Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The low flashing glow of the TV flickered to the judgmental “are you still watching screen,” and Eddie snorted awake, his body jerking to keep himself from falling off of his couch. Grunting, he swung his legs to the ground and swiped around blindly for his phone. The too-bright glare of the screen showed that it was nearly eleven. The 118 had come off shift hours before, and Eddie had opted out of hanging out, exhausted from packing and trying to keep track of everything needed for the move. His house was mostly packed, furniture stacked against the wall awaiting the movers he’d hired to load the Pod he’d reserved. The 118 had offered, but they were on shift on the day he’d arranged to move, with the exception of Buck, who’d decided to send him off. Eddie managed to trip over two separate boxes on the way to the bathroom when he stumbled to a stop at the sound of a thump against the door. On alert, he grabbed a curtain rod leaning against the wall, muscles thrumming with a sudden onslaught of adrenaline. He strode towards the door, aiming to position his body behind it, when the doorknob rattled and a familiar voice startled him into freezing. Confused, Eddie unlocked the door and it swung open to reveal a very drunk Buck and a man Eddie did not know.

“Listen, man, I can’t just let you break into somebody's house. You gotta leave or I’m-” the man cut his sentence short, seeing Eddie in the doorway.

“No need, it’s fine,” Eddie stated, without looking the man in the eye. Instead he was assessing Buck, trying to figure out why the other man, who was clearly a rideshare driver, thought Buck was breaking in.

“Uh, um, Are you- dude you don’t have to hit him,” the now-panicked man blurted out. Eddie turned his gaze away from where Buck had smooshed his face against the side of the house, keys loosely hanging from his hand, and looked at the driver for the first time. He was young, maybe twenty, and was obviously scared shitless. Eddie blinked and looked down at himself, then laughed. He was shirtless, holding a curtain rod in one hand and his phone in the other. Smiling, he turned around and set the rod back in the house, just inside the doorframe.

“Oh, sorry man. Not hitting him. Just, uh, thought he was breaking in.” Buck snorted and both men looked at him as he continued to attempt to meld into the siding of Eddie’s house.

“Is he breaking in?”

“Nah, he’s got a key,” Eddie explained, grabbing the keys from Buck’s hand. Buck jerked to attention.

“Hey, that’s mine,” he snapped, shifting his weight away from the wall as he attempted to retrieve the keys back from Eddie’s grasp. The movement was too much for Buck’s barely-there balance, and he tottered forward, straight into Eddie’s arms. Eddie caught him and leaned his body back towards the wall.

“Technically, they’re mine,” Eddie retorted.

“Am not yours,” Buck muttered. The driver looked between the two men, confused.

“Listen, if he’s not, uh, yours or whatever, we can just call the cops. He told me to bring him here though - I didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to-,” he started, before Eddie interrupted.

“No, not…mine - sorry dude, I promise he’s fine. No need for the police, and I’m not gonna hit him,” he explained, but was cut off by Buck snorting.

“Go for the title,” Buck muttered to himself sarcastically. The driver's eyebrows furrowed deeper and Eddie tutted.

“Not gonna take you while you’re this far gone bud,” Eddie snarked.

“Dude, do you know him or not,” the driver asked, impatient. He glanced down at his phone.

“Where’d you pick him up from?” Eddie countered, instead of answering his question, his hand held out towards Buck, as if to steady him if he fell again.

“I’m not answering that,” snapped the driver.

“No, I mean, you don’t have to, just, how long was the drive?” Eddie replied.

“I dunno, like, twenty minutes,” the driver answered, confused.

“WeHo, then,” Eddie explained. “You picked him up outside some seedy club in WeHo, where he’s probably been since we got off shift, and he told you at least a dozen facts about oarfish, because that’s been his hyperfocus since they found one off the coast a while ago,” Eddie listed off, ignoring the half of Buck’s scowl he could see, the other half obscured by the siding where he’d mashed his face.

“Dude, how did you know that?” asked the driver. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“His name is Evan but he told you to call him Buck. We work together, and he has a key to my house,” he explained, holding up the correct key from the keychain he’d confiscated from Buck. “He was just too drunk to find it in the dark,” Eddie continued. The driver nodded now, more confident that he was not leaving his fare to be brained with a curtain rod by some random shirtless guy.

“Shuddup,” muttered Buck. Both men turned towards him.

“Get in the house, Buck,” Eddie ordered, putting a hand on his shoulder and trying to guide him through the open door.

“Can’t tell me what to do,” he replied petulantly, but stumbled his way through the door frame. Eddie followed him. Buck tripped over no less than three boxes on his way to the couch, then threw himself into the same spot Eddie had occupied minutes before.

Eddie turned to close the door, but was stopped by the driver.

“Hey, uh, he left this in the car,” the driver stated, waving a foil-wrapped lump at Eddie. “It feels like bread,” he continued, as Eddie chuckled to himself, taking the loaf and cradling it under his arm.

“Of course he did,” he muttered under his breath.

“Who brings bread to a club?” asked the driver. Eddie shrugged.

“That’s just Buck,” he explained, as he waved off the younger man and stepped back into the apartment. The driver looked at him, incredulous, before turning back to his car. Eddie shut the door and paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath before he had to turn around and face a drunk, belligerent, bread-bearing Buck. A thump startled him, and he whipped around to find Buck half on the couch, with one foot on the floor and his face pressed into the cushions, his phone on the ground beside him. Eddie shook his head and placed the loaf on a stack of boxes beside him.

“How long were you there?” he asked the lump on his couch, flicking a light on before approaching him. Buck groaned and burrowed deeper into the cushions to avoid the sudden brightness.

“Dunno,” he grated out, waving one hand in Eddie’s direction. “A while,” he continued. “Long enough. Why isn’t it enough yet?” he asked, turning his face away from the cushion long enough to squint up towards Eddie.

“Enough what?” Eddie asked, confused.

“Enough dicks,” Buck muttered, nonchalant. Eddie choked on his own spit.

“What?” he sputtered.

“Enough dicks to forget,” Buck repeated. “Tommy said-”

“I, uh. I don’t think that’s what he meant, bud,” Eddie stuttered, cheeks flushed, a twinge of jealousy twisting in his stomach. He gritted his teeth and shoved the feeling back into the box it belonged in, and cleared his throat. “Pretty sure he wouldn’t want you going Buck 1.0 through WeHo and showing up half-dead on my doorstep before the bars are even closed,” he continued. This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Buck peeled his body away from the cushions into a mostly upright position and glared at Eddie.

“Why do you care?” he spit out. “I’m not yours,” he parroted, sarcastically, but he didn’t turn his face away from Eddie before the other man could see the tell-tale glassiness in his eyes.

“What - that’s not… Buck, you know what I meant,” Eddie explained, ignoring the scoff Buck retorted at his statement. Eddie took a deep breath. “Listen, man, Tommy will come around,” he tried to soothe his friend.

“I don’t care about Tommy, Eddie,” Buck sneered back, the effect mostly lost by his almost comical position on the couch.

“I-you don’t? But you… you baked a loaf,” he replied, confused. Everyone thought that Buck was finally over Tommy, but then, suddenly, he’d started baking again a few weeks back. “And you…” He’d assumed all the sleeping around and loaf baking was Buck’s way of distracting himself from the break-up, even though it had been months. But saying that out loud after already calling him out for being Buck 1.0 (Buck 1.1?) seemed a bit harsh.

“Nope. Don’t care. I baked a, a loaf because I’m sad okay!? See?” He laughed self-deprecatingly, harshly wiping the tears that had begun to fall with the backs of his hands. “You’re leaving me and I’m allowed to be sad, and all the dicks aren’t distracting enough anymore” Buck mumbled. Eddie blinked in surprise, guilt churning in his chest. Buck knew why he had to go. Maybe if he could get Buck to focus on something else, he’d quit talking about sleeping with other people.

“You know I have to go to Chris. And you’re my best friend. That’s not going to change. I’m going to move there for a while, I’ll bring Chris back to visit with me, and we’ll figure it out from there,” he tried to explain, but Buck just shook his head and threw himself back into the cushions, curled on his side, face pressed in to the couch as far as he could get, leaving his feet dangling off the edge.

“You know I have to go to Chris,” Eddie repeated, but shook his head to himself. He knew better than to use logic on a drunk Buck, especially an angry and hurt drunk Buck. Buck didn’t reply, and his breathing seemed to level out. Eddie shrugged, slipped Buck’s shoes off his feet and set them down beside the couch before heading into the kitchen. He rummaged around in a box, unearthing a granola bar, grabbed a bottle of water and some Gatorade, and arranged his offerings on the side table near Buck’s head, along with his phone, which he retrieved from the floor.

“I’m coming back, you know,” he said softly, hoping that if he said the words out loud they would be true. He wasn’t sure when, but he knew he would try, if he could convince Chris. Eddie turned away from the couch and headed towards the hallway, but stumbled on his own feet when he heard Buck mutter from behind him.

“No you won't. Nobody ever comes back,” his voice wobbled. “Everybody I fall in love with leaves. Even you. And they never come back.”

Eddie stood frozen, his body twisted awkwardly where he’d half turned back towards the couch. He stayed silent, unsure if he’d heard that correctly, until he noticed Buck’s hand dangling loosely against his side, his breaths even as his chest rose up and down. Eddie straightened out his body and watched Buck sleep, boxes and boxes of feelings he’d locked away tumbling open in his mind, an echo of the living room around him.

Chapter Text

“Whatever, Abuela,” Chris muttered under his breath as he grabbed his backpack off of the hook near the door.

“What was that?!” Helena’s sharp voice demanded, as he maneuvered his way out the front door and down the makeshift ramp leading down the porch  steps. This ramp wasn’t the easiest to maneuver, rubber and intended for wheelchairs, but he managed just fine, thank you very much. The first thing Helena and Ramon had done when Chris arrived was pull out a wheelchair, which had started the first of many long, pointless arguments that went nowhere and left Chris feeling frayed. 

“Nothing Abuela”, he called back, walking as fast as he could towards the bus waiting for him. The wheelchair ramp was down, and he begrudgingly stepped on the platform, handed his crutches to the driver, Jimmy, waiting within the doorframe, and took the arm of Gail, the aid standing on the platform. This stupid protocol was bickered about a dozen times, but no one would give in. Chris explained over and over that he could manage the stairs on most days, if he went slowly and someone stood behind him, but this was, apparently, a “liability”, a word Chris heard at least three times a week since he’d arrived. 

“Morning Chris,” Gail chirped, all sunshine and smiles, but Chris knew her sweet grandma persona was a cover for a stubborn old lady who would rat him out to Abuela in a second if he showed even a hint of an attitude. 

“Good morning Ms. Gail,” Chris droned obediently, his practiced line in this silly play he’d accidentally forced himself to participate in. Chris was going mad, assigned the part of the poor, disabled boy having been abandoned by his dead mother and neglected by his scandal of a father. No matter what he tried to say, this story had been circulated well before he started school in El Paso. Everyone either ignored him or pitied him, with Jimmy and Linda solidly on the “pity” side of the spectrum. Gail guided him in the door to the back of the bus, Jimmy handed him his crutches, and Chris made his way to the middle seat on the left, ignoring Linda’s chatter in the background. 

His only companions were two elementary school students, one with a wheelchair, the other so heavily medicated he usually looked like a zombie. Helena refused to take time out of her schedule to drive Chris to school every day, and the school refused to let him ride the normal bus, saying he was, of course, a liability. 

Chris rode in silence, bouncing with the bumps in the road and seething inside. Helena had started to talk about the holidays this past weekend, and shut down any attempts Chris made to say he wanted to go back to California for Thanksgiving, and maybe stay there afterwards. He’d wanted to go back before school started, but Helena didn’t allow him to have a phone, only allowed him to call his father while she was in the room and interrupted every single conversation he had. He’d barely spoken to his dad since coming home because Helena was so overbearing. He’d quit trying to talk at all, offering one word answers Helena couldn’t disagree with. 

He knew his dad tried to speak over her, tried to tell her to leave the room, and was getting increasingly angry, but so far he’d not managed to get much of a word in either. Chris had tried to blurt out “I want to come home” before she could interrupt during their last call, but she’d anticipated it and dropped the pot she’d been washing to drown him out. Afterwards he’d had to sit through another long lecture about all the ways his father had failed as a kid, then a teenager, then an adult, and as a dad, which he’d heard almost daily since he’d arrived. He’d given up on arguing. 

He was still mad at his dad, but he was also confused about everything that had happened. Regardless, he was ready to go home, and had finally come up with a plan. Chris had, after months of negotiating, gotten his grandparents  to agree to let him play video games on his Switch for an hour on the weekend, starting next Saturday. Luckily they knew nothing about the system, and it should be easy enough to hook it up to WiFi, login, message Denny, and tell him to tell his moms to tell his dad to come get him. That would be easier than stealing a phone, which he’d tried and failed several times in the last weeks. 

Chris was done. The school wouldn’t let him go on field trips unless Helena went, which she refused. He couldn’t participate in any sort of extracurriculars, because it would clash with the bus schedule and Helena wouldn’t come get him. He couldn’t even get to the one class that was upstairs on time, because they refused to store the elevator key anywhere but the front office, which was on the opposite side of the school. Chris had learned his lesson about pushing himself too far, but never in his life had his disability felt so much like a…disability. At home he was accommodated, but included, and everything he wanted to do was made accessible. Here, he was just, well, a liability.

“Chris dear, we’re here,” Gail cooed, handing him her arm. Chris took her arm, stumbled towards the door, and silently counted the days until he could enact his escape plan. 

—-

The sun was bright. Too bright. Buck opened one eye to see why he was suddenly being baked alive, and closed it again immediately. Eddie’s. He’d gone to Eddie’s, and slept in his curtainless living room. Curtainless, because Eddie was leaving. Buck curled tighter into himself, his stomach churning, bladder screaming, chest aching in misery. Eventually his bladder won, and he stumbled his way to the bathroom. On his way out, he noticed that Eddie's bedroom door was open, the room empty, which was confusing; he hadn’t noticed the other man in the living room or kitchen. Rubbing his face and walking gingerly, Buck made his way back to the couch and grabbed his phone, expecting to see a message from Eddie saying he’d gone to grab something. Other than a few messages from the 118 chat and one from Maddie asking him about their lunch date later that week, there was nothing clarifying. Frowning, he sent off a quick text asking Eddie where he was, then shoved his phone in his pocket. A granola bar, a bottle of Gatorade, and some water sat on the table next to the couch and Buck gratefully twisted open the cap on the Gatorade, drinking a few tentative sips. He sat there for a few minutes, until he was sure he wouldn’t be decorating Eddie’s boxes with the contents of his stomach, then slowly made his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. 

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself. He’d helped Eddie empty the fridge two days ago. Rolling his eyes at himself, he shuffled back to the couch and leaned back, trying to decide what to have delivered before the movers and Eddie showed up. Before he could place his order, the night caught up to him, and he dozed off, phone falling to rest on his chest. 

