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It's been a long couple of weeks.
It's not that Chris doesn't love his Tia Adriana, staying with her is nicer than staying with his grandparents. She's funny, and she buys all the snacks that Dad doesn't usually let him get, and she likes to watch Star Wars TV shows with him in the evenings. It's just that Chris misses Dad. And things are still weird and a little complicated between them but it doesn't change the fact that Chris misses him. Misses home. Misses Buck.
It's almost 11pm on Friday when Tia Adriana's phone rings. They're in the middle of an episode of The Mandalorian when her phone screen lights up on the coffee table. It's Dad's contact photo.
"Eddie?" Adriana answers the phone as Chris hits pause on the remote. "What's up?"
Chris can't make out the response on the other end of the line, just the faint low rumble of his dad's voice, but it has his aunt's eyebrows creasing with concern and she makes a 'hang on' motion to Chris before she gets off the couch and starts pacing around the kitchen, phone clutched tightly to her ear.
"Okay, slow down. I'm sure it wasn't that -" Adriana cuts off, frown deepening.
There's a beat while Dad speaks, Chris still can't hear what he's saying, but he's talking loudly enough that a few words are audible even without speakerphone. Chris distinctly picks out the words 'Buckley' and 'spiralling' and 'lost him.'
Apprehension twists uncomfortably in Christopher's stomach and his palms start to sweat. Did something else terrible happen? Is something wrong with Buck?
"You said all that?" Adriana asks, sounding incredulous rather than alarmed, her eyes widening. "What did he say?"
Chris tries to catch Adriana's attention, hoping for some context on whatever is going on over there. He doesn't understand why Dad wouldn't just call him about something important.
"You want..." Adriana trails off, her expression changing to one of confusion. "Eddie, I don't think that's -"
Dad must cut her off, because she's quiet for several seconds, lips pursed. Finally, she looks over at Chris and gives him a tight, reassuring smile. He relaxes minutely and unclenches his fists, wiping his clammy palms on his jeans.
"Okay," she sighs after a moment. "I still think you should just try to talk to him though."
Who's she referring to, Chris wonders. Does she want Dad to talk to him about whatever this unprompted late-night phone-call is about? A second later, his question is answered though.
"I know you don't like to talk about your feelings," Adriana shoots back, countering whatever unsatisfactory reply she's just received from Dad. "But you are both grown adults who are capable of addressing your emotions."
So Dad and Buck are fighting. That's surprising, actually, because Chris is pretty sure Dad has only stayed in Los Angeles this long because of Buck and, aside from the almost constant banter they engage in, Dad and Buck don't really fight. Not unless it's something really serious.
Like that time, years ago, when Buck sued the fire department. Chris doesn't really remember that with much clarity, he was still pretty young. Just that Dad had been in a constantly bad mood, stomping around the house and muttering under his breath when he thought Chris couldn't hear. And how Dad would get this distant, subdued look in his eyes every time Chris asked if they could see Buck soon and his reply would always be the same, 'not yet, buddy,' but the inflection in his voice would range from frustrated, to disappointed, to just plain sad.
"Yeah, yeah, he's here, one sec." Adriana's voice pulls Chris from his musings. "Chris," she says, moving the phone away from her ear and holding it out to him. "Your dad wants to talk to you."
Chris takes the phone, more curious than anxious now, but still a little on his guard.
"Hi dad."
"Hey, bud." Dad's voice sounds strained, like he's really tired. "How's it going?"
"Fine," Chris answers shortly. "What's going on with Buck?" he asks, cutting to the chase since he knows Dad will dance around it for as long as possible.
There's a long, deep sigh on the other end of the line. "Um," Dad says. "I - I think he's having a pretty rough time," he admits softly.
Christopher's face falls.
He misses Bobby too. It sort of feels the same as it did when his great grandpa passed a few years ago. Like a warm, reassuring light that Chris could always count on had been snuffed out. It had been almost a year since Chris last saw Bobby and somehow that had made it both easier and harder. The distance made the loss a little less abrupt but it made the already fading memories hurt more.
