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Eddie doesn’t have other clothes to change into.
There’s really no point in getting clean only to get back into his dirty clothes, so instead, he wanders around while everyone else hits the showers.
Unfortunately, it’s his favorite time of day at the station. The golden light filtering in like it is. It’s—he takes a deep breath—it’s too much to think about right now, so he turns his back on it and makes his way into the locker room. He’ll wait there until Chimney gets out and gives him back his—
Well. His phone is right there on the bench. No more wrestling over it, no more arguing. It’s there for him to take and do with as he pleases. He picks it up and stares at himself in the black screen, hoping for someone to light it up, to give him a definitive answer, but nothing happens. And why would it? Karen and Hen have already said their piece. So did Chim. Pepa. His parents. So now, it’s only him hovering there alone in the dark. Sighing, he slips it into his pocket.
One more look around is all he can handle before he goes outside to wait by Buck’s Jeep.
Eventually, he walks out with his bag slung over his shoulder, his curls still damp from his shower, flat against his head. He splinters off from Ravi with his head hung low. When he notices Eddie, he falters half a step as if he’s shocked by his presence. Stopping a few paces away, he scratches the back of his neck. “Thought you might’ve left,” he says.
And that’s—haven't they been through this? Eddie tries to shake the feeling away, but is only halfway successful. “Come on, Buck. Not without saying goodbye.”
“Well. We sort of did that already, didn’t we?”
Sure. They sort of did—quickly—hours ago during Eddie’s second going-away party. Only the bell had gone off, and everyone who had to go sprang to action. Eddie was across the room, frozen in place as Buck made a beeline for Chris, wrapping him in a hug, eyes finding Eddie with his chin hooked over Chris’ shoulder. Gotta go, Buck mouthed, and Eddie nodded, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. He still feels just as frozen now as he did then.
“So…” Buck pushes through the silence. And yeah, Eddie hasn’t spoken yet. There are too many thoughts competing in his head, too many shoulds, so all he can manage to do is lift his eyebrows, hoping Buck can magically fill in the blank space between them, or pluck the correct thought out of Eddie—the right should, point at it, and say, This is what you’re supposed to do. This is what’s right. For you and for Chris. For me, too. But Buck won’t do that. Eddie made damn sure of that the other night. “I’ll, uh, drive us ho—back to my… place.”
Which is… something. Or it’s close enough to something, maybe.
“Yeah,” Eddie struggles to swallow, “let’s go.”
Neither of them speaks once they get in, and because of the building collapse and because it’s LA, they get caught in traffic, and, in turn, they are trapped together in the silence with nothing to do but sit there and listen to whatever music Buck has on. While they wait, Eddie sends Chris a text to let him know he’s fine, and then another longer one to Pepa. Chris reacts to his message with a heart and an okay. love you dad. Then Pepa’s reply comes in. Eddie’s eyes get stuck on the last line.
Don’t worry, Eddito. He loves you.
They’re stopped at a light, and Eddie can sense Buck’s eyes on him, so he locks his phone and turns it face down on his lap, his mouth opening to nothing but bated breath.
He can’t just start talking; he’s never been good at that, and long-lived habits are hard to break, so he stays quiet.
The thing is, since Chris arrived, they settled into something that felt almost normal. Buck’s been Buck. Always jumping at whatever chance he can to help out. And there’s always that smile on his face because the guy loves taking care of his people. When Eddie arranged the surprise, his first thought, the thing that motivated the whole grand gesture, was comfort. But part of it was selfishness, too. It had been too damn long since he had seen Buck smile, and he missed it. Eddie just knew. He knew if he got the two of them in the same room, Buck’s shoulders would finally drop, and he’d be grinning from ear to ear. And that’s exactly what happened. Because Buck loves Chris.
And for a few days, they got to pretend like everything was normal again. They didn't have to talk about their fight aside from saying sorry and hugging it out, but Eddie’s got to report to work and Chris still has a couple of weeks left of school and Buck has been alright with all of it.
It’s been driving Eddie nuts how alright Buck’s been, actually, because the closer it gets, the more Eddie isn’t alright. And everyone but Buck seems to have opinions on what he should do, and a bunch of them contradict. There’s what Eddie wants and then there’s what’s right, what’s expected. Another contradiction. And then Buck makes this massive decision about his transfer without saying anything. Which, he knows, okay? All of it makes him a damn hypocrite because it sucks not knowing and finding out after the decision is done. Not to mention finding out with the group, like Eddie doesn’t matter any more than the rest of them. Like he's on the same level as them in Buck's eyes.
So, yeah, he gets it now.
And they’re sitting here playing chicken, neither of them able to talk first, still. They keep wasting time. Or maybe Buck is done talking, and he’s slipping through Eddie’s fingers because Eddie can't stop fucking up.
They had their blow-up in the kitchen, and then they got distracted and didn't actually fix it. And now they’re running out of time.
He squeezes his eyes shut. Jello. He’s going to be okay because he’s jello.
