Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘Try to find the right place for yourself. If you can’t find it, at least dream of it.’

Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way: Mary Oliver

Eddie doesn’t really know how it happened. It wasn’t planned. It was never intentional. But somehow in the wake of Bobby’s death, he found himself in the most unlikely of situations, with two of the most unlikely of people.

A book club. With Maddie and Karen.

At least, there are worse things he could be doing to cope with the grief. 

It came about as an accident. The three of them were making mindless chatter during the memorial ceremony at the station for Bobby. The plaque and the name change that Eddie had mixed feelings about because it meant that Bobby was really gone, and he doesn’t exactly know how to deal with that.

Somehow, he found himself in the kitchen with Maddie and Karen—an unimaginable trio. 

He just wanted to get away from the noise and Bobby’s name being spoken behind every corner, and that's where they found him. Maddie first, then Karen. 

Nobody wanted to talk about why they were there. They didn’t want to be reminded of how they had to watch Chimney stutter through a speech about how brave Bobby was. They didn’t want to acknowledge the sullen frown taking permanent residence upon Buck’s face. 

Instead, Maddie randomly mentioned a book she wanted to read. Karen agreed, as did Eddie, even though he didn’t really know what they were talking about.

It had become a plan. The next day, Eddie was at the bookshop. A week and a half later, he found himself in Maddie’s kitchen, one glass of red wine deep and a laughter he feared he’d lost bursting out of him as Karen complained about the idiotic love interest. 

So it became a thing. A ritual that the three of them partake in. It’s a good distraction. It’s what Eddie has been missing. 

Chapter Text

‘Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.’

The Year of Magical Thinking: Joan Didion 

The day that ended up being the last day of Bobby’s life had begun ordinarily for Eddie. His new kind of ordinary—living in Texas as an Uber driver with his son finally under his roof again, so not really ordinary at all. It’s a life he could have never imagined. 

He got the call in the middle of the night. Karen had been the one to break the news. Eddie sat in the dark of his new bedroom and quietly sobbed into the palms of his hands so as not to wake Christopher down the hall while her words rang through his mind. 

Bobby is dead. 

Since the moment those words left Karen’s lips, life has never been the same. 

And now, with Eddie back in Los Angeles, where he belongs, living with his son and his best friend, and back at the job he actually likes—life moves on. The world keeps spinning and the sun keeps shining, even though it doesn’t feel like it should with Bobby gone. 

But Eddie knows grief. He hesitantly welcomes it like a familiar friend. He knows how to take it day by day; he knows how it keeps coming back whenever you least expect it. 

Though it seems Buck doesn’t know that. And Eddie doesn’t really know what to do about that. 

Grief is nothing like you expect it to be. It sneaks up on you. It debilitates you. Buck is learning that the hard way. 

Eddie pokes his head through the bedroom door, the very bedroom he shares with Buck, to find him curled up in a ball, eyes squeezed shut, with the lights out. 

It’s 3 pm. 

Eddie sighs, watching him. The way his chest moves as he breathes. If he dared to get any closer, he’d be counting every breath, making sure that Buck was still alive. 

To say that Buck hasn’t been taking Bobby’s death well would be an understatement. He’s a wreck. A loose cannon. 

And he refuses to show it, not even to Eddie, despite their current living arrangement. 

Eddie has just returned from the grocery store, an errand he and Buck used to do together, even before they were roommates. Buck loved it—it seems he doesn’t anymore. Instead, now he takes the option of an empty house to wallow in. Eddie can see the tear stains on the pillow beneath his head from here. 

He holds his breath as he steps up from leaning against the doorway and makes his way over to the bed. His eyes never leave Buck’s fragile frame while he inches closer, kneeling down by the side to watch Buck. His face seems puffy from what Eddie knows were uncontrollable tears. His fists are clenched by his side as he grips Eddie’s pillow with might. Eddie’s heart breaks alongside Buck’s. 

He doesn’t know how to help him. 

Hesitantly and carefully, Eddie brings a hand to caress the side of Buck’s face. He gently tracks the tips of his fingers there, stopping to wipe under his wet eyes. Buck blinks them open; they’re bloodshot. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers in the softest voice possible, as if he were trying to avoid scaring a small animal. 

Buck stares at him, his gaze blurry. Eddie exhales, “You okay?”

Buck doesn’t answer. He never answers that question anymore. 

Eddie tries a new approach. “Have you eaten? I can heat up the leftovers from last night.”

“Save them for Chris when he’s back from school,” Buck mumbles before turning over and facing his back to Eddie. He curls back into himself. 

Eddie crouches by the bed for a few moments more and watches Buck’s back. He frowns before eventually standing up. Buck does not react to any of his movements. Eddie inhales one last time before grabbing the book on his nightstand and making his way out of the room. He leaves the door open just a crack. 

Eddie’s at a loss for how to help Buck. His melancholy mood has been a constant since Bobby’s death, and Eddie can’t even blame him. He feels the same. Buck tries to hide it, especially around everyone else. Chris doesn’t know a thing. Nobody at work has suspected anything. Buck is a good actor, the perfect pretender, just not to Eddie. 

Eddie sees right through him, even when Buck doesn’t want him to. 

But just like that fight in their kitchen all those months ago, he still won’t let Eddie in, and Eddie simply doesn’t know what to do about it anymore. 

Buck was there to help Eddie mend his broken pieces, countless times. He was there when Shannon died. He was there when Eddie took a baseball bat to his bedroom walls. He was there when Christopher left. 

He just wants to be there for him now, if only Buck would let him in. 

Eddie finds himself sitting on the couch with this month’s book, a Joan Didion piece about the sudden death of her husband and the grief she experienced after. He wasn’t really familiar with her beforehand; he can’t say he’s ever been interested in a journalist’s work from about five decades ago, but it’s what Karen had chosen for the month. 

It’s somewhat ironic given the timing of things. It’s been six months since Bobby’s passing, and every day, it still feels like a slap in the face. The harsh reality they now live in. 

But the book does provide some insight. Eddie refuses to admit that he’s shed a tear here or there. It’s just all so familiar to him. It makes him think. He knows he’s going to have a lot to discuss with Maddie and Karen in a few days at their next meeting. 

As he sits there reading along, a particular passage grabs his attention. 

‘We are not idealized wild things. We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all.’

Eddie stares at the page. He lets the words sink in.

He thinks about Buck.

A part of them all died alongside Bobby in that lab, but most especially Buck. They cannot only mourn Bobby, but also the people they were who once lived with him. They’ve all changed; they can never be those people again. 

He misses the before—before everything changed. 

Buck will never be the man he was. Eddie mourns for that, too. 

He’s interrupted by the sound of the school bus pulling up outside the house. Eddie makes his way out the front door to meet Chris. He stands back and ensures Chris makes it into the house safely, exchanging small talk about his day. 

When Eddie shuts the door behind them, he finds that Buck has emerged from the darkness of the bedroom. His eyes are no longer bloodshot. His face has clearly been splashed with water as an attempt to hide his puffy, blotched cheeks. He fakes a smile, one that only Eddie notices doesn’t reach his eyes. 

The warning signs go unheard by Chris. He greets Buck warmly as they make their way into the kitchen. Eddie grabs his book and trails along, not wanting to miss a second of these two together. When Chris is home, Buck’s gloom disappears. It’s a pretence, Eddie knows that, but if it’s all he can get of the sunshine that was the old version of Buck, it’s what he’ll take. 

Eddie leans by the doorway, the book burning a hole in his hand, and watches. He watches as Buck pulls the leftovers he offered to him earlier out of the fridge for Chris. He watches Chris’ face light up. He watches as Buck’s doesn’t. 

“I don’t think I really get it,” Eddie says as he stares hard at the book cover like it will give him the answers. He may already be feeling a little buzzed from the continuous glasses of wine. 

He, Maddie, and Karen are all sitting around Maddie’s kitchen table, sipping their drinks and sharing a charcuterie board. It’s usually how all their book club meetings go. Today, however, there’s a more sombre tension in the air than usual. Eddie blames it on the battered book in his hands. 

“No? Why not?” Maddie probes. 

Eddie sighs at the question. The main struggle he’s had with the book club is that he’s never really been that good with words. He can never find the right way to articulate the thoughts running through his mind. “Well, I think I’m just mostly confused about the lack of emotion, in a way. Like, she takes a very… logical approach to his death. It’s all cold, hard facts, rather than emotions, I think.”

“Mm, that’s interesting,” Karen hums and snacks on a cracker, “I can see what you’re getting at, but also, I see it as more so detaching herself from the situation. Death is traumatic. People respond to that in many ways.” 

“I get that, trust me, I do. I just think she writes about it in a journalistic approach, like when she quotes literature and research and stuff, it can feel a bit cold at times,” he tries to explain.

“Oh, we all know how you feel about journalists,” Maddie teases, taking a sip of her wine. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. He hates how he knows exactly who she’s talking about. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

That’s another thing the book club has granted him, other than a distraction from how miserable life seems to be at this point. Him, Maddie and Karen have never really been that close, especially him and Maddie. Sure, with Karen, they tend to gossip in the corner whenever the team throws a gathering. There have been countless times he’d get roped into having a drink with her when he only came by to drop Chris off for a sleepover. But with Maddie, the two have never been that close, which is strange, given the fact that she’s the sister of his best friend. Somehow, he’s finding she knows a lot more about him than he’d have ever guessed.

And it’s not a bad thing. Maddie is a great person, and Eddie has always known that. He just never expected it. 

“I kinda feel the opposite,” Karen comments, “I wouldn’t say she’s unemotional; she’s in shock, and the only way she can process what’s happened is through research like she’s always done. I’ve read some of her other work, it checks out. I think I’d be the same in her situation, God forbid.” 

“Yeah?” Maddie asks. 

“I think I’m a very logical woman of science and all that,” Karen explains, “Really, you just have to take it day by day. We all know that.” 

They do all know that. They know it extremely well. Hen passed out in that lab with a punctured lung, Chimney being exposed to the virus, all while Eddie was 800 miles away and having no idea that any of this was happening. 

Maddie exhales. The air grows thicker in the room for a moment. “Doesn’t make it any easier.” 

Karen shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t.” 

Letting out a small sniff, Eddie tries to ease the tension. “Why did we think picking a book about death and grief was a smart idea?” 

It’s a valid question, he thinks. The wound is still too fresh for all of them, but they try laughing it off anyway. It’s all they can do now. 

“It’s Karen’s fault,” Maddie says and points an accusatory finger at Karen. 

Karen fakes a gasp. “I’m sorry.” 

Maddie chuckles and looks down at her mostly empty glass. She holds it out to Karen. “Think that means it’s your turn to pour a top-up!”

“Fine,” Karen sighs and jokily snatches Maddie’s glass off her. 

The wine was added to the equation of the book club a few weeks after baby Robert was born. Maddie had been very vocal about how badly she missed it and having the chance to just relax after the birth. Eddie and Karen were more than happy to indulge while Chimney took the kids to visit the Lees during every meeting. 

“Can I also add,” Eddie says, because apparently red wine makes him very opinionated, “I hate the magical thinking bullshit.”

“Of course you do,” Karen snorts as she grabs the bottle, “it’s literally the title of the book.” 

He glares at her. “Wishing someone back to life won’t make them come back. Death is irreversible.”

“Not disagreeing with you there, but if it’s how she copes,” Maddie shrugs, “we’ve all done it. Wished someone back.” 

“Doesn’t make it any better, though,” he adds. 

“I know, but it’s like,” Maddie pauses to think. She grabs her copy of the book and flicks through the many pink tabs she has marked in it because apparently she’s acing this book club shit better than any of them. She finds whatever page she was after and shoves it under Eddie’s nose. “Okay, in the book, she explains how there are things she feels like she needs to do, to make sense of it all and cope with it. One of those things needed was to be alone that first night after his death, do you remember?” He nods.

Maddie points at the page and says, “She wrote, 'I needed to be alone so he could come back.'” 

“Yeah, that was right before the magical thinking line.”

“And here on the next page.” Eddie reads the underlined quote that her finger hovers near, ‘I was thinking as small children think, as if my thoughts or wishes had the power to reverse the narrative, change the outcome.’

He understands the sentiment, in a way. Except reality always knocks him on the head every time his mind drifts into wishful thinking. Eddie’s not the type of person to allow himself to have that hope. He doesn’t pray. 

Maddie continues when he looks up at her, “It’s a ritual. The only way she can endure the situation. Doesn’t mean it’s good or bad or even effective in her grieving, but that’s just what grieving is like. It’s unpredictable. You know that. You’ve been in her situation.” 

That Eddie has, but he’s not alone in it. The other two understand it just as well. It’s how they found themselves spending the evening in Maddie’s kitchen in the first place. 

He exhales, “We all have.” 

“True, but it’s different for you,” Karen emphasises while topping off his glass as well. She gives him a soft look. “It wasn’t just Bobby. There was Shannon as well.”

Eddie takes a sharp breath. He sips his wine, gaze boring down. He can feel Maddie’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t want to look her way. 

“We don’t have to–” she begins to say. 

Eddie’s glass clinks as he lowers it back onto the table. “No, I mean. You’re right. I guess I’ve also been detached, in a way. Especially with Shannon. I coped… weirdly. I did a lot of stupid shit after she died,” he lets out an exasperated sigh, remembering how he almost fucked up his whole life—how he almost ended it from the fighting. It was Bobby who saved him back then after Shannon had died. He was the first person to open their arms for Eddie. He stopped Eddie from hurting himself even more. “And I’ve still been doing a lot of stupid shit because of it.” The wound from last year that drove his son away is still too fresh in his mind. 

“Like waves of grief,” Maddie flips to another page and tries showing it to him, but Eddie doesn’t need to look at it to know what it says. 

‘Grief is different. Grief has no distance. Grief comes in waves, paroxysms, sudden apprehensions that weaken the knees and blind the eyes and obliterate the dailiness of life.’

He underlined the passage himself in his own copy of the book. 

“Yeah, it’s– yeah,” he stutters and rubs a hand down his face. “But with Bobby, I’ve been trying to do better,” he says. 

A hand rests on his shoulder, a thumb stroking. It’s a familiar gesture, but the fingers aren’t calloused enough to be her brother’s. Maddie’s fingers are slimmer, more delicate. It eases the hurt all the same.

“I think you have been,” Maddie reassures him, “at least you’re not joining illegal fight clubs this time. Just very legal book clubs.”

Eddie snorts. The callout was unexpected. 

“You’re not what?” Karen’s eyes bulge out of her head as she sits back down. 

Eddie chuckles and finally meets Maddie’s gaze. “I hate that Buck tells you everything.”

She smiles tightly, but it doesn’t seem completely genuine. “Well, not everything,” she looks away and asks, “how’s he been lately?”

“He’s–” Eddie pauses. Honestly, he doesn’t know the answer to her question. He can’t explain it. He’s the one living with Buck, but it doesn’t feel like it. Living with Buck is like living with a ghost. He’s half a world away these days. “I don’t even know,” he answers truthfully. 

“Don’t you live together?” Karen asks. 

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Eddie sighs, “he’s been off since Bobby died, which, I get it. I really do, but I just don’t know how to help him.” 

The hand on his shoulder never once falters. “It’s Buck. All you need to do is be there,” Maddie does her best attempt at consoling him, “catch him when he falls.” 

“If he lets me,” he mumbles and takes another swing of his drink. Maddie watches him intently, like she’s trying to read him like one of their books. 

Eddie wants to believe her words. He wants to believe in Maddie more than anything, but he’s not one for hoping. Hoping has never turned out well for him. 

When Eddie returns home later that night, the lights are all already out in the house. He makes a quick stop by Chris’s room to see him sleeping, and then quietly makes his way to his and Buck’s bedroom. When he walks in, Buck’s back is turned away from the door once again. 

Eddie crawls into the bed next to him. He rests on his side and stares at the back of Buck’s head. The room is silent, but he knows Buck isn’t asleep. The lack of snoring gives it away. 

Eddie sucks in a breath, “Buck.” He doesn’t respond. “I know you’re awake.” 

Buck mumbles into his pillow, “I’m trying to sleep.”

“Trying to sleep and sleeping aren’t the same thing,” Eddie retorts, “c’mon, talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Buck bites back. 

“I think there is.”

Buck grunts and turns around to face Eddie. There’s a scowl upon his face, and his eyes appear more red than blue, like the other day.  

“Okay. What?” he demands, “what’s so urgent it can’t wait until morning?”

Despite Buck’s attitude, Eddie’s tone softens. “I’m worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be,” he grumbles. 

“Yeah, easier said than done,” Eddie scoffs, then quietens again. Maddie’s reassurance from earlier lingers in his mind. It gives him the confidence to finally confess, “I just wish that you’d talk to me.”

Talking about it makes it less scary. 

Buck’s eyes lock onto Eddie’s. His glare is unwavering, almost frightening, but not to Eddie. “We’re talking right now, aren’t we? This is what you wanted,” he spits. 

But they’re not. For the last six months, they’ve danced around the fact. Never once have they actually discussed Bobby’s death since the night in the kitchen that ended in tears. 

And not for a lack of trying. Eddie has tried. He’s tried so hard to pry something out of Buck. He knows they can’t keep living like this. He needs to do something to get part of that old Buck back again. 

“We’re not talking about it because you are still refusing to,” Eddie declares. 

Buck turns to stare at the ceiling and shrugs. “I have nothing to say about it.”

Eddie glares at the side of his face. He can still see the tear stains by his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Buck. I know you.”

“No, you don’t.” 

“Yeah? Okay,” Eddie replies with a snort, “you’re shutting me out.” 

Buck squeezes his eyes tight, then covers a hand over his face. “Sorry I’m sad that Bobb–”

Eddie cuts him off. He can barely believe Buck would swoop that low again. “Don’t pull that shit again. You’re not the only one hurting.” He sits up and looks down at Buck. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get it.”

Buck uncovers his face and stares back. “You don’t. It’s different,” he claims. 

“Is it? He was my captain, too,” Eddie insists. 

Eddie tries not to think about the things in life he could regret; otherwise, it would be a long laundry list. Enlisting and missing out on Christopher’s first years, blaming Shannon for leaving, traumatising his son enough that he couldn’t even stand being in the same state as him—but not being there for Bobby is at the top of his list. It’s kinda funny, regretting not being in a life-or-death situation, but it’s true. If Eddie were there that day in the lab, maybe Bobby wouldn’t have died. 

He blames himself, and he knows Buck blames him as well. 

Eddie whispers, “Just let me be there for you.”

Buck looks away. “I don’t need you.”

But maybe I need you. 

“Sure,” Eddie says stiltedly, he doesn’t really believe him, “you can lie to yourself, but not to me. I know you do.”

Buck sighs, “It won’t be your problem for much longer anyway.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. What the fuck? 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questions. 

Buck turns over so his back is facing Eddie again. Eddie feels his blood boil. “Eddie, please let’s just go to sleep. I have an appointment in the morning.” 

“An appointment? With Dr Copeland?”

“No. A house viewing,” Buck murmurs. 

“What?” Eddie almost shouts if it were not for Christopher sleeping down the hall. “Since when were you going to house viewings?”

Not once in the whole time they've been living together has Buck ever mentioned house viewings. The thought has never even crossed Eddie’s mind. There was always so much going on. Bobby’s death, returning to work, Maddie having the baby—not once had they ever considered Buck moving out.  

He had told Buck when he and Chris moved back in that there was no rush to find a new place. Buck had agreed, and that was the last of it. Now house viewings? It doesn’t add up. 

He’s pulling away. 

“I can’t keep living in your home forever,” Buck whispers. It’s the saddest he’s sounded all night. Eddie wants to scream at him. 

“I never said there was anything wrong with you living here. Buck, I honestly don’t mind it, neither does Chris. Don’t rush to find a place, I told you that ages ago. Just stay,” he says. 

“I can’t,” a small voice chokes out. 

Eddie’s hands grip the sheets tightly when he chokes on the words he’s been dying to say, “You’re pulling away.”

Buck bites back a groan. “Because I want my own house?”

“It’s not just that,” he whispers. 

Buck knows it’s true, so he begs, “Please. Just stop.”

