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Eddie parks his Prius outside of Hen and Karen’s house and just sits there, nervous about the conversation he’s about to have with them. He can’t be too sure how long he sits there, but it was clearly long enough for Hen to come out and knock on his door.
“Everything okay?” She asks through the glass.
Eddie nods and turns his car off, taking a deep breath before opening the door. His fingers twitch slightly as he runs a hand over his jaw, the scrape of stubble grounding him.
“What’s going on?” She asks, taking in Eddie’s disheveled look.
“N-nothing. All good,” Eddie lies.
“You called me at 6:30 in the morning asking if you could come over for coffee and breakfast, and you expect me to think that everything is okay?”
Hen pins Eddie with a look as they walk through the front door, greeted by Karen sitting on the couch with three cups of coffee ready.
“Okay, so everything is okay, per say,” Eddie says, sitting on the couch and grabbing his mug. He fidgets with the handle, twisting it nervously. “I just- I need to say something. I need to do something. And I’m not sure how.”
“And Buck couldn’t help you out?” Karen asks before taking a sip of her coffee.
“Well, uh-“ Eddie looks down at his cup, swirling the cream like he’s searching for answers in the swirls. “He-he…uh?”
“It’s about Buck, isn’t it?” Hen asks, barely hiding her grin.
“Buck wants me to go to Pride with him this weekend,” Eddie starts cautiously. “As, you know, an ally.”
“Are you-“ Karen starts. “Are you not an ally?”
“I mean, I am.” Eddie says before taking a deep breath, his hand running through his hair again. “But also maybe more than just an ally.”
Hen and Karen exchange a look, the kind of look that speaks volumes without a word. Surprise, curiosity, and maybe just a bit of I-knew-it flickering beneath the surface.
“Oh,” Hen says, drawing the word out slowly. “So… when you say more than just an ally, you mean…”
“I don’t know what I mean,” Eddie interrupts quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I just know that when Buck asked me, it felt like something more. And I didn’t want to say no, but I also didn’t want to say yes for the wrong reasons.”
Karen leans forward, setting her cup down carefully. “What would the wrong reasons be?”
“I don’t want to go just to support him. I want to go because I want to be there… with him. Not just with him, but withhim.” Eddie pauses. “Does that make sense?”
Hen leans against the armrest, studying him. “It makes perfect sense. The real question is, what’s stopping you?”
Eddie stares into his coffee, as if the swirling cream might form an answer. “Fear, maybe? Of screwing everything up. Of making things weird. Of him not feeling the same way. Of me not even knowing what I’m feeling.”
Karen reaches over, gently placing her hand over his. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now. But maybe Pride isn’t just about showing support. Maybe it’s a place where you can figure it out.”
Hen smiles, warm and teasing. “Plus, you’d look great in rainbow glitter.”
Eddie huffs a laugh, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a little. “You really think I should go?”
“I think you already know you want to,” Karen says. “Now you just need to be honest, with yourself, and with Buck.”
Eddie nods, the weight of uncertainty still there, but now softened by something steadier. Hope.
“Eddie, great.” Buck says, stepping out of the kitchen in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and an apron, causing Eddie to short circuit.
“Uh yeah,” Eddie says, kicking his shoes off at the door before walking towards the kitchen. “What’s, uh, what’s all of this?”
“I’m making cookies for this weekend,” Buck says, just as the over timer goes off. “Wash your hands so you can help me decorate.”
“Decorate?” Eddie asks, walking over to the sink anyway and turning on the water.
“Yeah,” Buck says, sitting the new tray of cookies on the stove top. “I have a few ideas printed out. They’re not going to be difficult.”
“And you want me to help?”
“It’s easy,” Buck says, taking the cookies off the tray and onto the cooking rack so he could add more dough to the pan. “I’m sure even Jee could do it.”
“I don’t want to mess them up,” Eddie says, looking down at the pictures of very vibrant cookies. “Seems too important.”
“Eddie,” Buck says, turning around to look at him. “It’s just rainbow icing on cookies, it’s not heart surgery.”
Buck’s smile is easy, teasing, but Eddie hears the care underneath it.
“I know,” Eddie says, drying his hands and stepping closer to the counter. “But it feels important.”
Buck raises an eyebrow, pausing mid-scoop. “You okay?”
Eddie hesitates, fingers brushing the edge of the counter. “Can I talk to you about something? Before we, you know… cover everything in glitter.”
