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Buck had gotten much better about taking care of himself, really. He set alarms for his medications and found pill organizers online that didn’t make him feel like a 90 year old grandfather. He was already good at hydration, but he’d gotten more diligent about tracking it and made sure to drink at least 3 liters a day.
There were, however, aspects of POTS management that Buck did not particularly enjoy. Usually, he could get away with sticking to the methods that worked for him. Unfortunately for Buck, he wasn’t the only one paying attention during his doctor’s appointments.
Eddie was, in most regards, the perfect boyfriend. He was funny, kind, a great dad, loyal to the ends of the Earth, and hot to boot. Buck had hit the soulmate jackpot. The thing was, Eddie was stubborn, and Buck was too. They usually found it endearing about each other, but there was always the odd occasion that they would butt heads.
It didn’t help Buck that he was dating an ex-Army Medic, who had apparently learned a thing or two from Buck about meticulous organization. Buck himself was tidying the house for maximum efficiency and aesthetics when he found the small, blue-cover journal in Eddie’s bedside drawer, labeled in sharpie on the cover with “Buck Health Notes.”
ONE
That traitor. This wasn’t something Buck needed, the appointment summaries were on his patient portal if he needed to reference something and he took his own notes about his symptoms and treatments using apps on his phone.
Buck, frowning, opened the journal to the first page. At the top, there was an all-caps header of “POTS,” with the rest of the page, and a few after it, being filled with general information about the condition.
He flipped further in the book - it was remarkably full, with only maybe a quarter of the pages remaining - and found dated entries of every time he’d passed out or had a bad day, along with detailed notes from his doctor’s appointments. There were points that he didn’t even remember hearing, and he wondered how Eddie was able to write all of this down without him noticing.
There was a loose page sticking out of the middle of the journal, a folded piece of larger paper with more organized hand-written notes. He examined it, eyes narrowing with what he found.
‘Oh, Buck! - A guide to saving Buck from his own autonomic nervous system
Signs Buck isn’t feeling well:
Quieter than normal
Not following conversations
Sways while standing
Blinks excessively or longer than normal
Lower appetite
Holding phone too close to face
What to do in case of fainting:
Try to lower him gently or get him to sit down
Lay him down and prop his feet up
Wake him up after a moment
Bring him water and a salty snack
Babysit’
Buck. Did. Not. Need. A. Babysitter.
His face flushed with embarrassment. Did Eddie really think he needed so much help with this? He was doing well, taking care of himself, and Eddie had written out meticulous instructions that he had likely shared about how to help behind Buck’s back.
He contemplated confronting Eddie about it, but decided against it, tucking the offending document back into the offensive book, and placing it carefully back where he found it so that Eddie wouldn’t suspect a thing.
TWO
It was colder than normal in LA. This wasn’t really a problem for Buck, he’d grown up in Pennsylvania, after all, so 40 degrees Fahrenheit was nothing. He was more worried about Chris, who’d spent nearly his entire life in LA, and a bit less so Eddie, who had maybe seen one snowfall in his lifetime - not that it was snowing that day, he was just worried.
Buck’s wardrobe included a plethora of sweaters and sweatshirts, but Eddie’s was sorely lacking, so he picked out a nice jacket from his less bulky days and threw it onto Eddie’s side of the bed, where the man himself was picking out his own outfit.
“What’s this?” Eddie chuckled, holding up the soft blue material.
“I thought you’d get cold today, so you should borrow one of my jackets.”
“I have jackets.” Eddie teased.
“Yeah, but you’ll look so good in mine.” Buck grinned, and leaned towards his boyfriend to kiss him on the cheek.
“If you insist.” Eddie blushed as he pulled the jack on over his gray tank - one of the many shirts in his collection that Buck often found himself drooling over. “Oh, hey, make sure to put on your compression stockings.”
What? - “What?” Buck buffered.
“Because it’s cold.” Eddie stated, matter-of-factly. He pulled Buck’s box of under-used medical supplies from the closet and threw a pair of stockings at him.