Buck snorted to consciousness hours later, blinking confused at his phone. It was well after when the movers should have shown up, but he was sure if they’d knocked or rang the bell he would have heard it. Swiping through his apps, he noted a message from Eddie an hour ago saying he’d be back soon, but there was no mention of the movers being cancelled, and Eddie still wasn’t home. Trepidation churned in his chest and he pulled up Life 360, his jaw dropping to see that Eddie was in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico. He’d left without saying goodbye. 

Blinking back the tears that filled his eyes, he watched as the icon on his screen travelled further away. What had he said last night? Had he really messed up this badly? Buck trembled, watching the screen until it faded to black. He tossed the phone towards the other side of the couch, and got up paced between the boxes. Eddie had left. Eddie had left him. Eddie had left him without saying goodbye. Eddie left Buck to arrange for his things to be dragged to Texas. Was this some sort of punishment for something he’d said? Buck took a shuddering breath. What had he said to make Eddie leave like this, so abruptly? They were supposed to have a goodbye party tonight, before the Pod was picked up tomorrow. Whatever it he’d said, he probably deserved a little physical labor, and he’d obviously screwed up enough already. Shoving his emotions aside, he grabbed the key to the padlock for the Pod, grabbed a suitcase, and headed towards the driveway to start loading up. It’s the least he could do. 

—- 

The loaf sat in the passenger seat of his truck, judging him. Eddie tried to avoid thinking about it, but he couldn’t quit staring at it out of the corner of his eye. He kept repeating everything Buck had said, over and over. The first three hours passed in a moment, Buck’s voice a soundtrack in his head. Eddie didn't realize he needed to stop until he noticed himself veering toward the center line. He’d pulled over at some dirt track of a truck stop and slept for a couple of hours, waking up with a jolt at the sound of a truck door slamming nearby. The first thing he saw when he focused his vision was the loaf, right where he’d placed it when he started driving. Eddie stared at it, stomach twisting. He refused to eat the loaf. He’d moved it to the back seat, but then he felt guilty at not facing the consequences of his actions, so he moved it back to the front, so it could continue to judge him.

Eddie snuck another glance to his right. It still sat there, untouched. 

The drive was so easy that Eddie didn’t bother turning on his GPS until he’d reached Phoenix, cursing under his breath at the morning traffic. The short nap at the barely-there truck stop along I-10 a few hours ago hadn’t scratched the surface of his exhaustion, and by now he was running on caffeine and adrenaline. The hour of GPS had killed his battery, but he hadn’t noticed until he was halfway to Tucson. Buck had told him a dozen times to replace the fraying charger in his truck. That was only one of many things he should have listened to Buck about, apparently. Eddie had spent most of the past hours going over every interaction he’d had with Buck, both recently and in the past several years. How long had Buck felt like…that? 

“Everybody I fall in love with leaves, even you.” he’d said.

 “ Even you .” 

Eddie heard the words in his head over and over. He’d thought back to the start of the second batch of Buck’s stress baking, and realized it was just after Buck had found that listing on his iPad. Buck was in love with him. Buck started baking again because he was sad, because Eddie had made him sad. Eddie’s lips twisted, and his hands gripped the wheel harder. 

Eddie was used to guilt. Guilt had been shoved down his throat since before he was old enough to know a word for it. Guilt at not taking care of his sisters, of not being the man of the house, of getting Shannon pregnant, leaving and leaving again. There was no shortage of guilt. But this? Hurting Buck? That was unforgivable. 

Buck didn’t know Eddie had been meeting with Frank. Buck didn’t know Eddie had begun to untangle the complicated thoughts he’d shoved in boxes; the glances on the baseball field in high school, the lingering gaze in a med tent in the desert. The peeks snuck in the locker room. Those boxes were buried like coffins. Except, Buck. When Frank had asked him when the last time he’d done something for himself, every answer had been about Buck. Going out with Buck, staying in with Buck. When Frank had asked him what he wanted in a partner, rather than what he thought his son needed in a parent, Eddie’s answer had always come back to Buck. The camaraderie, the respect, always having each other's back. The endless interesting facts and keeping him on his toes. The easy way they worked together, and the way Buck loved Chris. The curve of his bicep, - well. Eddie had never said his name in that context, to Frank. That part stayed in his head. But, Eddie knew– thought he knew– that he could never have Buck, not in any way other than what he already did. Eddie would never hurt Buck like that. If Buck felt anything for him, he would have said something. 

And then he did. And he was hurting.

Eddie had watched Buck sleep for several long minutes after he’d confessed to Eddie’s couch. Then he’d cancelled the movers, grabbed a pair of underwear, the loaf, and his portable safe, shoved it all in a duffle, and started driving. 

And he kept driving.  Eddie replaced his charger at yet another truck stop, threw a quick “be back soon” text at Buck and continued his spiraling, shoving whatever flavorless gas station sandwich he’d bought in his mouth. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, right now, other than getting to his son, getting his son back to Buck. Buck needed his family, and Eddie needed Buck. And wasn't that a terrifying thought. Eddie would not disappoint another person. If Buck wanted him, then he’d have him, but not without Chris. Chris was going to come home if Eddie had to drag him kicking and screaming, but he didn’t think he’d have to. Chris would never say no if Eddie told him the truth. 

Buck was sad. Eddie had made him sad. Chris would want to fix it, together. 

Eddie held on to that thought, that Chris would want to help Buck. He let that one stay at the surface. But he shoved the little sliver of hope back in its box. Chris first. Everything later. If Buck still thought he deserved it. 

Eddie peeked back at the loaf. It was still there, judging him. He turned his eyes back to the road as he crossed over into Texas, Buck’s voice echoing in his head. 

—

Buck loaded the first few boxes, then realized the churning in his stomach was hunger, not nausea. He’d forgotten to order food before his accidental nap, and now he was regretting it. He trudged his way back in the house, and headed back into the kitchen. Now that his head was more clear, he was remembering bits and pieces of the night. He’d driven home but couldn’t bring himself to go inside. Driven to WeHo instead, rotated through a couple of guys on the dance floor, then taken one to the alley outside. Drunk as much as he could in as little time as possible. Anything to forget that Eddie was leaving. Leaving him. 

Buck knew Eddie needed to be with Chris, he just wished he could be with Chris and Buck at the same time. 

Buck searched the kitchen and found nothing except for a few granola bars, matching the one he’d passed by when he first woke up. He sighed and pulled out his phone to actually place an order this time, when he remembered; he’d left a loaf in his car. Was it still in his car? No - he grabbed it when he waited in his car for his ride to Eddie’s, wanting to give it to him for his drive. He must have forgotten it in the rideshare, when he got out and Eddie…Eddie had had a curtain rod. Buck's memories started flooding back. The curtain rod. Buck trying to tell Eddie he’d been screwing around to forget about him leaving and Eddie thinking he’d been talking about Tommy. The couch . The couch .  

Everybody I fall in love with leaves, even you.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Eddie pulled into the visitor’s spot at Chris’s school. He was close to the end of the school day, he thought, but not close enough to have to fight the pickup line. He sat in silence for a moment, bracing himself, taking deep breaths. Frank would be proud. 

Eddie laughed out loud at the thought, startling himself. Shaking his head, he glanced over at the passenger seat. 

“I’m going to go get Chris,” he told the loaf. He repeated it to himself again in his head. No room for arguments; he was going to retrieve his son. He opened the safe on the floorboard by the loaf, grabbed a few pieces of paper, ripped the truck door open and jumped out, then strode up to the front doors. The front office buzzed him in without question, and he waited impatiently for his turn to speak with the secretary. The woman in front of him signed out her daughter, and then it was his turn. 

“I’m here to pick up Christopher Diaz,” he said, relaying a confidence he didn’t feel. 

The woman raised an eyebrow. 

“And you are?” She asked in a studied polite tone. 

“His father,” Eddie replied sternly. The woman stared at him before turning to her computer. She typed in Chris’s name and turned back to Eddie with a steely expression. 

“I’m sorry, sir, the only people I have authorized to pick up Chris are his grandparents. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she explained in a bland tone. Eddie seethed inside. He clenched his muscles, kept a straight face. 

“That’s interesting, considering they don’t have custody of him,” he replied. He was prepared for this. He’d rehearsed this on his way. “I do. Not a single piece of paper has been signed other than one giving them permission to seek medical care. Look at your files,” he ordered. The woman frowned, but went back to the computer. She clicked around a few times, glanced back up at Eddie, then went back to the files, her frown deepening. 

“I see the form you’re referring to here; it was used to enroll him at the beginning of the year,” she explained.

“I see. Well. My name is Edmundo Diaz. I’m Christopher’s only living parent. He came to my parents house this past summer to visit. I allowed it. My mother said he wanted to stay, and I allowed that. But there is no custody agreement. Neither you nor them have any legal right to keep me from my son,” he stated. He shoved the stack of papers he’d grabbed from the safe across the counter.  “Here. Birth certificate. Marriage certificate. His mother's death certificate. My will, stating that I’m his only living parent and that guardianship would fall to Evan Buckley, not my parents, in the event of my death. If they’d had a custody agreement they would have provided you with it, but they didn’t, because it doesn’t exist,” Eddie said all in one breath. The woman took them, her mouth pursed, shuffling through them slowly.

“Do you have your - “ she was cut off by Eddie handing him his ID. She glanced at it, and compared it to the paperwork. 

“Mr. Diaz, this is highly irregular. I’m sure you understand that we only have Chris’ safety in mind,” she placated, placing his documents back on the counter separating them. 

“What’s highly irregular is that my son hasn’t spoken to me without my mother talking over him in months. Whats highly irregular is you refusing to look at the evidence in front of you. How were you even allowed to enroll him? You can ask -“

“Dad?!!!” A voice cried from behind the two bickering adults. Eddie whipped around in a flurry of scattered documents, and took two steps toward Christopher before his arms were full, finally, of his son. Eddie buried his face in Chris's hair, the blood rushing in his ears roaring so loudly he could barely hear what the teen was saying. 

“Dad! Dad. How are you -  here? I haven’t even talked to Denny yet. Did - did grandma call you? Is she finally gonna let me leave? I’m so mad but I want to go, go home,” he rushed out, stumbling over his words and tearing up. He leaned back far enough to wipe his eyes in a way so reminiscent of Buck it made Eddie’s chest tighten. Eddie squeezed Christopher one more time, then noticed a hard object clenched in his son's fist. He looked at it, curious, as Chris handed it to the secretary, letting it out of his fist to reveal a key on a chain, dangling on his finger. 

“Here Ms. Rita. I don’t need it anymore,” he said gleefully, looking back at Eddie. “Elevator key,” he explained. 

“Now, Chris, you’re going to have to wait. I don’t have anything saying you can go with your father, and - “

“Screw that!” the boy yelled, starling both adults. 

“Chris!” Eddie reprimanded, though he fully agreed with the sentiment. Chris rolled his eyes at Eddie and turned back to Rita. 

“I went to stay with my grandparents months ago because dad was being stupid. They won’t let me go back, even though they aren’t in charge of me. What else do you need to know,” he asked, flatly. Rita blinked in quick succession before turning to Eddie, who quickly interrupted whatever she was going to say. 

“There’s your proof. Now, I’m leaving with my son, and you can try to stop us, but if we’re interrupted by the cops I’ll be sure to tell them you refused to allow me access to my son, who I have full legal rights to,” Eddie explained, voice shaking with emotion. He leaned down to gather up his documents, grabbed his drivers license from the counter, and turned to leave. 

“You- you have to sign him out,” Rita said weakly, motioning towards the clipboard a few feet to the left. Eddie scowled at her, scrawled Chris’s name and the time, then tossed the pen back on the counter, not watching long enough to see it hit the floor on the other side. He turned back towards Chris instead, grinning. 

“Do you want me to carry your bag?” he offered. Chris shook his head. 

“Nah, I’m good dad,” he said with a smile, and gripped his crutches as he made his way to the door, walking through it without looking back as Eddie held it open. Rita gaped after them, still not entirely sure what she was supposed to do.

Eddie and Chris made their way to the truck, both thrumming with excitement and adrenaline. Chris broke the silence as they approached it. 

“How are you here? I wasn’t going to tell Denny to tell Hen to tell you to come get me until this weekend!” Chris asked excitedly. Eddie tilted his head.

“You were - why didn’t you just text me?” He asked. Chris frowned. 

“They took my phone. Wouldn’t let me play video games. Said it was ‘inappropriate’ for me to have a phone at ‘my age’. And video games are violent, of course. But I convinced them to let me play a bit  this weekend since I’ve ‘been good,’” he explained sarcastically.  Eddie stopped in his tracks a few feet from the truck, looking at his son in shock. 

“They took your phone,” he stated, before rubbing his eyes with his hands. “They took your phone. I texted you all the time. You never responded.”

“Yeah, well, they took it when we were on the plane home. I tried to steal it back but my crutches are too loud,” he said with a frown. “Dad, they treat me like a baby. Everyone here does, I can’t do anything! I want to go home.”

“Wait, go back - you tried to steal…” Eddie shook his head, the last part of Chris’ sentence sinking in. “We are absolutely going home,” he said firmly. “But we need to talk on the way,” he added, then motioned for Chris to get in the truck. He stayed close but let Chris hand him his crutches one by one, and watched as his son pushed the loaf towards the middle console, out of his way, then climbed in the truck using the handles placed there specially for that purpose. Eddie closed Chris’ door, opened the back door and slipped the crutches inside carefully, like he’d done a million times before, then slammed the door shut before walking around to the front and slipping inside the drivers side. He turned to Chris as he started the truck. 

“Why do you have a loaf of bread?” Chris asked incredulously, peeling back the foil to look inside. His head snapped toward Eddie as he yelled.

"No don't-" Eddie stopped, then backtracked, lowering his voice. "Actually, yeah. You can take it. Buck baked it. He'd want you to have it."

Chris raised his eyebrows. “Buck can bake?”

“It’s a long story,” Eddie sighed, shifting the truck into gear and backing up slowly. “Buck started baking when he broke up with Tommy. Apparently he does it when he’s upset, now.”

“Buck broke up with Tommy?!” Chris exclaimed, not having had a video chat since his birthday. It was easier to deal with Helena’s constant interruptions if he didn’t have to see his dads face while she did it. 

“Yeah, a while ago,” Eddie answered. 

“Then why was he upset?” asked Chris. 

Eddie tightened his grip on the wheel. 

“Because I was going to leave him to move here to be with you. And he told me he’s in love with me,” he admitted.

—-

Buck spent the rest of the day loading the Pod, first with furniture lining the back and sides, then with the mattresses and boxes filling in the gaps. Each time he picked up a box, he looked at it as a sort of penance. For falling in love with his best friend. For telling him. For making Eddie run away, forcing him to miss his party. For not encouraging him to go to Chris sooner. For being upset about him leaving. For ruining the best thing he had in his life. Each box he loaded in the Pod made him feel more hollow, as if he was leaving a piece of himself within the trailer with every item he wedged inside. 