Chris doesn't know much about Buck's real parents. He's never even met them and Buck doesn't talk about them. Chris has overheard Dad refer to them a couple of times, in conversations with Buck or, on one notable occasion, during a phone call with Tia Adriana where he'd gotten so heated that he'd slipped into a string of swift cursing in Spanish. So from what Chris has gathered, it doesn't seem like Buck's parents are very involved in his life.
When he thinks about any sort of parental figure in relation to Buck, it's always been Bobby. Bobby who taught Buck how to cook and, by product of osmosis, passed the same recipes and techniques on to Chris. Bobby, who came over and helped Buck take care of him after Dad was shot. Chris had seen the way they interacted then. How Bobby would speak to Buck with soft kind words and lay a hand gently on his shoulder. How Buck would always look comforted and more at ease after those interactions. He thinks that Buck must feel about Bobby the same way Chris feels about Buck.
Losing a parent sucks, Chris knows that better than most, he wishes Buck didn't have to know too.
"But is Buck okay?" Chris presses.
"Yeah," Dad confirms, although he sounds hesitant. "He's okay, he's just ... sad," there's a short pause before he admits, "we both are."
"I'm sorry, dad," Chris says, barely above a whisper. "Me too."
"I know you are, bud. I know and I'm sorry that I haven't been there. I just -"
"It's fine," Chris cuts him off at the pass before Dad can go down one of his inadequacy spirals. "Buck needs you there."
Another sigh crackles across the line, staticky and drawn out.
"I think," Dad begins haltingly. "I think Buck needs his family." There's a brief pause, like he's trying to decide whether or not he should voice his next question. "How would you feel about coming out here for a visit?" The words tumble out in a rush, like he's trying to push them out before he can reconsider.
"Really?" Chris asks, surprised and a little hopeful. "When?"
"Uh, tom - does tomorrow work?" Dad asks, stumbling over his words like he's distracted. "There's a flight I'm seeing here that leaves at, uhhhh, 9:15am from El Paso airport."
He's looking at flights while they're talking, Chris realizes. Dad is trying to get him on the soonest flight.
"Tomorrow?" Chris echoes. And, it's not like he has anything to do tomorrow, he just wasn't expecting to fly to Los Angeles with less than 24-hours notice.
"Yeah, you'd have to get there at seven so Adriana might have to -" Dad stops short in the middle of frantically relaying travel plans. "Do you want to come?" he asks belatedly, like he's only just remembered that Christopher hasn't answered yet.
"Yes." There's no hesitation behind it. Chris doesn't even have to think about it. He wants to be home, wants to see Dad, but, most importantly, he wants to be there for Buck like Buck has been there for him so many times before. And Dad seems to think that his being there will help Buck. So it's not even a question.
"Okay, okay, good." There's another pause and Chris can hear Dad tapping away at his phone screen. "It's confirmed," he says after a startlingly short amount of time. "I'll text you and Adri the details. You've just got a carry-on so pack light, we can always do laundry at home if we're here for a while."
It's unusual for Dad to be this vague, this disorganized. He's so clearly distracted that it gives Christopher pause. It makes him wonder.
"Dad," he says, pointed, questioning. "What's going on with Buck, really?"
"He's just -" a small huff. "I think that I -" Dad cuts himself off again and Chris can picture the way his face is twisting up like he's tasted something bitter. It always does that when he's trying really hard to talk about something important, because he knows it's the right thing to do but hates every second of it.
"I just think it would be good for him to have you here," Dad says after a moment, sounding more calm and assured. "Good for us. All of us."
"Yeah," Chris agrees. "It'll be good for us to be together. As a family."
"A family, yes."
-
Chris arrives at LAX the next morning feeling tired and a little excited. He's never flown on his own before. Tia Adriana had gone right with him to the gate, Dad had been very specific about that, and then he'd had one of the stewardesses assigned to check in on him throughout the flight. It seemed a bit overkill, but she was nice and brought Chris an extra cookie so he couldn't complain too much.