But Eddie can’t. He stares down at Buck’s back and offers desperately, “I can come with you tomorrow.”

Buck shakes his head. “No. I need to do it alone.”

“No, you don’t.” 

“Yes. Please. I don’t need you nagging in my ear, telling me everything that’s wrong with the place or that I’m rushing into things. I need to make my own decisions.” 

Eddie lets out a deep breath. “Fine. But maybe you are rushing into things.” 

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Buck grumbles. 

“Just listen to me,” Eddie begs one last time. 

“I said, goodnight.” 

Buck sinks deeper into the covers. Eddie watches him. Last time they fought, Eddie slept on the couch. This time, he refuses to move. He lies back down and stares at the ceiling for what seems like hours. He doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t think Buck does either. He can’t hear him snoring.

Chapter Text

‘I’m not a religious person but I do sometimes think God made you for me.’

Normal People: Sally Rooney 

The first thing Eddie does the next morning, when the door slams shut behind Buck leaving for his house viewing, is call Maddie. It’s a bit strange, because outside the context of the book club nights, Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever really called Maddie on the phone. 

The second she picks up, he’s already panting into the speaker. “Did you know?” he asks frantically. 

Maddie stumbles on the other line. “Good morning to you, too, Eddie. Did I know what?”

Eddie paces up and down by the coffee table as he speaks. “That Buck’s thinking of moving out? He’s at a house viewing right now.”

Maddie sighs, “I knew he was considering it. We spoke a little about it, but I didn’t know he was actually doing it.” 

“I don’t know what to do, Maddie. He’s pulling away,” Eddie almost practically cries. He truly never expected his first proper phone call with Maddie to consist of him almost in tears mere seconds in. He really needs to pull it together. 

“Eddie–”

“We–” Eddie gasps and tries to remember how to breathe properly, “We got into a little argument about it last night, it’s my fault, and now he’s looking at houses. He’s leaving.” 

“Just because he moves out doesn’t mean he’ll be out of your life forever. You two were still inseparable when you were living in literal Texas,” she attempts to reassure him.

But Eddie’s mind is running a mile a minute. It hasn’t stopped running since Buck confessed to wanting to move out. “He said he needs to do it alone. Why would he think that?”

“Ah,” Maddie winces, “that might be my fault.”

Eddie stops his pacing. He freezes. “What?”

“Okay, so when you were in Texas, Buck didn’t really take that very well. You know that, right?”

“Uh, yeah. A little,” Eddie stutters, “Ravi mentioned when I came back that Buck spoke about me a lot.”

“Yeah, he did. At the start, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep at your house,” Maddie says.

That, Eddie didn’t know. It shocks him. Buck has never had trouble sleeping at his house. It was the only place he could sleep after the lightning strike. He’s spent countless nights on Eddie’s couch alone; you’d think it would be even better with his bed there instead. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was staying at mine, which I didn’t mind. It was good after, you know…” Maddie trails off, but Eddie knows what she means. 

“He never told me about this.”

“Yeah, figures,” Maddie snorts and then pauses, “what did he tell you about when you were living in Texas?”

Eddie racks his brain for an answer but comes up empty. He and Buck never really spoke about what happened while he was away. They were too preoccupied with other things to really dwell on the fact that Eddie being in Texas just fucking sucked for both of them, but there were worse things after that. 

“Um, nothing?” he says. 

Maddie lets out an exasperated sigh.

“What? Did something happen that I should know about?” he asks. 

“Depends on whether he wants to tell you.” Eddie groans in response. Maddie continues, “But at the time, I did tell him that he needed to learn the lesson on how to be alone again."

Eddie’s never been more confused. Maddie’s words make no sense to him. The lesson on how to be alone. Again? 

“Why?” he persists. 

“Well, at that point, it didn’t seem like you were coming home any time soon, and he wasn’t dealing with it well. Guess he took it to heart,” she says. 

Eddie flusters. “C–can you speak to him now? Tell him that he doesn’t actually need to leave?”

Maddie sighs again. Eddie can imagine the stern look on her face that she gives Jee when she asks for dessert before dinner. He kind of feels like a little kid, too, begging her to fix his problem. “Eddie, you may not agree with it, but it is Buck’s decision. If this is what he feels is right.”

Eddie wants to scream.

“But it’s not right, and he knows it,” he groans instead. 

“You have to be the one to talk to him,” Maddie exclaims. 

“He won’t listen to me. He refuses to talk to me about anything lately,” Eddie snaps. Immediately, he feels guilty for even slightly raising his voice at Maddie. He runs a hand down his face and apologises, “I’m sorry, I’m just–”

Maddie cuts him off, kinder than he thinks she should be, “It’s okay. I get it. You care about him. I do too.”

“I just–” he exhales, “I need him and he won’t–”

“You need to tell him that,” Maddie iterates. 

“He should know,” Eddie whispers as he falls back onto the couch. He squeezes his eyes tight. 

“It’s Buck. He always thinks he matters less to us than he realises. You gotta remind him,” she emphasises, and Eddie knows deep down that she’s right. “Talk about what happened to you both while you were gone. Ask and listen.”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good. Now stop stressing about this house viewing. Go read the new book, I’m already halfway.” 

Eddie lets out a stilted chuckle. “You work fast.”

“It’s good,” she claims. Eddie has no idea if she’s right or not. He has not once thought about their next read since he came home last night. “I think you’ll learn something from it.”

Eddie snorts. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Go read and find out,” Maddie teases.

So he does. As Buck is out of the house, looking for a different home, Eddie picks up the book—Normal People, a contemporary lit fic romance, except Eddie doesn’t see what’s so romantic about it. It’s meant to be a way to calm himself, sitting on the couch with only the background noise of Chris playing a video game in his room, but somehow it pisses him off even more. 

Firstly, why the fuck are there no quotation marks? It takes him at least six chapters to get used to it. Not to mention, these characters kinda suck. The guy is a dickhead, and Eddie hates how he can see exactly what Maddie means, because he’s also too similar to himself for Eddie’s own liking. He’d never admit that, though, especially not to Maddie and Karen. Now he’s kinda just rooting for the guy to get his act together so Eddie can feel less guilty for relating to him. 

He only makes it about a quarter into the book before Chris patters out of his bedroom to join him on the couch.

“Dad,” Chris says as he sits down. Eddie nods his head towards him while finishing off reading the last sentence. It’s actually getting interesting; Connell just asked another girl who is not Marianne to the debs. “Where’s Buck?” he asks. 

Eddie pauses. His eyes stay glued to the page as he scraps for an answer. “Uh, he’s out right now. Did you need something?”

“Where is he?” Chris questions again. 

“Um,” Eddie stalls as he places his bookmark in his page and lowers the book to his lap. He turns to look at Chris as he says, “He’s looking at houses.” 

Chris’s brow furrows behind his glasses. “Is he moving out?”

Eddie bites back the urge to cringe. “Yeah, eventually.”

Chris looks like he doesn’t believe him. “Why? Doesn’t he like living with us?” he asks. 

Eddie wishes he knew the answer to that question. He would’ve assumed yes, but the jury’s still out on that.

Instead, he forces a smile. “‘Course he does. He just needs his own place, too. Like before.” 

Chris fixes him with a deathly look. “Did you do something?”

“Me?” Eddie gasps, astonished, “n–no, I didn’t.” 

“Then why would he want to move out? I like him living with us,” Chris says as he crosses his arms and sinks deeper into the couch cushions like he’s seven years old again.

Eddie sighs and leans back with him. “Me too, bud, but it’s his decision.” 

Chris turns his head, “So, it’s not because you’re fighting?” he asks. 

“No,” Eddie says, which may be a lie. At this point, he doesn’t even know if it’s true or not. He doesn’t know where he and Buck stand. “Why do you ask?”

Chris looks away to stare at the ceiling instead of at him. “I don’t know. He’s quieter sometimes. He’s not… Buck,” he says, then winces, “also, I heard you two a little last night.”

Well, fuck. 

The last thing Eddie wanted was for Chris to hear their little argument the night before. He takes a deep breath before he answers, “I’m sorry that we woke you, but it’s okay. Buck and I are okay.” He shifts on the couch to level a gaze with his son, “Remember how I told you when I picked you up from the airport to surprise him, that Buck may not seem like himself?” Chris nods, “Well, he’s still feeling a bit down about everything.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he says, and Eddie knows it's true. Chris does get it. He’s lost a parent, too. 

Eddie rubs his arm for comfort. “So it’s our job to be there for him. Support him. Okay?”

Chris nods like a vow. “I know.”

“Good,” Eddie says and moves to pull him into a side hug. Chris goes willingly. He throws an arm around him, and it takes everything in Eddie not to burst into tears immediately. Chris has been back home for months now; they’ve been living together for even longer than that, but the time they spent apart still pains Eddie. 

“I don’t want him to move out,” Chris whispers into Eddie’s neck. Eddie squeezes him even tighter, placing a soft kiss on the top of his head. 

Me too, he thinks. 

Buck returns home in the late afternoon. The permanent scowl that lived upon his face that morning when they woke up has vanished. A blank stare replaces it. Eddie doesn’t know if that’s any better. 

But he’s determined not to be a dick about this.

“So,” he probes when Buck enters the kitchen where Eddie is, trying to figure out the plan for dinner, “how’d it go?”

Buck sends him a piercing look from across the kitchen island. “What?” Eddie splutters and throws his hands up defensively. He attempts a smile to ease the mood, aiming for a joking tone rather than the bitterness he’d been sporting last night, “I’m trying to be supportive.”

“It was fine,” Buck says with little emotion behind it. 

Eddie nudges on, “Just fine?”

Buck sighs as he dumps his phone and keys on the counter. “I don’t know. They all feel so cookie-cutter and new.”

“The loft was kinda like that,” Eddie offers, trying to be encouraging as he rummages through the cabinets with his back turned. 

“Yeah, but looking back, I don’t know how much I actually liked the loft. I want something with a bit more character,” Buck confesses and sinks into one of the chairs. 

“Mmh,” Eddie hums. He knows a perfectly good house with some character. 

Buck continues, “Whatever. I probably shouldn’t be picky. The sooner, the better.”

“Well, like I said, no rush,” Eddie attempts a tone of nonchalance. He’s not certain it’s working. He banks on a new approach, one he knows Buck can’t deny—the Chris card. “Even Chris was saying just before how much he likes you here.”

Buck snorts. “I’m sure he was,” he says in disbelief. 

Eddie turns around with a bag of pasta in his hands. He rests it by the stove for later. 

“He did. He probably still just likes your cooking more than mine,” Eddie tries to joke. It falls flat. 

Buck shrugs while looking off in the distance. “I guess.” 

Their conversation dies. The air in the room is tight again, a reminder of the things left unsaid. Eddie is desperate to keep Buck talking. He knows he could apologise for the way he acted the night before—he knows he should, but something’s holding him back. Something he can’t confess. An admission that Buck moving out really bothers him. 

Instead, he crosses over to Buck’s side of the island and stands awkwardly next to him. “Well,” he says and rests a palm on Buck’s shoulder to will him to look up at Eddie, “if you do need help choosing, my offer still stands. I promise not to be an ass.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Buck mutters. His gaze refuses to look in Eddie’s direction. 

“And you’re always welcome here, you know that,” Eddie rambles, “and–, and fully expect me to be cashing in at your new place on all the nights you’ve spent here. You can move out, but you won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Buck’s nose scrunches. He looks over at Eddie, wary. “Right,” he drags the word out.

Eddie continues his nonsensical talk, saying anything that comes to mind. “You don’t have to be alone, is what I’m saying. I’m here still. Not going anywhere, either. Even if I were going somewhere, I’m still,” he awkwardly and vaguely gestures to the space between them, “here.”

Buck fixes him a stare with squinting eyes. Eddie gives a hesitant smile. He tries to appear innocent. Clearly, it’s not working as Buck’s gaze widens. 

“What has Maddie been telling you?”

Ah, fuck. 

Eddie backtracks. His hand falls from Buck’s shoulder as he takes a few steps back. “M–Maddie? Uh, nothing, why? Should she be telling me something?”

Buck watches him back away. He stands on his own feet to tower over Eddie. “You’re lying,” he claims.

“No, I’m not,” Eddie lies, very badly. He grows suddenly very hot with Buck inching closer. 

“Yes, you are. When you lie, you bite the inside of your cheek,” Buck points an accusatory finger at him, “you’re literally doing it right now.”

Eddie immediately stops biting his cheek. “No.”

“Oh, my God,” Buck exclaims and throws his arms up. He turns around and tugs at his curls. The air around Eddie is easier to breathe now without Buck watching him so closely. 

“It’s nothing!” Eddie defends himself. 

“Eddie–”

“Okay, so she mentioned some things that happened when I was in Texas.”

Buck’s head whips back around. His face is mortified. “Like what?” he asks. 

Eddie does a horrible job at reassuring him. “Nothing specific! Just that, you know, you don’t have to be alone,” he recalls Maddie’s words with hesitation. 

Buck grabs his phone off the counter and stalks to the other side of the room. “Okay. I’m calling Maddie,” he declares. 

“No, don’t–” Eddie scrambles to shout, but he’s cut off by Buck opening and closing the back door behind him, already dialling Maddie’s number.

Well, so much for talking about it. 

Eddie stands there in the middle of the kitchen and watches the spot where Buck once stood. He tries not to think about whatever it is that Buck is asking Maddie about regarding him. Instead, he grabs his book from beside the toaster and settles into the chair that Buck sat in. They’ll talk about it when Buck comes back in. 

Except Buck only returns over an hour later, when Eddie and Chris are already plating up the pasta Eddie made, so they don’t talk about it. They sit through an awkward dinner, and they don’t talk about it; Chris must sense the mood and does the talking for them. He hurries back to his bedroom to avoid their tension as soon as the dishes are done. 

For the rest of the night, Buck avoids talking about it. Eddie makes attempts, his final one right as they lie down for the night, and yet they still don’t. Buck dances around it, claims he’s too tired from his day of house hunting and that they have a shift in the morning. So they go to bed and they don’t talk about it. They stare at the ceiling, a lack of sleep taking place, and lie there in silence. 

They don’t talk about it until they’re in standstill traffic on the way to work the next day. Buck is in the driver’s seat like usual; he stares out the front window, unyielding. Eddie is frigid in the passenger side. He’s itching to ask, knowing Buck can’t escape it now. 

On the third red light in a row, he does. 

“So, what happened when I was in Texas?”

Buck’s anxious tapping on the steering wheel suddenly stops. He clutches it instead, tight. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters. 

Groaning, Eddie pleads, “C’mon.”

“Seriously. It’s nothing. Maddie’s making it seem like a bigger deal than it is,” Buck attempts to drop the subject. He takes a sip of his iced coffee sitting in the cup holder. 

But Eddie’s not giving up this time around. “Enlighten me then.”

With a huff, Buck says, “I don’t know what you want to hear from me, Eddie.” 

“The truth, maybe?” Eddie asks cautiously. He doesn’t want to piss off Buck any further, but it seems unavoidable at this point. If he wants the answers to help him, he’s going to have to push a few of Buck’s buttons to get there. 

Buck turns his head abruptly to glare at Eddie. “The truth? What do you think I’ve been lying about?”

“Not lying, just…” Eddie thinks and sips his own drink, “withholding information.” 

Buck’s eyes pull back to the road, despite them still not moving. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles. 

Eddie pushes on. “Why couldn’t you sleep in my house? Why did Maddie say you needed to learn the lesson on being alone?” 

Buck simply ignores him. 

“We’ve got all day here, bud,” Eddie says and gestures to the unmoving traffic they’re stuck in. 

Buck heaves a deep sigh. His eyes remain glued to the road. Eventually, he breaks. “That house has never been my house. It’s always been yours. Even when you weren’t living there, it was yours. I just couldn’t…” he trails off. He rubs a palm on his pant leg. 

Eddie watches him in confusion. It doesn’t make sense to him. Eddie’s house has always been Buck’s house. He’s never been a guest there; it’s never felt that way to Eddie or Chris, even before they all lived together. 

“Because I wasn’t there?” he asks, part hopeful but unsure what for. 

Buck’s eyes squeeze tight for a brief moment—Eddie catches it as his breath hitches. “Because of a lot of things.”

“What changed?”

Buck refuses to answer again. The car moves less than an inch forward. 

“You can’t ignore me for the next,” Eddie quickly checks the time on his phone, “fifteen minutes. Just say whatever it is. Judgement-free zone.” 

He takes another sip of his iced coffee as he watches Buck’s face screw up. 

“I hooked up with Tommy when you were away,” he blurts out. 

Eddie chokes on his coffee.

Fucking what? 

“You did what?” he coughs out with coffee running down his shirt. It’s cold, soaking his clothes, but Eddie barely registers it. 

“You said judgment-free!” Buck exclaims. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting that,” Eddie shouts back. 

Buck and Tommy? The thought sickens him, which isn’t fair to Buck. It’s not him that sickens him, it’s the Tommy of it all. Tommy, who dumped Buck on the side of the road on their first date. Tommy, who bought Buck Lakers tickets for their sixth-month anniversary. Tommy, who broke Buck’s heart and for what reason? A fucking bullshit reason, Eddie thinks.  

Tommy, who Buck slept with again while Eddie was gone. 

Eddie thinks he’s going to throw up. 

Buck whines, “It was a one-time thing. I was drunk. I was lonely. We fought the morning after, and he left; it’s never happening again.”

Eddie simply cannot believe a single word Buck is saying. It goes through one ear and out the other. He’s in complete shock, staring at Buck with wide eyes. 

He was drunk? When did Buck get drunk? How did Eddie not know about it? He and Buck video-called daily when he was away. How didn’t this come up? 

He was lonely? Eddie’s heart sinks. He can’t help but feel guilty about that. If he hadn’t left, Buck wouldn’t have been lonely.

They fought the morning after? About what?

Tommy left? Does that mean–

Eddie’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Wait, he left? You slept with him in my house?” he shrieks. 

“Don’t say it like that–”

He splutters, “How else am I meant to say it? It’s a fact.”

Buck slept with Tommy in his house. In Eddie’s fucking house. The house he shares with Buck and his son. The house that’s always been theirs, even if Buck doesn’t feel like that right now. 

Eddie considers jumping out of the car window. It would probably be less painful than whatever this feeling is that’s beginning to consume him. 

“Look, I felt awful after it happened. Can you not make it worse?” Buck pleads. 

“I’m just–” Eddie stares out the window. The coffee on his shirt is beginning to feel sticky. When he gazes back over at Buck, his stare softens. The bile in his throat is still present, but Eddie ignores it in favor of the tug on his heart at the reminder of Buck saying he felt alone. Buck’s eyes stay on the road, but Eddie can see his hands shaking a little as he grips the steering wheel. 

“You were lonely?” he asks faintly. 

“Yes, Eddie,” Buck sighs, “you left, and I was living in your house, so yeah, I was pretty fucking lonely.”

The words hit Eddie hard. He feels that sudden urge again to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Apologize for ever making Buck feel that way and for reminding him of it again, but the words get stuck in his throat. 

“I hate that,” he whispers instead. 

Buck snorts. “Wow, thanks for the opinion I did not ask for.” 

“No, I–,” Eddie takes a breath, he doesn’t want Buck to misunderstand, “yes, I hated that you slept with him when he was an asshole to you, but I mean–” he pauses, “I hate that you were lonely.” 

Buck doesn’t speak for a few moments. Eddie can see that the blue in his eyes turns misty. “Yeah, well…” Buck mumbles, but doesn’t say anything else. He simply looks out the window. Eddie knows what Buck sounds like when he’s trying not to cry. It’s a familiar sound lately. 

Afraid of making things worse, Eddie doesn’t speak. He doesn’t urge Buck to finish whatever he was about to say, either. The two of them sit in silence as Eddie quietly seethes for the rest of the drive, his brain playing a cruel replay of whatever Buck and Tommy did in his house. 

As they’re pulling up into the station parking lot, Eddie can’t help but let one last remark slip from his lips. “You know you deserve someone better than Tommy, right?” 

Buck puts the car in park and finally looks Eddie in the eyes for the first time that day. He seems beside himself, with a frown upon his face. “I don’t think you can make that judgment,” he spits before getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. 

