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The nightly call comes in three minutes early and jolts Eddie out of his post-dinner nap with a gentle buzz of anticipation. They’ve talked like this almost every day since the move but the thrill never wears. Eddie joins the call as quick as it comes in, wiping away the few final indications of sleep left on his face.
“Hey”, Eddie starts. The sentiment is short-lived, though, because Buck’s words come in just as quick and much more desperately.
“Why did you stop talking to Tommy?”
The question perfumes the air with an illogical amount of accusation and forces a shocked laugh out of Eddie.
“What?”, Eddie asks.
“Why did you stop talking to Tommy?”, Buck repeats.
His hands are folded across his stomach in a way that accentuates the sheer size of his upper arms. It’s a distraction perfectly welcome, Eddie thinks.
“Well, Buck”, Eddie starts. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I moved… to Texas. I can’t keep up with every person I've ever known in LA.”
“That’s not what I mean”, Buck pouts. His brow is furrowed with a hazy mix of desperation and stress. The plain, amused look on Eddie’s face makes him wonder if this is just another overreaction. Too soon to tell, he decides.
“Well, then, what are you getting at?”
“Why did you stop talking to Tommy… right after we broke up?”
The question carries exceptional weight. To Buck, at least. By the look on Eddie’s face, the question is about as complex as tying his shoelaces in the morning.
“Oh”, Eddie begins simply.
“Because I wanted to.”
A casual shrug drops from his shoulders and Buck dismisses it with a dramatic hand in the air.
“What? B..but you guys were good friends! Why would you do that?”
Buck leans forward, further into Eddie’s space. Eddie feels the heat radiating off of Buck. That, or just his laptop fighting to process Buck’s every reaction in real-time. Nevertheless, the room is considerably warmer.
Eddie thinks a virtual conversation has never felt so intimate.
“Well, I didn’t really want to buddy up to a guy who just broke your heart”, he answers sincerely.
“Just felt like common sense to me..”
The answer is succinct and favorable, but Buck tilts his head deeper in confusion anyways. Eddie wonders if his brow, or his shoulders for that matter, have ever known a single moment of pure relaxation. Unlikely.
“But why would you do that?”, Buck presses. “I didn’t tell you to do that!”
The guffaw that leaves Eddie’s body is jarring, both to himself and to Buck. He supposes the overreactions have become contagious.
“Why would you? I did it because I wanted to, not out of some fear that you’d burn me at the stake if I didn’t.”
Eddie lets the absurdity of the moment fall lightly across his shoulders, letting the shadows of a smile form on his face. He softens at the sight of Buck’s face mimicking his own. It’s quick to fade, but Eddie holds on to the mental image of it just a little longer.
Buck repositions himself on the couch and brings his hands together in a ball, twisting them further into one another in deep thought.
“I don't understand…”, he whispers. He’s smaller now, and a little remorseful. The sight of him settles in Eddie’s stomach like a rock.
“Hey”, Eddie offers, with the weight of a million reassurances.
“There’s nothing to not get about this, Buck. This guy leaves your life, so he leaves mine. Besides, its not like my happiness or well-being relied upon him.”
His eyes shift focus to Buck’s, hoping beyond all hope a little ribbing is welcome, given the circumstances. Sure enough, a shy smile returns to Buck’s face.
“Yeah, mine either”, Buck quips, quicker than he means to. Eddie’s widened eyes are indication enough that he’s stepped into the deep end again without a second thought in his mind.
“Oh?”, Eddie inquires.
“I don’t know, sorry…”
Buck’s eyes shift down to his intertwined hands and wills them apart. Instead, he runs them back-and-forth along the length of his thighs. The jeans burn an uncomfortable warmth across both palms within seconds. He distracts himself with the unfamiliar sensation as long as he can muster before pressing on.
“It’s weird without you here”, Buck finishes simply.
“So I’ve heard.”
Buck’s mouth falls open with impressive speed. Jealousy twists his tongue into foreign shapes, painting bitterness along the fragile walls of his throat.
“From who?”, Buck questions. A futile attempt at masking his fury elicits a possessive smirk out of Eddie.
“From you? Last week?”
“Oh, right, sorry”, Buck concedes. He contemplates remorse for a brief moment, but settles into the overpowering relief of Eddie’s words instead.
They stay like this for what feels like hours— deflecting eye contact back and forth, and exchanging smitten looks in the sacred space between. The silence is sweet, but limited.
“Are you OK, Buck?”, Eddie asks sweetly. The concern etched along his brow remedies Buck in more ways than one. Gratitude embraces him whole.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
Less tired, more exhausted, he thinks. Still, the feeling’s short-lived in moments like these, with Eddie in his space and on his mind.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you… I unpacked today!”, Buck chirps, happier than ever. His joy infects Eddie’s heart with a sickly-sweet feeling he can’t quite place.
“Unpacked what?”, Eddie asks, through a smile of his own.
“My stuff! Into the house!”
Buck claps his hands together in excitement, sending echoes of joyful noise through Eddie’s computer and straight into his veins. He’d ride the high all day if he could, but he never seems to find the time. Tonight is no exception.
“Buck… it’s been a month. What are you doing?”
If there’s a logical explanation for his actions, Buck has yet to uncover it. Instead, he allows himself the simple pleasure of basking in Eddie’s worry without a care in the world. His smile widens, despite it all.
“—been busy, I guess.”
“With what, exactly?”, Eddie wonders, aloud. He leans into the computer, an eyebrow cocked in the direct of Buck’s every misdirecting scheme. The raise in his voice is ever-so-slight, but undeniable. Buck accepts the challenge and leans in, deeper.
“Oh, you know, just crafting a killer movie night lineup… Notting Hill for me, Rush Hour 2 for you, and, most importantly, Transformers One for Christopher.”
“Mmm, right, well, I’d commend you, but I think you’re probably three years late on that Christopher pick, you know…”
“Well, damn…Can I try again tomorrow? Promise I’ll do better…”
Their knowing smirks add fuel to the fire. They giggle like lovestruck high schoolers, lost in the silly, chaotic joy of total infatuation. Eddie wonders how they ever got like this and Buck wishes it’d never end. Eddie is sure it won’t.
He drops one last knowing look down at Buck, hoping to convey a feeling words can never quite catch.
“Yeah, you better.”