Dad meets him right outside his gate in Los Angeles and pulls Chris into such a crushing hug he thinks his vertebrae might rearrange a little.
"I'm so glad to see you," Dad says, still squeezing tightly as he presses a kiss to the top of Christopher's hair with a muffled 'mwuah' sound. "I missed you so much, mijo."
"I missed you too," Chris mumbles back into his jacket, feeling more than a little embarrassed to be greeted so affectionately in public. He'd pull away if Dad didn't sound so genuinely relieved, like seeing Chris is the best thing that's happened to him in weeks.
"Okay." Dad finally releases him, but leaves his hands on Chris' shoulders to hold him at arm's length, looking him over. "We'd better get out of here."
It hasn't even been a full two weeks since he left but somehow Dad looks different. He looks sort of, well, terrible actually - dark circles under his eyes like he hasn't slept all night, and the scar on his bottom lip is more prominent than usual, like it always gets when he's been chewing on it - but there's something else, something beneath the exhaustion and strain and grief. He looks softer somehow, more relaxed. Chris thinks that LA suits him much better than El Paso did. Dad looks more himself here. And then Chris notices that the outfit Dad's wearing isn't his own. For one thing Chris doesn't recognize any of the clothes and for another, they're all at least a size too big on him. Maybe it's not just Los Angeles that suits him.
They go to the zoo, which feels kind of wrong without Buck there, but Dad explains that he’s working today so they have time to kill before going home.
"Tia Pepa is going to pick us up this afternoon," Dad says as they head towards the entrance of the zoo. "She's really excited to see you."
"I'm excited to see her too!" Chris tells him sincerely. He's always liked Tia Pepa and it's been months since Chris has seen her. She had a stroke while he was in Texas and he'd spent weeks feeling guilty about being too far away to visit her in the hospital. He'd mailed a card, but it hadn't felt like enough.
"How's she doing?"
"Good." Dad gives him a reassuring smile. "She's recovered really well."
"I'm glad." Chris knew she was doing okay, but having confirmation still eases his mind.
"Giraffes over there?" Dad asks, pointing at the huge map above the entryway. Buck wouldn't have to check the map, he and Chris have the whole place memorized.
"Yeah," Chris confirms enthusiastically.
Giraffes have always been one of his favourite animals and so it's sort of a family tradition to make the savanna pavilion the first stop.
They grab breakfast on the way over, stopping in at one of the overpriced zoo cafes that has paw prints painted on the walls and animal names for all the drinks. Dad gets a Monkey Mocha while Chris opts for Koala Cocoa.
Dad is quiet while they eat on a bench outside the savanna pavilion. It's a nice day but it's too early for the zoo to be at the height of its business yet, so Chris notes the silence more than he might otherwise.
"What's up?" Dad notices Chris watching him and he straightens up where he's sitting, like if he can square his shoulders enough he can shake whatever's bothering him.
"Are you angry with Buck?" Chris asks carefully, tilting his head to one side to study Dad's expression.
A series of complicated emotions pass over his face, flashing through too quickly for Chris to identify any of them. After a moment, Dad sighs. "No.” He shakes his head. “I'm not angry, a little frustrated maybe, but honestly I think that's more my fault than Buck's." He scrubs a hand across his face.
Chris waits, he doesn't ask a follow up question. He sips his hot chocolate and, eventually, Dad keeps talking.
"Being back here I've - I think maybe -" He clears his throat and tries again. "Things with Buck and I are a little... complicated right now."
Chris frowns. Buck and Dad aren't complicated. That's not what they do, it isn't how they operate. They've always been a team as much at home as they are at work. When there are things Dad can't do or needs help with, Buck is always there to pitch in, easy as that, trading off like clockwork.
"Complicated how?" Chris asks skeptically.
Dad pushes a slow, heavy exhale out through his nose. "I think I really hurt him when I left," he admits quietly and Chris' stomach drops.
Dad had left because of him. Making the choice to go Texas had hurt Buck, it had apparently made things complicated for Buck and Dad, it had made it so Dad wasn't even here for Buck after Bobby. Their little family is falling apart and it's all Christopher's fault.