Halfway through the day, Buck remembered his Jeep, and took a rideshare to where he’d parked it. He picked up food on the way back, and took advantage of the drive to charge his phone. After he’d eaten and parked down the street, he began again. 

He managed to load up most of the contents of Eddie’s house with only one smashed finger and a shallow cut across one arm from the corner of a bedframe. By the time the sun began to fall, he’d received one message from Eddie saying “We’re coming back,” but nothing else. Buck had peered at it, and spent the next ten minutes crying as he rearranged everything within the Pod so that it wouldn’t rattle too much. Even if Eddie did come back, weeks, months down the road, the house would be gone, and so would everything they’d had together. He ignored the tears falling down his face as he lifted and pushed things around. No one could see him crying, so it didn’t count. This was the bedframe he’d put together with Eddie. This was the dresser they picked up at that shady neighborhood just after Eddie had gotten his truck. Here was the kitchen table where he’d sat so often with Eddie and Chris, unaware of what the future held. It was also the table where he’d found out Eddie was leaving. 

Finally, the only thing remaining in the house was Eddie's couch. He’d managed to move the larger items by the good old “drag it on a moving blanket” trick, but the couch was simply too big to maneuver properly with only one person, especially through the door frame. He would figure it out tomorrow. Buck closed the front door behind him and sat on the couch, glaring at his phone. There was nothing else from Eddie, but there were a dozen messages checking in with him, confirming that the 118 were still going to get together since half of them had cooked already, and generally fussing about how he was doing. Buck hadn’t bothered to reply. He hadn’t spoken to another human being since the night before, and he couldn’t bring himself to do so now. 

Buck sunk back into the couch cushions, unwilling to turn on a light and see the empty room around him. He sat silently, staring at nothing, as the room  darkened around him. He shoved his phone into the couch cushions to make it quit vibrating, then curled up on his side to wait for the people to pick up the Pod in the morning. The silence around him buzzed in his head, in a room that had once held so much laughter and joy. Buck closed his eyes. He didn’t want to remember. He drifted to sleep, his muscles aching, and hoped he’d wake up tomorrow to find out it had all been a dream.

Chapter Text

—-

“Buck told you what?!” Chris exclaimed.

“You heard me,” Eddie muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up. Chris smirked.

“Well, did you say it to him back?”

“No! No. He was…” Eddie wasn’t sure how truthful to be to his fourteen year old. “He was mostly asleep on the couch. He wasn’t feeling great, and was… talking to himself.” Chris looked at his dad, incredulous.

“You can just say he was drunk, dad. I do know what alcohol is.” He rolled his eyes.

Eddie frowned at him. Sure, they would have a beer or two in the evenings, but he was pretty sure no one had been drunk around Chris. Chris raised his eyebrows at the look of alarm on Eddie’s face.

“Have you seen a single movie in the last ten years?” Chris scoffed. Eddie pursed his lips.

“Fine. He was - he’d been drinking,” Eddie conceded. Damn, that sounded bad out loud. “But he meant it. He was… “ Eddie paused. Inhaled. Let go. “I’ve got to make it right, bud.”

“Then why are you here instead of there?”

“When did you get such an attitude?” Eddie retorted.

“When I accidentally shipwrecked myself on an island full of people who think I can’t do anything and then got held hostage by the natives,” Chris quipped.

Eddie chuckled, then twisted his lips in a frown. “Has it really been that bad?” he asked, voice low.

“Yes, dad. I told you - they took my phone after I was here a little while. Said I couldn’t text you anymore because you ‘weren’t in a good place’. They won’t let me go out, won’t let me hang out - out with anyone, not like anyone wants to hang out with me, anyways because I’m - I’m just poor Chris with his crutches and his dead mom and -“ he stumbled, not sure how to finish his sentence.

Eddie peeked at him, but was silent, waiting to see if he’d continue.

“It’s been screwed up, dad.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows, and Chris scrunched his in response. “What? It has been. I didn’t mean…I mean I’m still mad, okay? But I wanted to come home like, like two weeks after I got here. It’s so boring.”

“I would have come to get you if you’d said so,” Eddie defended himself.

“Yeah well, Abuela wouldn’t let me.” Eddie absorbed this information, and father in son sat in silence for a few moments.

“Chris, is that…” he trailed off. “You quit talking. In our video calls, you quit talking. Is that why?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t want to deal with her anymore. She couldn’t interrupt me if I didn’t talk.”

Eddie groaned. “Oh my god Chris, we are so bad at this. I thought you quit talking because you were mad and didn’t want to come home.”

“I am mad, but, like, also super confused. But can we go back to the Buck told you he loved you thing?” Chris redirected, noting a tell-tale blush return to his dads cheeks. Chris smirked. “And how you didn’t tell it to him back because….?” he teased.

“What makes you think I…?”

“Dad, you are so dumb.” Chris continued on, ignoring the look Eddie flashed his way. “Like, he was at our house all the time. You cooked together and - and we went to family stuff together and he was like my second dad,” Chris listed. Eddie held his breath. “My friends at school think he is my second dad,” Chris mused, then sighed, looking out the window. “My old friends, I guess,” he added sadly, almost inaudible,” but not quiet enough that Eddie didn’t hear. A fresh wave of guilt rushed through Eddie’s body, and he ground his heel on the floorboard, gritting his teeth.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear from you,” Eddie said softly, peeking over at his son, whose face had fallen.

“Whatever, dad. I ghosted them for months. His words seemed to clarify something and Chris turned back to Eddie. “Kinda like you ghosted Buck? You said you didn’t say it to him back! You’ve gotta call him!”

“I am not telling him that over the phone,” Eddie said quickly, before backtracking. “I - I never said I was going to say it back to him!”

“Why not?! Everybody knows it,” Chris exclaimed.

Eddie choked. “What?” He managed to squeak out.

Chris laughed. “Dad you guys are like… you work together. Then he comes to our house. Or we go to his house. He picks me up from school and sleeps on our couch. He goes grocery shopping for our house. Oh and he did not like any of your girlfriends. Actually, you hated all of his, too,” Chris realized “What about his boyfriend? Were you guys friends?”. Eddie clenched his hands on the wheel. “See?” Chris motioned toward Eddie’s grip.

Eddie kept his eyes on the road, refusing to make eye contact. “Okay. Okay.” Eddie said slowly as they approached his childhood home. “Okay. So, if I said it back? You would… be okay with that?” he asked his son, trying desperately to shove the little tendrils of hope creeping out of their box back where they belonged.

Chris looked down at his lap, wringing his hands as he contemplated his response. "It's different. It's Buck. I think I'd be okay with it." Then peeked at his dad before turning his face back towards the passenger window, trying to hide his grin. "But, like, he'd get me in the divorce, okay?"

Eddie gaped at his son. “Div - I… who said anything-” he shook his head as Chris giggled. Chris’ laughter faded away as they turned onto the street where he knew Helena would be waiting.

“We’re here…” Eddie said softly, suddenly overwhelmingly anxious and angry and ashamed, and a dozen other emotions that burst up towards the surface at the sight of his childhood home. His words caught Chris’s attention.

“Wait. You are here. How are you here if I didn’t call you and neither did they,” he said pointing towards the house as Eddie parked in front of it. “Like, how did you know I wanted you to come. And why did you come if Buck told you that?”

“I was coming here anyway. The movers were supposed to come tomorrow,”

“What movers,” Chris asked flatly.

“The movers to pack our stuff up and move it here,” Eddie explained, holding up a hand to stave off the suddenly bristling teen. “I already canceled them.”

“You- you were going to move here? Leave Buck? And our house?”

“Yes Chris! What else was I supposed to do? You weren’t talking to me and it’s time for you to come home,” he burst out.

“Yeah, we already said that part, let’s do that, but why were you gonna leave Buck if you love him? Oh my god! Dad! You didn’t tell him it back and then you came to get me. Did you tell him you were coming to get me?” Chris’ voice accused. Eddie’s flush answered his question.

“Dad!” Chris scolded.

“I, well.. I just -“ Eddie’s words were cut off by Helena wrenching open the front door and stomping onto the front porch.She glared at Eddie and Chris, who tensed, identical looks of anxiety on their faces.

“I guess we better go in,” Chris said to his still-frozen dad a minute later. “Can we just get my stuff and go?”

“Yeah. Yes. Get in, pack, leave,” Eddie said firmly, ignoring his stuttering breath and racing pulse. He turned towards the passenger seat. “I love you, Chris.”

“Love you too, dad. Now let’s go get my stuff so we can go home to Buck. Who you totally ghosted,” he reminded. Eddie sputtered, then popped open his door and hopped out of the truck to avoid Chris's glare. Chris climbed out of the truck on his own, slow and practiced, as Eddie grabbed the crutches from the back.

“What are you doing!” Helena shrieked at her son and grandson, rushing down the porch steps to attempt to help Chris. “Do you want to fall? Eddie! How could you let him get out on his own?” she gasped, before turning back to Chris, who took the crutches from Eddie and took a few steps away from the raging woman. “What are you thinking?” she added, scolding them both.

“Hello, mom,” Eddie droned. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” he added, not bothering to hide his disdain.

“Why are you here?” she retorted.

“I’m here to bring my son home,” he said firmly, gearing up for an argument.

Helena sucked air between her teeth in a hiss. “Your son is home.”

Eddie squared his shoulders in response. “Good try, but how about you ask Chris what he thinks, first, without interrupting every word he says.”

“Chris is a child. He doesn’t get a say.”

“That’s funny, you let him have a say in coming here,” Eddie argued.

She scoffed. “What else was he supposed to do? I told you not to drag him down with you, and what did you do? That woman! You were never around, let him run around wild-“

“Oh my god Abuela, stop,” Chris yelled from the bottom of the steps, where he’d been watching the two adults bicker. “I’m not a baby. Dad did a dumb thing, but this is not - not our home. I’m going home. And dad told the school you can’t stop him from taking me,” he said confidently. Helena’s mouth dropped open.

“You won’t-“

“I am!” Eddie yelled, and watched as Chris climbed the steps one by one, defiantly ignoring the ramp set to the side while glaring at Helena, who rushed to help. Eddie blocked her approach, allowing Chris to finish climbing, staying close enough to help if needed. Once Chris had reached the porch, he stood to the side, hesitant to go inside. Eddie stomped up the steps then rushed towards the door, wanting to get this over with and nearly ran into his father as he came out to investigate the yelling.

“Edmundo? What - “ the smaller man asked, but Helena answered instead.

“He thinks he’s taking Chris home,” she spat out.

“Chris is home,” began Ramon.

“That’s what I told them!” Helena interrupted, as she trailed Eddie and Chris into the house, Ramon close behind her.

Eddie paused in the living room, the scents and sights of his childhood assaulting his senses. His chest began to tighten, and he fought the instinct to make himself smaller. He took a few deep breaths before striding towards his room, where he knew Chris had been sleeping. Frank would be proud, he thought to himself.

Behind him, Chris’ crutches tapped a steady beat for Helena’s shrieking recitation of her comprehensive “Eddie is a Failure List”. Eddie tuned her out; she had been saying the same things for his entire life. He was never the man of the house. He crashed the car. He didn’t own up to his responsibilities. Had Chris. Ran. Got shot. Didn’t work hard enough. Worked too hard. Wasn’t around enough. Spoiled Chris. Ignored Chris.

He reached down to slide the suitcases from underneath the bed. Everything in this house was so predictable. Frank had pointed out that when you expected certain things, it was easy to fall into learned behaviors. Eddie refused to do that today. He wasn’t going to sit back and let his parents try to destroy his family, again. Especially since it wasn’t complete yet. Eddie’s pulse began to race again, as thoughts of Buck rose to the surface.

Helena continued with her insults. He ran, again. Got a job that wasn’t safe. Left Chris with strangers. Got shot, again. Never visited. Cheated on his girlfriend.

Eddie stopped, and turned towards Helena and Ramon looming in the doorway, drawing himself to his full height. Chris propped one crutch up against the wall and began to gather up his belongings.

“I didn’t, actually,” Eddie retorted. Helena did a double take, not used to this particular spiel being interrupted. “I mean yeah. I was talking to her and Marisol didn’t know. I was probably too emotionally attached. It wasn’t headed in a great direction But I never kissed her. I was hugging her goodbye,” he defended himself. “And yeah, it was dumb, but it’s not like I asked her to cut her hair like Shannons. Or dye it. She was being weird. We weren’t going to talk again,” the words burst out of him. He’d gone over this over and over with Frank. And in doing so, had come up with a few new conclusions, both about the situation and himself. Helena blinked rapidly as Chris watched the exchange, absorbing his dads words.

“You didn’t - “

“Of course not, Chris. It was a weird situation and you can ask more questions on our way home,” he said pointedly, waving his hand toward the suitcase. “I’ll answer any you have,” he reiterated, knowing the words churning just below the surface would probably bring up even more.

Chris nodded, dumping a couple of books on the bed before turning towards the dresser. Helena’s shrieking began again as they both packed Chris belongings. Eddie knew by the glazed look in Christopher’s eyes that he, too, had heard this song and dance repeated in the months he’d been living in this hell.

“Are you listening to me!” Helena demanded, Ramon silent behind her.

“No, not really, mom,” Eddie shrugged. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” he said to her face, before zipping the first suitcase and turning to a duffle. Chris barely had more than he’d come here with.

“I - you” Helena stuttered.

“Go get your things from the bathroom, please” he instructed Chris, staring pointedly at Helena so that she would get out of the way. Eddie’s presence seemed to spur on the teen, and he started towards the door like his grandparents were not there, edging into Helena’s personal space before she backed off. Once he’d left the room, Helena turned back towards Eddie.

“You cannot possibly think you’re taking him back there,” she said, a hint of desperation coloring her voice.

Eddie steeled himself. “Yeah, I am. Because it’s what he wants. I spent the last few months feeling like my son hated me, because you refused to let him talk. You took his phone! Where is that, by the way? I’m paying for it, give it back,” he said flatly, not bothering to ask. “And the Switch,” he demanded. Helena bristled.

“Don’t, Helena,” Ramon said, the first words he’d uttered since they’d come in the house. He knew the fight was lost when Eddie had voluntarily come to their house. Eddie hadn’t been back in years. Ramon left the room and retrieved the items from where Helena had hidden them, stashed on one of their closet shelves, out of reach. He returned to the room to find his wife and son glaring at each other silently, and handed the phone and Switch to Eddie. Eddie grabbed them and tossed them towards the duffle without breaking eye-contact with Helena. The standoff was interrupted by Chris, who returned with a bag of items in one hand.

“That’s all of it,” he told Eddie, handing the bag to him. Eddie tightened his eyes at Helena before turning back to the duffle, tucking the bag of toiletries, the phone, and the Switch into an empty pocket. He zipped it shut and threw it over his shoulder.
“Good. We’re going home.”

“Finally! I can’t wait to see Buck,” he smirked at Eddie. Eddie grinned back, warmth and anticipation swirling together.

“Buck!” Helena blurted out. “Who is Buck?”

