Work Text:
Before leaving for school that morning, Christopher had stumbled into the kitchen, rambling on and on to Eddie about some orange creamsicle cake that he had seen online. Oranges being his favorite fruit, Chris had immediately decided that this was something he “absolutely needed to try” in the near future. He went on to show Eddie a video he had seen of someone making it, pointing out how fluffy the frosting looked and making sure to emphasize how much he loved the little orange candy that adorned the top of the dessert. He was so enamored with this orange delight that he even asked his dad if it could be his birthday cake.
But Christopher’s birthday wasn’t for a few more months. And Eddie wasn’t going to wait that long. He was finally back in Los Angeles and finally back to seeing his son’s wide, toothy grin every single morning. He wasn’t going to wait another second to see that when he had a perfectly good excuse to prompt one of those goofy smiles right now.
Eddie’s papers for being reinstated at the 118 hadn’t gone through just yet, and it was Buck’s day off. So, bursting through his front door, grabbing Buck off his couch (or their couch), and dragging the in-house baker to the grocery store was a no-brainer. They jumped into Eddie’s Prius– which Buck keeps teasing him about, calling him a ‘soccer mom’– and set on their way, Buck in the passenger seat researching the proper ingredients with a fiery fervor. Normally, Eddie would be the one in the passenger seat and Buck would be at the wheel, but in this instance, he trusted Buck a lot more to pick which supplies were needed for this magnificent ‘dream cake’.
And that leads them to now, where the two men stand at the edge of a grocery store with one singular mission.
To bake an orange creamsicle cake.
“Okay,” Buck starts, “so I put everything that we’ll need in my notes.”
“Right, okay,” Eddie nods. “So, what’s first?”
Buck hums as he mouths each ingredient and then looks up, eyeing the aisles. “I think maybe… we could get the vanilla cake mix first. Or the orange Jello.” He cocks his head slightly. “Or maybe the pudding mix?”
Eddie chuckles. “One thing at a time, big man.”
Buck gives him a look, a slight smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “Does that mean you’re admitting to being small?”
He was definitely smaller than Buck. That doesn’t mean he was going to admit it.
“No, I’m shorter than you, but that doesn’t make me–”
“Oh, it so does–”
“What, you wanna go for it?” Eddie inadvertently drifts closer to Buck.
“Go for what?”
A sense of déjà vu courses through Eddie’s veins as he suddenly realizes a few things: the distance between them is quickly nearing none, he can pick out each singular eyelash on Buck’s lids, and they’re in a grocery store. In public.
He’s not sure why this is suddenly an issue. He’s also not sure why the back of his neck begins to flame like twenty torches joined as one.
Eddie snorts as he pulls away. “How about I take a rain check on another grocery store fight with you, and we go figure out what ingredient we’re getting first.”
Buck raises his brows and opens his mouth in protest. “Okay, that time was not so great for–”
“Nuh uh,” Eddie holds up his hand. “Rain check.”
Buck rolls his eyes and brings his phone back up.
“Anyway,” he continues. “You said we have eggs at home, right?”
At home. Their home. His stomach flips at that. Weird.
Or it could just be that he’s riddled with anxiety to start baking this cake as soon as possible so that he has it ready before Christopher is home from school.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” Eddie rights himself. “Half a dozen left when I checked.”
“Perfect, we only need three for this.” Buck stares at his notes some more, chewing on the right side of his cheek. He glances up at the aisles again and then back at his phone.
Eddie claps a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “How about this: you get the ingredients from one side of the store and I grab from the other.”
Buck’s face lights up like Eddie’s just said the most ingenious thing in the world. “Yes! That way we can cut down on the shopping time and maximize baking time!”
Maximize baking time. I mean, sure, what the heck.
“Great, exactly. Okay!” Eddie rubs his hands together. “What else is on the list?”
“Alright, so we need a can of mandarin oranges, some orange zest, cool whip…”
Eddie tries to make a mental note of each ingredient, nodding along with each new item Buck lists, when Buck seemingly gets to the end, stops, and makes his ‘decision’ face.
“What?”
“If I get the pudding mix first… I can bounce over to… Yeah, okay, I’m going to the left side of the store!” He starts to speed away mid-sentence.
“Hold on– what exactly are you getting? I need to know so I know what to grab.”
Buck skids to a stop, hustles back over to Eddie, checks a few things off on his phone, and shoves the device into Eddie’s hands.
“What I’ve checked off is what I’m getting. Meet you at the register?” And Buck’s off again.
Eddie sighs and glances down at the phone in his hands.
What greets him isn’t a list of groceries for baking an orange creamsicle cake but a jumble of haphazardly labeled notes. Buck must’ve accidentally swiped out of the grocery list when he plopped the phone in Eddie’s hands.