“I don’t need these, I feel fine today.” Buck felt heat growing in his cheeks - embarrassment.
“You won’t later. It’s cold, we’re going to an outdoor market, you don’t want to deal with that kind of blood pooling.”
“Blood pooling?”
“Yes, Buck.” Eddie scoffed, exasperated but incredibly fond . “It happens a lot with POTS, that’s why your doctor asked us to buy the stockings in the first place. And with your history…”
“I’m not going to get a blood clot!” Buck found himself raising his voice slightly, and felt terrible for nearly yelling at Eddie over this, but he was still frustrated.
“I’m just worried about you.” Eddie sighed. “At least bring them with us, so if you are feeling worse, you can put them on?”
“Fine,” Buck relented, scowling as he stuffed the socks into his backpack.
THREE
Eddie was giving Buck a strange look at work. Quietly scanning every feature of his body for something. Usually, Buck found it cute when Eddie was trying to discern something - the odd set of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed, but at this moment, he felt like an animal on auction being sized up for its pelt.
“What?” Buck finally asked, maybe a bit too loud and high-pitched for his own liking. It caught the attention of a few other members of A-shift, their eyes flitting to the couple.
“When was the last time you took your blood pressure?”
“Uhhhh, yesterday.” Buck reported, still suspicious of Eddie’s concern, but honest all the same.
“Hmmm.” Eddie hummed, and closed the book he’d stopped reading half an hour ago before getting up and disappearing down the stairs to the bay.
“What’s that about?” Hen asked over Buck’s shoulder.
“I honestly don’t know.” Buck’s jaw clenched. “He’s been… doting on me more lately.”
“He is your boyfriend, it’s kind of his job.”
“It’s unnecessary. I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Hen interrogated. “You’re not feeling off at all? Eddie must’ve noticed something.”
“Yeah. I did.” Eddie answered from the top of the stairs, stethoscope and blood pressure cuff in hand. “He’s pale in the face, you can see it in his birthmark.”
Buck sighed as his boyfriend sat down next to him and started fitting the cuff around his arm. “You noticed that and kept staring for thirty minutes?”
“I was looking for other symptoms.”
“And….?” Buck huffed.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m still checking your blood pressure though. Stay still.”
Buck glared at his boyfriend but stayed still and silent as he placed the bell of the stethoscope on the inside of his arm and inflated the cuff.
“105 over 70.” Eddie announced.
“So normal.” Buck smiled. “Told you.”
“It would be normal, and fine, if you weren’t on two different medications that are meant to bring your blood pressure up .” Eddie lightly scolded.
“I feel fine.” Buck hissed.
“He’s right.” Hen sighed. “Buck, you should be man behind if your systolic is below 110.”
“Where exactly did that statistic come from?” Buck grasped at straws, not wanting to be sidelined.
“Your doctor, when she prescribed the new meds. I’m telling Bobby. You-” He pointed a finger at Buck. “Drink more water.”
“I’ve had plenty!”
FOUR
Buck made it a rule to hydrate more in the Summer, even before he developed POTS. The entire extended firefam was spending the day at the beach, and so Buck was hydrating even more.
He was on his fifth liter of water, and the third of which he’d loaded with Liquid IV to get his electrolytes in. He was thoroughly enjoying lounging back against Eddie’s bare chest, watching through his sunglasses the kids splashing each other in the waves. He took a long sip of the sweet limited-edition rocket pop flavored water and frowned when the distinctive sound of the straw struggling to reach the remaining liquid signalled he was running out.
“Done already?” Eddie asked, rubbing his boyfriend’s arm and kissing his birthmark.
“Yeah, I’m going to go fill up at the water fountain.” He pecked Eddie on the lips before hopping up and trawling through the sand to the water fountain.
When Buck returned a moment later, Eddie was smiling up at him, two green packets in hand.
