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“And then Maddie said that it wouldn’t be so crazy if I was,” Buck says, voice coming in tinny through the phone. Eddie can hear him moving around, knows he’s put the phone on speaker on the kitchen table – Buck likes taking Eddie’s calls in the kitchen, and the one time Eddie asked him why Buck wasn’t on the couch like he usually is, Buck pulled a face and Eddie promptly decided not to question it further – and is pacing around. At first, when Buck called him for a phone call and not a facetime, Eddie had been confused, but now, he gets it.
He’s kind of glad for it, honestly. Kind of glad that Buck doesn’t see his face right now.
“Like, what does that even mean , you know?” Buck continues, and if Eddie closes his eyes he can just about see Buck’s hands flying into the air before he turns around and walks the other way. “Like, what, just because I like men, that means I like my best friend? I’m not that much of a stereotype, am I?”
“You’re not a stereotype,” Eddie says, because even through the ringing in his ears and the sweaty palms and the, the, the whatever-the-fuck is happening to him right now, he’s still aware enough of his best friend’s tendencies to spiral. Eddie has been there for one too many panic-induced spirals about bisexuality and sleeping around and queer stereotypes to let Buck slide into that kind of thinking.
One spiral. He’s been there for one spiral, and it was awful to see Buck talk down on himself like that. Eddie likes to nip it in the bud if he thinks Buck is headed that way again, and even when he’s entering some kind of spiral himself, his Buck spidey-senses are tingling, and he, well. He grabs the bud and nips it.
“I just don’t get it,” Buck says, and he sounds genuinely upset. “I- I know lots of people fall for their best friend, and it’s not like you’d be awful to date or anything-”
“-thanks, bud,” Eddie says drily, stomping down on the vaguely queasy feeling trying to climb up his throat, because now is not the time.
“-I’m just not in love with you, and I don’t understand why they all think I am.”
Buck sighs loudly. There’s another sound over the phone, harsher than the pacing. It’s a chair scraping over the ground, then Buck dropping down into it, probably slumping over immediately. Eddie can see him, leaning over the table and angled towards his phone, head buried in his arms. He sees it so clearly, it’s as if Buck is sitting at his kitchen table right here in El Paso, except Buck isn’t here and the table is empty and it’s just Eddie and his half-drained phone battery and the night sky, coming in through the windows.
“I’m sorry,” Buck finally says, and oh, there go Eddie’s Buck-senses once more, “this is weird to talk about, right?”
“Not really,” Eddie says, because in spite of what he’s feeling, it honestly isn’t. “People mistake us for a couple all of the time.”
It probably doesn’t help that they refer to each other as partner as frequently as they do. Eddie’s actually started doing that more and more since Buck came out, because he wants to make it very, very clear that he doesn’t have an issue with Buck being bi at all.
This changes nothing between us. He’d meant it, at the time.
“Yeah, but those people usually don’t know us,” Buck says. “Maddie and Tommy do.”
“Are they everyone ?” Eddie asks.
“I guess.” Another sigh. “I don’t know. It just bothers me.”
Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, then through his hair. The strands fall right back down in his face, ungelled as they currently are. He really needs a haircut. He needs a haircut, and he needs to drink more water, because this headache is only, like, 75% stress, and he needs a fucking job, and he needs his son back, and he needs to figure out why the thought of Buck not being in love with him makes him want to throw up the broccoli he had for dinner.
“Well,” he says, when it becomes clear that Buck isn’t going to elaborate, “it doesn’t bother me. We can just forget about it.”
“Yeah,” Buck says, sounding very much like he can’t forget about it. Eddie’s not sure if he can, either. “Yeah, I guess.”
Then, in a tone of voice that’s bright and fake in a way that Eddie usually pokes right through, but lets slide just this once, “hey, it’s late where you are. I should let you go so you can get some sleep.”
“Okay,” Eddie says, and they exchange pleasantries before Buck hangs up the phone.
Eddie is never the one to hang up first. It’s a small thing, maybe, but he wants Buck to be the one to do it. He doesn’t want Buck to think that Eddie doesn’t have time for him, or that he’s getting left again, or whatever. So Eddie stays on the line, and Buck hangs up, and seems to work out alright.
This time, when Buck hangs up, Eddie doesn’t bother reaching for his phone again. He had it on speaker, so he’s not even holding it, and he doesn’t bother checking his texts because he didn’t hear a notification, and anyway, there’s too much ringing in his ears for him to even think about that right now.