Eddie snorts to himself and shakes his head. He can guess which note holds the ingredients as it's titled “CHRIS CAKE LIST” in all caps. But his curiosity tugs at the edges of his skull and, instead of clicking into it, he begins to scroll through the app, slowly meandering into one of the nearby aisles as he does.
There are a bunch of random tabs that he quickly peers at, one that seems to be a reminder to pick up dry cleaning– why didn’t he put that in his calendar?– and another that has what he thinks are song lyrics talking about zombies in a two-way mirror. He almost bumps into an old lady, his nose too deep into Buck’s phone, when he sees something that stops him in his tracks.
It’s a note that is just titled “Eddie!”. Nothing else. Simply his name and an exclamation mark. He didn’t have to scroll too far down to find it, which can only mean it’s been opened or edited recently. Eddie hesitates a moment, looking around in case the jolly green giant of a man has somehow magically appeared over his shoulder in the last two seconds. He’s not sure if he should open it– he doesn’t want to intrude on Buck’s private memos or whatever. Not that that stopped him a minute ago from going through the other notes. Not that that’s ever mattered to the two of them in general. For Pete’s sake, they gave each other keys to their homes within the first month of knowing each other, they know each other’s phone passwords, and they quite literally share a house right now. So this shouldn’t be an obstacle.
Besides, it has his name on it. Doesn’t that mean he has a right to know?
Eddie opens the file before he can change his mind.
His breath hitches in the back of his throat.
Eddie!
Likes/Dislikes
-likes to dance, thinks he does it when no one can see
-does NOT like robots, smart tech, anything of the sort
-favorite color switches between a soft olive green and a light teal
-favorite flowers are yellow lilies
-likes classic rock
-will watch any movie with tom cruise
-LOVES a good classic movie like ferris bueller’s day off
-loves tele-novellas but won’t admit it (they’re on channels 139-168)
Need to Knows
-makes his coffee with two sugars and a dash of the silk caramel almond creamer
-wears those pink socks all the time but only at home (I think they’re his favorite pair)
-go to outfit is normally one with a flannel (especially the brown one)
-chocolate chip anything is his favorite baked good (try out the new muffin recipe for him soon)
-gets his cologne from the small, brown kiosk in the mall (the one in front of the food court)
-doesn’t always sleep through the night because of nightmares. always leave ringer on in case he calls in the middle of the night. if staying over, set out tea bags for him just in case.
-chris gets up before he does normally. if staying over, make breakfast with chris so he can sleep in.
- likes his eggs over easy. chris likes his scrambled.
Potential gifts
-basketball tickets, court side (for him and chris)
-ANOTHER HILDY
-yellow lilies
-new grilling tools
-maybe just a night out with someone watching chris (go line dancing?)
Note to self: eddie is out of triple-A batteries. get more when at the store next.
There was more, too. There was a section about how to help him when he was upset, another bit on where to find that one candy he loved growing up as a kid, and a list of Christopher’s clothing sizes and what brands were easiest for him to wear. Buck had notes on the littlest things, things that didn’t seem that important to even remember. But Buck did . Buck remembered it all, saw every little nuance, every tiny thing that most people wouldn’t. He took note of everything, watering every thought like it was its own seed, nurturing and meticulously caring for this garden of love. If these words were flowers, then Buck was sunlight incarnate.
Buck cared. He cared about him.
Buck cared about Eddie.
Eddie’s head was spinning, his vision blurring. No one had ever gone through this effort to see him before, not like this.
Is this what it was to be known? To be loved?
He was having a hard time reading the rest when he heard Buck’s voice ring out.
“Eddie?” Distant but not too far.
Fuck. Shit, fuck, shit. Eddie rapidly wiped at his face, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, willing the tears to stop forming.
“Eddie– oh, there you are.” Footsteps echo closer as Buck makes his way down the aisle. Eddie keeps his back towards him, still trying to wrap his mind around what he’s found.
“I’ve got my bit of the list,” he says nonchalantly, throwing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, unaware of the chaos swirling in his mind. “How’s yours goin’?”
Still stunned, all Eddie can manage to get out is a meek, “Uh, it’s. Um.”
“Oh, c’mon, let’s see your haul,” Buck says cheekily, spinning him around. He drops his hand at the sight of Eddie, his other one chalk-full of groceries.
Apparently, he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his emotions.
“Woah, Eds, hey,” he says, his voice soft, “what happened? You okay?”
Eddie slowly nods, not able to make eye contact with Buck. Buck places his free hand on his back, heat blossoming from beneath his touch, and guides Eddie to an empty wall of the store. He levels himself with Eddie, making it so that their eyes are in line. Eddie still averts his gaze.
“Did you have another attack?” He asks gently, his voice low.
Eddie shakes his head no.