“You’ve met him, mom,” Eddie said, lifting the suitcase down and turning towards the door just in time to see Chris’ mischievous expression.

“Buck is-“

“Buck is waiting for us at home,” Eddie interrupted, giving Chris a look. Chris grinned and headed towards the front of the house, Eddie following. Eddie really hoped he wasn’t lying, that he hadn’t run him off, because if he had… If he had, he would have a brokenhearted son, and these next few minutes would make him seem like a fool. As he got to the threshold, watching as Chris slowly made his way down the steps, he stopped to look back at his parents. “By the way, you forgot something,” he said casually.

“Forgot what?” Helena blurted out.

“You forgot something on your Eddie is a Failure list.” Helena blinked, opening her mouth to argue, but looked her in the eye and continued before she could get a word in.

“I’m gay.”

He turned back towards his son, ignoring the silence behind him. He made his way down the steps, watching as Chris climbed carefully down the stairs, then into the truck, leaning each crutch against the door. Eddie opened the back passenger door, lifted the suitcase and shoved it inside, then placed the duffle on the floorboard. He carefully slid the crutches in one by one before closing the door. Eddie held his head high, strode over to the drivers side, and glanced back at his gobsmacked parents, huddled together on the porch. Turning away from them, he grinned at Chris as he started the truck.

“Ready to go home? Eddie asked. Chris smiled back, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

Chapter Text

A matching set of grins turned into Chris giggling, then Eddie chuckling, and quickly morphed into father and son laughing in relief. The pair were still smiling as they stopped at a gas station on the way to the highway, where they stocked up with snacks and drinks. Eddie relished the opportunity to spoil his son, barely able to stray out of his orbit. Chris was back, was his. Chris was still mad and confused but also happy and safe. Eddie couldn’t wait to surprise Buck. He let the hope burst in his chest and laughed out loud as Chris dodged his father’s attempts to ruffle his hair. The mood settled back into a casual air of companionship as they got back on the road and began to plan their way home.

“You want to spend the night here, bud? We can chill out, drive in the morning?” Eddie was exhausted, and hoped Chris agreed.

“No!” Chris burst out. “Can we just– I dunno. I don’t want to be in Texas anymore.” His mouth made a thin line as he looked down at his lap.

Eddie tapped his hands on the wheel. He knew he was in no shape to drive very far, given the minimal amount of sleep he’d managed before and during his trip here. Thinking quickly, he plotted the route home on his phone, and perused his options. “How do you feel about New Mexico?” He held the phone out towards his son at an angle.

Chris barely glanced at it before agreeing. “Whatever gets us out of here,” was his firm response.

“Alright kid. I’m too tired to drive a ton. Let’s get to Las Cruces, find some dinner and a hotel. Then when we wake up we drive the rest of the way and be home by dinner tomorrow.”

“Really? If we’re there by dinner can we go see Buck?” Chris wiggled in his seat.

“I dunno Chris. He’s got a shift the next day, he might be busy,” placated Eddie. In truth, he wasn’t sure what he’d be walking into. He wanted to believe that Buck had meant it, but now that he faced going back, he was beginning to feel doubt crawling up his spine. What if he’d misheard? What if Buck was talking about Tommy after all? He ground his teeth together and shifted the truck into reverse.

“But dad, you have to tell him. I mean, you definitely have to tell him now.” He paused. “Did you mean what you told Abuela?”

Eddie tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Took in a deep breath. Exhaled. “Yes. I’m gay, Chris.” The words seemed louder than they were, a declaration defying twenty years of hiding. Eddie snuck a quick look at his son, whose mouth was pursed tightly. He sighed. “Chris. I love your mom. I loved her since we were not too much older than you.” He paused for a moment, horrified. How was he supposed to have that discussion with him? Do as I say, not as I do? Shaking his head, he deliberately loosened his posture. “Bud, I know this sounds like an excuse, but it really was different then. Being - being gay wasn’t… It just wasn’t allowed. It was really scary. So I… I just, did what I was supposed to.”

“Have me when you were both teenagers?” was the incredulous reply.

Eddie huffed a stifled laugh. “Christopher. You know what I mean. I met your mom, I fell in love with her. She was easy to love. Just because we didn’t end up getting along later does not mean I didn’t love her.” He knew his attempts to explain were weak, but how did he explain that she was the one positive thing in his life, the only way he could try to be the man his parents had attempted to turn him into. Not that it worked, but it was the thought that counted.

Chris was silent for long enough that Eddie’s shoulders began to tense forward. After several minutes, Chris shifted, looking out of his window.

“I don’t remember you guys being together, not really.” His voice was unsure. “I mean. Before - before she died… we would do things together. And you guys seemed like you liked each other a lot sometimes. But then she would go away for a couple days. And come back. And go away and come back…”

Eddie held his breath.

“I think you like Buck more than you liked mom.” He fell silent again.

Eddie pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He shifted in his seat. Eddie had gone over this with Frank. A lot, actually; Eddie knew what Chris had figured out was true. He didn’t even feel guilty about it any more. Sure, he had at first. But he knew he had been put into an impossible situation. Shannon was his life raft. Buck was his island.

“I like Buck differently than I liked your mom,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t mean one has to be more than the other.” Eddie twisted his lips. He could never, ever tell Frank that he’d start quoting the man.

“You like Buck or you love him?” Chris prodded.

Eddie huffed. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope!”

Eddie glanced upwards, inhaling. “You’re the one who told me that you already knew,” he conceded. Hopefully this was enough. Eddie wanted to save the words for Buck himself. If Buck would even speak to him after he’d ran.

Chris turned his gaze to his dad, narrowing his eyes for a long moment. Finally, he seemed to decide that Eddie’s acknowledgement was enough of a confession, and he relaxed back into his seat.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

Eddie smiled softly. “Whatever you want, bud” was his reply.

The pair relaxed, and continued to chat as they approached their stop for the night. At some point Chris remembered that he had a phone now, and retrieved it from the back seat then stole Eddie’s charger without remorse. They continued to talk throughout the evening, stopping at a tamales stand in the parking lot of the local hardware store. Father and son cradled the foil packets in their hands, feet dangling off the bed of the truck, chatting and laughing together as they caught up. After storing the trash in the back seat, they headed to a hotel on the edge of town.

Eddie dragged Chris’ bags to their room while Chris’s fingers moved rapidly over his phone screen, even as he held a conversation with his dad. Once settled, Eddie took a quick shower, then dozed off while Chris took his. He startled awake when Chris re-entered the bedroom portion of the room.

“Go back to sleep, dad,” Chris scolded. “I’ll be fine.” He grinned and waved the phone in his hand at Eddie.

“Bed by ten, bud,” Eddie replied. “We’ve got to be up early if we want to make it by dinner.”

Chris signed. “Fine,” he drawled out, feigning annoyance. He threw himself into his own bed while Eddie re-settled on the one closest to the door. Eddie passed out immediately, but Chris stayed up chatting with anyone he could get to answer at this time of night. He and Denny texted back and forth excitedly until Hen messaged him saying she’d taken the phone for the night. Chris knew the entire 118 would know he was coming back by the morning, and he bounced a bit in excitement. Just before he went rolled over to sleep, Chris sent a quick message to Buck. Smile on his lips, Chris drifted to sleep, content, and finally free.

—-

For the second day in a row, Buck woke up with the sunrise, huddled on Eddie’s couch. He didn’t remember falling asleep, and his body was slumped sideways. Groaning, he stood up, extended his arms and shook out his cramped legs before popping his neck. He looked around at the empty room, dust glinting in the air in the light of the sun.

Rubbing his face, Buck got ready for the day, peeking at his phone and realizing he still had hours before the Pod was picked up in the late morning. He also noticed dozens of texts from the 118, and even a few from Carla, Athena, and Karen. He scrolled through the texts without reading them, but nearly dropped his phone when he realized one was from Chris. His chest swooped with joy when he read that the kid missed him and would see him soon, but his face fell after a moment. If Chris was texting him, it meant that he was back with Eddie. He was happy for them, but the mixture of jealousy and fear and sorrow made his skin begin to itch. He felt like his bones were too big for his body, and his pulse echoed in his ears.

Buck made his way to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. The need to do something with his hands was overwhelming, but there was nothing to bake with. Wringing them together, he looked around and scraped a stain off the edge of the island counter. He rubbed his fingers together to get the residue off and paused. Eddie had someone from the property management company he’d chosen scheduled to come out later in the week, but maybe Buck could save him a few hundred bucks.

Buck hurried over to the couch and retrieved his keys from the floor, then slipped off his shoes and rushed outside. As he locked the door, he lost some of his momentum. This was crazy. Eddie had someone to clean. Just like he had somewhere else to live and had a family that wasn’t Buck. Eddie didn’t need him. Or even want him, given how quickly he’d run, leaving Buck in the dust to get things sorted.

Buck ran his fingers through his hair before wrapping his arms around himself. He’d fucked up the best friendship he’d had by being stupid and falling in love with Eddie. Worse, he’d drunkenly confessed after showing up on his door uninvited. The least he could do was save him a little bit of money. Buck loosened his grip, flexed his hands, and hopped in the Jeep. He’d make sure the place was spotless; not leave a single sign he’d ever been there. It was for the best.

—-

The endless brushland passed in a blur of brown, stuttered with pump jacks and tiny, one gas station towns. Eddie had gotten them on the road a bit after five. After passing out before nine, he’d woken up just before five in the morning well rested. He contemplated waiting til Chris woke up, but after realizing he had no idea when the boy had gone to sleep, he decided he couldn’t wait. Eddie loaded the car in the dark, roused Chris enough for him to get him into the truck, and hit the road.

Chris dozed on and off for most of the early morning, leaving Eddie to eat his breakfast of leftover sunflower seeds and lemon drops as he mulled over the past thirty or so hours. They had mutually decided not to eat the loaf, and it sat in the middle console, waiting. Hopefully they could all eat it together.

As he drove closer to Buck, he felt twenty years of repression slipping through the cracks of his neatly compartmentalized boxes of trauma and fear. At first, he panicked, trying to push them back where they belonged, but gradually, mile by mile, he took deep, deliberate breaths, flexed his hands where they’d been gripping the wheel too tight, and let them go.

He felt flushed, remembering the first time he’d realized he had a crush on a boy on his baseball team. His name was - Raul? Rafael? He couldn’t remember. He did remember the feeling though, and the rush of Catholic-flavored shame that colored the next few years. He remembered the guilt at nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, willing his eyes to stop. He had a wife, and besides; it could be dangerous just to look there.

He remembered Buck. Eddie focused on his breathing. Buck was different. Buck’s ridiculous posturing had thrown him off at first until he realized the man was just scared to lose his place. Over the years Buck had integrated himself into his and Chris’s lives so seamlessly that Eddie hadn’t even noticed what it meant. Oh, he’d noticed Buck. Admired his muscles and the curve of his arm, his ridiculous eyes… but after so many years of shoving thoughts just like those so far back into the recesses of his mind, Eddie didn’t even have to try anymore. He was barely aware of it.

Buck telling him he was with Tommy threw his world so off center he thought he was going mad. It took days to realize that he was jealous; not, yet, of Tommy himself. That would come later, after a talk with Frank. No, Eddie was jealous that Buck was able to explore this side of himself with so much acceptance and love surrounding him. He hadn’t thought much past that, until he started dreaming.

The first dream was after a morning shared with Buck and Tommy, sparring at the gym as a distraction after Chris had left. Buck had casually leaned his hand against Tommy’s shoulder before giving him a quick kiss and heading off to refill his water bottle. Eddie nearly fell off of the bench he’d been resting on when his brain supplied him with the idea that he’d like a kiss also. After that, he’d gone to Frank.

The first time he tried to broach this topic in Frank’s office, Eddie hadn’t said a word for nearly twenty minutes. Every time he’d open his mouth. His chest tightened further and further until he began to hyperventilate. Frank had talked him through it, as he’d done many times before, and eventually Eddie had managed to choke out one word: Buck. Frank had been confused, worried that Buck had been injured again, when Eddie blurted out that Buck was fine, and then promptly lost it at the double entendre. Buck was fine.

Eddie had laughed until he was sobbing. And then he began to laugh again. Buck had seemed to leap into his bisexuality with not much more than a talk with Maddie and a smile. Eddie, instead, took his boxes and boxes of thoughts he’d never allowed himself to feel, and had thrown them at Frank’s feet until they were a crumbled mess. They’d spent the next several sessions talking about Catholic guilt and repression, compulsory heterosexuality and societal expectations of single fathers.

And then, after several weeks, Frank began circling back to Buck. Eventually, Eddie quit redirecting him, and let himself feel. The first time he’d had a not-so-appropriate dream of Buck, the man had been sleeping on his couch, and Eddie thought he’d die of shame. The next time, Buck was single, and he felt less shame and more confusion, because his dreams weren’t just fantasies he’d repressed for years; they were interspersed with Buck at his kitchen table, Buck at the zoo, Buck with a toddler on his shoulders and Chris by their sides. Buck as his.

Eddie watched as Buck spiraled into a baking-fueled grief for what could have been, but held his feelings at bay, guilt over what had happened with Marisol and Kim and Chris preoccupying his every day. He didn’t push the thoughts down, anymore, so much as he set them aside. He placed them gently in a box of sexual frustration with a side of hope and emotions he couldn’t yet acknowledge and focused on his son. Eventually, as Chris withdrew further, Eddie decided his son needed time to process, but he couldn’t spend another minute away from him. So he’d planned the move, and Buck, who seemed to have recovered from his heartbreak, had begun to bake again. This was confusing to everyone around him. Eddie took the brunt of Buck’s panic, not knowing it was about himself. The constant gifts of baked goods combined with the way Buck seemed to be keeping himself at a distance made his heart ache, but he knew Buck didn’t feel the same way he did.

And Chris came first. Eddie created new boxes in his brain as he packed his belongings into the literal boxes he’d abandoned in his living room. Into these new boxes, he placed every dream of a future with Buck, every thought of caressing his arm or kissing him on the sunlit porch or of spending the night behind closed doors together.

And then Buck had confessed his love for Eddie into the couch cushions (he did, didn’t he? He did say that)? It took him only moments for these newly stashed thoughts to burst out of their confines. But Chris came first.

And Chris already knew. Frank had been the first person to hear Eddie say the word gay. Frank had been the first person to hear Eddie confess that he may, may have romantic feelings for his best friend, even though he knew he could never have him.

But Chris knew that Eddie loved Buck, a thought Eddie had not let himself complete until he’d been standing in his living room the day before. Chris knew, and the world did not crumble around them. Instead, Eddie had Chris, and Eddie was bringing him back to Buck. Back to their family.

Excitement and acceptance and trepidation and, of course, guilt, swirled in his chest as his truck approached the edge of Tucson. Eddie pulled into the first gas station he saw, and glanced down at his phone as he parked alongside a pump. His hand nudged the loaf as he reached for it, and he looked down. The loaf couldn’t judge him now. He was finally doing what he wanted, instead of what he was expected to do.