"Hey." Dad's voice pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts immediately, firm and steady. "Look at me."
Chris looks and Dad tilts his head down to make eye contact in that way he does when he wants to make sure Chris is listening to him.
"You are my first priority, kid. Always. I wouldn't change going after you for anything, ever. This is not your fault." Dad holds eye contact, looking at Chris intently until he slowly nods in acknowledgment.
"Okay," Chris whispers.
"I mean it." Dad reaches up to squeeze his shoulder. It's warm and reassuring and Chris leans into him for comfort like he did when he was a little kid. Dad wraps an arm around his shoulders.
"What's going on with Buck and I isn't about you, okay? If it hadn't been Texas it would have been something else," Dad explains. "There's just .... a lot of feelings there," he concludes vaguely.
"Feelings?" Chris asks pointedly, raising an eyebrow.
Dad huffs a small, shuddering laugh. He shrugs. "Yeah," he says softly, eyes a little distant. "Feelings."
"It's okay, dad," Chris says quietly. "It's okay if you have feelings for Buck."
He says it because he thinks Dad needs to hear it. He isn't sure if anyone has ever told him it's okay to have feelings and he thinks he might put a lot less pressure on himself to keep everything inside if someone told him.
Dad makes a choked off little sound that he hastily hides by taking a sip of his coffee.
"Is it okay if I don't know what they are?" he asks after a moment and he sounds so hesitant, like he's waiting for Christopher's approval before he gives it any more thought.
"Yeah." Chris nods. "That's okay too."
"Okay." Dad squeezes his shoulder again. "For now let's just leave it at that. The timing isn't right for anything else."
Chris isn't sure exactly what he means about the timing. In his limited experience, feelings never stick to a schedule.
Dad takes a deep breath. "Right now everything is just the same. We're still - he's just -"
"He's our Buck," Chris finishes for him. "And we love him."
"Yeah," Dad agrees quietly. "He is and we do."
They don't really talk about Buck after that, except in the way they usually do, when he just naturally comes up in conversation in relation to a topic, which is honestly a lot of the time. But they don't talk about Dad-and-Buck. Chris is okay with that. He's glad he can just sit with it for a while.
It's not that Chris would have a problem with it if they got together, it would make a lot of sense.
In fact, once, when Chris was little, he'd asked Dad why him and Buck weren't married after finding out that another boy in his class had two dads. The prospect of Buck being his other dad hadn't filled him with the same sick dread he got when he thought about any of Dad's girlfriends being his new mom. Buck didn't feel like he was replacing someone else, he just felt like an addition. Something different but equally important.
When Chris had asked, Dad had gone red and stumbled over an answer about sexualities and how him and Buck were both straight (a lie, as it turned out, though Chris couldn't blame him for that at the time), and Chris had never brought it up again. But sometimes, especially as he got older, he still wondered about them. Because Chris has best friends and he doesn't look at them like Dad looks at Buck. He doesn't feel the need to be around them every waking second, or find an excuse to turn every little chore and errand into a two-person job.
Regardless, he'd accepted the fact that Buck and Dad, despite not being one, acted like a married couple, despite both being straight. And then Buck came out and, for some unfathomable reason, started dating his horrible troll boyfriend instead of Dad. Chris had half expected Dad to break up with Marisol after Buck came out, but he hadn't and then everything went to shit and Chris has tried to think as little as possible about the future of his dad's love life - it always seems to end horribly. And that's the catch. Buck is different.
Chris loves Buck. He doesn't think he could ever bear to lose him from his life, he thinks it might feel like losing Mom all over again. Because even before she'd died, she'd left. Left Dad, left him, and that had hurt just as bad. Almost worse really, because at least the car accident hadn't been her choice but leaving, the first time, had. Buck had once promised Chris that he wasn't going to leave, that he'd always be there for him and then Chris went left instead and Buck, like Dad, had respected that, given him space. It had been awful.