Maybe Eddie had that one coming, but his mind cannot move past the idea of Buck thinking he deserves less than the absolute best. 

Eddie would give him that if he could. 

Their shift goes by in a blur. Buck avoids him as much as he possibly can. It’s easier to do so now that they’re not partners anymore. With Chimney as Captain, Eddie’s been partnered with Hen as the second paramedic, while Buck is with Ravi. It’s fine, the new reshuffling of roles. It’s just taken some getting used to, but it’s fine. 

It’s moments like today where Eddie wishes he were still partnered with Buck, just so he could have an excuse for Buck to actually talk to him. 

But that’s not reality, so instead Eddie sulks in the corner and reads his book while Buck keeps to the other side of the station. It’s not surprising that the team has noticed the tension between them, but thankfully, nobody has commented on it. Eddie can tell Hen wants to; he can feel her staring at him as he reads, but she never does. 

At least Eddie finishes his book—the one good thing to come out of today. He kinda never wants to look at this book again. He curses Maddie for ever picking it and saying he could learn something from it. 

He sits there and stares at the last paragraph when he finishes. The words written really stick out to him. As always lately, he thinks about Buck. He reads it over and over again until the next alarm rings. 

‘What they have now they can never have back again. But for her the pain of loneliness will be nothing to the pain that she used to feel, of being unworthy. He brought her goodness like a gift and now it belongs to her. Meanwhile his life opens out before him in all directions at once. They’ve done a lot of good for each other. Really, she thinks, really. People can really change one another. 

You should go, she says. I’ll always be here. You know that.’

Does Buck know that?  

“I hate this book,” Eddie grumbles as he stalks into the house when Maddie opens the door for him. He beelines to the kitchen. 

She laughs, following him, “Yeah, I thought you would.”

“So why’d you pick it?” 

“She’s trying to torture you,” Karen chimes in from the kitchen table with a chuckle. 

“Well, it’s working.” 

“Okay, sit down. Let me get you a glass, and we’ll get into it,” Maddie calls out and grabs a glass from the cabinet. She begins pouring some wine for him as Eddie falls into the seat next to Karen. 

“I’m just–” he exhales and graciously accepts the drink from Maddie, “why can’t they just talk to each other?” 

Karen snorts into her own glass.

Maddie turns around to face them as she places the half-empty bottle of Merlot at the end of the table. Her eyes meet Karen’s—a way to communicate without words. 

Eddie watches them. He doesn’t like the glint in their eyes. “Okay, what?”

“It’s just… a little ironic,” Maddie cryptically explains and takes a sip of her own drink. 

Eddie scoffs when he eventually realises what she means. Their recent phone call comes back to mind. 

Of course, she’s talking about Buck.

“I need more wine in me to even begin discussing that,” he points vaguely and takes a large gulp of his drink. 

Maddie chuckles. “That’s fair.” She grabs her copy of the book from beside the bottle of wine and sits in the chair across from him. “I, for one, actually liked the book. It felt painfully realistic.”

More like painfully familiar. 

Eddie bites his tongue and takes another sip. He really does need to be less sober to make it through this session, he thinks. 

“The miscommunication was a little annoying, though,” Karen says, “like, I get it at the start—they’re in high school, but it just never got better. It was just a pattern they couldn’t break.”

“That’s kinda the point,” Maddie replies. 

“And I get that,” Karen continues, “but often I felt like I couldn’t empathise with them as it went on. Every time, they’d just make the same mistakes over and over again. It was irritating. I kinda just wanted to grab them by the shoulders and shake some sense into them.”

Eddie nods like she’s cracked the code. “Exactly,” he gleams. 

Karen snickers. “Okay, you cannot be serious,” she laughs. 

Eddie doesn’t get what’s funny. “What?”

She looks at him with eyebrows raised, a sense of disbelief with a hint of annoyance on her face. Eddie turns back in front of him to see Maddie giving him an identical look.

Okay, it’s about him and Buck again. Figures. 

“Okay! I get it,” he raises his shoulders in resistance. Karen’s serious look breaks at that, she grins. “I’m trying, at least. Connell is not,” Eddie defends himself. 

Not that Connell wasn’t trying. He was, Eddie thinks, in his own strange way. Eddie knows how that feels pretty well. 

“You know, Connell reminded me of you,” Maddie says. 

Eddie’s face scrunches up. He chuckles lightly, “That feels insulting.”

“You hated him that badly?” she asks. 

The answer is no. As much as he wanted to, Eddie couldn’t actually bring himself to hate either main character in the book. Their situation, yes, but not them. It felt too familiar for him. He just wasn’t exactly a fan of the mirror it held up to his own actions and behaviors. 

“I didn’t hate him. He just pissed me off,” he says. 

“I wonder why,” Karen mutters between giggles. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know why.” She gazes over at him and looks as if to say, Well, go on. He tries, “It’s–” but he can’t find the words. 

Maddie takes pity on him and speaks instead, “I think Connell is a passive type of person, especially in the beginning when he was younger. He lets the people around him dictate his life; it’s why he struggles so much in accepting how he feels about Marianne.”

Maddie’s whole sentiment is also something that could be said about Eddie. He’s no stranger to the pressure from others; his parents come to mind immediately. They tried to dictate his life as a father, his joy, fourteen years ago and yesterday. They’ll never give up. Eddie has been on a journey of learning that he doesn’t need their acceptance. It’s impossible to attain; why bother any longer? 

“Yeah, he feels guilty about it. Shameful,” Eddie nods. He doesn’t know if he’s talking about Connell or himself. 

“He does get better,” Maddie claims and Eddie grants her a funny look. She double downs, “He does! He’s the only character in the book who actually goes to therapy. You can literally see him change after it. He’s not perfect—nobody is—but it helps him.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Eddie tried therapy before, years ago. It was mostly a bust the first time around. But it was a turning point in the novel. Could it be again for him? After everything that’s changed lately, could it? 

“But that’s just my interpretation,” Maddie adds, “when I say he reminds me of you, it’s not meant to be insulting.”

He sees where she’s coming from; he knows it’s not meant to be an insult. He saw the similarities himself. He smiles faintly, “I get that.” 

The room quiets for a moment, but it’s a peaceful type of quiet. There’s no pressure to fill the silence, one of the many things Eddie loves about book club. He contentedly sips his wine with that smile plastered on. 

Except Karen feels the need to break the peace. 

“Can we discuss the Buck and Eddie of it all now?” 

Eddie’s smile quickly drops at her words and is replaced by a grimace. He groans and almost slams his head against the table. “C’mon!”

Karen just gives him a shit eating grin. “Talk,” she orders.

He takes a deep breath, downs the rest of his glass, and almost shouts like the words are itching to escape him, “Did you know Buck and Tommy slept together?” 

Karen looks at him like he’s stupid. “Uh, yeah, I assumed so. They were together for like six months.”

“No, I mean–” Eddie scowls as the thought plays on repeat in his mind, Buck’s cursed words from the car ride days before ring in his head. “They slept together when I was in Texas.”

Karen lets out a shocked gasp—she does love the gossip. “What?”

“I know!” he yelps at Karen, finally someone who understands his confusion. 

From across him, Maddie avoids their gaze. She looks off into the distance as an attempt to hide. Eddie catches her in the corner of his eye and turns to her, “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

Her eyes meet his, and she sighs. “Yeah. He came to me afterwards. He felt awful.”

Eddie nods, his face a frown. “Buck said they fought the morning after.”

All Maddie does is hum in agreement. Eddie realises he doesn’t actually know why Buck and Tommy fought the morning after. It could be anything, really. Maddie probably knows, he asks her, “You know why, don’t you?”

She complains, “I wish I didn’t, to be honest. That boy needs to learn to stop telling me things about his private life.”

“You’re not gonna tell me either, are you?” he begs. Karen watches them like a tennis match. 

“Nope!” Maddie says with a cheeky grin. 

“Can you tell me?” Karen pitches in. 

Maddie gives a firm head shake. Karen moans. “Guys! He’s my brother. I can’t betray his trust like that. And frankly, I also don’t exactly want to be discussing his sex life.”

Karen chuckles. “That's fair. I have an idea anyway.” She gives Maddie a look that Eddie is beginning to see often exchanged between the two of them. He doesn’t like whatever it means. 

“You do? Tell me,” he pleads. 

“No.”

“Karen.” 

“Hey, why don’t you ask Buck? Hello, communication!” she tries to convince. 

Yeah, as if. 

Eddie wails, “He won’t tell me even if I try.”

“Yeah, probably,” Maddie replies with a snort. 

It sucks that it’s true. Eddie used to be able to read Buck like an open book. He could tell every thought that ran through his strange mind. He could predict every one of his moves before Buck even knew. They had a secret language, one that only they spoke.

It seems not anymore. Not since Eddie’s return to Los Angeles. Everything’s been off. Buck has been off. 

And now he’s sleeping with his shitty ex-boyfriend and hiding it from Eddie. 

The thought can’t escape Eddie’s mind. It lingers in the back of his brain ever since Buck said those words. 

Eddie explains this to Maddie and Karen. 

“But ever since he told me about it, I’ve just felt so,” a shiver runs down his spine, he feels ill at the reminder, “eurgh, thinking about it,” 

“I wonder why,” Karen mumbles. 

“But not in like a homophobic way,” Eddie defends, “I just hate Tommy.”

The idea crossed his mind, the fear that Eddie’s secretly been homophobic this whole time, and that’s why he felt so strange during Buck and Tommy’s whole relationship, but it simply doesn’t make sense. The sick feeling in his stomach is only connected to Buck and Tommy—he just can’t stand to see that asshole with the best person he knows. 

“Wasn’t he your friend first?” Karen asks. Eddie shudders from the memory. 

“Yeah, well, not a fan of how he broke my best friend’s heart,” he claims, but it’s more than that. Eddie and Tommy were never really friends again after he started dating Buck, something Eddie would never blame Buck for. The second those two broke up, Eddie blocked his number. He felt no shame in doing so; it was joyous. “But since Buck told me, I can’t stop thinking about it. He did it in our house!”

“Wasn’t your house at the time,” Maddie corrects him. 

“I know that, but still.” 

“Look, Eddie. We can’t really help you with this one. It’s all in the past, anyway. Maybe you just have to consider the why behind you feeling this way,” Maddie says. 

“The why? I know why!” he claims. Both Maddie and Karen’s heads turn at this. Their interest is piqued, and they look at him with excitement in their eyes. “It’s because Tommy’s a dick.” 

A collective groan is heard across the room. Eddie doesn’t know why.

“You can lead a horse to water…” Karen mutters and takes a large sip of her wine. 

“And there’s no other reason why?” Maddie pleads. 

“No?” he questions, “Why would I care about who Buck sleeps with?”

“I don’t know,” Maddie says flatly. 

The moment stills. Eddie sits unmoving and simply thinks. Does he care who Buck sleeps with? The thought never occurred to him before, but now, yeah, he kind of does care. He particularly cares about who Buck sleeps with in their house. 

Why does this bother Eddie all of a sudden? He never cared before. Not when he heard all the Firehose tales, and not with any of Buck’s past girlfriends. Sure, he didn’t like some of them. Abby needs no explanation; she left him. Ali left, too, when things got too hard. Eddie can’t blame her too much for that, but he finds part of him does anyway. Do not even get him started on Taylor. Natalia was fine, but that’s just it. Just fine. 

And Tommy? 

Eddie believes he might hurl if he has to think about Tommy any longer. 

Karen must see the switch of look on his face, one that indicates that maybe he does really care and changes the subject. “So, what are we reading next?”

“It’s Eddie’s choice,” Maddie replies and looks at him. 

“Uh,” he awakens from his thought spiral. He’ll consider what it all means later. Maybe. Or he’ll repress it like usual. “I have no idea,” he answers their question.

“Okay, come here,” Maddie says and stands from her chair. The other two scramble to follow her.

She leads them to a bookcase in the corner of the living room. She points at the bottom shelf. “I haven’t read any of these. Pick whatever you want.”

Eddie’s eyes scan the bookcase, trying to find a title that jumps out at him. Honestly, he doesn’t recognise any that well. There are a lot of old books. He points to one at random that seems decent enough. 

“Um, that one,” he says and grabs it, passing it over to Karen. 

She chuckles. “The Picture of Dorian Gray. Very fitting.” 

“Have you read it?” he asks. 

“No,” she claims, which makes no sense for her odd reaction, “it’s a good choice, though,” she comments and hands it over to Maddie. 

Maddie holds the book up in her hands. Her lips curl up. “That settles it,” she says with a mischievous smile, so alike her brother’s. 

Eddie’s a little scared of what he just agreed to. Only time will tell if he regrets it. 

Chapter Text

‘When you were away from me you were still present in my art.’

The Picture of Dorian Gray: Oscar Wilde

Eddie deeply regrets choosing The Picture of Dorian Gray for the book club. 

For one, it’s a classic, written almost 135 years ago, and it certainly reads that way. It takes Eddie a while to actually get into the book and into the world depicted—and the world fucking sucks. The society these characters are objected to sounds like his own personal hell. 

The second issue is the little double-take that Buck does with a look of complete shock when he sees Eddie reading this particular book curled up on the armchair in their living room, and the very awkward conversation that ensues afterwards. 

“Uh, is that your book club book?” Buck halts and asks as he comes in from the kitchen after finishing up the dishes from their dinner. He lingers in the archway, clearly looking like he was about to make a beeline to the bedroom, probably so he could avoid spending time with Eddie. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Eddie tries not to let it hurt him. 

But his mood doesn’t seem to be so sombre today. They’ve had decently pleasant conversations as of late with no bitterness between them despite their lingering argument from last week. The air is thicker between them, but that’s all. Eddie’s learning to bite his tongue, even though Buck’s confession about Tommy rings on repeat in his mind. 

“Yeah.” 

Buck leans by the couch and watches him. Eddie revels in being the centre of Buck’s attention once again. “Did–” he coughs, “did Karen pick it out?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I did.”

He raises an eyebrow and stammers, “You did?” like it’s something insane. 

“It was my turn,” Eddie shrugs. “Have you read it?”

Buck runs a hand through his curls. “Uh, no, but I’ve heard of it. Oscar Wilde was a… pretty fascinating guy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie sits up, eagerly. He puts the bookmark on the page he was on and abandons the book on the armrest. Buck is way more interesting than whatever’s happening in the book. 

“Yeah, I read an article about him once,” Buck says sheepishly. 

“What’d it say?” Eddie asks. He had no specific intention when he chose the book; he had just picked a random one off Maddie’s bookshelf. 

“Um, it was about his imprisonment, I think,” Buck stutters and absent-mindedly moves in closer into the living room where Eddie’s sitting. 

“Oh shit, really?” Eddie says and looks down at the book beside him. He considers the image of the author on the back cover and looks back up at Buck. “What’d he do?”

Buck pauses. His cheeks tint red—he’s flustered. “I, uh, I can’t really remember.” 

His reaction is strange, but Eddie tries not to think too much about it. 

“You’ll have to send it to me if you can find it,” he says instead. 

Buck nods, a little breathless. “Okay.” 

“You can borrow the book after me if you want. I’m almost done,” Eddie says with a little smile. A peace offering. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Buck’s cheeks grow redder. Eddie doesn’t know what about this conversation is making him blush so awkwardly, but it’s endearing to see. “Do you like it?” he asks.

“It’s alright. I don’t think I’ve read a book this old since high school, though, but it’s interesting. It’ll be good to discuss.”

Buck settles on the armrest of the couch. “When’s your next meeting?” 

“Uh, Saturday night. You’ll be good with Chris, right?” Eddie asks when he already knows the answer will be yes. 

“Always. I, uh, have another house viewing in the morning, but yeah, we’ll be good,” Buck says and looks away for a moment. 

The ease of conversation between them shifts at the mention of house viewings. Eddie’s still clearly not a fan; he doesn’t understand why Buck just can’t stay with them, but he’s trying to be supportive. 

So, he resists. 

“Oh, how’s that going?” he asks curiously. Since their conversation in bed, they haven’t dared to bring up the topic again. Buck goes to his viewings, and Eddie avoids asking where he’s been. It’s a common discussion at work, but Eddie can barely stand to be in the room when someone brings it up. The reminder that Buck wants to leave hurts too much. 

Buck shrugs, “Shitty housing market at the moment, but I’ll find something.”

“Don’t settle for something that you don’t like,” Eddie says.

He can see the tension pass over Buck’s face. He stands up straight and holds back from bursting. “Ravi’s helping me out anyway,” he says softly. 

“He is?” Eddie stutters. He did not know that. He coughs and tries to maintain his composure by joking, “You really want Ravi as your landlord?”

Buck sighs. “If I get that desperate.”

“You won’t. Just stay here,” Eddie argues. 

Buck bites his lip. He looks down, clearly trying not to fight back. “Eddie, I already told you–”

He’s cut off by Eddie standing up and crossing the room. His gait is soft, as if Buck’s a spooked animal he’s approaching. Eddie stands before him and presses a hand on Buck’s shoulder—an attempt at comfort. His gaze searches for Buck’s as he says tenderly, “I know, and I’m not trying to pick a fight. It’s just a reminder, okay?”

Buck looks up to meet his eyes. They’re misty, but the fight leaves his body when they make contact. “Okay,” he whispers. 

Eddie gives him a tight-lipped smile. He can feel the tension in Buck’s shoulders drop. It’s the closest they’ve been in weeks, and Eddie never wants it to end. 

“How about we grab some beers and put a movie on, hmm?” he suggests, grinning. 

Buck shakes his head. “Don’t let me stop your reading. I was just gonna–” he points behind his shoulder down the hallway, Eddie’s hand falling in the process. 

“Nah, it’s fine. I got plenty of time to finish it before the meeting,” he says as he bounces on the balls of his feet, “besides, I feel like we’ve barely seen each other lately.”

Because you’ve clearly been avoiding spending time with me, he thinks, and I don’t know why. 

Buck tilts his head. “We live together. We work together. We see each other every day.”

“And yet,” Eddie points out, because it is the truth. They barely hang out like they used to before Eddie went to Texas anymore. He begs, “Buck, c’mon, I’m sure there’s something ridiculous you wanna watch.”

Buck exhales deeply, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, and Eddie knows he’s won. “Well, there’s this new documentary on astronauts I wanted to see.” 

Eddie smiles widely. “Perfect! You put it on, I’ll grab the drinks. This’ll be great!” He doesn’t care what they do; he’ll watch whatever boring documentary Buck wants if it means Eddie can just sit by his side, basking in his presence. 

They sink into the couch, beers in hand, no argument brewing between them for once, and it feels like old times again.  

On their next shift, Eddie corners Ravi in the locker room. 

“Hey, Rav. You got a minute?”

Ravi drops the sponge he was using to wipe down the glass in the bucket and looks up at Eddie. “Sure. What’s up?”

Eddie takes a breath before speaking. “Buck mentioned you were helping him find a house.”

“Yeah,” Ravi says with an easy grin and stands up, “he finally caved and asked for my help. Must’ve got sick of sleeping on your couch.” 

Yeah, couch.

Eddie stumbles on his feet. “Uh, are you sure you should be helping him?”

“What do you mean?” Ravi says with a confused look, “I know his credit score sucks, but–”

“No, I–” Eddie stammers and tugs a hand through his hair. “I just don’t think Buck should be living alone right now, after… everything.”

“I guess, but I think that’s something you should talk to him about,” Ravi says. 

“I tried to.”

“And what do you want me to do?” Ravi asks, “If he doesn’t listen to you, he’s definitely not listening to me.” 

With an exasperated sigh, Eddie says, “I know that, I’m just worried about him.”

Ravi levels him a look. “Eddie, look. He tells me things, and I know shit between you guys has been rough lately, but I think you two really just need to talk things out. Figure out where your minds are at.” 

“What, um, what things does he tell you?” Eddie swallows. He’d really like to know what else Buck has been keeping from him. 

Ravi takes a breath, looking tired. “More than I’d ever ask for. He doesn’t shut up about you half the time, especially when he’s drunk. That’s why I pawned him off on Tommy that night.”

That’s why he did what? 

Eddie’s blood begins to boil. “What?” he asks. 