“Hey bud, wake up,” he turned to Chris, shaking the boy awake. “Let’s go! Breakfast, then we can head home.” His let a smile spread across his face as he watched Chris grumble his way awake. They were headed home. Together, to Buck.

-

By the early afternoon, the living room, hallway, and kitchen, were spotless. Buck had scoured his way from one end of the hall to the next, scrubbing the walls from the top of his reach to the floorboards. He wiped down the baseboards and even the top edge of the kitchen cupboards. Eddie cleaned, sure, but the gunk from the top of the fan had still fallen in his face and made him sneeze. Buck deserved it.

Buck’s phone had been tossed back into the couch cushions in frustration hours before, during his brief break to eat a few granola bars. After the movers never showed up, he’d given in and texted Eddie, whose only response was not to worry about it. Not to worry. Buck ground his teeth together in annoyance and grabbed his supplies to tackle the bathroom, which he systematically scrubbed for over an hour.

Once that was done, he moved to the bedroom walls, his pity and sorrow and self-hatred morphing into anger. Not worry. Fine. He wasn’t going to worry any more. And Eddie didn’t have to worry about him any longer either. Eddie didn’t have to worry that Buck would do something stupid at work. Or do something stupid after work, like show up wasted and confess his love to his straight friend.

Eddie didn’t have to worry about Buck anymore.

Buck’s anger roiled inside and he took it out on the bedroom walls, scrubbing every dirt-stained outline where there had once been furniture until the paint began to fade. He swept and mopped until you could eat from the floor. Tapping his foot, he searched around the apartment, desperate to find something else to do as the afternoon passed by. Finally, he settled on the windows.

Buck stomped over to each one, using his height to get to the top of each window in the living room. Then he went back to each bedroom, slightly disappointed he was having to tromp over the newly cleaned floors. He even went outside and cleaned the glass in the sunshine, when he noticed the little scrap of a yard looked a bit scraggly.

By the time the sun began to set, Buck was sweaty and seething. Sure, he’d done some stupid shit, said some stupid shit, but for Eddie to run, just take off, after seven years without saying goodbye? That made Buck mad too. He knew Chris would always be Eddie’s priority, but he thought they really had a connection, even if it would never be the one he really wanted. Apparently he was wrong. Eddie ran from him, just like all of the others. Only somehow this time it felt worse.

Buck made his way back inside one more time. He gathered his trash and tossed the bag by the door to grab on his way out. He placed his newly-bought cleaning supplies back in the bags they had come from, and set them next to the trash bag. Shaking, he made his way to the couch and sat down heavily. He retrieved his phone from between the cushions and shoved it in his pocket without bothering to look at the screen. His knees ached from the hours of crouching and crawling. For some reason this reminded him of a time he’d made a blanket fort with Chris, laughing and crawling and scooting across the floor to sit against the couch he was sitting on now, alone. Buck broke down. He let himself cry, just for a few minutes. The room was getting dark and no one could see.

After a few minutes, his sobs subsided and he wiped his face with the edge of his shirt, wrinkling his nose at the stench of sweat clinging to him. Sighing, he braced his elbows on his thighs and looked around, willing himself to leave. He’d leave, and this time he would be the one not coming back. He was alone, and he deserved it.

Chapter Text

The door felt smooth under his hand. Buck held himself there for far too long, willing himself to leave. He’d taken the trash to the dumpster, loaded his car with the other bags, then come back to lock the door, but he couldn’t bring himself do it. He stood with his head against the door, hand pressed to the smooth surface, unmoving. Buck's chest was tight, his body still. His thoughts were a chaotic rush of emotions and memories. 

This was the last time he’d stand on this porch. His breath stuttered as he oscillated between seething anger and a wretched pit of grief. Anger at Eddie, for not having the balls to say goodbye. At Kim, for her part in chasing Chris away. The Diaz parents, for convincing Chris to stay. At himself, for being stupid enough to fall in love with his best friend, for getting drunk, coming here, telling him. For always, always , being too much . For never being enough. 

He fell into the void in his heart, the one where he slammed the door of his parents house for the last time, waiting for them to come after him. Where he watched Maddie’s silhouette disappear in the rear-view mirror of the Jeep. That jolt from pleasure to emptiness as he stewed in a pile of sweat and self-hatred after watching every one-night stand walk away. Abby, at the glass doors, as they closed behind her. Ali, Taylor, Natalia. Oh, some of them were his fault, but he felt their loss all the same. Chris, leaving without looking back. Tommy, with his stupid cleft and his even stupider parting words. And now Eddie. Eddie, who Buck loved with every atom of his body. Eddie ran away in the middle of the night, from his own house no less. Ran away from Buck. Exhausting . 

Buck locked his jaw. Took his hand off the door. Put the key in the cylinder. Turned it, one last time. The grinding click roared in his ears. He took a step back, turned around, made towards his Jeep, keys jingling. Then he stopped, held them up. Eddie’s key was where it had been for almost as long as he’d known the man; nestled on the ring between Bobby’s and Maddie’s. The plan had been for Buck to keep the key and be a backup for the property manager. Eddie wouldn’t want him to have the key. Not now. 

Buck angled the key chain towards the porch light so he could separate it from the others, then held it in his palm, squeezing until the sharp edges dug in, making indentations. He kept squeezing. It felt good, crisp, like speeding down the highway on his bike, like cliff diving, rushing into a 3-alarm fire. His skin itched, buzzed. He squeezed harder, a nerve twinging somewhere in his thumb. He needed to leave. Buck didn’t belong here, anymore. He loosened his grip, contemplated what to do with the key for a moment, and decided to hide it out back. 

The sounds of an evening coming to an end taunted him as he made his way around the house. He could hear children laughing to each other, a bike passing by, a car getting home. The dichotomy between the chaos in his head and the normalcy around him made him dizzy, made him want to go do something crazy. Maybe it was time to take a trip. Leave, just for a little while. It was bad enough to have to go back to work knowing Eddie was gone, but having to see the others, when he’d scared Eddie off before he could say goodbye to his family? Buck didn’t know how he was going to face them again. 

Gravel crunched under his feet. He scoped out the area by the back door, chose a rock just underneath the window. Stashed the key without hesitation. It didn’t belong to him anymore. 

Maybe he could go back to Peru. Or go a different direction this time. He could tour Europe, like Abby. Go to Italy, take some cooking classes. He’d have to come back for Maddie’s baby, but he could still take off for a little while. He let himself daydream as he made his way back around the house to his Jeep. Anywhere was better than here. 

——

The rest of the drive passed quickly. Eddie made true on the whole ask whatever you want thing. Chris didn’t really understand the whole Kim situation, but he decided that focusing on Buck and being back home was better. His dad had told him about Buck breaking up with Tommy, baking, and then baking again. It was kind of weird, but dad seemed to think it was important, so it probably was. Chris knew he should have focused more on what his dad was saying, but he was distracted. He was free. They were going home. Buck was waiting for them. Dad was finally going to quit being dumb.  

Chris couldn’t stay still. He was restless when they entered the city. Now, two minutes from the house, he was squirming in his seat. He and his dad hadn’t heard from Buck yet but they’d both texted him saying they were almost there. Chris bounced in his seat as they turned on to their street, tossing the loaf between his hands. Somewhere between Tuscon and Phoenix, they’d agreed not to eat the loaf until they were with Buck again. Chris had kept it safe from being squashed in the general squalor of a cross-country trip. 

Chris craned his neck to try to see further than just the road just ahead. Everything looked the same. The light was fading, but nothing seemed to stand out. A few of the neighborhood kids were wandering home. Someone on a bike sped down the sidewalk beside the truck. Chris caught a glimpse of a maintenance man turning the corner of the building by their unit just as they pulled up behind the Jeep on the curb, the pod taking up most of the driveway. A lawn mower roared to life as he opened the door, tossed the loaf on the seat behind him, and crawled out as fast as he could. He ignored Eddie’s calls to slow down and half stumbled up the ramp, making it to the door just as Eddie stepped up behind him, loaf in one hand and a bag of road-trip trash in the other.

Chris tried the door but it was locked. He turned to Eddie in confusion.

“Hold on bud, let me get my keys.” Eddie shoved the loaf under one arm and started searching for the right key. Impatient, Chris started knocking, missing Eddie’s furrowed eyebrows. The Jeep was in the driveway, but the windows looked dark. They had told Buck they were almost there. Chris bit his lip. What had his dad said? He had to make it right? Just how wrong was it? 

He began to look around, a slow panic rising in his chest. Why wouldn’t Buck be waiting for them?

“That’s odd,” Eddie murmured, as he turned the lock and threw open the door to the empty, dark apartment. He turned around to motion to Chris, but Chris had found what he was looking for. 

“Buck!

—-

Eddie whipped around, and yelled in alarm as Chris half fell, half crawled off the porch and made a few lurching movements towards Buck, who leapt forward to catch the boy as soon as his feet left the cement. 

“Buck!” A smile overtook Eddie’s features as the man he loved held his son in his arms. Then warmth that had begun spread through his chest stuttered as he took in Buck’s expression. He hid his face in Chris’s hair, but not before Eddie had seen the shock and fear on his face as he paled, then flushed. Buck grasped his son, unmoving, for long enough that Chris squirmed until Buck loosened his hold. 

“Buck! I missed you! Why didn’t you reply to any of our texts? What are you doing out here?” his son’s voice chattered excitedly, but Eddie was slowly realizing something was very wrong. Buck hadn’t looked up, and he hadn’t said a word, not even as Chris continued to pepper him with questions. 

“Buck.” The man still refused to look his way, and Chris finally seemed to realize something was wrong. He squirmed back a few more inches until Buck let go. 

“Buck?” Eddie’s alarm rose as Buck still refused to answer Chris. Then he seemed to shake off whatever had frozen him as he reached out to touch Chris’ shoulders, grasping them much more gently this time. 

“Chris.” Buck’s voice was cracked and quiet, as if he hadn’t spoken in a while. “How are you here?” Eddie closed his fist tighter around the bag in his hand. Loosened it. Took a deep breath. 

“We texted you,” he replied, before Chris could do so himself. “Did your phone die or something?” Buck blinked rapidly before craning his head up to the porch, but he still refused to meet Eddie’s eye. 

“Oh. I, uh. I haven’t checked it,” he whispered. Eddie narrowed his eyes, examined Buck in the dying light. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. And worse, it looked like he was in the same clothes that he’d shown up to the house in two nights ago. Eddie’s pulse raced. 

“Buck, when’s the last time you checked your phone?” Buck flushed again, and this time looked up at Eddie, the expression in his eyes a little wild. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he snarked, repeating what Eddie had said to him hours ago, but Buck sounded serious. He let out a strange, stilted laugh, then turned to Chris. 

“I’m glad you’re home, bud,” he said, a hint of warmth returning to his voice. Then turned back to Eddie. Eddie could see the other man seem to shrink into himself. 

“I’ll go.” Eddie had never heard his voice quite like that. Broken, angry, devastated. Buck drew himself to his full height, and almost ran to the Jeep. 

Chris, who had been silently watching the two men in confusion, yelled out. “Buck! Wait!” 

Buck tripped over his feet and slammed his elbow into the truck to catch himself. 

“Fuck,” Buck muttered, grabbing his elbow and rubbing it, then shook out the entire arm, breath hissing.  

“Swear Jar,” Chris ordered as he followed slowly, holding on to the edge of the porch to steady himself. Eddie almost laughed, but he was too concerned at the other man’s odd behavior. Buck had run from him before, but this time, he wasn’t going to let him. Eddie hopped down the steps and gently grabbed Chris’ arm before the boy could get closer to Buck. 

“Why don’t you go inside, bud.” He made eye contact with his son, ensuring he knew it wasn’t a request. Chris frowned in response, but did as he was asked and made his way inside. He raised his eyebrows in a disconcerting way as Eddie shooed him with one hand. The door shut behind him, and Eddie turned back to Buck, who had used the distraction to get to the Jeep. Eddie ran the few steps he needed to get to the passenger side just as Buck jumped inside the driver’s side. He snatched open the door seconds before Buck pressed the lock button and slid inside as Buck started the car. 

Eddie was able to see the tremble in Buck’s arms before he clenched the wheel, where they stood out, white and tense and the dark. 

“Get out.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Nope.” He set his keys and the loaf on the dash.

“Please, Eddie. Just leave me alone. I’ll go. You don’t have to do this.” His voice cracked, but his body was tense, like he couldn’t quite decide what to feel. 

Eddie relaxed his body into the seat. “Not leaving, Buck. Not gonna let you leave, either. Can’t leave Chris alone anyways,” he said smoothly, hoping he could damp down his own panic until he figured out what was going on in Buck’s head. 

Buck gritted his teeth. “Why are you doing this? Just - just leave it be. I’ll go. You don’t have to see me again.”

Eddie blinked rapidly. He had expected some level of spiraling, but obviously he was missing something for Buck to think that he’d want… Thinking quickly, he went through the past two days in his head. Buck’s confession. Leaving. He didn’t tell him. He texted him though, didn’t he? Eddie realized with a growing horror that he had never told Buck when, exactly, he was coming home, not until the last text. The one he didn’t read. “Oh Buck…” 

Buck bristled at Eddie’s soft tone. He turned towards Eddie and unclenched his teeth. “Don’t.” he ordered. Pleaded. 

Eddie sighed. “Don’t what?” he asked sadly. 

“Don’t do this!” Buck exploded. “You - you, don’t do this. Don’t feel sorry for the stupid can’t keep his feelings to himself bi-disaster. And don’t act like you didn’t run away to leave me with your mess!” 

“My mess? What are you talking about?” 

“Uh, your stuff? That you left here for me to deal with?” Buck motioned at the Pod. 

“I told you not to worry about it,” Eddie defended himself. 

“What does that even mean?” Buck scoffed. 

Eddie shook his head. Time to regroup. “Buck. I cancelled the movers. I cancelled the Pod. They’re gonna pick it up on Friday.” 

This seemed to confuse Buck more. “Wha - why?” 

Eddie huffed. “I’m not moving Buck. I’m not leaving. Chris and I are home for good”. 

This did not seem to calm Buck down in the least bit. Instead, tears welled up in his eyes and he swiped at them angrily. “That’s nice,” he muttered. “I’m happy for you. Now, will you let me go?” 

“No.” 

Buck inhaled sharply at this response, anger seeming to win whatever battle he’d been having within himself. 

Eddie saw the opportunity and blurted out. “I told Chris what you said.” Buck paled, eyes wide, but Eddie continued. “Do you know what he said?” Buck gaped at him, blinking quickly. He closed his mouth. Opened it again. Eddie kept going. “He asked if I’d said it to you back. And asked why I was there, instead of here, with you.” Eddie explained softly. “I left almost as soon as you passed out. I went to go get Chris, to bring him home to you. To us.” 