Buck chuckles softly and sets the dough down. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”
Eddie looks at him, bare feet, messy hair, his apron with a cartoon cake on the front, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe and easier than ever all at once.
“I want to go to Pride with you,” Eddie says quietly. “Not just as an ally, I think.” He looks down, the words hanging heavy between them. “Not just an ally. Not anymore.”
Buck blinks. “What does that mean?”
“It means…” Eddie exhales, his fingers tightening around the dish towel. “It means I’m still figuring things out. About myself. But I want to go to Pride with you… as not an ally like you originally thought.”
Buck is still, and for one terrifying second Eddie wonders if he’s said too much. But then Buck’s face breaks into a slow, beautiful grin.
“Well,” he says softly, stepping forward. “You’re in luck. Because this will also be my first time going to Pride as not an ally, we can figure it out together.”
Eddie lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Buck rests a hand over Eddie’s, warm and steady. “And don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of cookie icing.”
“I’m more worried about the glitter,” Eddie mutters, and Buck laughs again, pulling him into a hug that feels a lot like home.
And maybe Eddie doesn’t have all the answers yet, but standing there in Buck’s kitchen, with the scent of cookies in the air and something new sparking in his chest, he’s pretty sure he’s on the right path.
Buck needs to talk to someone. Usually he would talk to Eddie, but he can’t talk about Eddie to Eddie, but he also can’t talk about it with anyone else in case he accidentally outs Eddie, so he’s pretty much stuck in his own head.
“Everything okay Kid?” Bobby asks, looking up from the tray of vegetables he was chopping.
“I don’t know,” Buck shrugs, reaching over and stealing a pepper slice.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Bobby asks. “I’m assuming that’s why you drove over here on your day off?”
“I’m not sure if I can talk about it,” Buck sighs.
“Is it something illegal?”
“No,” Buck shakes his head.
“Is it a surprise for me?”
Buck shakes his head no again.
“Then you can talk to me about it, if you want to.”
“I—” Buck takes a deep breath, his fingers tapping the edge of the counter. “I could potentially be telling someone else’s secret if I talk about the thing that’s bothering me.”
“I see.” Bobby nods, pausing thoughtfully. “Well… even if I don’t have all the details, maybe I can give you some advice. Sometimes the best thing to do is just be honest. With yourself first. And with whoever’s involved.”
Buck glances up, skeptical.
Bobby continues, “If it’s about someone you care about, remember that people are usually more understanding than we think. And if you’re worried about making things weird, well… sometimes a little weird is where the good stuff happens.”
Buck lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, easier said than done.”
Bobby shrugs. “True. But hiding stuff can weigh you down. Pride weekend is coming up right? Maybe that’s your chance to be real, whatever that means to you.”
Buck runs a hand through his hair, conflicted. “I want to tell you. I want someone else to know, just so I’m not holding it all alone. But it’s not mine to say. And I don’t want to hurt him by saying too much.”
Bobby nods, serious now. “I get that. You’re walking a fine line. Just remember to take care of yourself too. Sometimes carrying secrets can be heavier than you think.”
Buck looks at the chopped veggies, his thoughts still tangled but somehow a little lighter.
“I told him,” Eddie says through the phone, watching his sisters’ faces light up as they listen.
“You told Buck that you’re in love with him?” Adriana squeals, practically bouncing in her seat like she’s just won a jackpot.
“Well, no,” Eddie sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not that part.”
“Which part did you say?” Sophia asks, tilting her head with that half-smile she always gets when she’s both amused and intrigued.
Eddie hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip. “That I want to go to Pride with him… but not just as an ally. That I’m still figuring things out.”
Adriana gasps dramatically, clutching the phone like she’s holding a rare treasure. “Ooooh! The mysterious ‘figuring things out’ phase. Classic Eddie.”
Sophia laughs softly, shaking her head. “You’re such a romantic, Ed. You don’t have to have it all figured out to feel something real.”
Eddie smiles, feeling a little lighter. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just… hard, you know? It’s like I’m stepping into new territory without a map.”
“Welcome to adulthood,” Adriana jokes. “Maps are overrated anyway.”
Sophia’s tone softens. “You’re lucky you have Buck. He seems like someone who’d make the map with you as you go.”
Eddie sighs again, but this time it’s less heavy. “I hope so.”
“Whatever happens,” Adriana says firmly, “you’ve got us.”