“Okay, that’s good, that’s good…” He can feel the concern radiating off of Buck even without looking at him. “Then wha–”
“You made a list.”
A pause. “For the cake? Yeah, of course, I wanted to make sure that we got everything we–”
“No,” Eddie cuts him off. “You made a list.”
He looks up, the deep-blue ocean of Buck’s eyes roaring with a gentleness that could pierce anyone’s heart.
“You made a list. For me.”
A flush paints Buck’s face as his eyes go wide. “Oh.”
He straightens up, Eddie still leaning against the wall. A silence brews between the two, so loud that the crash of thunder would seem like a mere pin dropping on a tiled floor. The air stills, neither daring to speak first for fear of disrupting this comfortable space that’s been embedded into their lives. It’s lived there untouched, unspoken of, like a flame that’s slowly spread to the edges of their visions– clearly there, burning and forging this trepidatious path, but just out of sight. But now, it’s seeped out of the peripheral and has planted itself right in front of them, unavoidable. Inevitable.
Time swirls around the two men, weaving in and out of this bubble that has subsequently encircled them. Buck stares, slack-jawed, like he wants to say something, but the words have been lost to the ether. Eddie stares back, searching for something, anything to indicate what his next move should be.
It’s Buck who finally speaks first.
“I…Uh, I’m sorry. That’s such a weird thing to find. I promise I’m not trying to be, uh, creepy or anything, I just–”
“Sorry?” Eddie pushes himself from the wall. “Why are you saying sorry?”
Buck opens his mouth, searching for a response, but just looks down and shrugs instead. “I just…”
“You care for me.” It wasn’t a question.
Buck flicks his eyes up to meet Eddie’s. “Of course I do.”
“You care for Christopher.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Then why would you say sorry?”
“I mean, I have a whole bunch of random stuff about you in there,” Buck starts, “and, yeah, who does that?”
There’s another pause before Buck answers his own question.
“I guess I do, but it’s just because I don’t want to forget anything you say or like… or do. You’re important to me. You’re one of the most important people to me, Eddie. I don’t ever want to disappoint you or make you upset or… lose you in any way. I’ve almost lost you before. I can’t have that happen again. I won’t let that happen again. So I guess having this with me, knowing how I can keep you around, makes me feel… better? I’m not really sure, to be honest, it’s silly saying it out loud–”
Eddie cuts off his rambling with a sudden hug, lurching forward and wrapping his arms tightly around Buck. He grips his shoulders as if to anchor himself to solid ground– Buck is his solid ground, after all. Buck lets out a gasp, the groceries in his one hand clattering to the ground, before melting into Eddie with a sigh. Their heads dig into each other's shoulders, an image so picturesque that it could have been hung in a museum.
They'd hugged before on multiple occasions, but never like this. Even so, there was something familiar about it. The two fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, slotted into one another with no space to spare. The flame that had once been left unattended now blazed brighter than ever, engulfing them in a warm, comforting light. It didn’t matter that they were in public, standing in a grocery store, surrounded by strangers who very well could be passing them by with the oddest of looks. None of it mattered. All that mattered was this small bubble, this small moment that they’d created for themselves, everlasting and unbreakable.
“I care for you, too,” Eddie murmurs quietly into Buck’s shirt.
More than you know.
He isn’t sure at first if Buck hears him, the fabric muffling his voice. But then he feels the slight shift of his head as the man nods in response.
They stay like this as long as they can, a yin and yang swirled together into one, neither wanting to be the first to pull apart. But eventually, Eddie reluctantly steps back. He searches Buck’s eyes as a flicker of light dances across his face, his irises peppered with aqua crystals that dutifully reflect the glow enveloping them. Eddie’s gaze drifts down toward Buck’s lips before he tears his eyes away, too scared to ask the question that’s been teetering on the tip of his tongue.
Is it better to leave it unspoken when so much has already been said? Is it better to stay in this limbo of almost but not quite?
Before Eddie can form another thought, he feels Buck’s rough hand beneath his chin, his fingers steering him back. Back to the garden of blossoming flowers. Back to the guiding light. Back to solid ground.
Back to Buck.
Buck studies him with what can only be described as a look of awe, his eyes tracing the curves of Eddie’s face, before giving him a slight nod of affirmation. It’s a nod that says yes, this is real and yes, I want this, too.
Buck brings his hand to the back of Eddie’s neck and tilts his head forward. Eddie shifts, closing the gap between the two, his forehead meeting Buck’s. Buck's fingers draw circles up and down his nape, a touch so soft it might have been imagined if the evidence wasn’t right in front of him. A chuckle escapes Eddie’s lips as a smile, a real smile, plasters itself across his face.
Yes, I love you.
And that’s how the rest of their lives start.
A grocery store endeavor. A notes app list.
And an orange creamsicle cake.