Okay.
Time to evaluate.
People think Buck is in love with him. And not just anyone, but Maddie and Tommy. Tommy, the guy Buck’s been dating for six months, and Maddie, his sister. Of all the people in the world, these two are probably the most likely to know something like this.
Well. They’re in the top three, at least.
Because of all people, the most likely one to know who Buck is in love with is Eddie himself.
It’s just what they do. Years ago, they’d promised to have each other’s backs, and since then, they’ve been like this. Buck knows Eddie, and Eddie knows Buck, and somewhere along the way, they became BuckandEddie and they haven’t looked back since.
Eddie knows Buck like he knows the back of his hand. And because of that, he knows that Buck isn’t always the most aware of what exactly he’s feeling and why he’s feeling it. Eddie, on the other hand, has learned to read him. So that’s what he does: he looks back at their interactions, their friendship, and he reads.
And the more he thinks about it, the more he flips the Buck-filled pages of his life – easily some of the best and brightest there are – the more he knows.
Buck is in love with Eddie.
Buck is in love with Eddie, and as Eddie reads and thinks and evaluates, he realises something else.
Buck is in love with Eddie, and Eddie is in love with Buck.
It’s an easy conclusion to come to, really. Eddie isn’t quite sure why he never saw it before, but he doesn’t think it matters. Maybe they just needed to wait until now, until it was the right time.
Maybe now is the right time.
It’s odd, Eddie thinks, leaning back and laughing, ever-so-slightly hysterically. If you’d told him, like, yesterday, that he’s in love with a man, he’d probably be panicking. Not because there’s anything wrong with that, but because it’s new, for him. Considering all the other new things life has thrown at him recently, which have been pretty distinctly not-great, he’s expecting this to be difficult.
It’s not.
It’s the easiest thing in the world, once he’s figured it out. Once he knows what it means, relief floods his veins, washing away the nausea and the shaking hands and the tight throat until there’s nothing left but soft, steady love.
He picks his phone up.
“Eddie?” Buck asks, confusion loud and clear even through the shitty speakers on Eddie’s phone. That’s another reason why they usually facetime: Eddie splurged more on that iPad than this phone. It’s just nicer to see people on a bigger screen, if it has to be through a screen at all. “Weren’t you going to sleep?”
“I don’t think it would be crazy,” Eddie says, ignoring Buck’s question completely.
“What?”
“I don’t think it would be crazy for you to be in love with me.”
It’s quiet. Eddie closes his eyes and sees Buck’s face, stuttering and flying through a million expressions in three seconds.
“Why not?” Buck settles on. Eddie can hear the defensiveness in his voice, but there’s something brittle about it. It’s a wall of cardboard, not of brick.
“Because,” he says, pausing very deliberately so Buck knows exactly what chapter of their lives he’s thinking of.
Because, Evan.
“Because I’m in love with you,” he says, voice every bit as steady as it was on that hospital bed, arms in a sling and heart in his hands. He’s still holding it now, just in a different way, arms stretched out so he can give it to Buck, all the way from El Paso to Los Angeles.
“I’m in love with you,” he repeats, just that little bit louder, “and we tend to be in sync, you know. So I don’t think it would be crazy if you were in love with me.”
“Oh.”
It’s not a bad oh. One of shock, most likely. Of surprise. Eddie waits, patiently.
“Oh,” again. “Oh, Eddie.”
“Yeah?”
“ Eddie ,” more desperately. “Eddie, I didn’t realise.”
“I figured.” Eddie smiles.
“I’m in love with you,” Buck breathes out, his joy audible with every word. Eddie feels it leak through the phone and straight into his heart. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this over the phone,” Buck says with a sigh. “I- I wish I could kiss you right now.”
“I’ve missed your hugs,” Eddie admits. They don’t even hug all that often, but he means it. Buck throws his whole body into hugs. It’s really nice. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever felt safer than he does in Buck’s arms. “Soon, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eddie confirms. He’ll tell Buck more later, talk about the conversations he’s had with Christopher and Abuela, the discussions with his parents. The rough timeline he’s putting together, the light he can see that’s coming soon.
It’s nighttime now, here in El Paso. One day, not far from today, the sun will rise in Los Angeles.
“Soon.”