Sophia grins. “You’re never alone, Eddie. Not with us around.”
Eddie feels warmth spreading through his chest, the kind that settles nerves and sparks hope.
“Thanks, guys. I’m going to need all the backup I can get.”
Adriana winks. “You got it. Now go find something nice to wear, maybe a little showy.”
Sophia laughs. “And send us pictures.”
Eddie chuckles, already feeling a little less scared. “Deal.”
Eddie is trying to find courage. He found an outfit he wants to attempt to wear to Pride, nothing crazy, but still out of his comfort zone.
Eddie stands in front of his bedroom mirror, phone propped up on his dresser with Adriana and Sophia both watching through the screen. He tugs at the hem of his shirt, soft cotton, white with a faint rainbow heart over the chest, slightly cropped at the bottom—and glances down at the pastel-accented sneakers on his feet. He’s wearing light-wash jean shorts, a tiny Pride flag pinned to his belt loop.
It’s nothing wild. No glitter, no feathers, no mesh or leather. But for Eddie, it’s loud.
“Okay,” he says, voice tight. “What do we think?”
Adriana squeals. “You look adorable. That shirt is so cute. I’m proud of you already.”
Sophia smiles warmly. “You look like you. Just with a little more color.”
Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot, chewing the inside of his cheek. “It feels… a little much.”
“For who?” Adriana asks pointedly.
Eddie hesitates. “I don’t know. People. Buck. Myself.”
Sophia softens. “Eddie, the point isn’t to blend in. It’s to show up. However that looks for you. If this is you pushing the edges a little, then that’s brave. Not too much.”
“You’re not wearing a rainbow jumpsuit, Eds,” Adriana adds. “You’re wearing a t-shirt with a heart on it. Chill.”
Eddie lets out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t want to look like I’m pretending to be something I’m not.”
“Who says you’re pretending?” Sophia says. “You said it yourself, you want to be there, with Buck. That’s real. You’re not faking anything. You’re just… showing a side of yourself you’ve been scared to share.”
Adriana leans into the camera. “And trust me, Buck is gonna lose his mind. He’s going to love this.”
Eddie groans. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” she teases. “It’s true. And you want him to love it. Admit it.”
Eddie hides his face in his hands. “You’re the worst.”
“We’re the best,” Adriana corrects with a wink. “Now go stand in front of that mirror again and give us a spin. Confidence, cabrón. Let’s go.”
Eddie laughs, but he does it. He steps back, awkwardly turns in a slow circle, and when he stops, something about the way his sisters are beaming makes him stand a little taller.
Sophia’s voice comes through, gentle and certain: “You’re doing great. And Buck’s going to see it, too.”
Eddie nods, more to himself than them. “Okay. Yeah. I’m going.”
“You’re going,” Adriana echoes. “And you’re gonna kill it.”
Before Eddie can do anything, before he can wear that shirt, step into that crowd, or take Buck’s hand, he knows he needs to talk to Chris.
They sit on a bench at the park, ice cream cones in hand, the sun warm but not too harsh. Kids laugh in the distance, the hum of weekend life surrounding them. Eddie watches Chris for a moment, taking in how grown he’s getting. Taller. Smarter. Sharper.
Chris looks up at him, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, what is this?”
“What is what?” Eddie asks, wiping a trail of ice cream from his hand.
“This,” Chris gestures vaguely between them. “We’re at the park with ice cream, you’re acting nervous, and you haven’t even tried to talk about school yet. Who’s sick?”
“What? Nobody’s sick,” Eddie says quickly, eyebrows lifting.
“Oh,” Chris shrugs and takes a bite. “Okay. Then what’s going on?”
Eddie takes a breath. Okay. Here goes nothing.
“You know how some people… love differently?”
Chris rolls his eyes with a grin. “Yes, Dad. I know about gay people.”
Eddie chuckles nervously. “Right, yeah. I just didn’t know how to start.”
“You’re weird,” Chris says fondly.
“I know,” Eddie agrees. He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “So… Buck invited me to Pride this weekend.”
Chris brightens. “Cool! Are you guys going?”
“I think so.” Eddie stares at his melting cone. “But not just as friends.”
Chris squints at him. “Wait… like, not just friends friends?”
Eddie nods slowly. “I’m still figuring things out. About myself. About what I’m feeling. But… I know I want to go. With Buck. And I wanted to talk to you about it before anything else.”
Chris is quiet for a second, licking his cone as he processes.