“Kiwi strawberry.” Eddie held the propel packets up. “Your favorite.”
“I’m really liking the rocket pop Liquid IV.” Buck waved him off as he sat down, tilting his head up to look at Eddie’s face.
“We’re almost out, though.” Eddie reasoned. “And that’ll be what? Your fourth today?”
“Yeah, so?”
Eddie ruffled his fingers through Buck’s loose curls, looking worriedly down at him. “That much sugar always makes your stomach hurt. Are you sure you don’t want the sugar free?”
“I’m sure.” Buck affirmed, furrowing his brow at Eddie’s worry. Why was his boyfriend paying such close attention to what he was drinking? Buck didn’t need someone to take such unnecessary care of him, he was an adult, self-sufficient and thriving. He loved Eddie, but sometimes he wished he would calm down about this kind of thing - Buck had it under control.
And maybe an hour later, when they were packing up to head home, Buck realized Eddie was right about the stomach ache. He pushed through it, though, not one to let Eddie have the last word, apt or not.
FIVE
Buck and Eddie were at a standoff.
Buck sat, dazed but determined, on the edge of their bed, glaring at the wheelchair Eddie was presenting in front of him. It was usually reserved for when Chris was recovering from a surgery or was having a particularly bad day, but it was a standard-issue hospital wheelchair, and it would fit Buck if he needed it - which he didn’t of course.
“Just get in the chair, Buck.” Eddie hissed.
“I don’t need it.” Buck hissed back.
He was having a flare up, it wasn’t unheard of. A combination of overworking himself for the last few days and getting a nasty cut earlier that day had resulted in his current predicament. Buck had passed out twice attempting to get from the bed, where he’d been napping, to the dining room, where his sister and brother in law were waiting with Chris to eat dinner.
Eddie had found him the second time, helped him maintain a shaky seated position on the bed, and ventured into the attic to retrieve the wheelchair, despite Buck’s protests. Eddie was insistent that he get in the chair and let Eddie bring him to dinner. Buck was insistent that he could walk there without help - he just hadn’t worked up the courage to do it yet, at least not in front of Eddie.
“Fine, if you don’t need it, I’ll meet you in the dining room. You remember the way, don’t you?” Eddie smirked and stepped into the hallway. Buck knew he hadn’t gone very far by the way the footfalls stopped quickly.
Buck, ever stubborn, pushed himself up on his feet, made towards the door, and woke up on the floor with Eddie holding his feet with an “I told you so” expression on his face.
“Ready to try the wheelchair?”
Buck’s face flushed heavily behind his hands as Eddie steered him to the table. Eddie was embarrassing him again, but no one at the table made any comment about Buck’s current condition or the bandaged cut on his arm. He later supposed that Eddie must’ve warned them not to. He knew firsthand how scary his boyfriend could be when he needed to.
PLUS ONE
They were on vacation. A chunk of their savings had gone into a trip to the Caribbean, and they were having an absolute blast so far, walking along picturesque beaches hand in hand, drinking pina coladas at the swim-up bar. It was perfect, and child-free, as Chris was staying with the Buckley-Han clan until his dads returned. Sure, he’d put up a bit of a fuss, but when they mentioned they were already looking at staycation planning for Disneyland the next year, he had relented.
Buck woke up on the penultimate morning of their vacation to Eddie’s smiling face, already awake and admiring his boyfriend.
“Hey, sleepyhead, ready for a great day?”
“Yeah.” Buck smiled sleepily, conjuring up his memories of the activities he’d planned for them that day. “A scuba dive at 11, lunch reservations at this fantastic spot the next island over, then massages back at the resort.”
“And I have dinner covered.” Eddie grinned, leaning in for a kiss.
“And you have dinner covered.” Buck echoed, a knowing smile curling at his lips.
“Remember your meds!” Eddie called as he fixed his hair in the mirror once they were dressed.
“I know, I know. You don’t have to dote on me like that.” Buck whined playfully.