“He told you about that, right? Buck said you freaked out.”

“That was your fault?” Eddie wants to shout. The look on his face must be indisputable by the way Ravi raises his hands in defence. 

“Sorry, man,” he says, backing away until he reaches the door of the locker room, “at least it didn’t last. That’s all on you, though.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie splutters. 

“Buck told me about how the next morning Tommy basically implied you were the competition, and since you went to Texas, they’d be able to work it out. Buck got pissed at him, and Tommy left,” Ravi explains.

The world around Eddie blurs away. All he hears is white noise. 

He’s the reason Tommy left the morning after? 

And why the fuck would Tommy see him as the competition? That doesn’t make any sense. Eddie tries to flick through his memories to find any instances where Tommy could ever think that. He comes up with none.

Buck is his best friend. Why would his boyfriend be jealous of what they have? 

And why didn’t he tell Eddie about this? 

“He–” Eddie coughs, “he didn’t tell me that.”

“He didn’t? Oh shit. Don’t tell him I told you,” Ravi scrambles. 

“I–I won’t,” Eddie promises. “Why would Tommy think that?” he asks. 

“Seriously?” Ravi crooks an eyebrow at him. “Probably ‘cause it’s true.” 

“I–” Eddie pinches the space between his eyes. He’s completely stunned. He can’t even fathom the thought right now. “Okay. Whatever, just please think about what I said. Alright?”

“I think you should think about what I said,” Ravi argues back. 

“Yeah, I’ll try,” Eddie mutters and dips out of the locker room, even more confused than before. 

“Can I just say,” Karen begins as she admires the front cover of the book, “I can’t believe that, as a lesbian, I’ve gone my whole life without reading this book. It’s truly a miracle. I’ve read every queer book under the sun, and somehow this managed to escape me.”

Maddie chuckles. “You can thank Eddie for that.”

Karen raises her glass to clink it with his. “Thank you, Eddie!” she shouts gleefully. 

Eddie clinks his glass back with hers, but his brow furrows. “You’re welcome, I guess? But I’m confused.”

“About what?” Maddie asks. 

“How is the book queer?” he says.

From across the table, Karen bursts out in loud laughter. She stops only when she notices the confused tilt of Eddie’s head. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“I didn’t pick up on that.”

“Literally how?” she asks through a snort. 

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, maybe stop laughing at me and explain. The book is old. How is that even possible?” 

“Do you know the history behind Oscar Wilde?” Maddie asks. 

“No. Buck said some stuff about him being imprisoned when he saw me reading it, but that’s it,” Eddie answers. Maybe he probably should’ve put more effort into researching the book he chose. 

“Of course, Buck went down an Oscar Wilde rabbit hole,” Karen says, “when he realised he was bisexual, he researched so much on queer icons and figures. He kept asking me questions about Emily Dickinson, as if I knew her personally. It was sweet, though.”

Eddie chuckles. He remembered when that happened. It was some time after Maddie and Chimney’s wedding when he found him lounging on the couch at the station, googling different queer authors for some new books for him to read. He didn’t realise Oscar Wilde was a part of that.

“Sounds like Buck,” he says fondly. 

“Well, Oscar Wilde was arrested and prosecuted for being suspected of being queer. He was criminalized for it; they literally used this book against him in his trials,” Maddie explains. 

“That’s insane.”

“That’s 1800s for you,” Karen offers and sips her drink. 

Eddie looks at her, still confused. “How the hell did I not pick up on this?” 

“I mean, Dorian was obviously queer. Basil, too. Probably Lord Henry as well,” Karen says. 

“Really?” He would have never guessed. 

Did Buck know that? Is that why he had so many questions about Eddie reading the book?

“Yeah. The novel uses very coded language; it’s heavily implied that Dorian slept with men as well as women,” Karen elaborates, “but society was repressed back then, very heteronormative, obviously, nothing could be explicitly stated in the novel. But it’s very well known that that was the intention.” 

Eddie slowly nods his head. “Right.”

Karen continues, “And like, Basil’s worship of Dorian was gay as hell, like way beyond normal male friendships. It’s hidden by the whole Dorian as his influence and artist vision thing, but it’s clearly painted as an attraction.”

But that doesn’t make any sense, Eddie thinks. Nothing about their relationship seemed unusual to him. Nothing stood out as not platonic or more than friends. Actually, the appreciation Basil had for Dorian reminds Eddie of how he feels about Buck. Buck’s so great, Eddie shows off about him all the time; all of Christopher’s teachers can attest to that. But that’s normal. 

“It seemed like a normal male friendship to me,” he brushes off with a sip of his drink. 

Just like him and Buck. 

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say, judging by the look Maddie and Karen shared after. Their faces scrunch up into grimaces as Karen groans, “It’s your turn,” to Maddie.

Maddie scoffs, “I’m not touching this with a ten-foot pole.”

“What?” Eddie exclaims at the two. 

Maddie sighs and turns to face him. Her grimace softens into a gentle smile. “Why don’t you explain to us why you think that way?” she says in a way that reminds Eddie of his old English teacher. 

He stutters, trying to piece together the thoughts running through his mind, “Um, I mean, Basil’s whole thing was, I guess, an infatuation with Dorian, but I didn’t see it as like romantic or sexual. Just… an admiration for his beauty and him, and that’s normal. I do that all the time,” he confesses. He’s never admitted that before, but it’s the truth. Buck’s an attractive guy, and Eddie knows that very well. He’s reminded of it every day. 

Nobody speaks for a moment. The only sound heard is the soft hum coming from the dishwasher. Maddie watches him with a puzzled look. Eddie fears he’s said the wrong thing again. 

But it’s true. It’s not a crime to look at another guy every once in a while. It doesn’t mean anything. 

“You… notice men’s beauty all the time?” Maddie questions, and Eddie finally realises how it sounds. 

He stumbles, “Okay, when you put it like that–”

“Which men?” she asks. 

A specific face immediately pops into mind for Eddie, with his brown curls and bright blue eyes and the pink patch of skin by his eyebrow and blinding smile and–

He swallows it down and ignores it. 

“Just– anyone. It’s normal,” he blunders as his hands begin to shake a little. 

“It’s not abnormal,” Maddie stutters, trying to make the best of the situation, “But I wouldn’t say that’s what’s happening here. Basil is fixated on Dorian. He doesn’t even mention any women. He’s clearly queer coded.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I guess I can see that now.”

“And then in Dorian’s case, he never really loved Sibyl. He liked the idea of her, of the roles she played. And it was an act of rebellion from their different social classes. That can also be seen as queer coded.”

Eddie continues nodding, but he doesn’t really know if he gets it. He’s reminded of his past girlfriends—the thought is inescapable. With Ana, Eddie tried to love her. On paper, she was perfect. Chris loved her, and she was someone his parents would’ve liked, but he couldn’t. Something in him stopped him from loving her. Then, with Marisol, there was no reason Eddie couldn’t have loved her, but she barely crossed his mind when they were together, and then it was over. That was his fault. All of his relationships ended because something was wrong with him. 

It all felt like a performance, and isn’t that something? 

Karen gives her two cents, “Not to mention, Basil and Lord Henry were pretty much competing for Dorian’s attention. They both wanted his portrait, which was tied to him—his soul. In a way, it can be interpreted as them wanting him,” she says, “definitely not regular guys being dudes things.” 

Competition. There’s that word again. 

He can’t help but think about what Ravi had said. How Tommy viewed Eddie as the competition. How it left Buck pissed off enough at Tommy to make him leave. 

Was there really a competition between them? And had Eddie technically won?

Why does that make his stomach jump?

“Maybe,” he whispers, breathlessly. He feels like no air is entering his lungs. His brain has turned to mush. 

“But it’s just one way of interpreting it. It does kinda make the most sense, though, like there’s no real heterosexual explanation behind it,” Karen says, “but society was repressed. The characters were repressed. It’s sad.”

Eddie thinks he’s going to have a panic attack. 

“Like this one quote,” Maddie says and shows him. He blinks at it. 

‘The aim of life is self-development. To realise one’s nature perfectly—that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one’s self.’ 

“Lord Henry is talking about pursuing what they’re afraid of.” 

“Drinking the juice,” Eddie mumbles under his shallow breath. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Maddie says, confused. She looks over at him, his paling face and wide eyes—he’s completely freaked. “Are you okay?” she asks. 

Eddie jumps awake at her words. His heart is pounding in his chest. 

Why can’t he stop thinking about how Buck looked, sitting on his couch after Tommy dumped him? About how Buck came running to him when his boyfriend left him?

“Me? I’m fine. I’m so fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Maddie watches him warily. 

He breaks. “I think I’m having a crisis.”

“What kind of crisis?” Karen asks, concerned. 

He looks up at her with wide eyes and chokes in a high voice, “I think you know.”

Her face drops. “Oh, my God, Maddie, we broke him.” 

Maddie immediately jumps into action. She stands beside him and rubs a hand down Eddie’s back. He can’t feel it. He can only think of how Buck felt when he hugged him goodbye in the middle of the rain. 

“We didn’t break him. Oscar Wilde broke him.” 

“I think I’ve been living a lie my own life,” Eddie mutters. 

“Holy shit, it’s actually happening,” Karen says and jumps to her own feet as well.

“Shut up,” Maddie whispers to her, then softer to Eddie, “What makes you say that?”

He grips the edge of the table as he rocks back and forth. His round eyes stare up at her. “It’s not normal to appreciate another man’s beauty. It’s not normal that I don’t think I’ve ever loved any of my past girlfriends. It’s not normal that I’m very attached and, frankly, obsessed with your brother!” he shouts. 

“Yeah, whatever you and Buck have is definitely not normal,” Karen adds. 

“See!” Eddie exclaims and rips his shaking hands into the root of his hair, “Am I a fucking idiot?”

Maddie’s gentle hand never stops. “Hey, no. You’re just a…” 

“Late bloomer!” Karen offers.

Eddie pauses. “I think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Oh, God,” Maddie yelps and races to one of the bottom cabinets. She grabs a large pot and shoves it into Eddie’s lap. He immediately sticks his head in it as unwanted tears threaten to escape his eyes. 

“I’m calling Buck to pick you up,” Karen says and grabs her phone. 

“Not Buck,” he wails, the sound echoing from the pot.

“You live with the guy!” she shouts. 

“And that’s not normal either!” he cries. Eddie lifts his head for a moment and looks up at Maddie to say, “We share a bed.”

She gives him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I know,” she says, “he tells me things.”

“Fuck my life,” he moans. 

For the next twenty minutes, Eddie dry heaves into the pot as he tries to bite back the tears. It’s all a little embarrassing. Maddie continues to rub his arm while Karen blathers on about how this is actually a good thing. 

That is, until Buck unlocks Maddie’s front door and races into the kitchen with a look of deep concern on his face. Eddie prays for the floor to swallow him whole. 

“What’s going on?” Buck calls as he rushes over to Eddie’s side. He takes Maddie’s spot and bends down next to him, his hand gripping Eddie’s tightly on the edge of the pot. “Are you okay?” he asks, blue eyes filled with worry. 

But Eddie can’t answer him. Seeing Buck here makes everything feel a thousand times worse. He’s drowning in his eyes and noticing for the first time just how much they sparkle under the kitchen lights. 

“Uh, we think it might just be too much wine not mixing well with whatever he ate earlier,” Maddie answers for him. 

“Okay. Let’s get you home, okay?” Buck says. Eddie just nods at him dumbly as Buck moves the pot out of his lap and pulls him to his feet. He stumbles, but Buck catches him and leads him out of the house. 

The drive home is dead silent. For once, it’s Eddie who cannot bear to look at Buck. He sticks his head out of the open window to try to cool his burning face. He can feel Buck’s eyes lingering on him at every stoplight. 

When they get home, all the lights are out. Chris is already in bed. Eddie wants nothing more than to wash the night away, maybe even crash on the couch if it means not being in an enclosed space with Buck, but instead, he immediately sinks into their bed. Tentatively, Buck lies down next to him. They don’t speak. 

It’s not until the next morning, over coffee, when Buck asks cautiously, “Are you alright?”

Eddie stares at him—his oversized hoodie and curls still crumpled from sleep, leaning back against their kitchen counter as he grips a mug with pink cows on it that he bought Eddie as a birthday present years ago and wonders how he never saw it before.

“I’m good, thanks,” he lies. 

And that’s it. It’s just another thing they don’t talk about. 

Eddie tries to forget about it, but he can’t. Usually, repression is his speciality, but it seems like since this… revelation has come to the surface, it can’t be ignored. 

He’s sitting on the ledge of the ambulance, just thinking. He can hear Buck, Chimney and Ravi upstairs in the kitchen, but Eddie simply cannot join them. He can hardly stand to be in the same room as Buck anymore. So he sits here, thoughts running wild. 

That’s where Hen finds him. 

“Hey, you okay?” she asks and hesitantly walks up to the ambulance.   

Eddie only hums. 

“Karen told me about book club.”

Eddie exhales harshly. “About last week?” 

“Yeah.”

She sits next to him on the ledge. Eddie welcomes the company. He tilts his head to look at her like a little kid. 

“Am I stupid?” he asks. 

“I wouldn’t say so,” Hen answers, “Eddie, there’s no shame in realising these things later in life. It doesn’t mean you’ve been living a lie,” she repeats the words from his confession to Maddie and Karen. 

Eddie doesn’t know if he can believe her. He’s spent the last week replaying every moment in his life. Every time a woman has flirted with him and he rejected them. Every blind date that his Tia set him up on that he dreaded going to. The relationships with women he was in because it felt like what he was meant to do. 

How it was Shannon that day on the lake when they were kids who pursued him, and how Eddie just went along with it.  

He thinks about all the male friends he’s had over the years. Luis, when he was 10 years old and how his father said he never liked that boy. Patrick, when he was 18, and they’d stopped talking after Shannon had told Eddie she was pregnant. Henry, in the army, who used to sneak into some of the other guys’ bunks. 

And Buck. It always comes back to Buck. 

“But I have, because I think I’ve known it this whole time, I was just repressing it,” he admits, “my whole life, I’ve just felt an insatiable amount of guilt. Shame. And it’s almost like my parents could sniff it out, so I hid. That’s the only reason why I dated Shannon in the first place: to get them off my back.”

These are things Eddie would never usually confess out loud, but it’s always easier to with Hen. She gets it. 

Hen watches him with a gentle look in her eyes. He exhales and continues, “And then she got pregnant, so I ran away. I’ve always run from my problems. And the worst part is that I don’t think I ever loved her as I was supposed to. As I should’ve, as my wife. She deserved better than me.”

“Eddie–”

He can’t stop talking. “And then there’s Buck, who just fits so perfectly. He’s my best friend, but he’s so much more than that. He’s always been there. He’s helped me with so much, countless times. He’s basically another parent to Christopher. I–” A tear threatens to escape his eyes. Eddie sniffs and wipes it away. “I love him. How could I not see it?” 

Hen grabs the hand that shakes in his lap. “Love makes us stupid. It makes us blind. You didn’t know to look for love there.”

“He wants to move out. He can’t stand being around me anymore,” Eddie whispers. 

Hen’s head shakes. Her voice is soft. “You and I both know that’s not true. That boy adores you. He’s just in a funny place lately, we all are.”

“I’m trying to be there for him, to be supportive, but it feels like nothing I do is helping,” Eddie says through a struggling breath. 

Hen pulls him into a side hug, throwing an arm over his shoulders. Eddie, for once, lets himself fall into the comfort. 

She rubs his arm and says, “You’re doing enough. Only time can heal these things.”  

Chapter Text

‘I wish, in the idle way I always wish these days, that I felt more confident in my ability to breathe.’

Our Wives Under The Sea: Julia Armfield

Like most things in his life, Eddie pushes down these new feelings about Buck that leave his stomach in knots. He ignores it. Represses it. It’s easier that way. 

Well, it would be if not for Maddie and Karen and their newfound ability to read him like a book. 

Book Club 📚💜

Maddie: How are you feeling today Eddie?

Eddie: Totally and completely normal

Karen: Yep he’s definitely losing it

Eddie: Nope! Everything is fine

Maddie: Yeah he’s lost it 

Just reminding you that we’re always here for you and we love you no matter what! 💜

Karen: ^^ What Maddie said! We love you 

And I picked the next book 

*link attachment*

Also just wanted to say if you can’t make it to the barbecue at mine and Hen’s that’s alright 

Eddie: We’ll be there

Chris is already begging to stay the night

Karen: The answer is always yes 💖

Eddie: Thank you

Maddie: 🌈

Eddie: Might be a bit early for all Maddie

I still don’t even know what I feel

Maddie: I’m manifesting for you 

Karen: LOL

Eddie: Appreciate it

He knows their support comes from a place of love, but it’s all so overwhelming for Eddie lately. He doesn’t know if he deserves it. 

But it gives him the push he really needed to finally call a certain number deep in his phone’s contacts and book an appointment that he’s been avoiding for years. 

So, Eddie has therapy with Frank in a week—words he’d never thought he’d say again. Nobody knows about it, and Eddie intends to keep it that way. Until then, he has to find a way not to go totally insane over this new realization. 

It’s not so easy when the cause of said realization lives with you. Maybe Buck had the right idea about avoiding being alone at home together. It’s really helping Eddie at the moment, even if he still misses him. 

Like right now. They’re at the Wilsons’ place for a little family barbecue. It’s bittersweet. Barbecues used to be a Bobby thing, but with him gone and Athena selling their dreamhouse, it’s now been delegated to Hen and Karen. 

There are conflicting feelings all around—the joy of spending time with the people you love mixed in with the feeling of knowing that someone is missing. 

Eddie doesn’t know where he sits today on that scale, so he’s taken to lingering on the sidelines, keeping a watchful eye on Chris and Denny getting roped into playing a game with Mara and Jee. It’s good to see Chris fitting back in here in Los Angeles; it reminds Eddie that at least he did one thing right. 

From here, he also has a clear view of where Buck is stationed by the grill, with Chimney backseat cooking, and Ravi rambling on beside him. It’s fitting to see Buck take Bobby’s role. Not a replacement, but a transfer of such. A passing of the torch that shouldn’t have been passed yet. It’s where Buck would’ve gravitated towards if Bobby were here. 

Maybe Eddie would’ve been standing there too with him. But alas, he watches instead. 

The food is spread across the table nearby, where Maddie sits with Athena and the baby, but Eddie doesn’t feel up to grabbing a bite anytime soon. The sick feeling in his stomach has been present since their last book club meeting. If anything, it’s getting worse. He can barely stomach the lukewarm beer in his hands. 

“Hey,” a warm presence stands beside him. Eddie tears his eyes away from Buck to see Karen smiling at him. He thinks he smiles back, but it may have been more of a grimace. 

“Hey. Thanks for having Chris over tonight.”

“It’s no problem, Eddie. That boy is an angel, it’s no trouble at all,” Karen says. 

Unconsciously, his cheeks heat up. Hearing that makes him feel like he's not a complete failure as a father. “I have no idea where he gets it from,” he jokes. 

His eyes, acting on their own accord, linger back over to Buck, who’s engaged in conversation with Athena and Maddie. He can’t help the way his breath hitches at the sight. 

“I think I may have an idea,” Karen says as her gaze follows Eddie’s. He hears the implication, but ignores it, shuffling on his feet. He looks away; he doesn’t know how to answer. Karen picks up on this and changes the subject, “So, did you start the new book?”

He did actually start it the night before. Maybe got a quarter of the way through. He was contemplating at eleven o’clock last night, cursing Karen out over text for choosing such a sad book again. 

He had to slam the book shut after reading a particular paragraph that did not sit well with him. 

‘She behaves like a houseguest, I tell her, like a person who’s blown into my home and sat down like she belongs. She says she doesn’t know what to say to me. 

Say anything, I want to scream, say I knew what I signed up for when you went away, say you told me the deal, that you gave me all the information. Say it was my choice, to be OK with it, that it’s not your fault you went away for so long. Say it was my choice to move into the spare room. Say it’s my choice to come into the bathroom every morning when I know what it is that I’ll find.’ 