“Do you like him?” he asks finally, not accusing or shocked—just curious.
Eddie exhales. “Yeah. I think I do. Maybe more than I’ve been willing to admit. And I don’t know exactly what that means yet. But I didn’t want to keep it from you.”
Chris shrugs again, like this is the most obvious thing in the world. “Okay. As long as you’re happy. And Buck’s nice to you.”
Eddie blinks. “That’s it?”
Chris grins. “You think I didn’t already know something was going on?”
Eddie stares at him, jaw slack.
Chris laughs. “Dad. He made you heart-shaped pancakes on your birthday. And you saved every single one of his voicemails when we were in Texas.”
Eddie runs a hand down his face, half-laughing, half-horrified. “You are way too observant.”
Chris leans against him, ice cream dripping down his wrist. “You’re my dad. It’s my job.”
Eddie wraps an arm around his shoulders, feeling something click into place. Something brave.
“You’re okay if I do this? If we go together?”
Chris nods. “Yeah. You both deserve it. And I’ve been waiting forever to win at family game night with Buck on myteam.”
Eddie laughs, chest lighter than it’s been in days. “Deal.”
They sit there a little longer, watching the clouds drift by, ice cream melting just a little too fast. But nothing feels rushed.
Everything, for once, feels exactly right.
Buck is in his bedroom staring at two shirts like they hold the key to world peace.
One is his usual: simple, gray, reliable. The other, white with a soft bi-flag trim around the sleeves and collar, is something Maddie bought him last year. He’s never worn it, but he always liked the idea of it.
He holds them up again.
“I can’t believe I’m nervous,” he mutters, tossing the gray one aside and tugging on the pink, blue, and purple-trimmed shirt. He stares in the mirror. Not bad.
When Eddie yells that he’s ready, Buck grabs his bag (extra water, sunscreen, and rainbow heart stickers ), gives himself one last look, and heads out, making sure to grab the tote of cookies on his way out.
Eddie’s standing by the prius, hands in his pockets, that same white shirt with the rainbow heart over the chest. Buck’s breath catches. He looks... incredible. Something shifts in Buck’s chest, and he pushes it down, reminding himself this is just friends. Just support. He’s not going to get carried away.
Eddie, meanwhile, is already carried.
“You look good,” Eddie says, voice warm as Buck climbs into the passenger seat.
Buck grins, flustered. “Thanks. So do you.”
They don’t say much on the drive, just soft music and the sound of traffic and Buck drumming his fingers against the wheel.
When they arrive, the festival is already in full swing, rainbow flags waving, people dancing, music echoing down the streets. Laughter, joy, color.
Eddie sticks close to Buck as they walk through the crowd, shoulders brushing as they go. He’s not overwhelmed, surprisingly not. In fact, he feels energized, like the rhythm of the place is syncing with something in him he hasn’t had words for until now.
Buck points out the community booths, the food trucks, a glitter station (which Eddie immediately avoids). He talks a mile a minute, like he’s trying to fill every silence. Eddie just listens, smiling, letting his hand brush Buck’s every so often.
Then Buck pulls him toward a booth to take a photo. “C’mon, it’s tradition. Selfie with the festival banner.”
Eddie leans in close, hand on Buck’s back, smiling wide. The photo snaps, and before Buck can step away, Eddie says, “Can we take one more? Just us?”
Buck raises an eyebrow. “Wasn’t that already-”
Eddie shifts, turning to face him more directly, eyes warm and open. “Like, one of those photos couples take.”
Buck blinks. “Couples?”
Eddie’s heart skips. “I just mean… sorry, I thought—I thought we were kind of… here together. Like, together together.”
Buck looks stunned, mouth open slightly.
“Oh,” he says, quietly. “I didn’t realize…”
Eddie steps back a little, embarrassment creeping up his neck. “I—yeah. Never mind. I thought we were on the same page.”
Buck shakes his head quickly, stepping closer again. “Wait, Eds, no. I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I just didn’t want to assume. You were still figuring things out and I didn’t want to… push.”
Eddie looks at him, hopeful. “So… if I did want this to be a date?”
Buck smiles, soft and wide, all sunshine and nerves. “Then I’m the luckiest guy here.”
Eddie laughs, relief rushing in like breath. “Okay. Cool. Good.”
Buck grins. “Want to hand out these cookies?”
Eddie takes his hand, easy now. “Only if you don’t tell anyone the bad ones were mine.”
