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Five years ago, if anyone had asked Buck, he’d say rain was his favorite. He used to love to sit in his window in his childhood bedroom and watch the raindrops fall, pretending that they were in a race.
And then Eddie got trapped in a well. It was raining then and for a while, all Buck could see when it rained was the mud on top of Eddie. The mud he couldn’t dig through.
Eventually, he got to where he’d be able to sleep through the night during a storm without feeling clammy. Over time, a year or two later, he was back to sitting near his window, reading a book or going on a deep dive, watching the storm pass through.
And then he was struck by lightning. That was two years ago, and Buck still jumps when he sees rain in the forecast. Or worse, when a storm pops up out of nowhere. Those are the worst.
***
Buck is in the kitchen, cleaning up after baking a cake for Bobby’s birthday, whistling along to some song he’d heard on the radio earlier, when it happens.
He sees the lightning first, his sink being right in front of a window. Then he hears the thunder, loud and intruding on the peace that baking brings.
He drops the bowl he was washing in the sink, the soap splashing up in his face. It wasn’t raining when Eddie was shot, but the warm water reminds him of that day anyway.
Backing away from the sink with shortness of breath, Buck makes it to his living room before he collapses into the carpet. He hasn’t reacted this bad in a while, but maybe it’s because this is the first storm he’s been through in his own apartment in a while.
The last time it stormed, Eddie and Chris had been right there beside him, distracting him until the storm had passed. But now Buck is alone, in his studio apartment, with nothing but the carpet Maddie had bought him to comfort himself from the storm.
Buck tries to take a deep breath, but the sound of rain pattering against the roof makes his entire body shake. His phone starts to ring in his pocket, but he’s too numb to move to answer it. It’s probably just spam anyway.
More lightning. More thunder. More rain.
Buck isn’t sure how long he lies there, tracing circles into the carpet, when there’s a loud pounding at the door. At first, he thought it was the storm, the thunder there to take him finally. Until it continues.
“Buck?” He hears from the other side of the door.
Buck tries to respond, but his throat closes up.
“Buck, come on. Open the door.” It’s Eddie. It’s always Eddie.
“Can’t,” Buck manages to croak out.
“Okay,” Eddie says and his voice seems so far away, even though the front door isn’t even five feet away from where Buck is lying. “I’m using my key.”
Buck doesn’t respond; he just listens as the sound of the key in the door drowns out the sound of the rain for just a moment.
“Hey,” Eddie says, a lot closer now. The door closes and Eddie takes a few steps before sitting on the ground next to Buck.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, gently rubbing the top of Buck’s head. “I mean- well.”
Buck doesn’t answer, just takes a deep breath, Eddie’s presence being enough to finally start to ground himself.
“I tried calling you,” Eddie says softly. “When you didn’t answer…well, I knew you were probably struggling.”
Buck still stays silent, stays still.
“I-“ he hears Eddie take a deep breath. “Jesus, Evan. I hate storms too.”
And that’s…well…Buck never knew that.
“I’m terrified of them,” Eddie admits.
“Every time it storms, I hate letting you out of my sight.”
Huh.
“I know there’s a low probability of you getting struck again,” Eddie's voice sounds weak. “But there was supposed to be an impossible chance of you getting stuck the first time, and it happened anyway.”
“Ed-“
“And I can’t lose you again,” Eddie sniffles. “It would break me.”
***
Buck isn’t sure how long they sit there together. Long enough for the store to pass.
“This is embarrassing,” Buck finally says, turning his face (which is covered in marks from the carpet) towards Eddie. Eddie smiles fondly at him and pushes the hair that had fallen into his forehead.
“Come back home,” Eddie says.
“What?”
“Come back home,” Eddie repeats. “Where you belong. With me and with Christopher.”
Buck’s heart stutters.
“Eddie,” he sighs, moving to sit up. “I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?” Eddie asks, moving closer, resting a hand on his knee. “It’s not like we were bad roommates.
“No,” Buck lets out a half-hearted laugh. “You weren’t.”
“Then why can’t you?” Eddie asks, shaking his head slightly. “We had a good thing going.”
Buck takes a breath and then looks away. “That’s the problem.”
“I don’t follow.”
“We had a good thing, Eddie. A great thing,” Buck sniffles. “And…and it hurts.”
“It hurts?”
“Eddie, please.”
“Buck, look at me.”
Buck shakes his head but then he feels a hand on his chin, turning his face back towards Eddie.
“Talk to me,” Eddie says softly. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
Buck laughs once, using his left hand to wipe his eyes.
“I’m in love with you, you idiot.”
Eddie leans back with wide eyes. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Buck turns back away. “So, no. I can’t move back in with you and Christopher because it hurts to goddamn much to sit there, on your couch, in your kitchen, and pretend like it’s a life I get to have when I can’t.”
Things are silent for a second before Eddie speaks again. “Why can’t you?”
Buck turns slowly towards Eddie.
“Why can’t I?”
Eddie nods. “Why can’t you have that life?”
“Because I’m a man, and you’re a man, and you’re straight.”
“Yes, yes and not yes.”
It’s Buck’s turn to look at Eddie with wide eyes. “Not yes?”
“Not yes.”
“Since…since when?”
Eddie grins. “Since forever, I would assume.”
“But-you…you didn’t say anything.”
“Because… I was planning to tell you. I planned a nice dinner, got Chris to find a friend to stay the night with, and then you went and came into the house talking about this amazing apartment you found and ruined my plans.”
“Your plans to tell me…” Buck’s brain isn’t fully back online yet, so he needs Eddie to spell it out for him completely.
“To tell you that I love you,” Eddie says, grabbing both of Buck’s hands in his. “To tell you to stop looking for new places to live, to stop sleeping on the couch. I had so many things I wanted to tell you, and you had to go and find this shitbox of an apartment.”
“You love me?”
“So much,” Eddie says, moving in even closer and pressing his forehead against Buck’s. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”
“That’s okay,” Buck says with a soft grin. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
And maybe, Buck can learn to love the rain again.