Buck stared at Eddie, unbelieving. “Eddie…” 

“No. Let me talk,” Eddie said sharply, then softened his tone. “I’ve been talking to Frank. For months, Buck. I didn’t want to leave. I needed Chris. But I wanted you. Want. Frank knew it. I was just… I had to get Chris back. And I thought you didn’t…. I kept telling you we were going to come back. I meant it.” Buck still looked confused and Eddie shook his head, let the words spill out of his mouth. 

“You know what else Chris said?” he asked, but didn’t stop for Buck to answer. “Well, he accused me of ‘ghosting’ you by leaving, but that’s besides the point. Then he told me that everyone already knows that I love you. Am in love with you....” Eddie’s voice died off and he blushed, turning away from the other man as he realized what he said. 

Buck’s mouth dropped open with an audible pop. 

Eddie turned back towards Buck at the sound, reaching out with one hand “I-” 

Both men startled at a sharp knock on Eddie's window. He rolled it down, confused and reeling from what he'd so easily said.

Chris stood outside, arms crossed, obviously upset.

"Where's all our stuff?!"

Chapter Text

As Buck rounded the corner, his feet stopped so quickly he almost fell. He stared. Blinked. Stared again. 

Chris was on the porch. Chris, with Eddie. They were on the porch. He was seeing things. 

But then - 

“Buck!” 

Buck reacted on instinct as he saw Chris begin to fall. As he caught the teen and steadied him on his feet, he clung, holding him as if he was much younger. Chris smelled like Funyuns and gas station hotdogs. Saw. Heard. Touched. Smelled. He was actually here. How was he here? Buck’s stomach twisted. Buck couldn’t be here. Couldn’t ruin things even further than he already had. He hid his face in Chris’ hair. It was bad enough that he had to leave. But being forced to leave, especially now that Chris was here? He wasn’t sure how he was going to survive the next few minutes.

His pulse pounded in his ears as Chris chattered. Eventually the teen pulled back, and Buck was forced to loosen his grip, then let go entirely. He refused to look up. Reached out and touched Chris’s shoulders, just to make sure he was still there.

“Chris.” He didn’t recognize his own voice. Couldn’t remember the last words he’d spoken out loud. “How are you here?” He reeled from the teen’s sudden appearance, his emotions a kaleidoscope. Anger, fear, sorrow. Excitement, confusion. Love. Expanding then narrowing, swirling together in the mess of his head. 

“We texted you.” Buck’s head jerked up towards the sound of Eddie’s voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to look the man in his eyes. 

“Buck, when’s the last time you checked your phone?” 

He’d been ignoring his phone since Eddie’s last message made him angry. He hadn’t even heard the thing after he’d stuffed it in the couch cushions. Now, remembering the words, his emotions decided which one they wanted to focus on. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he snarked, an answer twice over. Then he choked on a laugh. Turned to Chris. “I’m glad you’re home, bud.” He meant it. But it also meant he had to leave, like, now. “I’ll go.” His voice held a finality that made him feel sick. He would go. He just didn’t know when he’d come back. He did what he did best. He fled. Ran towards the Jeep. 

“Buck! Wait!” Chris’s voice caught Buck off guard, and he tripped, funny bone slamming on the side of the truck. 

“Fuck,” Buck muttered, grabbing his elbow and rubbing it, then shook out the entire arm, breath hissing.  

“Swear Jar,” Chris ordered as he followed slowly, holding on to the edge of the porch to steady himself. Eddie grabbed his son’s arm, and sent the teen inside. Buck didn’t blame him. He didn’t deserve to be around Chris anymore. Or Eddie. While Eddie’s back was turned, he continued his quest, and ran towards the driver's door of the Jeep, but he wasn’t fast enough. Eddie slipped inside the passenger side before he could mash the lock button. Bucks pulse, already high, began to race. He was not prepared for this. He couldn’t do this. He clenched the steering wheel. 

“Get out.” Buck worked to keep his voice steady. Eddie’s response was not helping him calm down. He pled with the man. Offered him an out. Tried to turn this into something other than it was; bad, bad, bad . Then the man played his trump card. He knew Buck too well. 

“Not leaving, Buck. Not gonna let you leave, either. Can’t leave Chris alone anyways,” Eddie explained, too smug for Buck’s liking. He gritted his teeth. 

“Why are you doing this? Just - just leave it be. I’ll go. You don’t have to see me again.” Eddie seemed to take a long time to respond, and when he did, his soft, sad tone of voice made Buck see red. 

“Oh Buck…” 

Buck turned towards Eddie and unclenched his teeth. “Don’t.” he ordered. Pleaded. Buck was barely hanging on to his anger, and Eddie was still playing coy. 

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do this!” Buck exploded. “You - you, don’t do this. Don’t feel sorry for the stupid can’t keep his feelings to himself bi-disaster. And don’t act like you didn’t run away to leave me with your mess!” 

“My mess? What are you talking about?” Jesus. Why was this conversation even happening. He contemplated getting out of the car and getting a rideshare. Anything to get away from this .

“Uh, your stuff? That you left here for me to deal with?” Buck motioned at the Pod. Then Eddie said something that broke his heart even more. 

“Buck. I cancelled the movers. I cancelled the Pod. They’re gonna pick it up on Friday. I’m not moving Buck. I’m not leaving. Chris and I are home for good”. 

God. God . If he’d just kept his stupid fucking mouth shut. None of this would have happened. Eddie would have Chris. Buck could continue to have Chris and Eddie. Sure, it sucked, being in love with his best friend, but these things happened. But no, he couldn’t keep his stupid, drunk thoughts to himself, and now Chris was back, Eddie was staying and Chris was staying and Buck couldn’t stay with them. He swiped angrily at the tears that filled his eyes. 

“That’s nice,” he muttered. “I’m happy for you. Now, will you let me go?” 

“No.” 

Buck nearly threw up. His heart was echoing in his ears. But Eddie kept talking. 

“I told Chris what you said. Do you know what he said?” 

Buck gaped at him, blinking quickly. He closed his mouth. Opened it again. Couldn’t figure out how to run. How to speak. He told Chris? Buck needed to leave. Right now. He just couldn’t seem to get his body to cooperate, and Eddie just kept talking.

 “He asked if I’d said it to you back. And asked why I was there, instead of here, with you. I left almost as soon as you passed out. I went to go get Chris, to bring him home to you. To us.” 

Buck stared at Eddie. Bits and pieces of what the man was saying were trickling through the roaring in his ears. There. Instead of here. With you. With Buck? Home. To us. Us.. “Eddie…” 

“No. Let me talk,” Eddie said sharply, then softened his tone. “I’ve been talking to Frank. For months, Buck. I didn’t want to leave. I needed Chris. But I wanted you. Want. Frank knew it. I was just… I had to get Chris back. And I thought you didn’t…. I kept telling you we were going to come back. I meant it. You know what else Chris said? Well, he accused me of ‘ghosting’ you by leaving, but that’s besides the point. Then he told me that everyone already knows that I love you. Am in love with you.” 

Buck was nearly hyperventilating. He hadn’t touched Eddie yet. Only heard him. Saw him. Only two of five. Surely he was imagining things. Everyone knew… that Eddie loves him? Eddie is in love with him? Buck’s mouth dropped open with an audible pop. Eddie stared at him. Reached out. What was happening? 

Both men startled at a sharp knock on Eddie’s window. Chris stood outside, arms crossed, obviously upset. Eddie rolled down the window. 

“Where’s all our stuff?!” Chris’ tone was demanding. Accusing. “You said we weren’t moving!” 

“We aren’t” was Eddie’s reply, but Buck’s brain was barely online. 

“Uh, it looks like we are! All our stuff is gone. And the house is, like, SO clean.” Buck was barely paying attention. Words. He’d heard those words. 

Eddie turned back towards Buck and Buck focused on him, and glanced back to Chris, then back to Eddie. Chris. Eddie again. 

“Buck, where’s all our stuff?” Eddie asked. 

“Uh.” Buck was still confused. He motioned to the Pod. That, he knew. The stuff was in the Pod. He’d put the stuff in the Pod. He was supposed to put the stuff in the Pod. Wasn’t he? 

“The Pod?” Buck nodded. 

“Why is our stuff in the Pod?”

Buck blinked. “Because the movers didn’t show up?” 

“Yeah. Because I cancelled the movers, Buck.” Eddie’s tone was incredulous. Buck’s face was even more so. 

“You didn’t tell me that.” 

“I - what? I told you I’d be back soon.” He had done that. But - 

“Yeah, I thought you meant you’d be back, like eventually…” Buck was slowly coming back to himself, but part of his brain kept repeating what Eddie had said just now. To him. About him. 

“Uh, so you what? Loaded the whole thing on your own?” 

“Yes?” 

“And then what? Cleaned our house?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Dad he didn’t just clean. It looks like it’s new,” chimed in Chris. Eddie raised his eyebrows. 

“Did you even leave?” 

Buck flushed.

— 

Eddie was losing his mind. This was the most ridiculous past two days of his life and he just wanted to go inside, tell Buck how he felt, for real this time, and put everything else to the side. Instead, he was faced with a barely coherent Buck, a sassy teenager, and apparently, a Pod full of the entirety of his belongings. 

“Did you even leave?” he asked, but Eddie was pretty sure he knew the answer before Buck managed to stutter it out. 

“I, uh. I got the Jeep. And um, bought - bought some cleaning stuff.” Eddie took a deep breath. Ran his hand over his face. Peeked at Buck between his fingers. Then he reached out and plucked the keys out of the ignition. 

“Inside. We’re all going inside,” he ordered. Chris shrugged, then walked far enough away from the door that Eddie could open it and get out. Buck hadn’t moved, but Eddie wasn’t concerned. He’d taken the keys for a reason. He motioned for Chris to go inside, then stomped over to the driver's side, crossing his arms and looking at Buck through the window. When the man refused to look over at him, he popped open the door, got in his space, and dragged him out. Buck cooperated enough to allow himself to be led to the front door, but Eddie didn’t let go of him until he’d pushed him through the doorway, where he paused. All that was left in the house was the couch. He laughed. 

“You left the couch.”

Buck stood awkwardly to the side. “I couldn’t move it on my own,” he explained. “Figured the property manager would deal with it. When you called him. To pick up the Pod…” 

Eddie huffed. “Let me get this straight. You woke up. Loaded the pod. That had to have taken you all day!” Buck nodded. “Then you, what? Slept on the couch and decided to channel some fifties housewife and clean the place til sparkled?” He’d really done an impressive job, Eddie thought. He didn’t think the place had been this clean when he’d moved in. He was unsurprised when Buck nodded again. Eddie sighed, then gently grasped Buck’s arm and led him to the couch. Buck sat without argument, but Eddie narrowed his eyes when he noticed that the other man was shaking. He looked him over. He was trembling. And Eddie knew how Buck got when he was hyperfocused on something, especially something emotional. 

“Buck, when’s the last time you ate?

Buck looked up at Eddie, frowning. “Um. I think I had some granola bars,” he began. Eddie sighed. This whole situation was… god. 

“Okay. Okay. Hold on.” Eddie rushed back outside and ran to Buck’s Jeep. He grabbed the loaf where he’d left it on the dash. Then he went to his truck and retrieved a charger and the Switch, which Chris had played for part of the drive. He rushed back up the steps to find both Chris and Buck where he’d left them. 

“Here.” He put the loaf and the bag on the floor next to the couch, then handed Chris the phone charger and his Switch, and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulled out a card and handed that to Chris too. “Can you go hang out in your room for a bit, bud? Order us some pizza?” 

Chris raised his eyebrows. “There’s no furniture.” Eddie sighed. Looked around. He grabbed the two couch cushions not currently occupied by Buck and marched towards the back of the house. 

“Come on,” he said, listening as Chris followed. 

“I need a few minutes with him, okay?” Chris smirked and Eddie chuckled. He leaned one of the cushions against the wall of Christopher’s room, and the other in front of it on the ground; a makeshift chair. Chris flopped down, setting the electronics next to him. 

“Order some pizza, for real,” Eddie continued. “Hopefully by the time it’s here, Buck will be…” 

“Uh, less broken?” Chris finished for him. 

Eddie grunted. “Just order the pizza, please, bud,” he repeated, and shook his head again, then headed back out to the hallway, shutting the door behind him. 

Buck had spent two days packing his house and cleaning it, surely in some sort of twisted penance. Buck lost in his own head was never a good thing. Eddie made his way back to the couch, to Buck, who still hadn’t moved. He slid down on the floor next to the couch, reached out and rested his hand loosely around Bucks ankle. Buck looked down towards him. 

Eddie rifled in the bag beside him, collecting a few mostly clean napkins, then he grabbed the loaf next to him and carefully unwrapped it. He looked up at Buck. Offered him a chunk of the bread on a napkin. 

“Loaf?” 

Chapter Text

Eyes blinking rapidly, Buck took the bread being handed to him. 

“I, uh. I thought I left this in the - the rideshare.”

“You did. The driver gave it to me before he left. Do you remember showing up here?”

Buck blushed. Rubbed the back of his neck. “Unfortunately.” Then he laughed “Wait, what was with the curtain rod?” 

“Dude, I thought you were someone breaking in. The driver thought you were breaking in. It was the first thing I grabbed.”

“Well, um. Glad you looked first.” Buck knew the damage Eddie could do with something like that. He kept rubbing his neck, then ate another bite. 

The loaf was on the verge of dry. Buck had baked it before their shift - three or four days ago, maybe? Time was befuddling. There was before, and there was after. Before he’d gotten drunk and turned his life upside down. Or maybe right side up? And now there was After… 

“Go on, eat more.”

Buck looked down, realized he only taken one bite. Time was syrupy and Eddie was too silent. It made Buck squirm. He wasn’t used to not knowing how to talk to Eddie. He stared down at the chunk of loaf in his hand. 

“Are you gonna eat some? I. Uh. I made it for you.”

Eddie shook his head. Buck frowned. 

“Buck. Eat.”

Buck took another bite, contemplating. The loaf had traveled from his house to the club. To Eddie’s, then to Texas. And now it was back. The loaf was dry. Buck ate it anyways, the lemon flavor mellow on his tongue. 

Eddie was staring at Buck intently. Buck stared back. A sort of flutter stirred in his chest. Buck continued eating, ignoring it for now, just in case he had been hearing things. 

Eddie opened his mouth as if to speak. Buck choked down the bite he’d just taken, held up a hand. He had to know.

“You were going to move.” 

Eddie nodded.

“Why? Why, if…”

Eddie looked down. “I didn’t think you would ever…”

“So you were just going to leave?!”

“Only for a while,” Eddie looked down at his hands. “My plan was to move there for a little while, convince Chris to come back, then move back once the tenants left. That’s why I was trying to sublet, instead of breaking my lease”. 

Buck continued chewing slowly. He knew this part. But -  “If that was your original plan, what’s… all this?” He waved his hand towards the back of the house. 

“You kinda changed things.” Eddie was smiling. Buck smiled back, unthinking, for a moment. Then his face fell. He changed things by being a drunk idiot. 

“Stop that.”

Buck looked down at Eddie, who was holding a finger out at him. 