Buck squeezes it gently. “No promises.”
Once their hands are joined, everything feels different. Not in a huge, dramatic way, but in the small, honest moments that add up to something real.
They wander through the crowd, weaving between booths and performers, music and laughter swirling around them. The sun is high, the world alive with color. It’s not overwhelming, not when they’re together.
“Face paint?” Buck asks, nudging Eddie toward a booth where someone with silver glitter eyebrows is expertly painting tiny flags on cheeks and arms.
“I don’t know…” Eddie says warily, eyeing the rainbow samples.
“You wore a rainbow heart on your chest. You can handle a little color on your face.”
Buck goes first, sitting confidently as a teen with a sharp eyeliner wing and a Pride flag cape carefully paints the bisexual flag stripes on his cheek—pink, purple, and blue. Eddie watches, a smile tugging at his lips.
When it’s Eddie’s turn, he hesitates, until Buck squeezes his hand.
“I’ve got you,” he says simply.
So Eddie sits, lets them paint the soft stripes of the gay flag—shades of blue, green, and white—on his cheek. When the artist offers glitter, Buck nods enthusiastically for both of them and Eddie groans, knowing he’s going to be peeling it off himself until Christmas.
They end up dancing, eventually. It starts with Buck tugging him toward a stage where people are swaying and moving in the late afternoon light. Eddie is hesitant, stiff at first, but Buck? Buck is effortless. Loose, laughing, throwing his arms up like he’s inviting the sky to join in.
Eddie watches him, warmth blooming in his chest, and then… he moves. He lets go. He lets the music take him. Their laughter folds into the beat, their bodies syncing, hands finding each other again and again.
They get tacos from a truck that claims to have the best Pride hot sauce (“We only use glitter if requested,” the cashier jokes), and they eat sitting cross-legged on a curb, watching a group of kids blow giant rainbow bubbles nearby.
Everywhere they go, Buck touches Eddie. A hand on his arm, fingers brushing his back, knuckles grazing his thigh. And each touch is gentle, grounding. Eddie leans into it, more each time.
They ended up running into Hen and Karen and ate dinner with them before they went on their own way. As the sun starts to dip, they make their way to the grassy hill overlooking the park. It’s where everyone is gathering to watch the fireworks. People spread out blankets and cuddle up in twos and threes, soft chatter rolling through the twilight.
Buck lays back on the grass, hands behind his head. “This is the best day I’ve had in a long time.”
Eddie lies down beside him, close enough that their arms touch. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Me too.”
The fireworks start with a quiet boom, and a cascade of gold sparks fills the sky. The crowd cheers, some people whistle, others gasp.
They watch in silence for a minute, light dancing across their faces.
Then Buck turns his head toward Eddie. “I meant it, you know. About being lucky.”
Eddie meets his gaze, eyes soft. “I know. I feel it too.”
Another burst of color lights up the sky, pinks and blues and purples reflecting in Buck’s eyes.
Eddie leans in first. Buck meets him halfway.
The kiss is quiet. Not tentative, not rushed. Just… right. Like everything they’d been trying to say all day finally found its voice.
When they pull back, the world is still exploding above them, but nothing feels as loud as the way Eddie is smiling.
Buck laughs under his breath. “Happy Pride, Eds.”
Eddie leans his head against Buck’s shoulder, watching the fireworks light up the night.
“Yeah,” he says. “Happy Pride.”
The morning after Pride is quiet in the Diaz household. The kind of quiet that settles into your bones after a night of feeling everything.
Eddie stands in the kitchen in pajama pants and a faded tee, pouring orange juice into three glasses. His cheek is still faintly tinted with the edges of the gay pride flag, despite washing his face twice. He kind of likes that it’s still there.
Chris walks into the kitchen, already halfway through a donut.
“You guys looked good yesterday,” he says casually, like he’s talking about a baseball game and not the emotional milestone of Eddie’s life.
Eddie raises an eyebrow. “You saw us?”
“Mmmhmm.” Chris takes another bite. “Hen posted a photo. You and Buck. Face paint. And that one where you’re holding hands.”
Eddie clears his throat. “Ah. That.”
Chris grins. “You kissed him too, didn’t you?”
Eddie stares. “How do you—?”
“I know things,” Chris says smugly. “I have the internet.”
Eddie walks over and places a kiss on top of Chris’s curls. “I was going to tell you this morning.”
“I figured. You look… happy.”