He knew Karen probably chose it on purpose. It seems she and Maddie like using their books to teach Eddie a lesson of sorts, like he’s in an episode of some shitty after-school special that he would’ve watched at twelve years old with his sisters. It’s no surprise that the book Karen chose, although it is some horror-science fiction novel, also holds up a mirror to Eddie’s life. 

A couple, where one goes through something deeply traumatic and sinks away, while the other is left on the sidelines to watch, unable to do anything about it. 

In the book, Leah had an affinity for telling useless facts. Miri was Catholic. It couldn’t be more on the nose if they tried. 

“Yeah, and can I just say, you were not subtle in what you chose,” Eddie replies. 

“How?” Karen fakes innocence. 

With an eye roll, Eddie whips out his phone from his back pocket and looks up Our Wives Under The Sea and reads to Karen what it says. “Google literally describes the book as about ‘a married lesbian couple who become distant after one of them returns from a disastrous deep-sea dive.’ You couldn’t be more subtle with your hints.”

She bites back a grin. “Hey, I just like reading about lesbians. No ulterior motives here about queer couples drifting apart or anything.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, not believing her. He certainly does not think about the way the word queer feels to him—almost as if it could be right. 

“Are you liking it?”

“It’s depressing,” Eddie answers. 

“That’s life,” she says point-blank. 

Eddie tilts an eyebrow. “Is it? I think one of them is turning into a fish.” He’s honest to God a little confused about that part of the book. 

She chuckles. “Well, it’s a metaphor.”

“Okay, save the discussion for book club.”

Karen’s laughter is loud and catches a few interested looks their way. Eddie can see the fond face Hen makes behind her wife’s back from here. 

When she quietens down, she whispers not that subtly either, “Speaking of, have you given any thought about what happened in our last meeting? And be honest.”

Eddie can feel his face burning under the almost-setting sun. “I don’t really wanna think about it,” he shuffles awkwardly and sips his drink. It tastes awful. 

She tuts. “Eddie, you can’t ignore it forever. If you actually thought about it, maybe it could help out with a lot of things going on in your life,” she says, and part of Eddie knows she’s right. He’s never been brave enough for himself ever to allow that. 

His mind wanders back to the conversation he had with Father Brian; it feels like a lifetime ago now. His theory about Eddie not believing that he’s worthy of joy, and his assignment for Eddie to do something that brings joy for him. He thought he fulfilled it by shedding that disguise and dancing freely like he used to at ten years old, but maybe he hadn’t. Maybe there’s still a part of Eddie that is restricting himself. 

But how does he stop that? How does he let go? 

Karen continues, her hand lying over his. He grips the beer bottle’s neck tight enough that it could smash—it loosens at her touch. “Hen told me about what you two spoke about. It’s okay to feel this way. It’s okay if you’re gay; the world isn’t going to end. You’re allowed this.”

In a small voice, he says, “I don’t know what I am.”

She smiles, but there’s a hint of sorrow in it, “And that’s okay too.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. His eyes travel back over to where his son is giggling with his friends, and then back to Buck. It hits him like a freight train. 

It’s all he’s ever wanted. 

“I think I’m… not straight, though,” he confesses through hesitation. 

Karen’s wide grin settles the anxiety Eddie’s been feeling in his stomach ever since the thought entered his mind. “Yeah?” she asks. 

He exhales, “Yeah.”

“That’s amazing, Eddie.” 

“I don’t know what to do about that, though,” he admits.

Karen reassures him, her thumb caressing his hand, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Trust me, I’ve been in your shoes.”

Eddie bites his lip. “But what if I want to do something? Or–, or I need to do something.”

“Is this about–”

“Yes,” Eddie blurts out before she can even speak his name. Everything is always about Buck. 

Karen huffs a breath. “Well, not to sound like a broken record, but talk to him.”

“I don’t want to ruin things any more than I already have.”

“You won’t,” she stresses. 

Fearful, Eddie asks, “How can you be so sure?”

Karen pulls one of his hands free from the grip it has on the bottle and holds it tightly between her own. She smiles with crinkling eyes. “Because I can see the way he looks at you. I hear how he talks about you. It’s how I feel about Hen. It’s how she feels about me.”

That sounds a lot like love. Could it be?

“Then why is he pulling away?” Eddie whispers with a shake of his head, trying to hold back tears. He refuses to cry in Karen’s backyard in front of their family. 

Her smile grows. “Because he loves you and he trusts you will follow him.” 

“I want to.”

“Then, do it.”

Take what you want. 

For once, Eddie thinks he just might.

They’re interrupted by Hen shouting Karen’s name from across the yard. Karen gives one last squeeze of his hand before leaving Eddie alone in the corner again. 

Eddie watches the way Hen kisses Karen on the cheek when she meets her by the back door to hand her a bowl of salad from inside. He watches as her eyes light up with a gleam, looking at her wife, and he thinks of Karen’s words. 

Like second nature, Eddie’s eyes gravitate towards Buck again, now sitting at the table, still deep in conversation with Chimney and Ravi. Taking a deep breath and a promise to himself to be brave, he makes his way over to them, catching the tail end of their conversation. 

“Wait, are you serious?” Chim asks in disbelief. 

Buck nods. “Yeah, signed it this morning.”

“I helped,” Ravi says, causing an eye roll from Buck. 

“Yes, thank you, Ravi.” 

Eddie butts into the conversation, sliding into the seat directly across from Buck. “Signed what?” he asks.

“Uh, what?” Buck stutters, looking at him in awe like a deer caught in headlights. It only makes the anxious tension in Eddie’s stomach worse. The bravery from moments ago quickly diminishes.

“What did you sign this morning?” Eddie asks, though he fears he already knows the answer to that question. 

“Eddie–” Maddie whispers from beside him in soft warning. He doesn’t listen. 

Buck’s eyes refuse to meet his, opting to look down instead. Everyone else’s attention is on the two of them now, but Eddie hardly notices. All he can see is Buck. He watches him intently as the words Eddie fears the most leave his lips. 

“I, uh–” he coughs, “I signed a new lease on a house.”

Eddie, simply, loses his mind. 

“W–What?” he stutters, hurt, “and you didn’t tell me?”

“I was going to–”

“You–,” Eddie cuts him off, talking a mile a minute in a spiral, “you didn’t even let me see the place. You didn’t even tell me you found something good, that you applied, or that they were considering you–”

Buck protests with a groan, “Because I knew you would freak out, like you’re doing right now.”

“I think I have a right to!” Eddie’s voice rises. He and Buck are completely oblivious to the eyes on them. 

“No, you don’t.”

“Are you kidding me?” Eddie shouts. His fists clench under the table with his nails digging into the palms of his hands deep enough to cause the skin to break. Still, it hurts less than Buck’s words. 

“Okay, let’s calm down,” Maddie pleads, but is ignored. 

Buck rolls his eyes with his entire body. “I don’t have to run every idea by you, Eddie.”

“Clearly! Because you never fucking do anymore.”

“Okay!” Chimney shouts at the two of them, using his newly found Captain’s voice. “Lovers’ quarrel, this is a conversation for your own home, not here. Go.”

Buck stills at the sound, shame for fighting in front of their friends overtaking his anger. He returns to that sullen look he’s been sporting lately. “Right, right. Sorry, guys,” he mumbles before getting up, a sense of guilt crossing his face. He stands and gives a tight-lipped smile directed towards Hen and Karen before walking back into the house. 

Everyone else gathered around the table quickly turns to face Eddie once Buck leaves. Eddie’s fists are still clenched, and he bites his bottom lip to avoid any tears from spilling. 

He looks apologetic as he stands up as well and pleads, “Hen, Karen, I’m–”

Karen stands beside him and gently strokes his arm. “It’s okay, just–, just go after him,” she says.

Eddie nods. He looks around frantically for a moment until his eyes catch Christopher, who’s moved over to the table during their argument unbeknownst to Eddie. Eddie’s heart sinks at the sight. He’s let his son down once again. 

“Chris, I’m sorry–” 

Chris shakes his head. The look in his eyes is indescribable, but it doesn’t seem like hurt, and unfortunately, Eddie knows very well what hurt looks like in his son’s eyes. He’s replayed the memory of him walking out of their house for Texas countless times in his nightmares. 

“Don’t let him go,” he begs. 

The tears Eddie’s fighting against dare to win. He rushes over to Chris, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead and whispering, “I love you,” before running out of the back garden and into the house, following after Buck. 

He finds him already in the driver’s seat of his Jeep. Before he can even reverse the car out of the driveway, Eddie quickly jumps into the passenger side. 

“Are you serious?” Buck groans while Eddie pants beside him in the car. 

“We’re talking about this.” 

“Eddie–”

“Just drive. We’ll talk at home,” Eddie demands. He won’t let his son down again. 

Buck, reluctantly, drives. 

The front door of their home slams shut behind Eddie as he follows Buck into the house. They were silent the whole drive home, but the moment Buck had parked the car, the anger building up inside him began to slip through the cracks. His foot steps are loud on their floorboards as he storms into the kitchen, Eddie hot on his tail.

“Okay, you wanted to talk, so talk,” Buck demands as he leans against the sink on the other side of the room. He leaves the kitchen island in between them as a barrier. The thought of a barrier between him and Buck right now sickens Eddie. 

“Why are you doing this?” he pleads, standing across from him. 

“I already told you–”

He cuts Buck off, “I know, but it just doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It doesn’t need to make sense to you,” Buck grumbles, fury already seeping through his words. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Why are you so hellbent on pushing me away? What happened to us being partners? Now, you need me, but you’re shutting me out. You’re keeping things from me–” 

“I was going to tell you,” Buck interrupts. Eddie fights the urge to laugh at what he knows is a blatant lie. At this point, he wouldn’t have even been surprised if he woke up one morning to all of Buck’s things missing from their house if it meant Buck could avoid talking to him about it. 

“But you didn’t, did you?” he repeats Buck’s own words spoken in this very room months ago back at him. 

They’ve been here before. 

Buck snorts. Eddie knows he’s thinking about it too. “Well, now you know how it feels.”

Eddie squints at him. “So what, is this supposed to be some sort of payback?” 

“You left first,” Buck simply says. He grips the edge of the counter behind him in his fists. 

“You know I had to. You told me to go,” Eddie fires back. 

Buck was the one who took the tablet out of his hands. He was at every single interview with the real estate agent. He subletted Eddie’s house for God’s sake. All of this was because of him. Eddie couldn’t have really left if Buck hadn’t told him to. 

“Yeah, because I knew it was what was best for you and Christopher. This is what’s best for me. So, can you just let me do this?” Buck insists. 

“No,” Eddie shakes his head stubbornly, “because it’s not what’s best.” 

Buck’s glare is piercing from across the room. “Why do you get to decide that?” he asks and stands up from leaning against the counter, inching a step closer. Eddie knows what he’s doing, trying to seem taller, like he has a leg to stand on. Eddie doesn’t budge. Buck doesn’t scare him. 

“Because I know you, Buck,” Eddie shouts back, moving closer to the island between them. He harshly grasps the back of one of the chairs, the force making it rattle. He lets out a frustrated groan. “God, don’t you get it?”

Buck’s jaw clicks as he grumbles, “What’s there to get?”

“Buck,” Eddie levels him a look, and all the fight leaves his body for a mere moment as he says the words that have been on constant repeat for him lately, “you’re drifting away.”

But Buck’s sick of hearing it. He scoffs and rolls his eyes like a teenager. “Yeah, so what? Why do you care?”

“So what? I don’t know,” Eddie mocks in disbelief. Exhaling, he pleads with sullen eyes, “What about us, Buck?” 

Buck aims his words to cut deep into the heart. His face is stone cold, but Eddie knows it's a bluff. Or, at least he hopes so. “There is no us, Eddie. You made sure of that when you left.”

Eddie throws his hands up, exasperated. “And we’re back on this, again.” 

“Hey, I got it when you had to leave the first time, okay? You needed to be with Chris. But if you were so sure that I would need you after Bobby died, why were you planning on leaving again?” 

The gravity of Buck’s words hangs in the air. It’s a valid question, one Eddie doesn’t know the answer to.

He stumbles, his grip loosens, and his hands fall to his sides, defeated. Buck’s eyes bleed into his, waiting for an answer. Eddie’s voice is quiet when he says, “I didn’t realise–”

But Buck’s not done. He has no time for Eddie’s excuses, it seems. His tone is sharp. His whole body rattles in anger as he lingers closer to the island between them. “And if you were going to leave again then, why does it matter if I leave now?” 

Eddie opens his mouth to retort back, but no sound comes out. He gulps, but he’s speechless. 

Buck’s making him sound like a hypocrite, but it’s not like that. Eddie never wanted to go back. He never even wanted to live in El Paso in the first place. But he had to. It wasn’t a choice for him; he thought Buck knew that. 

He tries again to speak something coherent, but Buck’s quick to cut him off before he even gets the chance. 

“Don’t worry about me, Eddie. I told you, I don’t need you.”

Before his brain can even catch up to what his mouth is saying, Eddie bursts loudly without a second thought, “Well, maybe I need you.” 

He didn’t mean to say it, but it’s the truth. Eddie has always needed Buck since the day they met. 

He needed Buck’s level head, driving him, during the earthquake when he was worried sick about Christopher. He needed Buck when finding care for Chris, when he introduced him to Carla. He needed Buck when Shannon died, and his son was struggling after the tsunami, even when he couldn’t talk to him. He needed Buck when he was shot, both in the moment and forever after. He needed Buck to save him from himself that night with the baseball bat. He needed Buck when he was in a coma. He needed Buck when he promptly fucked up his whole life again and sent his son running. 

Even when he was in Texas, Eddie still needed Buck. They called every day, sometimes even multiple times. Eddie ran everything by him, begging for help with trying to make things right with Chris. He couldn’t have done anything without Buck. 

He needs Buck now, more than ever. He’ll always need Buck. 

And he thinks Buck needs him, too. At least, he hopes. 

A blink of vulnerability flashes across Buck’s face. He stumbles for a single moment, eyes widening, but he’s quick to hide it. Eddie sees it, though. He always notices. Buck covers it up; the armor is back on. His face is blank as he spells out, “So again, why were you going to leave?”

And Eddie still doesn’t know the answer. He can’t speak. He tries to think of a single reason why, but there are none. 

Buck continues, the harshness from before tougher than ever, “And don’t say some bullshit like it’s because of Chris, because when Chimney told you to stay, Chris didn’t even blink twice about coming back home.” 

Eddie pauses to think. He’s not wrong. Chris did immediately agree to stay in Los Angeles when Eddie brought it up; he didn’t even fight it, so why was Eddie so certain about returning to El Paso in the first place?

There are the practical reasons, his cursed parents’ voices ringing in his head telling him so. He couldn’t just uproot his son’s life again. He had commitments in El Paso. The house he sunk basically all his money into. The job offer he was begging for. Responsibilities that just don’t go away because Eddie wanted to stay in Los Angeles. 

But that’s not a decent reason to go. Buck’s not going to accept any of this bullshit because it’s not true, and Eddie knows it’s not true. 

He was still trying to punish himself, but he couldn’t tell Buck that either. He can’t be a dick about any of it right now, not when Buck’s finally talking to him. Last time Eddie was a dick, he flew Chris in as an apology. He doesn’t have that weapon in his arsenal anymore. 

He stammers an explanation, “Okay, so maybe I should’ve talked to him sooner, I didn’t think–”

“That’s the problem, Eddie, you don’t think,” Buck barks, and Eddie halts. Buck steps away from the counter and around the island; never once does his hardened gaze falter from Eddie’s wide eyes. He moves closer until they’re face to face. He peers down at Eddie, venom on his tongue. “You’re always on my back about being reckless and rushing into things, but you’re just as bad.” 

“What exactly are you accusing me of here, Buck?” Eddie spits back, “‘cause if you’re saying I rushed into moving to Texas the first time, can I just remind you that it was you who sped things up by helping me find a place and subletting this one? Or, if you mean rushing into leaving the second time, then, can I also just point out the fact that I’m still here!” 

“I didn’t ask you to be!”

“You’re making no sense,” Eddie huffs. A rough hand tugs through the hairs on his head. “Are you mad because I left, or are you mad because I came back? Which one is it?” 

Buck snaps, “I’m mad about everything.”

Eddie bites back a grin.

He’s finally talking. 

“Okay, like what?” he asks, urging Buck to never stop, “help me understand here, Buck.”

Buck pauses for a moment, nostrils flaring. His fists clench by his sides, and he bites his lip hard. Fuck. He’s clamming up again. “I’m mad that I can’t have the things that I want,” he shouts, and Eddie doesn’t dare to say anything. He waits for Buck to finally speak his mind, and he does, “I’m mad that I was stupid enough to let myself think I could have them in the first place.”

Eddie tilts his head and inches a step closer. “Well, what do you want?”

Buck’s on a rampage, the words flowing out of him as his face burns and his eyes dance around the room. He shouts, “I want Bobby not to be dead! I want the team to be like it used to be. I want Chris to never have left. I want you to–”

He stops. His eyes meet Eddie’s with hesitation. 

But Eddie won’t let that be. “You want me to what, Buck?” he asks, “What do you want from me? Huh?”

“It’s–” Buck stutters and steps away, “nothing. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Eddie’s not giving up. Every step that Buck takes backward, Eddie takes one forward. “Come on. If you tell me what you want, I can just give it to you,” he promises. 

Buck squeezes his eyes shut tight and shakes his head. “No, you can’t!” he yelps. 

But Eddie wants to help him too badly to give up. “If it’s in my control then–” 

Then I will do anything. I will give you anything.

“It’s not in your control,” Buck spits. He tries schooling his face into something neutral, but his birthmark burns bright red, and Eddie can see his hand shaking as he runs it through his hair. “Just forget I said anything.”

Anger seeps back into Eddie’s bloodstream. He was so close. 

“No, I’m not just going to forget!” he shouts, “Why can you talk to everyone else, but you can’t talk to me? You talk to Ravi, you talk to Maddie—”

Buck’s scoffing cuts him off. Eddie bears him a glare. “That’s rich coming from you. You speak to my sister more than you speak to me these days,” Buck says. 

Is he serious? 

Eddie groans, “And whose fault is that, Buck? That is the whole point I’m trying to make here. I want you to talk to me, but you won’t. I want you to live here, but you won’t. You’re pushing me away. You won’t let me in.”

Buck’s famous eye roll returns. “And that’s why you’ve been tiptoeing around my back, talking to Maddie instead? Just to ask her about me?” 

Eddie stares at him in total disbelief. His eyebrows are miles high on his forehead. He’s not sure why Buck is so suddenly hyperfixated on the Maddie of it all. He’s never shown any interest in the book club before, mainly because he’s hardly shown any interest in anything relating to Eddie lately.

Eddie lets out a bitter chuckle. “Believe it or not, Buck, your sister and I can talk about other things besides you,” he says, which may be half true. Yes, Buck’s name does come up a lot in book club, more than Eddie would’ve ever liked, but it’s not the only thing they talk about. Besides, he can’t admit that right now, it’ll go straight to Buck’s head. “And who’s tiptoeing? It’s not like it’s a secret. You came over last time.”

Buck matches his chuckle. “Yeah, and why was I there?” he inquires, arms crossed over his chest, “for a guy who is suddenly all about talking, you were real quiet that night. So tell me, since there are no secrets. Why was I there?”

Fuck. 

Eddie can’t really admit to Buck that he was called to their last meeting because he had a panic attack about the potential of being gay, and he definitely can’t tell him about the possibility that he might feel more than platonic feelings for him. 

He keeps his face purposefully blank. He says, “I don’t know, Buck. I’m not the one who called you,” which isn’t technically a lie. Karen called him, and Eddie begged her not to. 

He knows Buck doesn’t believe him, though. He snorts and says, “Right, sure. Good talk,” before turning around, trying to make his way out of the kitchen.

But Eddie’s quick to grab his shoulder and turn him back around until Buck’s facing him again, a look of pure annoyance on his face, “Hang on, you don’t just get to walk away.”

Buck snaps back and shoves Eddie’s hand off his shoulder, “And you don’t just get to decide what we do and don’t talk about.”

“Well, maybe there are some things I’m not ready to talk about, okay?” Eddie shouts back. 