“Yeah, but sometimes you’re a bit of an idiot and don’t take care of yourself, and what then?”
“Then you get annoying , Buck teased.”
“I guess you’ll just need to listen to me before that happens then.”
They were walking from lunch to the ferry when Eddie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to pull something out of his bag - a full liter of water and a packet of rocket pop Liquid IV.
“No way!” Buck exclaimed as he took the packet gleefully. “I thought we ran out of these.”
“I kept a secret stockpile.” Eddie shrugged. Buck narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He’d find that stash once they got home.
Eddie had kept every detail a secret as he led Buck to dinner. All Buck knew is that it was fancy - he was warned the week before, when they were packing, to bring something nice . So Buck was dressed in a loose white button up tucked into emerald green slacks with a matching-color plant-patterned blazer. Eddie’s outfit nearly had Buck on his knees when he’d emerged from the bathroom and asked what he thought - a flowing tunic and golden brown slacks (the color of Eddie’s eyes, Buck noted). He reminded Buck of Pedro Pascal that time he accepted an award while drunk but hotter and all his.
Eddie had pulled some strings, it turned out, and gotten a reservation at the chef’s table in a critically-acclaimed restaurant on the island. Buck spent the entire dinner watching the kitchen bustle around them and explaining the culinary techniques to Eddie.
Halfway through the meal, Eddie whispered something to their waiter. Buck thought it must have something to do with what Eddie had planned that night, not entirely a secret - what was a secret, however, was the matching ring box burning a hole in Buck’s camera bag. But instead of some fanfare coming out a moment later, the waiter delivered to the table a small electric fan and turned it on, pointing it at Buck.
“Uhhh,” Buck frowned at Eddie. “What’s that about, babe?”
“You were sweating.”
“Yeah, we’re in a kitchen.”
“Yeah, but your POTS makes temperature regulation hard and you deserve to be lucid tonight.”
Dessert came and went without a ring turning up. Buck had half a mind just to hijack the night Eddie had planned and pull his ring out already, but resolved to stay patient and Uno reverse Eddie like he had planned.
He felt the moment rising as they walked along the beach, the sun setting deep into the Gulf of Mexico. Buck spotted a picnic blanket set up a dozen or so yards in front of them and glanced towards the trees at the edge of the beach, a sneaky flash of light from a professional camera betraying the presence of a photographer.
Eddie gestured towards the blanket. “Wanna lay down, watch the sunset?”
“Lay down?” Buck cocked his head.
“I don’t want you to faint for this next part.” Eddie whispered in his ear as they lowered down, lounging into the sand.
Eddie inspected Buck’s fingers in his hand as he waxed poetic for a few moments. “You are the best person I have ever met, Evan Buckley. I have no idea what I did to deserve you. But I hope I’ve done enough -” Eddie produced a gorgeous silver band engraved with vines from his pocket - no ring box, that bastard, Buck had been wondering how the hell he’d been hiding the ring in pants that tight. “To spend the rest of my life with you.”
Buck grinned up at Eddie, feeling his heart race in his chest - it had been a good idea to lay down, after all.
“Buck, the love of my life, will you marry me?” Eddie had tears in his eyes as he concluded his speech, but he was about to have more.
Buck smiled cheekily, reaching behind him for his bag and fumbling with the latch. “It’s so funny you ask that.” He finally got ahold of the ring box, producing it in front of him and pausing, addressing Eddie one more time before he could open it. “Because I can’t think of a better way to spend my life than with you, and with Chris, because you two are my everything. I love you so much, and I will only be your husband, if you agree to be mine.” He opened the box, revealing a stunning golden band with constellations - each of Eddie’s, Buck’s, and Chris’s - engraved around it.
Eddie laughed a wet, happy - but very teary - laugh, nodding excitedly as he allowed Buck to slip the ring onto his finger - a perfect fit. Once he’d done the same for Buck, he pulled him in for a kiss.
Buck had never been so grateful to be known.