Somehow, while his heart rate stabilizes and his eyes are closed, they turn onto their street. Or Buck’s street. Not theirs. Eddie stares at the house as they pull up to it on the driveway, and Buck has already put it in park and killed the engine.
“Buck, I—” Eddie finally manages.
“I know,” he insists, defeated. His knuckles white where they remain wrapped in a vice around the steering wheel. “Chim’s speech was worthy of primetime TV, but it doesn’t change anything. I get it, Eddie.”
Before Eddie has a chance to respond, Buck has already slipped out, closing the driver’s side door with finality, leaving his duffle bag in the backseat in favor of a quicker escape. Shoving himself out of the vehicle, Eddie takes longer strides than usual to catch up, pushing through the front door.
“Buck.”
Buck’s back is turned, so when his voice cracks, he can't see the way the broken sound hits Eddie in his stomach like a punch. “I just don’t know how many more goodbyes I can handle at this point, you know? If you’re gonna go just…”
“What?" Eddie pushes. “Just go?”
Buck finally turns toward him, keeping his gaze somewhere in the distance, and shrugs. “I mean… fuck, Eddie. I said goodbye to you when you moved. I said goodbye to you before your party. I said goodbye to you when the bell went. You’re going, and I’ve been trying and failing to let you go for weeks. Months. So, yeah. Go,” he says, his arm outstretched to the door, lip trembling. “Please.”
Eddie’s chest is so hollow it might just cave right into itself.
“You’re really saying, after what Chim said back there, that it doesn’t change anything for you?” Eddie asks, perplexed. “You’re still gonna transfer?”
“I don’t know! What do you want me to say? I can’t put that—that false hope on myself, that things should stay the same. I can’t put that on you. Not anymore. Things have changed. Today was fucking great, you know, but that was temporary. A good... send off.”
Shaking his head, Eddie steps closer. “Being across from you on that roof today, knowing Chris was waiting for us here, in our home, was the first time I felt completely like myself in months. I was standing exactly where I was supposed to be.” They’re close now, so Eddie reaches to hold on to his spot, where his thumb can make out the thumping of Buck’s pulse. Eddie thinks, Like this. Standing exactly where they’re supposed to be, just like this. “Tell me you didn’t feel it, too. That it wasn’t right.”
Buck’s eyes, fixed right on Eddie, are so damn blue he can hardly stand it.
“Of course, I felt it, Eddie. Seeing you there, having Chris here, it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long, long time. But it—it isn’t mine to keep. As much as I wanted it, you two were never mine to keep.”
Which is so damn backwards it makes Eddie want to scream. That’s not how he ever wants Buck to feel. But it’s no wonder that it is. Eddie is a runner. Ever since he was a kid, he’s been told what he should be, what he should want, what he should do. Every decision he’s ever made has been a punishment in one way or another. Never once has he had the chance to live his life for himself; he’s never had to. So he’s gotten away with running and hiding. It’s always been safer—easier to push people away than to let them know him more than the small parts he allows, but he’s so damn tired of hiding. He just wants Buck to dig him up and find him, to really see him, to know him. Eddie is finally ready to show Buck, if he really wants to see.
“Ask me what I want—” Eddie demands, can feel how the muscles in his face twitch as he says it. “Ask me if I want to go.”
“Eddie,” Buck pleads.
“Please, Buck. I really need you to ask me.”
Eddie forces himself to keep his chin tilted up to meet Buck’s eyes with the conviction he so desperately wants to convey. Buck looks down at him, his eyebrows stitched together, the corners of his mouth fragile when he asks, “What do you want?”
“I want to stay here,” Eddie says, squeezing where he’s still holding onto Buck like a lifeline. “With you.”
A sharp intake of breath punctuates the moment. Buck squeezes his eyes shut when he exhales. “What about Christopher?”
Eddie can’t stop now; he drags his hand up Buck’s neck to touch his face. “I— we’ll talk about it with him. Just the three of us. I’m done with making decisions alone. And I’m done with people making decisions for me. We’ll figure it out. Together this time. And from now on.”
With a huff, Buck nods, his eyes fluttering open. “Together, huh?” A small smile cracks apart the sombre look on Buck’s face. “I like the sound of that.”
Their foreheads are pressed together, and Buck folds his hand on top of Eddie’s, holding it snug against his cheek as he blinks.
“Yeah, me too,” Eddie nods. Buck wraps his free arm around Eddie’s waist and hauls him in closer. They’re practically breathing the same air.
“So, um,” he begins, his words feathering against Eddie’s lips, “where’s Chris? Aunt Pepa?”
“I asked her to take him for a sleepover. It’s the weekend. He doesn’t have to be back at school until Monday.”
“Okay. Monday. Monday’s good.”
Somehow, Buck presses them even closer.
“Yeah, good.”
“Is, uh...” Buck holds Eddie flush against his body, his hand splayed against Eddie’s lower back. Eddie itches for it to travel lower. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, Buck,” Eddie says against his mouth, laughter a subtle undercurrent to his words because obviously. How could it not be? Their lips are nearly brushing. “It’s more than okay.”