“So you can talk to Maddie and Karen about these things you’re not ready to talk about with me, but I can’t talk to Maddie and Ravi about things I’m not ready to talk about with you? Yeah, that seems fair.”

Eddie pulls at the skin down his face in irritation. “I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.” 

“But I’m right. You can have your secrets and your book club, but God forbid I confide in anyone but you. Maybe there’s a reason why. Have you ever thought about that?” Buck responds. 

“Well, why then?” Eddie cries, “We promised from day one to have each other’s backs. That’s what I’m trying to do here, will you just let me?” he practically begs. 

Buck groans. “There’s no point. You can’t fix this, Eddie.” 

“Yeah, no, because I just break things,” Eddie chokes, “I broke us by moving to Texas. I broke my relationship with my son by not knowing what I really wanted. I break everything,” he shakes his head a little, willing tears not to fall before taking a deep breath to keep it all in, “but I’m here now, and I know what I want, and I just want to help you.” 

Eddie’s never been good at asking for what he wants. He was never taught how to. But when it comes to Buck, once the gates had opened, the flood follows. 

Buck looks through him like a ghost, his eyes watering. “I never asked for your help, so you just need to let me go,” he begs. 

“I can’t do that,” Eddie confesses. 

“I had to, now it’s your turn.” 

“But I had to leave, you don’t,” Eddie steps closer. He never wants Buck’s gaze to falter, “Nobody is making you do this but yourself, Buck. I’m telling you not to.” 

Buck stares back, heavily with stone-cold eyes. He says bluntly, “Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to go either, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?” 

Eddie’s heart sinks. 

He pleads, “I couldn’t give you what you wanted then, but I can give you what you want now, if you just tell me what it is. Whatever you need from me, I’ll give it to you,” and it’s the truth. He’d do anything for Buck, whatever it is that’ll make things okay again. He loves him. 

“I can’t!” Buck shouts with flaring arm. He tries to turn back around again to walk out of the kitchen, but Eddie quickly rounds him and blocks the archway. 

“Why not?” he demands. 

Buck’s voice breaks. “It’ll change everything,” he whispers with a bite of his bottom lip. He looks exhausted and completely broken, yet somehow, he’s still beautiful to Eddie. 

Eddie takes a step closer until he’s right in front of Buck, staring up at him. He’s close enough that he can hear, clear as day, as Buck swallows deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Eddie cannot take his eyes off him when he whispers back, “Everything’s already changed.”

Buck blinks away tears. He bites his lip harder, drawing Eddie’s attention to the plump pinkness. It’s captivating. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me–” Buck begins to say, but suddenly stops with a near gasp. His breath hitches as he catches Eddie’s direct gaze intently on his lips. He’s silent, staring back. 

Eddie, for once, finally allowing himself to want freely, doesn’t look away. 

“I’m just asking for you,” he admits. 

He needs Buck. 

It’s a truth he’d never granted himself to accept. He needs Buck more than anything. He needs him more than a best friend. He wants him—every part of him. 

He indulges, eyes locked on the object of his desires, and finally asks for it. Eddie hesitates for a brief moment, and Buck pauses alongside him. He’s speechless, looking like he wants to speak, but can’t.

Eddie, openly, vulnerably, brokenly, says, “I need you,” he pleads, in the smallest of voices, raw. His face pinches, eyebrows pleating with a gasp from his lips. 

Buck takes a deep, shaky breath. Eddie watches it escape his parted lips and back in again when he sharply inhales. Buck wants to give in to whatever this is. Eddie thinks he just might.

He moves in a step closer, trusting Buck to catch his fall. Buck follows, eyes lingering widely, studying every inch of Eddie’s face. 

But then Buck stops. He breaths again and takes a single step back—stepping out of the moment and Eddie’s atmosphere. “No, you don’t,” he huffs before crossing around Eddie, leaving him alone in the kitchen, and storms out of the house. 

Eddie hears the front door slam shut, but he’s frozen in place, gaze locked on where Buck once stood in utter confusion.

He almost kissed Buck, and he’s pretty certain Buck almost kissed him back. 

But he still left. 

He stands there in his empty home. It’s reminiscent of the nights when Christopher was in Texas and the rare times that Buck didn’t follow him home after a shift. Eddie hated those nights. He hates how quiet the house gets. 

And the worst part is that Eddie wants more than anything to just fall into bed with Buck. To hold him, be held by him.

But he can’t, so he goes to bed alone. 

A week passes, and in that time, Buck moves out. They don’t speak to each other, not even at work. Buck opts to stay over at Maddie’s in what should’ve been his last nights in their house. Eddie cannot even bear to let himself look at Maddie’s texts telling him that Buck is okay. It all just pains him too much. 

Eddie comes home from his first therapy session with Frank, dead tired and drained of life, to find a U-Haul parked in the driveway and Ravi moving the last box into it. 

All the progress he made in the last hour and a half with Frank feels as if it’s running down the drain. Everything hurts all over again. 

“Hey,” Eddie greets him. He’s trying to act normal, not as if his whole world is shattering, but it doesn’t come off like that. 

Ravi gives him a sad look, brows frowning as he places the last box in the truck. “Hey.”

“Is he in there?” Eddie asks, pointing at the house. 

Is he even allowed to say goodbye? 

Ravi shakes his head. “No. He’s already at the new place. I’m just grabbing the last load.” 

Eddie doesn’t know if that’s better or worse. 

“Right,” Eddie tuts, looking down. He feels like an ass. 

Ravi sighs and pats him on the arm. “Look, man, I’m sorry about all this. It sucks, but you two will work it out. You always do,” he tries to be reassuring. 

“Yeah, maybe. Thanks,” Eddie stutters. He doesn’t believe him. Ravi wasn’t there in the kitchen. He doesn’t know how badly Eddie’s fucked everything up.

He doesn’t know he almost kissed Buck.

“And, uh, Buck wanted me to give you this,” Ravi says and digs into his pocket. He sticks it out in his open hand for Eddie to take. 

It’s Buck’s key. The key Eddie gave him seven years ago. 

Eddie stares at it. The sight breaks him. He shakes his head and says, “No. Tell him to keep it,” before leaving Ravi in the driveway and making his way into the house.  

It takes everything in him not to fall to his knees in the entryway. He would, if not for Christopher lingering in the hallway, watching him with sad eyes. 

“Hey, bud,” Eddie calls out to him, trying to keep his voice levelled. 

“Hey,” Chris replies, “Buck just left.” 

 Eddie rubs the back of his neck and asks, “Yeah, I know. Did he talk to you?” 

“Yeah. He said goodbye, and that I can always reach out to him when I need. He said he’ll still be here,” Chris says. He seems sure of the fact. 

Eddie also knows it’s true. No matter what happens between him and Buck, Chris will still always have him. Buck wouldn’t ever leave him. That thought eases a little of the pain. 

“That's good, and it’s true. He loves you, okay?”

“I know,” Chris answers. His lips twitch upwards for a brief moment before he steps closer, looking concerned. “Are you okay?” he asks. 

Eddie doesn’t know how to answer him. He really doesn’t want to have a breakdown in front of his son; he can’t cry, but Frank’s words from their session earlier today return to him. He reminded Eddie that it’s okay to be vulnerable and honest, especially with himself and the people he loves the most. 

When Eddie had agreed to try that, he didn’t realise he’d be walking into his house to find Buck and his things missing. 

Guess Buck was right, he does know how it feels now. 

He breathes. In and out, willing himself to answer calmly. He doesn’t want to concern Chris any more than he already has. “I–” he tries to exhale, but fails. “I don’t know how to fix this,” Eddie whispers and sinks down to the floor anyway, his back leaning against the front door. He squeezes his eyes tight, face scrunching up. “I’m sorry.”

He can hear Chris’s crutches hitting the floorboards as he inches closer. “Why are you sorry?” he asks. 

Eddie opens his eyes to find Chris staring down at him. “You said you loved living with him. Buck wouldn’t have left if not for me,” he answers.

Chris slowly lowers himself to the ground to sit next to Eddie, crutches lying flat in front of them. Eddie feels guilty, having his son comfort him after he fucked up again, but he tries to swallow it down. 

“He’ll come back,” Chris says, assured. 

“You think?”

Chris nods. “Yeah. It’s Buck,” he responds, putting all his trust in the name, “And he promised me.” 

“I hope you’re right.” 

Eddie wants to believe him more than anything. He loves that Chris has faith in Buck. He knows they’re solid, he just fears his own relationship with Buck is harmed beyond repair. 

When he told Frank about their fight, he wasn’t so sure about Eddie’s quick dismissal of mending things. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t want to mend things—he’d do anything to make Buck forgive him, he’s just not so sure Buck should forgive him. Buck deserves better, and Eddie doesn’t deserve forgiveness. 

But Frank told him it’s not healthy to think that way, so Eddie tries not to. He’s failing miserably. 

“I’m sorry that we fought at Hen and Karen’s. You shouldn’t have seen that,” he says while turning to look at Chris beside him. All Chris does is nod while he frowns. It reminds Eddie of when he was younger, every time he got quiet when Shannon was mentioned. It pains Eddie that he can’t protect his son from this hurt.  “I swear I’ll fix this, Chris. I’ve–” he breathes shallowly, “I’m going to therapy again, I’m going to do better.”

And it’s not just this, it’s everything Eddie has been avoiding for years. Properly processing his grief over Shannon, his PTSD that still lingers, the situation with Kim that drove his son away, Bobby’s death and life afterwards—Eddie’s wanting to learn how to deal with it all healthily, and he will. This is the first step. 

Chris looks at him and gives a faint smile. “I believe you.” 

Eddie tries to smile back. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve such an amazing kid. A kid who’s been through so much, who Eddie has caused so much hurt to, and yet here he is, sitting on the floor with him and smiling.

Chris deserves the best, and Eddie will do anything to give it to him. 

Which is why he knows he has to be honest with him. “And, there’s something else I should tell you,” he says. 

He discussed it with Frank today, the possibility of him being gay. It’s seeming less like a possibility and more like a stone-hard fact with every passing moment. It’s beginning to sound less horrifying with every passing moment. 

Chris tilts his head. “Please don’t make us go back to Texas,” he says, deadly serious.

Eddie can’t help but let out a sad chuckle. “We’re not, never again, don’t worry,” he says. Chris’s soft smile returns, and Eddie takes a sharp breath, looking into his son’s eyes. “Chris, I’m–” he chokes, “I don’t know how to say it.”

Chris grabs the hand resting on Eddie’s bouncing knee. “It’s okay, Dad,” he whispers. 

“I’m gay,” Eddie says, exhaling.

Chris smiles with a genuine smile. Eddie’s heart soars as Chris pulls him in for a hug. Eddie sinks into his son’s embrace and tries not to cry. 

“It is bad timing for me to say I know?” Chris says. 

Eddie chuckles wetly into his shirt. “You can say it. You’re not the only one who has.” He knows it was on the tip of Karen’s tongue more than once. 

“Did you tell Buck?” Chris asks. 

Eddie shakes his head, rubbing it on Chris’s shoulder. “Only you, Maddie and Karen know.”

“You should tell Buck.” 

“Are you–” Eddie begins, letting go only so he can look at Chris’s face, “Are you okay with this?” he asks, part afraid. 

But all Chris does is grin. “Yeah, but please tell Buck soon. I can’t be a child of divorced parents,” he jokes.

Eddie bursts out laughing—a real laugh. Chris joins in. 

“Do you think he’ll hear me out?” Eddie asks once he’s quietened again. 

Chris shrugs. “Maybe. If you tell him you love him.”

Eddie blinks. Of course, he didn’t need to tell Chris he loves Buck; Chris already knows. 

“I do love him. Is that okay?” Eddie pleads. 

Chris nods. “Yeah.”

“I’ll work on it, alright?” Eddie promises, and he means it. It may take some time, but he refuses to let Buck go that easily. 

Chris stands to his feet, using Eddie’s shoulder to help. He peers down at his dad with a cheeky smile, “You better.” 

Chris then goes off into his bedroom while Eddie stays lingering on the ground for a little while longer. He should probably get up. He was meant to go to Maddie’s for book club tonight, but he really doesn’t feel up to it. Besides, he wouldn’t blame Maddie if she didn’t want to see him anymore. He hasn’t spoken to her since the fight with Buck. 

He pulls out his phone, which has been digging into his ass this whole time, to text their chat. 

Book Club 📚💜

Eddie: Hey I think I have to cancel on our meeting tonight

I just can’t do it

Karen: Eddie noooooo

Eddie: I’m sorry

Maddie: Hey none of that! 

We sulk together, it’s tradition now 

Eddie: I just really can’t do it today

Karen: That’s alright we can reschedule 

Take care of yourself Eddie we love you! 

He hearts Karen’s message and finally gets up to move to the couch. He sinks on it, throwing his phone next to him and closing his eyes tightly. He doesn’t want to exist to the rest of the world tonight.

His sulking is interrupted half an hour later by a knock on the door. Eddie wants to ignore it, but the knocking is persistent. With a groan, he gets off the couch and opens it, only to be met with Maddie and Karen, holding a bottle of red and three pizza boxes. 

“Hi?” he says, very confused. 

“We sulk together now!” Maddie repeats her message and pushes past him into the house. Karen follows, setting the pizza boxes on the coffee table while Maddie walks straight into the kitchen. 

“Guys, you don’t have to–”

“Nope! We’re doing this,” Karen cuts him off. 

Maddie returns to the living room with four plates and three wine glasses. She passes a plate to Karen, who fills it up with a few slices of pizza. 

“Here, give this to Chris and grab your book,” Karen orders and hands him the plate. 

Eddie shakes his head, but smiles softly. “Okay,” he whispers before doing what she says. 

He quickly pokes his head into Chris’s room, who is sitting at his desk playing a video game. Chris takes his headphones off his head and looks at Eddie, equally as confused as Eddie was before. 

“What’s happening?”

“Um, Maddie and Karen are here. Apparently book club is here tonight, even though I tried to cancel. I promise we won’t be too loud, okay? Don’t stay up too late,” Eddie says as he rests the plate next to Chris’s keyboard. 

“Okay. Don’t drink too much,” Chris jokes and grabs the pizza. 

“Ha, ha,” Eddie laughs drily before closing the door again. 

In the living room, he finds a glass already filled for him, his book resting on the arm of the couch, and soft music playing from the television. Maddie and Karen sit on the couch and look up at him.

“C’mon, let’s gab,” Karen grins and pats the spot next to her. 

“About the book or my sad life?” Eddie says warily and sits down next to her, grabbing a slice. 

“They’re interconnected,” she replies. 

He rolls his eyes. “Can we start with the book at least?”

“Sure. What did you think of it?” Maddie asks from his other side. Eddie tries not to be downhearted about the fact that Buck’s sister is here instead of him. Not that he doesn’t enjoy Maddie’s company, but he knows that part of her must hate him right now for hurting her little brother. 

“I liked it,” he says simply and takes a bite. 

Karen laughs, “Wow, I’m shocked.” 

“You say that like I hated the other books,” Eddie replies. 

She sips her wine and points out, “You had a bone to pick with all of them.” 

Eddie jokingly glares at her. “Is that not the point of book club? To discuss?”

“Okay, so what made this book different?” Karen asks. 

Eddie thinks for a moment about the book. He honestly hadn’t been thinking that strongly about it lately, too much of everything else going on, but it was still in the back of his mind. “Well, I mean, I still have issues with it. Like, there was basically no plot, but the characters were interesting at least.” 

“Mmm, yeah,” Karen agrees, then asks, “How’d you feel about Miri?”

Eddie glares at her. “Is there a reason you’re asking me about her specifically?”

He knows she’s doing it on purpose. Miri was the half of the couple that stayed behind, who had to witness her wife drifting away and slowly dying, and there was nothing she could do to help. She was the half of the couple that was more stubborn, more closed off, less accepting of herself. The similarities between her and Eddie are not slim; he knows that. 

“Nope!” Karen grins innocently, popping the p. 

“Right, sure,” Eddie snorts, not really believing it. He sips his wine. 

Karen rolls her eyes and diverges onto Maddie, “Fine. Maddie, how did you feel about Miri?” 

Maddie pauses, mid-bite of her pizza. Her eyes catch Eddie’s for a moment and then Karen’s. Eddie shifts in his seat awkwardly. He can’t help but think about how strange this situation is, her being here with him despite everything going on with Buck. 

She says, “Um, well, I think she was pretty passive in all that was happening. She was in denial about it all. She didn’t do a whole lot to help Leah.” 

Eddie’s brows furrow. He feels a strange need to defend this character, even though Maddie is kind of right. “She didn’t know how to,” he says, “Leah was lost, and Miri couldn’t cope with it, so she clung on until–”

He stops. He’s aware of how he sounds. 

“She had to let go,” Karen continues for him. 

The room stills for a moment, until Eddie mutters, “She didn’t want to let go.”

Maddie gives him a stilted smile and says, “I know that. And, what happened to Leah wasn’t her fault either.” 

Eddie looks away, and he looks down at his lap, whispering, “She could’ve been there.”

“In the expedition to the bottom of the ocean, when she was a… grant writer?” Maddie asks. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and looks back up at her. “You know what I mean.”

“So…” Karen chimes in, “Are we still talking about the book or your sad life?”

“The book,” Eddie groans at her and then urges them to get back on track, “The ending. I didn’t like the ending. It sucked. It left a lot unsaid.”

“It definitely was ambiguous,” Maddie agrees. 

Eddie sips his drink and asks confusedly, “So did Leah just turn into water or something?” That part really did seem off to him compared to the rest of the novel, which he did actually enjoy. 

“I guess,” Maddie shrugs, “It’s a metaphor.”

That’s what Karen said last week. Eddie remembers a particular line in the final chapter about it that made him sit and think for a while after. 

‘I think that the thing about losing someone isn’t the loss but the absence of afterwards. The endlessness of that…

Let go of them in the water.’

What if he doesn’t want to let go? 

Maddie continues, “Like, the book is meant to be a horror, but the horror didn’t come from the creature Leah saw or her transformation. The horror was about morality and grief and having to watch your loved ones suffer from something awful and realising there’s nothing you can do to help them.” 

But what if there’s something? 

“Does that even count as horror?” Karen asks. 

“I guess it depends on what scares you,” Maddie replies. 

Eddie breaks his silence. “That scares me,” he admits. They both turn to look at him, matching looks of concern. “She didn’t have to let Leah go.”

He knows in the context of the book, yeah, Miri did have to let Leah go; she was dying. But that’s not real life. That’s not Eddie’s life. It doesn’t have to be. He doesn’t have to let go. He can’t let go. 

There’s a certain isolation that comes from that, from being iced out by the person you treasure the most and wanting to help them, but not knowing how. That happened in the book. That’s happening to Eddie.  

Maddie’s eyes fall, head tilting. “But she did. Leah was already gone,” she says softly, “But, that doesn’t mean you have to let go.”

He looks at her, at the way she looks back with sullen eyes, full of pity. Eddie sighs. “Does that mean we’re discussing my sad life now?”

“Only if you want to,” Karen says, kindly. 

They sit in silence for a moment while Eddie contemplates letting them in, saying what he really wants to say. Frank had encouraged it earlier; maybe it’ll do him some good to actually listen to his therapist. 

Eddie breaks the silence by asking Maddie the question that’s been itching at him for a week straight, “How is he?” 

She grimaces, and he knows it’s not a good sign. “He’s… been better.”

Immediately, the guilt sinks in. “It’s my fault,” Eddie whispers to nobody in particular.

Maddie scoffs lightheartedly. “It’s both of your faults, actually,” she says. 

Eddie looks up at her, eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t get why she’s here, why she’s willing to put up with him, or whatever he did to gain her support. “Shouldn’t you hate me? Your brother does,” he asks. 

“He doesn’t hate you, Eddie,” she says, then softer, “I don’t think he ever could.” 

Part of Eddie knows it’s true. It’s how he knows he could not ever hate Buck, either, no matter what. He couldn’t hate him after he sued the department, and they weren’t allowed to speak. He didn’t hate him every time he acted like he was expendable. He didn’t hate him that night in the kitchen, all those months ago and just last week. He could never hate Buck. He loves him. 

And yet, Eddie cannot believe in a world where he’s deserving of that love back. “He should,” he murmurs. 