Despite the distance that's grown between their family in the last months though, Chris still doesn't think that Buck would ever leave him, but he's not so sure about Dad, especially if they're already fighting now that feelings are involved. Maybe it's for the best that Dad isn't interested in changing anything right now.
"I know the situation is pretty awful, but I'm glad I could come home," Chris remarks when they're standing side by side in the garden pavilion watching the butterflies.
"Yeah?" Dad looks over at him and he looks pleased.
"Yeah." Chris nods. "I've really missed it," he admits.
It had taken less than a week living in Texas with his grandparents for Chris to want to go home. He'd still been mad at Dad, hadn't necessarily wanted to go home to him , but he had wanted to go home. So he'd tried the first line of defence whenever Dad was out of the equation. He'd phoned Buck.
Chris thought maybe he could come home and stay with Buck for a little bit while he sorted things out with Dad, he thought Buck might even be able to help them figure everything out.
"Hey bud," Buck had picked up the FaceTime call on the second ring. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah," Chris had confirmed. "I'm okay."
"Good." Buck had looked relieved. "I'm glad to hear that."
"How's dad?"
"You should talk to him," Buck had answered in that tone he uses which is the closest thing to being stern he can ever get with Chris, but then he'd added. "He misses you, we both do."
"I miss you, Buck," Chris had said, because he was still feeling sore and spiteful. But Buck hadn't done anything wrong.
"Yeah. How's everything with your grandparents?"
"Fine, I guess." Chris had shrugged. "But actually-"
"Evan, who are you on the phone with?" Chris had been cut off mid sentence by Buck's troll boyfriend (Dad scolded him for calling Tommy that so he decided to double down).
"I'm talking to Chris." Buck had snapped his head around to look at Tommy, tone a little sharp.
"Okay, well, shouldn't we be leaving for dinner?"
Chris's stomach had dropped. What was he doing? He couldn't just stay with Buck. Buck had his own life to worry about. It wasn't his responsibility to fix the problem Dad made in the first place, even if Buck would probably disagree. Buck was always wanting to fix things for everyone.
"Dinner can wait," Buck had responded firmly. "What were you calling to talk to me about, bud?" he asked, turning his full attention back to Chris.
"Oh, uh, nothing. Just wanted to say hi and catch up, see a familiar face, you know?" Chris had backtracked quickly.
"Right, sure." Buck smiled warmly. "Well, my face is right here."
Chris laughed even though it wasn't very funny, just to see Buck smile widen.
"If you're going out don't let me stop you, I didn't need anything. Just - just saying hi," Chris reiterated, feeling hollow.
"Okay, but you can call anytime. I'm always here and you're more important than dinner," Buck had assured him warmly, but Chris overheard Tommy's scoff in the background.
"Thanks, Buck. Bye."
"Bye."
Next Chris had tried bringing it up to his grandparents. He hadn't asked to go home directly, he'd just dropped hints and hypotheticals. He'd started saying things like 'when I go back home' and 'once I'm in LA I can do that.' This approach hadn't been met with any kind of success. Pretty soon Grandma started saying things like 'your dad is quite busy, you know. It might be a while before the timing for a visit could work out.’ Chris wasn't talking about just visiting LA.
The longer he stayed, the harder it was to bring up. He felt guilty somehow, every time he talked about home. His grandma would be quick to talk about one of the programs and clubs they'd signed him up for and remind him of 'how much fun' he was having. Chris always said he was having fun, even when he didn't like one of the activities, just because he felt bad that his grandparents were spending all that money and making such an effort to make him happy while he lived with them.
Before he knew it, they were talking about enrolling him in a school in El Paso and Grandma just kept on talking about how busy Dad was, and how hard it could be to balance Christopher's busy calendar on top of a firefighter's schedule. Dad had never seemed to have a problem managing before. Then again, Dad had never lied to Chris before either. Maybe he'd been hiding from Chris just how hard it was to have him around.
