndKaren, MaddieAndChimney, and Buck. Again. Always.
Buck knows he is not the easiest to love. That he can be full on and overwhelming and stressful. But it didn’t bother Eddie. Sure, they had their fair share of fights, but everyone did. That was normal. He knows that Eddie loved him. Maybe not romantically, maybe not as deeply as Buck loved Eddie, but he knows love was there all the same. He could see it in his eyes. He could hear it in the way he told Buck to continue his rambling. He knows there is love in their relationship. He never doubted Eddie’s care for him. Buck knows that Eddie is not gone forever, that they will stay in touch, but that doesn’t stop the burning in his chest.
Each day that Eddie is gone, Buck feels himself rotting away. He can feel himself molding and spoiling. He is draining of colour and life. No one else can see it. He doesn’t think so, anyway. He’s trying his best to hide it. He sends practised smiles and recounts reused facts. He’s normal. He’s Buck. Just Buck.
Eddie messages him multiple times every day. He checks in and he asks for any new information Buck has researched. He asks about the others and any calls they’ve done, even the boring ones. He tells him about Christopher. They’re talking. Chris was upset he moved to Texas. He blew up and asked him why he “wouldn’t just talk to me, God, Dad! For once just talk to me!” Eddie let him yell. Sometimes you need to yell. Chris told him that he should be in California, that’s where his friends are, his school, he doesn’t want to be in Texas forever. Eddie told Buck that they might be moving back. Buck doesn’t let himself get his hopes up. He loves Eddie. He loves Chris. More than anything. But he can’t let himself hope anymore. Hope for a family, hope to be chosen.
Eddie comes out to Buck over text during hour 22 of a 24 hour shift. He says that he had a conversation with Chris, one that was very eye opening, and that he realised he’s gay. Buck doesn't let himself feel hope at that. Even though someone is attracted to your gender, that doesn’t mean they’re attracted to you. He knows this. Buck sends supportive messages back. A series of “I’m proud of you.” and “Thank you for telling me.” Eddie sends him a pink heart emoji back with a promise to call when Buck’s off shift.
Four hours later when Buck is back at Eddie’s house with a cup of coffee, as promised, they call. Buck is pleasantly surprised to see two faces squished onto screen instead of just one. He talks animatedly with Chris for a while and Chris explains that while he and his dad are doing better, they’ve decided they would probably benefit from family counselling because there seems to be a lot that goes unsaid between them when there shouldn't be. Eddie watches with a fond smile, until he turns to his son and asks “Do you want to tell him?”
Chris visibly brightens with that and nods affirmatively before turning back to Buck and looking as directly into his eyes that a screen would allow. “Buck, we’re coming home!”
Bucks ears ring at that. He listens as Chris rambles about how he “hates it in Texas! It’s so hot here, hotter than California, and the people aren’t as fun as back home, and I don’t even know anywhere to hang out with my friends who, by the way, are all back in LA! I mean, how would that even work? Would we meet in the middle?” He listens as Chris talks about how they’re planning to come home soon, but Eddie said they had to sort some things out first, so it should be soon, but can't be tomorrow. Buck doesn’t let himself hope at that.
Three weeks later, Buck finds himself driving back to the airport. He’s dressed in a suit with sunglasses and has a printed sign which reads ‘Diaz’ He stands at the arrivals and keeps his expression flat. When Chris rounds the corner with Eddie trailing closely behind, however, that expression cracks. He smiles and waits until they get close enough to see him when Chris bursts out in laughter—the intended reaction, by the way—before he jogs towards them and gives Chris a tight hug. He only gets a small protest, so he counts that as a win. And then he faces Eddie and meets his eyes, Eddie smiles, the same smile that he had when he was leaving, except this time it seems looser, realer. Buck doesn’t really know if Eddie is still as comfortable with him as when he left so he just smiles in response. Eddie grabs him and pulls him into a hug though and Buck breathes Eddie in, indulging in his selfishness for just a moment.
And then Eddie pulls away and Buck is already missing the warmth of his body when he says “Well, I don't know about you but I could definitely eat right now.” And so Buck drives them to a diner. They all get burgers because it feels like a day where they should drown themselves in grease. Buck and Chris both get a chocolate milkshake, and Eddie gets orange juice. They talk and fill each other in on their lives as they sit in a booth which is slightly too big for them. Buck lets himself live in this moment. It’s his family. His people. And they came back. They chose to come back. They chose to include him in their lives. They didn’t have to, but they did.
Eventually, when they’re well and truly fed, they all load back into the Jeep and Buck drives them back to Eddie’s house. On the drive he talks to Eddie about how he is looking for new apartments since he sold his loft, and how he’s going to crash with Maddie until he finds somewhere so Eddie and Chris can have their own space. Eddie only hums in response whereas Chris chimes in from the backseat “We like you in our space, Buck.” And Buck said if that didn’t patch up something inside of him, he would be lying.
Buck helps carry the bags inside when they arrive home, and goes with Chris to his bedroom where he flops on his bed with a very graceful “Ugh! Yes.” And Buck's heart soars. Chris is here. Chris is in front of him. Chris is back.
“I’m glad you’re here, buddy.” Maybe he’s too old for Buck to be calling him ‘buddy’ now, but he doesn’t care. And it doesn’t seem like Chris does at the moment either.
“I’m glad you’re here too Buck. You know,” Chris looks very empathetically at Buck, “I really missed you. I’m happy to be home.”
Buck smiles and hugs him for the second time that day. This time it goes without protest, no audience to pretend in front of. Buck knows Chris likes hugging. He was always a very touchy kid. Unfortunately, this does not make him immune to the teenage attitude that comes with public displays of affection. “I’m going to go check in with your Dad.” Chris just nods, already engrossed in his phone, fingers tapping away rapidly.
Buck walks back out and into the kitchen where Eddie is… just standing there? Buck calls his attention and asks if he is okay. Eddie looks indecisive for a moment until he breathes in and seems to come to a decision. He walks towards Buck and stops a few steps away, staring him in the eyes when he says “I love you.”
Buck ignores the feeling of hope blossoming in his chest. He fakes a smile and manages a “Love you too, man.”
But then Eddie is shaking his head and muttering “No, no. I mean I love you.” And then he’s closing the space between them and connecting their lips. And Buck is frozen. Eddie is kissing him and Buck is frozen. Eddie steps back, his hands on either side of Buck’s face, and searches the other man’s face with concerned filled eyes.
And Buck cries. He couldn’t tell you why, but he cries. He cries so hard he’s struggling to breathe. And Eddie’s hands are falling from his face, and apologies are flying from his lips. And Buck cries. He grabs Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug and cries into him. Eddie stands frozen for a few moments before his arms wrap around Buck and he’s whispering soothing things in his ears and, god, it's everything Buck wants. It's here, in front of him, in his arms, and it's happening to him. Eddie loves him. Eddie wants him. Eddie is choosing him. And Buck is crying and wetting Eddie’s chest and probably ruining his shirt with snot, which definitely is not attractive, but Buck can’t find it in himself to care because Eddie loves him. And he hasn’t said it back. Buck peels himself off Eddie and tries to calm his breathing and settles his tears enough to push out “I love you. I love you so much Eddie.” And then he’s being pulled back into Eddie and his grip is more sure on Buck now. He holds him tight and whispers ‘I love you’s into Buck’s hair. And Buck believes him. Buck allows himself to be selfish and hold onto the man who loves him.