“I think that might be actually impossible for Buck,” Karen says. 

Eddie shakes his head. “I’m not so sure. He was really pissed that night.”

“And he’s been sulking on my couch ever since because he hates fighting with you. He hates being away from you,” Maddie complains, collapsing back onto the couch with a groan. 

Eddie turns to back around at her, confused, “I just don’t get it. Why would he move out then?” 

Maddie closes her eyes for a minute and sighs. She looks like she knows the answer, but she can’t tell him. She’s hiding something, which, fair enough. Buck’s her brother. He just wished he knew how to fix this.

He’d do anything. 

“Trying to figure out what goes on in Buck’s head is not for the weak,” she says. 

“I used to always know what he was thinking,” Eddie laments and lies back next to her against the cushions, “I wanna fix this, but I don’t know how, and it’s killing me.”

Karen takes a sip of her wine and joins them. She rests her head on Eddie’s shoulder, and the comfort is nice. He allows himself to sink it in—these wonderful friends of his. 

Maddie turns to him. “I think, for now, it’s best to just give Buck some time. He’ll come around. He won’t be able to survive avoiding you forever,” she says, but Eddie’s not so sure he can think as certainly as she does, “And, in the meantime, he’s not alone. I care about him just as much as you do. I won’t leave him alone.”

That gives him some relief. The last thing Eddie wants is for Buck to be all alone in a new house, without him, or anyone for that matter, there. At least he has Maddie. Someone to look out for him, to have his back, just like how Eddie always has. 

He nods and breathlessly whispers, “Thank you.”

Maddie stares back at him. Her gaze softens, and she grabs his hand, squeezing it tight. “And, Eddie, I’m also here for you,” she emphasises. 

He shakes his head, eyes beginning to well up. “You shouldn’t be. You should be on his side.” 

Maddie snorts. “There are no sides. I’m not a child in between your divorce,” and that makes him chuckle as well, “I’m here for both of you. Karen is as well.” 

On his other side, Karen grips his right hand. She squeezes it just like Maddie and says, “No more sulking alone. We sulk together, alright?”

Eddie nods, tears in his eyes, “Yeah, okay.”  

Chapter Text

‘You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever… I have loved none but you.’

Persuasion: Jane Austen

For the first time in his seven years as a firefighter, Eddie is finding the station to be an incredibly lonely place, instead of one of comfort. The only difference in those seven years compared to now? Buck still isn’t speaking to him. It’s been weeks. 

It’s the longest they’ve ever gone without speaking, besides the lawsuit. At least then, they could talk through lawyers, and Eddie still had the chance to explode on him in the grocery store. He hated it at the time, but he thinks he’d prefer it to this chosen silent treatment from Buck. At least then, Buck couldn’t talk to him, but now, he just doesn’t want to. 

And it’s killing Eddie. Maddie said that Buck just needed time. But how much is enough time? Somehow, Buck is unfazed by it all at work, while Eddie can barely stand another second where they aren’t speaking to one another. 

Buck goes about his day as normal at the station, partnering up with Ravi at any given moment, refusing to linger in any room Eddie’s also in, all the while, Eddie chases after him, haunting like a ghost. 

Because it seems that Buck is moving on quite quickly.

And it’s driving Eddie a little insane.

He’s walking up the stairs to the loft after restocking the ambulance with Hen hot on his tail. He can hear Ravi’s laughter busting from the couch, ringing throughout the room. 

Eddie doesn’t necessarily want to be in a room with everyone else, trying to act normal and not like his world is crashing down, but he left this week’s book pick on the couch. He’s accidentally really invested in the love life of this 19th-century heroine, a Jane Austen novel picked by Maddie. He’s almost finished it, with only three chapters left, and it’s good. He likes the yearning and the longing, and all he wants to do right now is ignore the rest of the firehouse and finish the book. 

When Eddie climbs up to the last step, the first person he sees is Buck, stationed at the stovetop while cooking them a belated lunch. It’s a familiar sight. Buck tends to make most of their meals now with Bobby gone, but it’s not just that. It used to be a sight Eddie most often saw in their own home. Not anymore, though. 

It’s moments like these, the mundane at work, that hurt the most. Eddie has to resist every bone in his body from walking straight towards him, leaning against the counter, and making mindless conversation while Buck cooks—like they always used to. He’s not allowed to do that anymore. Instead, he sits on the couch, grabs his book, and tunes out everyone’s conversation, keeping his mouth shut. 

He’s barely listening to anything that’s happening around him, not until Ravi makes a particular comment that he simply can’t ignore.

“What?” he whispers to Ravi beside him on the couch, because there’s no way what he just said could be true. It’s impossible. 

‘How was such jealousy to be quietened?’

“Mmh?” Ravi hums, looking Eddie’s way.

“What did you just say about Buck going on a date?” Eddie asks, louder than he realized, if the heads turning his way mean anything.

“Oh, um, uh–” Ravi stutters. He anxiously looks over Eddie’s head to where Buck stands in the kitchen. Eddie turns around to catch a glimpse of him also. His eyes are like saucers, glaring at Ravi and shaking his head profusely. 

Buck sighs and turns back to the stove. “Uh, yeah,” he mutters.

Eddie’s completely speechless. He looks down in shame. A thousand questions are running through his mind, but he feels like he can’t ask any of them. He has no right to know what’s happening in Buck’s life anymore.

Thankfully, Hen pitches in. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she cautiously asks. 

‘How was the truth to reach him?’

Eddie can feel her eyes hover his way, but he refuses to look back at anyone right now. He sits incredibly still and prays everyone forgets he’s even in the room. 

“What do you mean?” Buck replies. 

“Just,” she pauses, “it may be a bit too soon.”

Eddie doesn’t need to look his way to know that Buck’s eyebrows are furrowing. “Tommy and I broke up ages ago. I’m over that,” he says. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Hen clarifies. Everyone knows she’s talking about Bobby’s passing. It was Eddie’s exact argument as to why Buck shouldn’t have moved out in the first place. 

Maybe if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be going on this date either. 

“It’s one date,” Buck stresses, clearly irritated. 

Hen purses her lips, but doesn’t say anything else. 

‘How, in all the peculiar disadvantages of their respective situations, would he ever learn her real sentiments?’

The room pauses with a tension that’s uncommon for the firehouse. Chimney breaks it in an attempt at being supportive, “How’d you meet them?” he asks. 

“Uh, Ravi introduced us,” Buck answers. 

“She goes to my gym,” Ravi adds. 

“Yeah, she seems–” Buck hesitates, thinking, “nice,” he settles on. Something about it feels wrong on his tongue, like the words are foreign in his throat, like he knows it’s not the right decision. Eddie wants to shake him and scream it at him, but he stays silent. He bites his tongue. 

“When’s the big date?” Chimney asks.

“Uh, Friday night. We’re gonna go to that restaurant you and Maddie went to on your anniversary,” Buck answers. 

“Well, good for you, Buck,” Chim says, but it’s stilted. It doesn’t seem genuine.

Either way, Eddie can’t handle it anymore. He grabs his book and jumps up from the couch, eyes still down; he leaves the room. He runs back down the stairs before anyone can utter another word. He doesn’t care if he misses out on lunch; he just needs to be anywhere but here. He cannot tolerate it anymore. 

‘There is nothing worth my staying for.’

He finds himself in the locker room, sitting on the bench with his back to the door and his head in his hands. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, rocking in silence until there’s a soft knock on the glass behind him.

Eddie doesn’t want to turn around, but he does anyway.

“Hi,” Chimney says, a bit awkward, “you good?”

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles through a release of breath. 

Chimney stares at him for a beat, assessing him. Eddie kind of hates it. Eventually, Chimney actually enters the room and sits beside him on the bench. “C’mon, spill,” he orders. 

Eddie looks at him funny. “What?”

“I’m doing my Captain duty of checking in on you,” Chim says. 

Eddie holds back a snort. “No offence, but I hate this.”

Chim nods along. “Yeah, well, my mantra lately has been WWBD—What Would Bobby Do? And this is what Bobby would probably do, fatherly pat on the back and all.”

With a grimace, Eddie says, “Please don’t pat me on the back like a father.”

Chimney chuckles. “Then start spilling on why two of my greatest firefighters have been acting weird for weeks.”

Eddie thinks it’s interesting to see Chimney fall so easily into his Captaincy role, even if he probably wouldn’t agree, but strangely, he’s kind of a natural at it. He’s no Bobby, nobody is, but he’s his own version of a Captain—the one they need right now. 

“Surely at this point you know why,” Eddie replies. 

Chim gives him a pointed look, his legs stretching out in front of them, “No, I do, but the point is you gotta talk about it so I can fix it.”

“Don’t think you can fix this one, Chim,” Eddie sighs. 

“It’s kinda my job now,” Chimney shrugs, “and I promised my wife to try to do so.”

“Well, sorry to let her down,” Eddie murmurs. 

“Look, Eddie,” Chimney begins, attempting to sound sincere, but quickly backpedals with a groan instead, “Ugh, I don’t have this advice-giving shit down yet. I don’t know how to be inspiring like Bobby was to get you to fix your problems,” he complains.

Eddie thinks he’s been doing alright, all things considered. 

“I mean, that speech after the building collapse was pretty good,” he says. 

Chimney agrees, “That’s true. It did get you to stay.”

Eddie pauses. It’s not the truth. It’s the truth he allowed himself to believe at the time, but he knows it’s not it. He needed to stay—for other reasons. Reasons he’s only now allowing himself to accept. 

“That’s not why I stayed,” he admits. Chimney’s eyes widen, so he continues, “Well, yeah, I did need someone to tell me to stay, or I never would’ve done it on my own, but I knew I had to. I just… couldn’t admit it at the time. Los Angeles is home. This is home.”

“And Buck?” Chim asks with a hint of carefulness. 

Eddie lets out a deep guttural sigh. He buries his head in his hands again. “I don’t know what he wants from me, man. I don’t know what more I can do.”

Chimney tries to be reassuring. “You know nobody knows what goes on in his head, but a little birdy told me he’s been insufferable lately without you. You just gotta show up.”

Eddie peeks over at him through his fingers and asks, “Does this little birdy happen to be Maddie?”

Chimney shakes his head. “No, he’s the birdy. He keeps sulking on my couch every night, talking to my baby like he’s a therapist. It’s kind of annoying, actually. Can you please just take him back?”

Eddie sits up straighter and looks at Chimney. “I want to,” he admits. 

“So do it,” Chim emphasises, “tomorrow isn’t promised, you told me that,” and it’s true. Eddie said that years ago to Chimney. It’s almost like he’s forgotten it himself. “Are you really gonna waste your life arguing with the people you love?” he asks. 

Eddie doesn’t want that. He never wanted to be arguing with Buck. He never wanted this separation, but he doesn’t know how to make things right again. 

Sniffing, he says, “You should try telling Buck that.”

Chimney gives him a pointed look and says, “You don’t think I already did?” before patting him on the back and standing up from the bench, “Just think about it, okay?” he says, then turns to leave.

He’s right. Eddie wants to fix this—he needs to fix this. 

Eddie calls out after him, “What happened to no pats?” 

Regardless of the strange, out-of-order way life has been lately since Buck moved out, Eddie still finds himself with a book in hand, in Maddie’s kitchen on Saturday night. Like always, Eddie finds that the book club is a good distraction from everything he wants to forget. 

He’s only one drink in, despite the circumstances warranting him to get shitfaced with no judgment. Something stops him, though. Maybe it’s because he’s aware that he can’t call Buck to pick him up this time. It’s a good thing that Chris is staying at a friend’s house then. 

He walked into Maddie’s house feeling bitter and downhearted tonight, knowing that just the day before, Buck was on his date. Eddie’s been in the dumps since he found out, but at least nobody has pointed it out. He tries not to be snappish at work, and he tries to keep it from Christopher, but his guard is down tonight. His sour mood has barely improved since he showed up at Maddie’s door. Maddie and Karen can tell something is off with him, something more than his usual lately. 

They haven’t said anything yet, but he knows it's brewing. 

Maddie is excitedly flipping through her book with a silly grin on her face. She chose the book, and apparently she’s already read it before—something she neglected to mention beforehand. Eddie and Karen weren’t sure if that was technically cheating at book club, but they let her have it. She really loves the book.

She’s searching through the many tabs she has, color-coded and all, looking for a particular quote she was raving about. She’s a little more wine drunk than usual today, at least compared to Eddie. It’s nice to see her let loose and enjoy, so Eddie’s not going to question the way she’s been gushing over Captain Wentworth and comparing him to every other Jane Austen love interest that Eddie doesn’t know for the past twenty minutes. 

“Oh! Okay,” she shouts, having found the correct page. “Here it is, the quote from Wentworth. I think it’ll really resonate with us today,” she says ominously and immediately hands the book over to Eddie despite Karen sitting closer. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and mentally prepares himself for whatever call-out directed towards him will be on the page. He’s been to enough of these meetings lately to know how they go. Somehow, Maddie and Karen always find a way to make the books they read about him. He doesn’t know how they do it, or even why, but it doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

He reads the quote and bites his lip, holding back.

‘Six years of separation and suffering might have been spared. It is a sort of pain, too, which is new to me. I have been used to the gratification of believing myself to earn every blessing that I enjoyed. I have valued myself on honourable toils and just rewards… I must learn to brook being happier than I deserve.’ 

Maddie looks up at him, tilting her head with big eyes, as if she’s saying Do you get it? Eddie doesn’t want to seem rude and snort in her face, so he keeps his expression blank. 

He knows what she’s doing. She’s trying to make him think about Buck. 

And of course, Eddie does—it’s not a hardship for him. He thought about Buck the whole time while reading the book. The threat of six years of separation between them, like Anne and Captain Wentworth, scared him. His own inability to admit that maybe he deserves good things, just like Wentworth in this scene—it’s not lost on Eddie. He gets it. 

He just still doesn’t know if he’s at the point to do anything about it. He doesn’t know if he believes in himself yet. But to get Buck to talk to him again? He’d consider it.

Still, he asks her, “Are you serious?” 

Maddie moons, “Wentworth believed he had to earn Anne and earn her love, when she always loved him. Isn’t that so romantic? It’s Wentworth who gets to grow, not Anne. She already knows she loves him from the beginning. It’s him who has to learn.”

“It’s the yearning,” Karen bemoans. She’s almost as far gone as Maddie, way beyond Eddie. 

He slowly sips his drink and stays silent. 

Maddie continues with an excited look, bright in her eyes, “The book, even though it’s from Anne’s perspective, really is about Wentworth coming to terms with Anne breaking his heart when she ended their engagement six years before. Now they’re older and they discover a deeper connection between them. Right person, wrong timing type of thing.”

Karen happily joins in, “And they finally get the timing right.”

Eddie doesn’t speak and lets him have their moment of fun. He doesn’t want to bring the mood down. 

“Yeah!” Maddie shouts and turns to the page before to point out another quote. Eddie doesn’t even bother reading what it says. “Anne says herself that she was right to be persuaded when she broke things off the first time, because of safety, not risk. She was being cautious. And you know, maybe being cautious isn’t always the best,” Maddie says as her eyes not subtly cross over to where Eddie is sitting. 

He doesn’t react, but that doesn’t stop her from continuing. “I was cautious with Chim at first, and now look at us!” she says and gestures to the house around them with a large grin. 

Karen smiles back with almost teary eyes. They’re both really edging the line of being drunk. “Yeah. You ruined the friendship, like you were supposed to.” 

Maddie hums in agreement, still looking at Eddie. “Better than regret it for all time.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, finally having enough. “Okay, can we at least pretend we’re talking about the book?” he groans. They’re being so obvious today it’s borderline annoying. “And stop quoting Taylor Swift at me.”

Maddie’s eyebrow raises. “And how do you know that’s a Taylor Swift song?”

Eddie doesn’t dignify that with a response. He huffs, “Anyway.” 

Karen latches an arm over him and mutters into his side, “But we’re right.”

Eddie shrugs her off. He already feels fragile enough tonight; he really doesn’t want to have this conversation. “Can we dissect my life later? Or never, actually.”

“Eddie,” Maddie grumbles and grabs the hand resting beside his glass on the table, “Take it from me. You still have a chance,” she says. 

“Like Anne and Wentworth! See, we’re still talking about the book,” Karen shouts from his other side. 

He ignores her. “Do I, though?” he asks, turning to Maddie. “Buck moved out, he’s going on dates, he–” Eddie stumbles and releases a tough breath, “he doesn’t need me.”

It’s the truth that he’s been spending the last few days trying to accept, ever since Ravi mentioned Buck’s date. Buck doesn’t need him anymore, not even as a friend, and Eddie needs to learn how to be okay with that. 

He hasn’t been doing super well with that lately. 

Maddie squeezes his hand tight and musters an attempt at a serious stare. “He's trying to get over you,” she says. 

Eddie shakes his head and breaks their gaze. “That makes no sense,” he mutters. 

Why would Buck be trying to get over him? That would require them to be an us, which, according to Buck, there is no us between them. 

But Maddie isn’t having any of it. He should’ve known better than to challenge a tipsy Maddie. 

“You–, you see him, he needs that, even if he won’t admit it,” she says, “no matter who Buck goes on these dates with, they won’t see him like you do. He deserves someone like you, and you deserve that back.” 

“Don’t miss out on your chance at being happy together,” Karen adds in. 

Eddie looks down. Maddie is one of the people who knows Buck the best; he should believe whatever she says, but he can’t. There’s still a little worm in his brain refusing to let him.

“Would he even be happy with me? I mean, I’m awful at relationships. I’ll just break his heart,” Eddie mumbles. 

Maddie shakes her head. “No, you won’t. You and Buck are stronger than that, and you know that,” she says, very certain, then adds, “anyway, all those relationships were with women. That may be the reason why.” 

Eddie looks up at her, eyes turning misty. “That doesn’t mean I still won’t fuck this up. Besides, I don’t even know if he feels the same,” he confesses.

The two women share a collective groan. Eddie’s irritation only grows. 

“You’re so stupid sometimes, you know that, right?” Karen says while gulping her wine. 

“What?” Eddie splutters, “We’re best friends, that’s it. That’s always been it.” 

“That’s true, you are best friends, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be more,” Maddie says. 

Yeah, right. 

That implies that Buck could possibly want Eddie back, which he knows isn’t true. Buck said himself he didn’t need him. He thought it was a lie at the time; it sounded like a lie, but Eddie isn’t so sure anymore, given the recent circumstances. 

“But he’s never–” he begins to say, but suddenly pauses. Their almost-kiss in the kitchen comes to mind, like it does so often lately. Eddie can’t stop thinking about it, even if he tries. 

But that doesn’t count. Eddie was the one who was about to kiss Buck. That doesn’t mean Buck would’ve kissed him back or even wanted to. 

Anyway, if he’s going on dates now, it clearly shows that he never felt the same way.

“Buck’s never shown interest in me like that,” he concludes. 

Maddie’s snort is loud and obnoxious. “He sprained your ankle because you made a new friend,” she says, very matter-of-factly. 

“He felt left out,” Eddie argues. 

“Or he was jealous!” she shouts back. Eddie shakes his head because no, that was about Tommy, not him. 

Tommy, who saw Eddie as the competition throughout their whole relationship. Tommy, who broke up with Buck because of it. 

But no, it can’t be. 

“I think our next book needs to be a dictionary or something so you can learn the meaning of platonic,” Karen pitches in. 

Eddie glares at her. It’s not funny. “None of this means anything. And, if it were true, he wouldn’t be doing what he’s doing right now, then,” he declares. 

Maddie exhales but grins comically. That familiar mysterious glint is in her eyes again. “Well, I’m sworn to pinky-promise secrecy so I can’t say anything, but…” she drifts off.

Eddie’s head whips her way. “But?” he urges on. It’s no use, he knows that. He knows the severity of the Buckley pinky-promises. He still tries to worm it out of her anyway. 

But Maddie is resistant, like how he knew she would be. Instead, she just shouts, “Eddie! Think!” at him. 

And he is thinking. A million different possibilities run through his mind, and they all lead back to one thing. The one thing that Eddie cannot, in any lifetime, believe to be actually true. 