His grandparents sure made it seem like he was a lot of extra work. Not in a bad way, they always assured him. They said they loved him, and that having him around was a blessing but just that they were better equipped to have him around since they were both retired anyway and didn't have much else going on. Most of the time the 'unlike your father' was unspoken, but sometimes it wasn't.
That day at the chess tournament, Chris really had been surprised to hear that Dad wanted them to live together again. He was so convinced that he'd been making Dad's life so hard that he didn't want Chris around that much anymore.
"You were missing LA?" Dad asks cautiously, head tilting to one side while he studies Christopher’s face.
"Yeah." Chris shrugs. "It's no big deal," he's quick to add.
He knows he can't ask to move back, not after Dad already upended his entire life to go to El Paso. There's the house there now and Chris knows that Dad is on the roster to get hired for the fire department there any time.
"It's just nice to be back for a little bit," Chris qualifies.
"Right, a little bit." Dad looks away, his eyes tracking the movement of a butterfly fluttering past. He looks almost wistful. Chris wonders if Dad misses living here as much as he does. He wishes he'd never gone away.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, bud?" He pulls his attention from the butterfly, his gaze instantly returning to Christopher.
"Do you think we should take some pictures of the butterflies to show Buck?"
"Yeah," Dad agrees immediately, a soft smile spreading over his face. "I think that's a great idea."
Chris does want to take pictures for Buck, because he knows he'll appreciate them and it might cheer him up a bit. But Chris also wants to take the pictures for himself too, then he'll have one more nice memory of home to look at when they're back in Texas.
They even take a selfie together and Chris takes a photo of Dad using his .5 lens that makes his face both squished and elongated at once.
"Christopher! Delete that!" Dad scolds, his face turning red with embarrassment.
"No," Chris disagrees dismissively. "It's funny. I'm sending it to Buck."
"No, wait!" Dad lunges for his phone. "You can't text Buck."
"Why not?" Chris asks suspiciously, thumb hovering over the send button.
"He, uh, he doesn't know you're here," Dad explains, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's kind of a surprise."
"A surprise," Chris repeats, raising his eyebrows. "I'm staying in his house and you didn't even tell him?"
"Well, yeah," Dad hesitates, looking a little defensive. "It's Buck's house, we aren't exactly guests."
-
"Dad, stop being weird," Chris complains from his place at the dining table.
"Listen to your son, Eddie," Tia Pepa chimes in. "You'll wear a hole in the floor with all that pacing."
"But he's almost here!" Dad objects, not stilling his incessant movement.
"And he won't get here any faster with you worrying," Pepa tells him, tossing Chris a shrug and a look of commiseration before returning to the kitchen.
"Okay, okay, you've got this, Eddie," Dad mutters under his breath, definitely speaking more to himself than Chris.
"It's just Buck," Chris reminds him, rolling his eyes.
"Yes." Dad turns around and points at him, like Chris has just pointed out something of deep significance. "Exactly," he says. "It's Buck ."
"Whatever that means," Chris mutters, watching his father begin walking in little circles around the coffee table. It's dizzying and Chris has to look away to avoid risking motion sickness.
"Buck needs to know that we're here for him," Dad says seriously, pausing to set his hands on his hips. He seems to reconsider it because he immediately drops his hands to his sides, balls them into fists and starts pacing in the opposite direction.
"Yeah, Dad, I'm pretty sure he's gonna pick up on that part," Chris replies sarcastically, although truth be told he's not actually annoyed in the slightest.
Sure, Dad is being a little weird and a little neurotic, but Chris knows it's just because this is important to him. It's because he cares so much and, for some reason, just like his negative emotions, Dad refuses to express positive ones aloud either. So he keeps on wearing down the floorboards while he keeps his eyes glued to his phone screen and tracks what Chris knows to be the dot of Buck's location as it travels towards home.
By the time Buck finally arrives, which probably only takes 20 minutes in total, but feels like hours thanks to Dad's pacing, Chris and Pepa have been instructed to stay where they are in the kitchen and dining room respectively, until Dad has had a chance to talk to Buck and 'prepare him for the surprise.’
