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Exhaustion weighed heavy in Eddie’s bones as he slumped down onto the couch, the sound of Chris’s voice drifting from his room and down the hall, filling the air with a buzz of life he had somehow forgotten was missing in his empty house. Relief and joy warred with the exhaustion and the lingering anxiety in his chest. Because Chris was here, he was back under his roof, and he wasn’t going anywhere. But still, what if something else happened? What if–
Eddie shook off the thought, stared up at the ceiling, and let out a long sigh for the first time that day, pushing away the doubts that had been burning at the back of his mind. He had Chris back, and this time his parents wouldn’t take him back. He wouldn’t let them. He was done fighting them, done letting them control his decisions, his life, their life. They weren't the family he chose, weren't the people he wanted to have a say in what he did, in what he and Chris did, in anything, because those people were in LA, holding his space at a job that he wasn’t entirely sure he could go back to even though that was all he wanted to do.
He ached to take off and head back to California, to LA, to the 118, to Buck, but Chris had friends in El Paso, a life. He’d already dragged him away from part of it, already disrupted part of his life here, though he was feeling less and less guilty about it very minute he thought about the way his parents acted, the way Chris had been so terrified of not pleasing them. If he’d just stood firmer in the beginning of all this, told his parents that they couldn’t take Chris away, or brought him home earlier, maybe none of this would have happened. But he had Chris now, he was back, and as his laughs echoed down the hallway, it hit him how happy he seemed now, how quiet he’d been before, with his parents. He couldn't risk that happiness, that joy, not for his own.
Eddie fished his phone out of his pocket, pulling up Buck’s contact without a second’s thought, like he’d done more times in a day since arriving in El Paso than he’d done to anyone before, even Shannon. Because who else would he call to tell about Chris moving in, who else would need to, deserve to, know? His thumb hovered over the call button, the little icon of a phone. It was late. Maybe he should just call him instead of FaceTime like they always did, just in case. But– Eddie needed to see him. Always did. FaceTime was the closest he could get to feeling like Buck was actually at his side again, like some undeniable part of his body ached for him to be, like the traitorous part of his heart he’d been trying to squash down since the tsunami—maybe even earlier, if he let himself really think about it—begged for him to be. But now wasn’t the time. He couldn’t. It was Buck, Eddie couldn’t think about it more than that. He hit the FaceTime button.
Buck answered almost instantly, barely even letting the first dial tone go through, the front door of the South Bedford Street house squeaking as he opened it, and–
“Were you digging a ditch or something?”
Buck laughed at his words, the lock clicking into place behind him a familiar sound, and walked into the kitchen. His eyes seemed to shine with the soft lighting of the room, bright and warm as he sank down into one of the chairs at the table, setting something onto the wood surface in front of him. “No. No, I was helping Hen with her yard work. Seemed like the least I could do after forgetting her birthday. God, I still can’t believe I forgot.”
He ran a hand back through his hair, messing up the already disheveled, slightly sweaty curls, and Eddie tried very hard to not think about the way the sight seemed to circle his brain, coil warmth in his gut. Nope. He was not thinking about it. Not one bit. Get a grip, Diaz.
“Well, at least now you never will again?” Buck just looked at him for a second, like he wasn’t sure what exactly to say in response, but then he flashed him a small grin and his eyes seemed to glow, shimmer.
“Yeah, well, we’ll also all never live it down.” Eddie grinned back at him, words jumbling in his throat. Dios, he missed Buck, missed him like half of his soul was living outside of his body, with him in LA. The words pushed at the back of his teeth, begging to be said but he couldn’t. Not now, not yet. “Anyway, how’d Chris’s chess tournament go?”
Buck stood up and walked toward the sink, balancing his phone next to it before turning on the water and starting to scrub his hands. It took Eddie a second to process his words, to force back the dryness of his throat and the words still pushing at his teeth. It just felt so incredibly domestic, the gentle glow of the kitchen around Buck, the every day task of washing his hands in the kitchen, their kitchen, Eddie still as close as he could be when Buck could’ve left his phone on the table and kept talking to him all the same. Warmth spread through his chest, watching as Buck dried his hands and took a plate from the same cabinet Eddie had kept them in, and it wasn’t until Buck sat back down at the table and raised an eyebrow at him that he realized he’d never answered.