Eddie blinks. Chris doesn’t say it like a throwaway comment. He says it like he’s seen him. Like he knows.
“I am,” Eddie says quietly. “I’m still figuring things out, but I’m really happy.”
Chris nods, and then, as if granting permission: “You guys can be gross around me sometimes. Not too gross. But, you know, like a little bit.”
Eddie laughs. “I’ll let Buck know.”
As if summoned, there’s a knock on the door. Eddie opens it to find Buck in his Pride shirt and flannel pajama pants, holding a Tupperware container and two coffees. He had stayed with Maddie and Chimney last night, something about Maddie having false labor contractions.
“I brought the leftover cookies and caffeine,” he announces. “And no glitter this time.”
“Bless you,” Eddie says, tugging him inside with a smile that he’s no longer trying to hide.
Chris salutes him with his donut. “Welcome, step-dad.”
Buck chokes on his coffee.
Eddie looks mortified. “Chris!”
Chris shrugs. “What? I’m just trying it out. He’s your boyfriend now.”
Buck, recovering, gives a crooked smile. “I mean, if you’re okay with that title…”
Eddie looks between his son and the man who’s been in his life longer than most. His heart says yes before his mouth even catches up.
“I’m okay with it.”
Chris claps once, all smug teenager energy. “Cool. I’m gonna go finish my game.”
When he walks out, Eddie and Buck just stand there for a moment, smiles lingering.
“Want to watch cartoons and eat cookies for breakfast?” Eddie asks, voice low.
“With my boyfriend?” Buck teases.
Eddie rolls his eyes, but his grin betrays him. “Shut up and get on the couch.”
They settle in, tangled comfortably under a blanket, cookies in hand and the TV playing in the background. The world outside moves on, but inside this house, inside Eddie’s chest, everything feels new and steady.
And for the first time in a long time, he’s not afraid of what comes next.
***
Six months later
Buck wakes up to the weight of a leg draped across his hips and a quiet snore tickling the back of his neck.
It’s still a novelty, waking up like this. Not the snoring, that’s just Eddie being Eddie. But the rest of it. The slow stretch of morning light spilling through Eddie’s bedroom window. The warmth of Chris’s laughter echoing from the kitchen. The soft brush of fingers trailing absentmindedly along his side.
He shifts onto his back, careful not to jostle Eddie too much.
“You awake?” he whispers.
Eddie hums, not opening his eyes. “Not really.”
“Chris is up.”
“Of course he is. He’s never slept in a day in his life.”
Buck chuckles. “Should I make coffee?”
Eddie finally opens one eye. “If you get up, I’ll just follow you five minutes later. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Buck says, smiling. “I know.”
It’s a Saturday. No shifts. No alarms. No emergencies.
Just the three of them. Pancakes probably. Maybe a trip to the zoo later. A movie tonight if Chris doesn’t fall asleep halfway through again.
There’s something sacred in the normal now.
A few months ago, everything was big—big feelings, big conversations, big realizations. Pride had been a turning point. A rainbow-colored, glitter-dusted, firework-ending kind of turning point. The start of something neither of them had been able to name for years.
Now? It’s the small things that feel just as monumental.
Like Eddie stealing his hoodies when he thinks Buck won’t notice.
Or the way Chris rolls his eyes but secretly smiles every time they sneak a kiss in the kitchen.
Or the way Hen casually refers to them as the dads when they’re all out together.
Buck swings his legs off the bed and pads quietly into the hallway. Chris is already halfway through his cereal, eyes glued to a superhero movie.
“Hey,” Buck says, leaning against the doorway.
“Morning,” Chris mumbles around a mouthful.
“You okay if I take your dad on a date tonight?”
Chris looks up, blinking. “You don’t have to ask, you know.”
Buck grins. “I know. But I like to check in with the boss.”
Chris smirks. “You better bring him home by curfew.”
“Yes, sir.”
He’s halfway through pouring coffee when arms wrap around his waist from behind and a chin rests on his shoulder.
“I thought you were sleeping,” Buck says, smiling.
Eddie’s voice is still rough from sleep. “You’re warm. I got lonely.”
Buck leans back into him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Eddie’s arms tighten for just a second. “I know.”
They stand there for a moment, breathing in sync, the hum of cartoons and the scent of coffee wrapping around them like a blanket.
And for Buck, for the guy who used to chase chaos just to feel something, this stillness, this love, this life… it’s everything.