Respectfully, Chris thinks that's a bunch of bullshit and that Dad just wants to show off and make this family dinner, which could be perfectly casual and normal, a whole production. But who's Chris to stop him when he seems so excited?
Dad throws Chris an anticipatory little wink over his shoulder as he carefully leans against the wall when they hear Buck's key turning in the lock.
The door opens and there's a thud as Buck sets down his bag. When he speaks, he sounds tired. "I thought you went to Texas."
"When did I say that?" Dad asks, still leaning casually against the wall.
"In your note," Buck answers, vaguely irritated.
"My note said I was going to the airport," Dad disagrees lightly, which seems like a technicality to Chris.
He isn't sure why Dad wouldn't just text Buck, or, if he really wanted to keep it a surprise, tell Buck he was going out and would be back later. But whatever Dad and Buck do when they're left to their own devices, really isn't Christopher's concern. If he let it be, it would probably be incredibly headache inducing.
"Airport and Texas are not the same. They don't even have the same amount of letters," Dad continues, maintaining that same, lightly argumentative tone.
Chris smirks and has to bite his lip to keep from laughing audibly. Dad really is a bitch sometimes and it's always entertaining.
Buck sighs. "Why else would you go to the airport?" he challenges, sounding equally argumentative, and Chris is briefly worried they might start fighting again.
Dad has shifted away from the wall now, turning to face Buck head on. "I heard some dick was being mean to you," he answers, voice low.
To Christopher's horror, he realizes that Dad isn't trying to pick a fight, he's flirting, which is like a hundred times worse. Wow, his Dad and his Buck are so embarrassing sometimes.
"I thought you could use some cheering up." Dad steps back, finally revealing Christopher sitting in the dining room.
"Hi Buck." Chris watches Buck's face break into the most brilliant smile.
"Chris!" He exclaims, briefly shooting a look of disbelief at Dad. "Wh - I can't - I can't believe you're here," Buck stammers as he makes his way over to the dining table and crouches down.
Buck gives him a hug and Chris pats him on the back. There's a beat of silence when Buck leans back, both of them taking each other in. It's been so long since Chris saw Buck as anything other than a pixelated shape on a screen.
Beneath the surprise and excitement written across his features, Buck looks exhausted and the fleeting moment where Chris managed to forget why he's here in the first place, is gone.
"I'm sorry about Bobby," Chris tells him, because he isn't sure what else he can say.
"Yeah." Buck's face falls and the full weight of his sadness is briefly visible as he nods. "Yeah." He sets his hand on Christopher's knee. "Me too."
Wondering if it was the right thing to say, or if he just managed to make Buck more sad instead of less, Chris looks down, avoiding his eyes.
"Did you guys eat?" Buck asks, recovering himself almost instantly. "I could make us something," he offers, jostling Christopher's shoulder, which makes him smile. "Or we could go out."
Dad shakes his head. "Don't worry, we got it covered."
"Don't tell me you ordered pizza," Buck accuses playfully, getting to his feet.
Tia Pepa walks out of the kitchen to greet Buck and Chris exchanges a look with Dad as she pulls Buck into a hug. Dad's leaning against the wall again and he looks so pleased, perfectly content and at peace. Chris hasn't seen him smile like that since before Texas.
Love, Chris realizes, that's the look in his dad's eyes. Suddenly any of the apprehension Chris has been carrying since their conversation at the zoo, eases out of him. Dad was underselling it when he said he might have feelings for Buck. He's in love with him. It's clear as day, and Chris isn't scared anymore. They belong together, the three of them, Dad and Buck and Chris.
Later, after dinner, when Tia Pepa has gone home, the three of them squish together on the couch to play video games. Chris is getting a little big to fit between Buck and Dad as easily as he did when he was younger, so their elbows bump and their knees knock together as they play round after round of Mario Kart, but it doesn't matter. There's something sort of comforting about it even, Chris feels small again, surrounded by safety and familiarity.
It's the best night he's had since before he left for Texas and, as he looks between Buck and Dad's smiling faces, he lets himself imagine that maybe it could be like this always.