“I pulled Chris from it early.”
Buck froze, fork with chicken speared on its end halfway to his plate, and Eddie could practically feel the concern coming off him in waves, could read it in the scrunch of his eyebrows and the downturn of his lips. “Wait, what? Eddie, what happened? Is he o–”
“He got nervous. My dad’s been pressuring him, been making him feel like he has to be perfect, and he just– he wanted to please him so much that–”
Buck nodded, putting down his fork as he breathed out a small sigh, some of the concern fading but being replaced by a hint of anger, protectiveness that only Chris really brought out. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
Eddie nodded too, because of course Buck got it. He’d been there every step of the way for years, through thick and thin. He knew Chris as well as Eddie did, knew how he reacted to things, what him getting nervous meant, had been at his side when it had happened the first time before one of the science fairs in elementary school. And Eddie missed having him there, missed having him at his side with Chris, missed having him in the same house, the same city, the same state. But at least he had him, even if it was only through a screen.
“I pulled him after that, took him home. And– And he’s staying, for good. No more going back to my parents. He’s my kid, Buck, and after that– You were right.” Buck’s face broke out in a huge smile, like sunshine breaking through a morning fog, and warmth washed over Eddie.
“He’s back with you? He’s home?” And Buck sounded so, so relieved, so happy, like Eddie felt inside, and. And he’d known Buck was in this with him, had known that Buck was more than just his best friend, was more than that to Chris, but somehow it hadn’t quite hit him what exactly that meant. Not until that moment. Maybe it should’ve scared him, the realization, but all it did was settle something deep in his chest.
“Yeah. Yeah, he is.”
“That’s amazing, Eds. See, I told you it would be okay.” Buck pointed his fork at the phone between them as if to emphasize his point, and then put more food onto his plate.
“And I already said you were right.” Buck just grinned again as he started to eat the food that was now filling his plate, clearly leftovers from something Bobby had made. It was weird not knowing what exactly was going on there like he would have if he was home, weird only finding things out through the updates from everyone in LA. Eddie bit back the sigh building in the back of his throat and it was silent for a long moment.
It was comfortable, in a way, like when they would sit together on the couch with beers after Chris went to bed, listening to the sound of the other just breathing for a little while. If Eddie closed his eyes he could almost convince himself they were back in LA, together on that couch, their couch. It almost felt like the 800 miles between them disappeared. Like Eddie could just reach over and grab his hand, touch that hair that he couldn’t shove down the urge to run his fingers through anymore. He had Chris back, and now– now he just needed his family to be complete again. He had one with him, he needed the other. But he couldn’t ask that of Buck, it wasn't fair.
“How are you doing, with your parents?” Buck asked suddenly, and Eddie blinked, shaking his head a bit because he’d definitely been staring at Buck through the screen for far longer than was strictly normal, platonic best friend behavior.
“I– Honestly, I don’t know, Buck. What they did to Chris, even if they didn't mean to– I just don’t know. I left my dad in Lubbock and told my mom she couldn’t dictate Chris’s life anymore. Got in a bit of an argument about it. But– I don’t know. I don’t know what I want anymore.” Eddie shrugged, staring back up at the ceiling, tracing over a crack in the wood that he really should find a way to fix.
“Well, you have Chris back, so I’d say–”
“Is that Buck?” Chris’s voice cut through Buck’s and Eddie looked down to see him in the hallway, looking at him and his phone with something shining in his eyes.
“Yeah, mijo, come here. He's missed you.” Chris didn’t even wait for him to finish before he was making his way towards the couch and slumping down next to Eddie. He handed his phone over to him before he could ask because he knew. Buck needed to see Chris, and Chris needed to see him too.
“Hey, Buck! Why… are you covered in dirt?” Buck laughed, the sound warm and relieved, and Chris looked so happy, a wide grin on his face like when they’d driven away from his parents' house earlier. It hit him, like the light of the sun in the morning, that Eddie had everything that mattered, right there. All he needed now was for them to be under the same roof again, so he could pull them both into his arms and never let go again. His family. Buck and Chris.