“Stop thinking. You’ve obviously been doing a lot of that, and not the good kind.” Eddie frowned. “Just listen, okay?” Eddie took a deep breath. 

“When you came out, I was jealous. But, I wasn’t jealous of Tommy. Not yet. I was later, but first I was jealous at how… I dunno. How easy it was. For you.” He sighed, and Buck opened his mouth, but Eddie shook his head. Closed his eyes. When he opened them, Eddie met Buck’s gaze.

“I’m gay.”

Buck choked on a piece of bread. 

“Jesus. Buck, oh my god,” Eddie lurched towards Buck, hovering over him on the couch as he coughed, then swallowed. 

Then he swallowed again. Eddie was gay. Eddie loved him and was gay. Eddie, who was gay and loved him, had one hand on either side of his head, pressing against the cushions where he’d half fallen trying to help Buck. Buck closed his eyes. This was just too much. The emotional whiplash of the last hour was catching up to him, warring with the bursts of hope he couldn’t quite quash. 

And Eddie wasn’t moving.

Eddie looked down at Buck, kept talking, as if Buck wasn’t spiraling. He could feel the warmth from Eddie’s body just inches from his own. 

“I’ve known I was gay for a long time. Like, middle school, maybe. I’ve been talking to Frank about it. He’s the one that made me realize I’m in love with you.”

There were those words again. He kept hearing them. Did that mean they were real? 

“I hope you realize you’re the sole reason for my whole gay crisis thing. I mean, the crisis part. I knew I was gay since I kept checking people out in the baseball locker rooms and even in med tents when I was married, but it wasn’t a, a thing, okay? I was fine. But I spent all damn summer having a stupid gay crisis over your stupid biceps and I hope you’re proud of yourself…”

Buck realized he was staring at Eddie’s clavicle, hovering so close to his lips. He closed his eyes. Opened them. Eddie kept talking. Locker rooms and med tents. Buck’s biceps? Had Eddie seen himself? 

Eddie’s voice was muffled by the ringing in Buck’s ears. Buck could hear Eddie’s emotions, the cadence and tone. He could feel Eddie’s breath on his skin. He closed his eyes again, basking. Then Buck felt Eddie’s arms shift beside him, and his eyes flew open. 

Eddie had begun to withdraw, stand up. Buck’s arm shot out, like it had a mind of his own. “Don’t”. He cut Eddie’s explanation short. Let his arm encircle Eddie’s forearm. “Don’t go.” He could feel a blush begin to travel down his neck. He risked a peek at Eddie’s face and felt the blush travel further. The warmth in his eyes was… life changing. 

Why was he still talking? Eddie loved him. Eddie came home to him. With Chris. Eddie loved Buck and Buck loved Eddie and Eddie was right there. Why was he talking. Buck’s breath rattled.

“Eddie…” he barely recognized his own voice. Breathy, in awe.

Eddie inhaled sharply as he looked down at Buck. 

“Buck.” 

“Why are you still talking?”

“Is there something else you’d rather I do?” was the coy response. 

Buck couldn’t even lie. Not to Eddie.

“Yes.” 

He closed his eyes again. Opened them. Looked up at Eddie, who had crept closer, this time. 

“Please.” 

Please please please. It wouldn’t be real unless - 

Eddie fell forward, landing in Bucks lap, chest to chest. Buck could feel Eddie’s heart racing against his own. One of Eddie’s knees wedged between Buck and the armrest. The other was oddly balanced where there should have been a cushion, half in a crouch. But neither man cared. 

“Okay,” Eddie whispered, before bringing his lips to Buck’s.

All of the air left Buck’s lungs at once. He wrapped one arm around Eddie’s back, clutched one in his hair, holding him in place. Eddie curled his arms around Bucks neck, letting him take his weight. His lips were soft against Buck’s. Moving slowly, molding their mouths together, savoring it. 

Buck was reeling. This was intoxicating. Buck had imagined this, wished for this, his thoughts colored with shame and shame and shame. 

But now? Eddie had kissed him. Eddie loved him. Buck was never talking again. Eddie was never talking again. 

Eddie’s mouth parted and Buck moaned softly, pulled the other man closer, slipped his tongue beside Eddie’s. Why talk when they could do this instead? 

“Oh my GOD!”

Buck lurched, sputtered. Oh. That was why. 

—

The couch cushions were surprisingly comfy like this, laid out on the floor. It reminded Chris of when he was younger, when he and dad and Buck had played the floor is lava as a way to make PT fun. 

They were always good at that, making sure that Chris could still have fun. Chris hadn’t missed the difference between how his dad treated him over the last couple days, compared to how his grandparents had acted for the past couple months. It was a weight off of his chest, being treated like he could actually do things, even something as stupid as getting out of a car. Not that he’d be admitting that any time soon. 

No. He was still mad about the entire situation. He was mad at himself, too, but he wouldn’t be admitting that, either. Right now he could focus being mad at dad, because he’d obviously screwed up something. Buck hadn’t looked so broken since… well. There were a lot of times, but Eddie and Chris usually fixed it. Buck got really stuck on stuff in his head and Chris had to admit Eddie was good at fixing Buck’s feelings. Just - not out loud. 

Chris wiggled, resting his shoulder blades on the cushion behind him, then picked up his phone and hunted for their favorite pizza place. He ordered three extra large pizzas, cheesy bread, wings, some cinnamon things, a couple cokes and some bottled water. Sink water was gross. He made sure to click the box to get plates and cups and stuff because Buck had put all their things in a Pod. Ugh. 

He couldn’t believe dad was gonna move and come to El Paso for him. He’d spent the past months seeing first hand why they never visited. Chris never wanted to go back. His grandparents were stupid and loud and said shitty things. 

Pizza ordered, he contemplated ordering a game or two with the card dad had given him, just to mess around, but decided he could push dads buttons later. When Chris at least had a bed again. Instead, he turned on his Switch, texted back Denny and a couple other friends, and zoned out, playing his game until his phone pinged with a notification. Pizza! 

Frowning, Chris realized they’d left his crutches in the truck. He looked around, then scooted forward, resting his weight on the cushion on the ground, and grabbed the one against the wall out from behind him. Chris shoved that one towards the closet door, then scooted his way over to it. He kneeled on the cushion carefully, then grasped the closet door knob with one hand and braced his other on the wall, levering himself upright. 

Ha! Take that, Abuela. 

Chris shuffled his way out his room and into the hall. Buck and Dad were suspiciously quiet. 

He turned the corner to the living room and promptly gagged. 

“Oh my GOD!”

Oh my god oh my god. This was so gross. He thought they were going to talk. Not crawl on each other's laps and shove their tongues down each other's throats. They wrenched apart on the couch at Chris’s yelling. Good!

“You guys are gross. That’s so disgusting. On the couch?!!” His voice squeaked a little. 

Both men blushed. Buck was sputtering; Dad seemed to have forgotten how to talk. He tried to get off of Buck but he wobbled a bit, and Buck caught him, brought him close again. 

Nope nope nope. 

Chris covered his eyes with his hand. That was better. “If you guys are done, the pizza will be here in, like, three minutes.”

“You couldn’t have waited two more?”’ Bucks voice was breathy.

“Buck!!” 

Chris blinked, his voice echoing. He realized his dad had scolded Buck at the exact same time. He giggled. Chris had never seen his dad blush this bad. And now Buck was blushing too. It was kinda cute. Except, like, also super gross. 

“If you two are done being gross, can one of you come get the cushions so we eat on the couch?” Chris raised his eyebrows as his dad got up and approached him. Hmm. Maybe he could have fun with this. 

“Nope, not you. You were being the most gross. You can go get my crutches. Please.” Eddie blinked at him, but turned towards the couch and grabbed his keys off the floor before heading out the door. 

“Buck?” Chris asked, trying to act stern. Buck tucked his head down and headed where Chris was pointing to. He disappeared for a moment before reappearing with both cushions. He refused to meet Chris’ eye. Oh this was fun. 

Buck finished rearranging the couch cushions just as dad walked back in the door, crutches in one hand and a bag with cokes and stuff in the other. 

“Pizza’s here!” He was doing that thing with his voice when he didn’t want Chris to know something grown-up was going on. Chris rolled his eyes as his dad set the bag on the island and went back to the door to grab the rest.

“Jeez, Chris, how much did you order?” Eddie frowned down at the stack of boxes in his arms.

“Enough,” Chris explained curtly.

Buck walked toward the front door to sign the receipt. He closed the door, then headed to the kitchen and started pulling out plates and napkins like they’d done dozens of times before. Chris noticed he stole a breadstick, too, scarfing it down in like, three bites. Eddie arranged the boxes on the counter, peeking in each one as he did so. 

“So, uhh, Chris. You’re - you’re home for good?” Buck's voice was kinda funny, like he was still embarrassed, but Chris decided to ignore it. 

“Yes! I’m never going back.” 

Chris made his way to the couch, pizza in hand, and sat down in the middle cushion, looking deliberately at his dad, who had followed with his own plate. Chris stared at him pointedly, raising his eyebrows. 

“No way I’m letting you guys sit next to each other,” he explained with a shudder. 

“Chris!” 

Buck laughed in the background. 

“What, dad? It’s gross! We’re gonna have to come up with some rules.”

Buck laughed harder as Eddie frowned, sitting next to his son. 

“You said you were okay with…”

“Uh, yeah, I’m okay with you guys being boyfriends or whatever but, like, not where I can see you shoving your tongue down his throat, okay?!! And not on the couch, oh my god dad.” Chris shuddered. Eddie flushed again as Buck joined them on the couch. 

Oh yeah. He could work with this. He chuckled, then took a giant bite of pizza. 

He settled back in the cushions as he ate, and let Buck start talking, first anxiously, then casually. Buck flitted from topic to topic; oarfish and barbecues, babies and bake sales, and the new museum exhibit. Chris and Eddie chimed in from time to time.

After a while, he noticed the loaf, half eaten, wrapped haphazardly in its foil by Dad’s feet. He nudged Eddie’s shoulder, looked down. Eddie blinked a few times, then reached down to grab it, holding it in his hands like it was something precious. 

Chris smiled, took the package in his hand, grabbed two chunks, and handed them to his dads beside him. The cinnamon thing could wait. 

“Loaf?”

His dad and Buck both chuckled, taking the bread from Chris. Chris joined them, choosing a piece for himself. It felt good, like he’d never left. And he was never gonna leave again.

Chapter Text

The bedroom door clicked quietly as Eddie pushed it closed behind him. Buck stood before him, looking at the room they’d set up. They had unloaded the Pod just enough to get by for the night. Eddie’s room held a mattress, with a blanket as a sheet and another thrown over it. They had added two pillows with mismatched pillow cases, and a box of clothing with a lamp on top.

Chris’ room looked similar, but they’d taken the time to put his bed back together. Chris had gone to his room a while ago. Buck had taken a quick shower while Eddie cleaned up the living room. They’d locked up in silence, together, a well worn routine.

Only before, Buck would have crashed on the couch. Now, he was in Eddie’s room, wearing a borrowed pair of too-small pajama pants and no shirt. Eddie let himself look at the muscles in Buck’s back. The curl of his hair, freshly washed. He could look now. Eddie felt warm. He could touch now.

Eddie held his breath as Buck turned around. He swallowed hard as he made eye contact with the man he loved. Buck’s eyes were dark, heavy. Eddie shuddered, and Buck pounced.

Eddie’s back hit the door, one of Buck's hands cradled around his head. He craned his neck up towards Buck’s waiting mouth, crashed their lips together. Let himself be, let himself be devoured. Nothing had ever felt like this before, not even with Shannon, fueled by teenage hormones and shitty beer. Nothing had felt so right.

Eddie let his hands wander across Buck’s exposed skin. The warmth, the strength beneath his palms was a heady thing. His own shirt was suddenly a nuisance, and he drew back from Buck, their lips making a clicking sound as they separated.

Buck opened his mouth, looked concerned, but Eddie shushed him, shrugged off his shirt. Threw it - somewhere. He was rewarded by Buck closing his eyes, opening them again. He stared at Eddie in… almost in wonder. Eddie grinned, and reached for him again, caressing his tongue with his own.

Buck’s hands became frenzied, running up Eddie’s torso as they traded breath. Buck's grazed a nipple and Eddie’s breath hitched into an almost-moan, muffled by Buck’s mouth. Buck inhaled sharply at the sound, clutched Eddie tighter to him, then flipped them around and half shoved, half guided Eddie to the mattress on the floor.

Eddie scooted back on his elbows as Buck dropped down on his knees on the mattress. He climbed over Eddie’s body. Eddie met Bucks gaze, silently giving permission, as Buck sunk down on top of him, pinning Eddie with all of his hard-earned muscles.

Eddie’s vision was swimming. He couldn’t catch his breath, air clicking in his throat each time he inhaled, couldn’t keep his eyes open. It was so much, too much. Just enough. Buck braced his forearms on each side of Eddie’s face and Eddie arched back, searching blindly for Buck's lips.

Buck took Eddie’s bottom lip between his teeth and at the same ground his body deliberately against Eddie’s, separated only by a couple thin pieces of fabric. Eddie cried out sharply at the sensation, senses overloaded. Nothing, nothing had ever felt as right as Buck pinning him like this, rolling his hips. Eddie’s arm flailed uncontrollably out to the side. His fist thumped the box being used as a table, and the lamp crashed onto the hard floor.

Both men froze, waiting -

“Agghhhh!” Chris yelled from the room next door. “Go to sleep and quit being gross!” His voice echoed in the empty house.

Eddie clutched at Buck and both men burst out laughing.

“Oh my god it’s not funny! We need a bigger house!”

Buck rolled off of Eddie to lay beside him, still laughing and holding each other. They heard Chris groan out one last overly dramatic complaint.

Their laughter faded out naturally, but their grins remained.

“I thought you’d be better at being quiet, what with the whole having a kid thing,” Buck teased.

Eddie felt himself flush, a rush of heat following as he watched Bucks eyes follow the color from his face down to his chest. Eddie cleared his throat.

“Yeah, well…” he ducked his head down. How did he say this out loud? It somehow felt more intimate than what they’d been doing before being interrupted. He peeked back at Buck, who was waiting patiently for him to continue.

“I, uh. I’ve never…”

Buck raised his eyebrows.

Eddie closed his eyes. Took a deep breath, tucked his face under Buck’s chin.

“I’ve never felt… like that. Everything. Uh. Sex, and all that. It was...I dunno. Just something - something I was supposed to do,” he confessed. “It never felt… right.”

—-

Chris’ interruption cleared Buck’s head for a minute, and as he and Eddie laid together laughing, he could suddenly think. With his brain, this time.

He needed to do this right. He didn’t want to just fall in bed with Eddie. Well, he did but… he needed to say something first.

He teased Eddie for a moment, to buy himself more time to gather his thoughts. He watched the flush on Eddie’s cheeks travel further down before making space for Eddie to curl into him, his face tucked under Bucks’s chin.

Eddie’s confession was heartbreaking. Buck had had sex he didn’t want to have before. He knew he had unhealthy coping mechanisms. But to hear that Eddie felt like he had to, well, perform, for his entire life? Buck was determined to change that. But not yet.

Buck adjusted his body, bringing Eddie closer with an arm around his shoulders, held on tightly for a moment.

“Eddie…” He took a deep breath. He was going to do this right. The past two days were a fog of overthinking and self-hatred and self-pity, when Eddie was just trying to put their family back together. Their family. He took a shuddering breath, supported himself on one elbow so he could look down at where Eddie laid beside him. He reached out with his other hand, palm caressing Eddie’s cheek as he opened his eyes and met Buck’s gaze.

“Eddie, I love you.” His shoulders shuddered, too much emotion to contain. He grinned. “I love you. And I never meant for you to find out, like that. But.” He shrugged, moved forward to place a chaste kiss on Eddie’s lips and savored the look on the other man’s face.

“I love you. And we’ll never do any - anything that doesn’t feel right.” He kissed Eddie again, just because he could. Eddie leaned into his touch for a moment before putting a few inches between their bodies.

“I love you, Buck. And not because Chris or Frank or anyone else says so. I, uh.” Eddie blushed again, and Buck didn’t think he would ever get tired of seeing it. Eddie cleared his throat. “I’m kinda glad you told me that way, because I’ve been waiting so long. I, uh, I just thought I was dumb, falling in love with you when you could have anyone and I’m just a -” Buck placed his hand on Eddie’s mouth. They’d both done enough self-flagellation over the past few days. He chuckled to himself. They were so dumb. He decided to tell Eddie so.

“We’re so dumb.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, but shrugged his shoulders in response.

“But you’re not ‘just’ anything.” Buck’s voice was stern, but he curled his body back towards Eddie, letting himself enjoy the warmth of his body. They laid in companionable silence for a few minutes, before Eddie shifted.

“Buck, what were you doing out back?”

Buck was the one to break eye contact, this time. He sighed.

“Hiding my key. It’s under the window,” he explained to the ceiling.

Eddie scoffed, shook his head. “Buck. I could never make you leave. Not even if I didn’t already feel the same. You’re my family. Our family. And not just because of the 118…”

Buck jolted. “Oh my god. They all know!”

Eddie nodded. “According to Chris, yes. They’re going to give us so much shit.”

Buck groaned. “Why didn’t they just… I dunno. Tell us!”

Eddied laughed. “Do you think we would have listened?”

“Probably not,” he conceded, shaking his head.

“I wish I would have stuck around to listen to you, save you from moving shit and cleaning.” Eddie’s voice was apologetic.

Buck shook his head. “This worked. It’s stupid, it’s crazy, kind of fits, yeah?” Eddie smiled. Buck continued. “But, tell me about Chris. How did you get him back?”

Eddie and Buck talked softly amongst themselves into the night. Eddie told him about therapy with Frank, the drive there, getting to Chris’s school. He told Buck about coming out to his parents as one last hurrah, and driving home. Chris’ wisdom and understanding.

Buck told him about how he was falling apart watching Eddie get ready to leave. About waking up alone, getting lost in his head. Cleaning. Not being able to leave.

Eddie kissed him, at that. “Don’t ever leave,” he whispered into Buck’s lips. Buck sighed, pulled Eddie on top of him, kissed him until neither of them were thinking of talking anymore. Buck couldn’t resist, was so intoxicated by the feel of Eddie above him.

“Can you be quiet?” he pleaded.

Eddie shuddered above him. Nodded. “So quiet,” Eddie gasped.

Buck smirked and rolled them over. Challenge accepted.

Chapter Text

The brakes squeaked a bit when Hen turned onto Eddie’s street the next morning. Hm. She knew she’d forgotten something. But hey, at least she hadn’t forgotten to show up to work, like Buck had. Hen was annoyed at first, but now she, Bobby, and Chim were concerned. They’d needed to take the station off-line to go hunt for Buck, who had never turned up that morning. Hen frowned. She knew Buck was having a hard time with Eddie leaving, but he had yet to do something this reckless (at least, lately), and he wasn’t at the loft. She approached Eddie’s house, looking for parking. Hopefully Eddie had heard from him. Then she blinked. Well, that worked too. 

Buck’s Jeep and Eddie’s truck were parked one after each other, partially blocking the driveway, which was taken over by a large Pod. Hmm. Neither of them had been answering their phones that morning, and she hadn’t thought to get Chris’ number from Denny before sending her son off to school.  Hen parked a few houses down then approached the house. 

She could see Chris through the window, lounging on their couch. A wide grin overtook her features. She knew the boy was back from Texas. Denny had nearly screeched her and Karen’s ears off when he’d found out; the months without his friend had weighed heavy on her son. It had taken no small amount of negotiating and chaos management to get him to settle down and agree to wait until Chris and Eddie reached out with a time to meet up, as she was sure they would. But, knowing and seeing were two different things. She sped up a bit and got to the door just as it swung open to reveal the boy in person.

“Chris!” She reached out and enveloped him in a hug. “It’s good to see you! We missed you!” 

“Missed you guys too,” Chris said softly, flopping back on the couch. “What’s up?” 

Hen frowned. “Is Buck here? He’s not answering his phone and he was due for a shift this morning.” Chris’s eyes widened and he glanced at the hallway behind him before clearing his throat. 

“Uh. Um, yeah. He’s here.” He did not offer further explanation. Hen narrowed her eyes. If Chris was in the living room... She looked sharply towards the hallway. She couldn’t hear anyone in the bathroom. She began to turn back to Chris, then quickly turned back to the hall when she caught motion out of the corner of her eye. 

Eddie’s bedroom door opened and Eddie stepped out, wearing pajama bottoms and no shirt. 

“Morning -” he began, before choking on his words as he saw Hen standing in his living room. Eddie only met her gaze for a moment before he squeaked, then ran back into his room and slammed the door. 

Hen turned towards Chris, eyes narrowed. 

“Want to tell me why your dad is acting weird?” 

—

Waking up tangled with Buck was an experience Eddie wanted to repeat every day for the rest of his life. Sure, they’d shared a bed before, but this was something else entirely. Their feet were entangled beneath the blanket, and Buck was laying half on top of him, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving again. Eddie loved it. But he really had to pee. 

He nudged Buck to get the man to relinquish his hold enough for Eddie to wiggle to the edge of the bed. Buck rolled over, still mostly asleep, and smooshed his face into the pillow with no pillow case. They had, indeed, found ways to stay quiet last night. Eddie felt his entire body shiver, remembering. And if anyone wanted to make a comment as to where the (totally not shoved under the mattress) missing pillow case was, well. Embarrassment was the price for being nosy. 

Eddie cleared his throat and stretched. Pee first, think later. He grinned, then turned the knob and entered the hallway, calling out to Chris as he turned towards the living room. He’d heard him clack his way down the hall not too long before. 

“Morning…” The words died in his throat. Hen was there, staring at him with an entirely too knowing gaze. Eddie squeaked. Ran. The door slammed behind him and Buck jolted awake. 

“Eds?” 

“Shh!!!!” Eddie lept on the mattress and covered Buck’s mouth with his palm. 

Buck leered, wagging his eyebrows, thinking of a similar position they’d been in a few hours before. 

“No! Not now. Hen is here” he hissed. 

Buck blinked. Nudged at the hand on his mouth. Eddie removed his hand so Buck could speak. 

“Hen? Oh shit. Fuck. What day is it?!” 

“Thursday?” 

Buck groaned and threw his feet over the side of the mattress, hunting for his phone through the mess of blankets and discarded clothing. Finding it, he gasped at the time. “I’m late for my shift!” 

—

Chris was excited to see Hen up until he could see her starting to think. Okay. Okay he could handle this. He pushed himself upright and was scrambling for a plan when dad had to go and ruin it. After Eddie had disappeared back into the bedroom, Hen narrowed her eyes and turned to Chris and he gulped. She waited a minute before finally speaking up, while Chris tapped his foot. 

“Want to tell me why your dad is acting weird?” 

Oh. That was an easy question. Honestly, Hen should have known better. 

“No.”

Hen turned her parent look on Chris. Chris squirmed. That wasn’t fair. She wasn’t even his parent. He bit his lip. He didn’t want to out his dad. Dad had said only Frank, Chris, and his grandparents knew.  Oh. And uh, Buck. Buck knew. He scrunched his nose at the memory of them on the couch. 

Hen raised an eyebrow. 

“Do you know why your dad is acting weird?”

Sigh. Maybe if she kept with the yes or no questions he could drag this out a bit more. 

“Yes.”

Hen narrowed her eyes. Chris looked down. Maybe if he didn’t make eye contact the look wouldn’t work. 

“But you’re not going to tell me.”

“Nope.” He stared harder at the floor.

Hen Cleared her throat. “What time did you guys get in town?” Her voice was casual, had lost all of its authority. 

Chris blinked. Was this a trap? 

“Um, like six or something? Dinner time…”

“Was Buck already here?”

Ah. Definitely a trap. “Uhhh yes?”

“Hm.” 

Chris risked a peek when Hen didn’t ask another question. She stood at her full height, uniform neat from shirt to boots, observing the room around her. He watched as she clocked an empty pizza box, trash shoved in a gas station bag. And nothing else in the house except the couch. 

“I thought you weren’t moving?” Her voice startled him.

“Nope.”

“Then where’s all your stuff? 

Chris blinked. “Uhh, in the Pod.”

“But you’re not moving?”

He signed. “It’s a long story.”

“Uh huh. I’ve got time.” She tapped her boot on the wooden floor. Looked at Chris expectedly. 

He squirmed in his seat. What was he supposed to say? 

Chris was saved from having to answer by the bedroom door opening again. They both swung around to see Buck step out, also shirtless. Ugh.

“Morning Hen!” Buck chimed jovially. He grinned at them widely. Chris looked away, embarrassed, remembering. 

He looked up as Hen coughed and stepped between him and Buck.

“Go put on a shirt, Buckley!”

Chris peered around Hen just enough to see a shirt fly from the open doorway towards Buck, who caught it one handed, then turned around with a smile and made his way to the bathroom. 

He heard a groan from his dad, still in his room, and Hen burst out laughing. 

—-

The bliss at waking up with Eddie pinning him to the bed with a palm on his mouth was quickly shattered by the realization that he was late for his shift. He started to scramble around, found himself some pants, and shimmied into them as he made for the door to run to the restroom. Damn. He’d have to stop at the loft on his way home for a uniform… 

Eddie stepped between him and the door, pale. 

“You can’t go out there!” Eddie hissed.

Buck blinked. Oh. Right. Hen. Buck sighed. They hadn’t really talked about this part. 

“Eddie…” he cleared his throat. “Eddie. I told you. Nothing that doesn’t feel right. Okay?” He reached out, pulled Eddie into his arms. “I’ll go out the window if you want me to. I’ll hide in the closet. Whatever you want.”

“Chris probably already told her you’re here,” Eddie murmured into his chest. 

“So we’ll say I left earlier and Chris didn’t know I’d gone.” Buck shrugged. “I’m not going to out you to them. You don’t have to tell them anything. Not until you’re ready,” he soothed.

Eddie burrowed deepening into his arms. “I, uh.” He cleared his throat. Took a deep breath. “I don’t want to hide. I’m done hiding. And I wouldn’t do that to you. I just… I didn’t think we’d be having the conversation so soon. I don’t know what to say…”

Buck hummed, thinking. 

“Well, what if you didn’t have to say anything?” He grinned, forming a plan. “I think you said plenty last night.” He pulled back far enough for Eddie to see the marks scattered over Buck's clavicle, pecs, even one near his belly button. Buck smirked and . Eddie blushed, then hid his face in Buck's shoulder again. “I’ll just walk out shirtless, say hello, she’ll come to her own conclusions and let it be.”

“Oh my god. But Chris is out there!”

“Chris isn’t gonna want to look me in the eye, not after the whole lamp thing. And besides. Hen is a parent. She won’t let him see.” 

Eddie groaned.

“Nothing to be embarrassed of, babe,” Buck grinned. “We’re both adults. Besides - it’s hot.” His grin widened.

Eddie sighed, laughing fondly. “Ugh, fine. Anything as long as we don’t have to talk.”

Bucks grin spread wider. He handed Eddie a shirt. 

“Have that ready.”

He swung open the door, strutted out into the hall and called out to Hen.

“Morning Hen!” He stretched, showing off his chest. As expected, she sputtered, put herself between Chris and Buck and yelled at him to put on a shirt. As he grabbed the shirt that Eddie threw at him and turned away from Hen, his shoulders shook, mirroring Hen’s laughter.

—-

Hen chuckled to herself as she made her way back to her car. Buck’s display was both hilarious and made her shudder in disgust. Those two were going to require extra supervision at work, she thought, shaking her head. Who knew Eddie would be so… mouthy. She pursed her mouth, trying to unsee what she’d seen. 

At lest the boys seemed to have figured it out. It was a long time coming. Buck had coaxed Eddie out into the living room after a few minutes and they’d chatted for a while, neither man straying further than a couple feet away from the other. After a bit, Hen decided to take care of the business she’d come over for. 

“You coming in today?”  

“No.” Eddie answered for Buck. “I need him.”

The man flushed so deeply once he heard his own words that she almost burst out into laughter again. She cleared her throat, raised an eyebrow.

“I need him to unload the Pod!” Eddie burst out. Buck was still silent, hovering. 

Hen hummed. “Alright. I’ll take care of it with Cap, okay? But answer your phones!”

Both men nodded, and Chris scoffed, which Hen found interesting. She shrugged, and let herself out, glancing behind to see the little family standing close. 

She smiled softly and pulled up Cap on her phone. 

“Found him!”

“Is he okay?” Bobby’s voice was worried, soft.

Hen laughed. “Oh, I’d say so. But, see if we can get a replacement for him today. I found him at Eddie’s.”

“At Eddie’s?”

“Yup!”

Bobby sighed. “Ah. I…Do I need to print out some paperwork?”

“Not saying a word!” was Hen’s reply, but her joyful laughter was the only answer he needed. 

—-

Later, after they’d dropped off Chris to spend time with Pepa, after they’d taken twice as long as they should have to unload the Pod due to getting distracted, Eddie curled on his mattress with his head on Bucks’s shoulder for the third time that day. 

Soon they’d have to shower, get dressed, go get Chris. Soon Buck would go back to work. Eddie would have to talk to Cap about getting his job back, and probably do some extra paperwork. They’d have to talk to the property manager and re-enroll Chris in school and cancel the lease in Texas. But for now, he let himself have this moment. 

Eddie shifted, molding himself closer to Buck as Buck ran his hands down his shoulders to his ass, then up again. 

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Eds.” Buck whispered back.

Eddie closed his eyes, breathed deeply, let himself feel. He never wanted to let this feeling go. There would be no more hiding, no more shame, no more stress baking or pining like idiots. He could have this, here, with Buck. It was allowed. And it was everything he’d ever wanted.