“Buck doesn’t feel the same way about me. He can’t, right?” he asks, everything banking on the answer. 

His heart stutters when Karen says, “He does.” 

Eddie feels his cheeks burn and asks her, “How do you know that?” 

Karen rolls her eyes. “Well, nobody swore me to pinky-promise secrecy, but I can read context clues, unlike you,” she mutters the last two words. 

Eddie turns back to Maddie, eyes wide. “Is it true?” 

All she does is nod. And with that nod, everything comes crashing down for Eddie. 

“Fuck,” he whispers breathless before remembering, “but the date!”

Maddie groans. “It doesn’t mean anything. You just need to talk to him,” she demands with certainty. 

But Eddie is already losing it. He feels the panic rising in his chest. He grips the ledge of the table and shakes his head, unwanted tears building up. “It’s… It’s too late. I’ve already fucked everything up,” he pants. 

“No, you haven’t, Eddie,” Maddie says, willing to calm him down. She squeezes his shaking hand. “It’s not too late. Nothing for him will ever compare to you. Just go talk to him."

He looks up at both women with big eyes and pleads, “But what do I say?”

“The truth,” Karen answers. 

Can he do that? 

Maybe he can. He owes Buck that much. 

In a small voice, he says, “I love him.” 

“Go tell him,” Maddie repeats herself, “It’s not too late.”

“Now?” he squeaks. 

She nods profusely. “Yes, now! No time like the present.”

“I–” Eddie stutters. He’s half in shock still. “I don’t even know his new address.”

Quickly, Maddie grabs his phone resting on the table and turns it to his face to unlock it. She opens the maps app and types an address. “Done. Go, now.” 

Immediately with newfound determination, Eddie stands, his chair squeaking as he does so, and nods his head vigorously. “Okay. I can do this.” 

Maddie jumps up to her own feet in excitement. “Yes, you can,” she shouts. 

Karen stands up as well. “C’mon. Go, go, go,” she demands as she begins to push Eddie through the house. He laughs despite the tear that falls down his cheek as he lets both of them guide him out the front door, shouting words of encouragement. 

It’s raining outside. The three of them run to Eddie’s car, with Maddie and Karen pushing him in and shutting the door behind him, not caring that they’re getting soaked. 

It’s not until Eddie’s sitting in the car, shaking from the rain, that it really hits him what he’s doing. The panic returns with his stomach churning. He doesn’t know if he’s brave enough to do this. 

But from the porch, he can still see Maddie and Karen’s wide grins. Maddie throws him a thumbs-up as Karen bounces in excitement. 

Maybe Eddie really can do this.

He will allow himself to have this. 

With all the strength that his body can muster, Eddie knocks on the unfamiliar front door with his rain-drenched fist. 

A moment passes, and he considers his options of running away until the door suddenly opens with Buck standing on the other side. His hair is a tussled mess, and his jumper is rumpled—clearly he’s just woken up. Buck’s eyes grow wide when they meet Eddie’s. He rubs at them tiredly.

“Hi,” Eddie mutters breathlessly. He tries to smile, sheepishly, as rain pours down all around him.

Buck gives him a less-than-friendly glare. “Shouldn’t you be at book club?” he asks, unkindly, without even saying hello. All Eddie does is shrug at the question. “How did you even get my address?” 

“Maddie told me.” 

“Sure,” Buck says with crossed arms, “What else has my sister been telling you?” 

Eddie takes a deep breath. “That I need to be honest with you. That’s why I’m here.” 

Buck looks wary, like he’s fighting against the urge to believe Eddie. “Honest about what?” he asks. 

“Buck,” Eddie sighs, “can you let me in?” 

But Buck hesitates. He looks past him into the cold, rainy street. The moon shines bright against the reflection on the road. “It’s late,” he mutters. 

Eddie pleads. He begs for Buck’s eyes to meet his own again, for just an ounce of his attention that Eddie’s been craving for weeks. He shakes his head, raindrops flicking from his already messy hair. “No, it’s not. It’s not too late.”

Buck’s gaze meets his, deadpanned. “Eddie, it’s literally midnight.” 

“That’s not what I–” Eddie begins, but gives up. Shivering, he says, “Can you just let me in? Please? I’m soaking, and I don’t want to have this conversation in the doorway.”

Buck stares at him for a moment, blankly—almost like he’s debating with himself about it. Finally, he opens the door wider and steps back. 

He walks into the house, straight into the living room. Eddie follows him in. His gaze wanders across the room. He finally gets the chance to peek inside the house Buck left his for.

He hates it. 

Buck’s new house is small, too small for him. Sure, he’s only one person, but Buck’s a family guy. He needs more space than this. It looks almost lifeless. Buck said he wanted a place with some character, but Eddie can’t see that anywhere here. There are still piles of boxes everywhere, with Buck’s dumb couch sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by them. 

Buck watches Eddie as he wanders into the space. “I haven’t had the time to properly unpack,” he says defensively. 

Eddie hums, “Mmh,” while manoeuvring around the boxes. 

“So, what was so urgent you had to tell me right now?” Buck huffs as he leans on the wall on the other side of the room, like he’s trying to put as much space as possible between them. Eddie hates that, too. 

And that’s the big question, isn’t it? The whole drive over, Eddie’s mind ran through every option of what he could say to Buck, but he never settled on the perfect thing. He could just blurt it out—he wants to—to tell Buck he’s in love with him, but Eddie still isn’t sure how Buck will take it just yet. He cannot risk fucking things up more than he already has. He cannot afford to lose any more parts of Buck. 

“You were wrong,” Eddie says and turns around to finally look at him.

Buck scoffs with crossed arms, “Wow. Off to a great start, Eddie.” 

Eddie resists rolling his eyes. He knows this isn’t going to be easy. “Can you let me finish, please?” he urges. 

Buck pulls a face, like he wants to argue back, but he stays silent. He raises his eyebrows, willing Eddie to continue. 

Gathering his thoughts, Eddie takes a large, deep breath before he starts speaking. “You were wrong when you said I didn’t need you. I do. I’ll always need you,” he confesses, the words spilling out of him, “I have never not needed you. Even when I was in Texas, I needed you. I mean, I called you every day because I needed you to remind me why I was doing this. I needed you to tell me to dad up to fix things with Christopher. I needed you to help me cook over FaceTime because I don’t know how to be without you. I haven’t known for the last seven years, and I never want to know,” he says, daring to step further into the room, closer to Buck. 

Buck doesn’t speak. He stays quiet with eyes tracking every inch of Eddie’s moments. His poker face doesn’t falter.

Eddie rakes a shaking hand through his wet hair and continues, “This silence and the distance have been killing me. I can’t handle it. I can’t stand seeing you at work and knowing I can’t talk to you. I hate coming home knowing you’re not there anymore. I miss you. I miss my best friend.” 

More than anything. 

“I’m right here,” Buck grumbles with a head shake and raised eyebrows. 

Eddie takes a single step closer. “But you’re not. You haven’t been for a while,” he pleads. Buck’s expression flashes, his composure diminishing—he knows that Eddie is right. Eddie exhales again and confesses through a tremble, “And I need you. I needed you before I left for Texas, and I needed you when I was gone, and I’ve needed you ever since I came back, but you haven’t been here, not really. You’re a million worlds away. You don’t talk to me anymore.” 

Buck’s eyes diverge from his, looking up. He sniffles, making Eddie’s heartstrings tug. He doesn’t want Buck to cry anymore. 

“So, you were wrong. I will always need you, Buck,” with a gasp, he finally tells him what he should’ve told him forever ago, “but even more than that, I want you.” 

The words feel raw in Eddie’s throat, foreign. He never says out loud what he wants—it seems that it’s about time he does so.

Buck shakes his head and squeezes his eyes tight. “No, you’re–” his words drift off as his bottom lip wobbles.

Eddie cuts him off. “Yes, Buck,” he exclaims and edges forward, crossing the distance of the room to the corner Buck banished himself to, “I want all of you, every single part. I want the messy parts. I want to be the person you lean on when things get hard. I want the good, and the bad, and everything you want to give me. I want it all,” he pleads. 

Eddie stands before him, but Buck’s eyes are still shut. Up close, Eddie can see the crickles by his eyes as Buck wills tears not to fall. His face is flushed with eyebrows furrowed. Eddie wants nothing more than to caress his cheek, to calm the storm brewing, but he holds back, arms swinging by his side.

“You don’t mean that,” Buck whispers. 

Eddie can feel his own eyes well up at his words, in Buck’s belief that nobody could want every part of him. Eddie wants to curse every person who’s ever made him feel that way—whoever has made Buck feel unworthy of his unconditional love. None of them deserved Buck, not his parents, not any of his exes, not anyone who used him and discarded him. They don’t know Buck like he does. They don’t get to deserve the person behind it all. The Buck who loves so strongly, with every fibre of his being. The Buck who cries so easily, pain seeping through every inch of his body. The Buck, who means everything to Eddie. 

“Of course I do. Haven’t I shown it? All these years? Every time things got tough, I was there for you, and you were there for me. We had each other’s backs, but we don’t anymore,” Eddie says and wrings his hands nervously, “And that might be my fault because I left, and that ruined us, and I was going to leave again, but I never wanted to. I never wanted to leave you, because I want to be with you, always.” 

Finally, Buck opens his eyes and meets his gaze. They’re violet with tears. “You didn’t ruin us,” he says in a quiet voice, hidden under his heavy breathing. 

A lone matching tear falls down Eddie’s cheek. “But I did. You said so yourself. You said there was no us.” 

“That’s my fault,” Buck murmurs. 

Eddie fiercely shakes his head. Really, it’s both of their faults. “No, it isn’t. Things were already a mess between us before I came back home,” he says. 

Messy and hard. 

“But I want to fix things. That’s why I’m here. I can’t live without you. I don’t want to,” he emphasises and eases a foot closer, “I said that you needed me, but really, I just needed you, and I didn’t know how to ask for that. I don’t ever let myself have the things I want, the things that bring me joy, but you do, Buck. And I’m trying to get better at asking for the things I want, so here I am, asking you.” 

Buck’s expression shifts. The sadness is replaced by wariness. He steps off the wall, but still keeps his distance. 

“What is it, exactly, that you’re asking me? I need you to be very clear, Eddie,” he demands. 

Eddie takes a deep breath.

It’s now or never. 

“Do you want to know the real reason why you were called to pick me up from Maddie’s the other week?” 

Buck’s eyebrow raises. “You ready to tell me now?” he asks. 

“I think so,” Eddie mumbles as his hands shake in front of him, “I–,” he stutters with nerves taking over, “Whenever I’m at my worst, you’re the person I want to call. Like when I’m having a panic attack in your sister’s kitchen because I realized I’m gay.”

The single word floats in the air between them for a moment. Eddie’s heart pounds at a lightning speed while Buck stays silent. He stares at Eddie with a look of pure confusion. 

“What?” he heaves, more of a release of breath rather than a word.

Eddie nods. His vision blurs from the tears living on his waterline. “That’s why I was freaking out. It scared me, and I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

“Eddie–” Buck gasps. He’s completely tongue-tied.

Weeping, Eddie rasps the words out through a shaky breath, “And I wasn’t the one who called you, because in the moment I was scared about what it meant for us, but I still let Karen call you anyway because I–, even when you scare me, you still make me feel safe.”

Buck blinks away tears. In a small, broken voice, he says, “I scare you?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Eddie sobs and takes a moment to inhale, willing himself to calm down, “It scares me how much I depend on you. My whole life, I’ve done things on my own. I’ve never depended on anyone. And then suddenly, there you were. Always just… showing up without me even having to ask,” he says. 

It’s something he’s never admitted before out loud. Eddie was brought up in this world with the belief to never rely on anyone. He was always the protector—of his younger sisters, his son. He had to grow up too soon; he was never the one protected. That was, until he met Buck. 

Buck, who has been his partner through it all, helping him countless times. Buck, who loves his son just as Eddie does. Buck, who always has his back. 

Eddie continues, “And then all of a sudden you weren’t there anymore, and the thought of doing life without you scared me even more than the thought of needing you in the first place.” 

Tears start rapidly falling down Buck’s cheeks, his face burning. Eddie wants to wipe them away, hands inching closer, but he holds back. He keeps speaking, “And I don’t want to scare you or–, or push you, but I want to be that for you. I’m just trying to show up for you the same way you’ve always shown up for me. And I know you think that you don’t need it, but I used to tell myself the same thing, and you–, you knew me better than to believe that. You’re hurting, Buck. And I want to be the person you lean on,” he concludes. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Buck brokenly mutters. There’s a vulnerability within his eyes, a pleading, and Eddie knows exactly what he means. Buck’s always been good like that; it’s no surprise he’d apologize for pushing too hard and being there, not that Eddie wants an apology for it. It was a blessing. But it’s more than that. It’s also an apology for pulling away, for making Eddie think that things between them were ruined. 

Eddie takes a step closer until they’re face-to-face. He can feel Buck’s tense breath hitting his face. He lifts a hand, using the pad of his thumb to dry away a stray tear that falls from Buck’s eyes. More takes its place. Eddie’s hands stay holding Buck as his eyes grow wide from the closeness. 

He whispers into the little space between them, “You don’t just scare me, Buck, you overwhelm me. You make me feel insane, but in a good way. When I’m with you, everything just feels so right. It feels like home. And when you’re gone, everything feels wrong. Tomorrow isn’t promised, right? We know that. And I don’t want to spend another second of my life without telling you exactly what you mean to me. I couldn’t stand being in Texas without you, and I can’t stand you living here instead of with me, because I love you,” he exhales, releasing all presentiments and anxieties that intrude his mind. He caresses Buck’s cheek, wet from the tears and prays, “Tell me it’s not too late.” 

A ghost of a smile invades Buck’s face. “It’s not too late,” he whispers back—a promise. 

Eddie gasps, wide eyes blinking, and before he even realizes he’s doing it, he’s pulling Buck in until their lips finally meet. A kiss that means a thousand words for the both of them. 

With the hand on Buck’s cheek, Eddie draws him into himself, bodies impossibly close. Buck snakes a grip onto his waist, pressing back just as hard, with just as much longing as Eddie. After years of self-restraint, it’s a craving they’re both finally giving in to.

The heat of Buck’s mouth is intoxicating. Everything about him is intoxicating, and Eddie never wants to let go. He cannot bear the thought of ever being detached from Buck again, existing as separate entities. He wants to swim in his bloodstream, live in between his ribcage. The distance, both physical and metaphorical, has been enough to last a lifetime, and Eddie prays to never experience that again. Now that he has Buck, he doesn’t intend on ever letting him go—of letting him pull away again. 

So he presses harder, and Buck meets him there just as hungry. Eddie can feel him over every fragment of his body, and finally, he feels at home. The wreck that is his mind as of late eases into a peace that Eddie hasn’t properly felt since he held Christopher as a baby—the knowing that this is something life-changing in the best way possible. 

And the best part? Knowing Buck feels exactly the same. 

“Eddie,” he moans against Eddie’s lips like a prayer. Tears still escape their eyes, but Eddie wipes Buck’s away softly as he bites into his bottom lip with his strong canines. Buck moans louder. 

“It’s okay,” Eddie mutters. 

“We should talk,” Buck mumbles back, but his hands tell another story, roaming across Eddie’s back until he’s gripping the back of his neck, pulling him in harder, “like properly talk.”

Eddie hums noncommittally. Buck is right; he knows that, but the taste of his lips is just too addicting to form any coherent thoughts for a conversation right now. However, he will try, for Buck’s sake. 

Against his lips, Buck murmurs again, “I’m sorry I’ve been acting like a dick.”

At that, Eddie pulls back only a few licks away, still breathing in Buck’s air. They’ve got the rest of their lives ahead of them for kissing anyway. This conversation is probably the more adult thing to do right now before they start stripping in Buck’s barren living room. 

He rests his forehead against Buck’s, staring deeply at the man before him. “No, you haven’t been,” he answers, breathless.

“Yes, I have, I–,” Buck stutters, eyes blinking shut momentarily as he exhales, “I was pulling away and I was doing it on purpose.”

“You were hurting,” Eddie defends. 

Buck tuts. “So were you. And it was more than just that,” he says.

Eddie’s brow furrows. He pulls back only so he can properly look at Buck, hands still holding his jaw. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

Buck takes a deep breath before saying, “I realized when you came back that I was in love with you–, am in love with you,” and Eddie can’t help but smile a large, stupid grin at that. He continues, “Maddie helped make me realize. When you were gone, the day after I slept with Tommy, I was telling her how he basically implied that I was in love with you, and she said it wouldn’t be so crazy. That really sent me through a loop, and when you came back, it just hit me that, yeah, I am in love with you.” 

“Thank God for Maddie,” Eddie chuckles, “It’s probably why she’s been making every book we read about you.”

Buck smiles at that, his cheeky grin returning. Eddie’s never been so happy to see it again. “Yeah? So you do talk about me at book club?” 

“Don’t let it go to your head, bud,” he says and flicks Buck on the nose, causing him to scrunch it. “Anyway, let’s go back to you being in love with me.” 

Buck fondly rolls his eyes before continuing, his grin diminishing only a hint as his cheeks remain pink, “But being around you, knowing you couldn’t love me back like that, it just–, it hurt too much. So I pulled away and I moved out because I didn’t know how to be around you anymore.” 

“Buck–” 

Buck shakes his head, not wanting any more tears to fall. “And it really fucking sucked because all I wanted was you, and it just felt like another thing I wanted but couldn’t have. Us, living together, with Chris, it made me feel like I had it, or that I almost did. And I felt stupid to believe that I could have it, so I didn’t let myself even have a part of it–, of you,” he confesses. 

“You could’ve talked to me about this,” Eddie whispers, caressing his cheek. He knew Buck was hurting; that much was obvious, but he didn’t realize that he unintentionally played a role in that hurting. Hearing Buck explain what it was like for him while Eddie was just trying to hold on to them breaks him. 

Buck’s pleading eyes burn into his soul. “I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position. I thought you were straight, and I couldn’t risk anything,” he says, and grips a hold of one of Eddie’s hands still resting on his cheek, “your friendship means everything to me, Eddie.”

Eddie frowns. Buck squeezes his hand at the sight. “But you wouldn’t even let me be your friend,” he whispers. 

Buck’s eyes glisten. “Because even that hurt. It was my best friend that I fell in love with in the first place. I didn’t want to jeopardise any of that, but the way you kept showing up for me, trying to support me, just made me fall in love with you even more. I thought time and space would help me get over you, but that didn’t work either, because nothing could ever make me stop from loving you,” he says. 

“And, is that why you went on that date?” Eddie asks with a hint of bitterness. 

That causes Buck to break. He laughs again. “Yeah. I tried moving on so that eventually we could go back to normal. Even on that date, I thought of you the whole time. It killed me putting space between us, but I thought I had to. I missed you so much,” he says.

Eddie smiles tearfully. “I missed you, too,” he whispers before pulling Buck into a tight embrace.

Buck lets him. He falls into Eddie, wrapping both arms completely around him and sinking his face into the crook of his neck. Eddie holds him, squeezing back impossibly strong. He rests his chin upon Buck’s head, breathing in the scent of his curling hair. He never intends on letting him go again. 

Buck mumbles into his shoulder, “I was so mad, Eddie, at everything. I didn’t want to fuck everything up. I was so mad at that I let myself fall in love with you, and that you couldn’t love me back.”

Eddie holds him even tighter. “But, I do. I do love you,” he whispers, “I’m not leaving, ever again. This is my home, with you.”

“I love you, too,” Buck says, and Eddie could never doubt that. 

Though there is one last thing he needs to ask of Buck, “Just let me be there for you, okay? When you’re hurting, don’t push me out; talk to me. We need each other. Promise?”

Buck pulls away only to look up at him. He smiles, eyes still brimming with tears and whispers back, “I promise.” 

Chapter Text

‘Those are the moments that make a life. Not grand gestures, but mundane details that, over time, accumulate until you have a home, instead of a house.’

Funny Story: Emily Henry 

As has been his norm for the past year, Eddie finds himself sitting in Maddie’s kitchen on a Saturday night with a glass in hand and a book in front of him. The air is light, there’s a giddiness in the room tonight, and it’s probably the fact that all three of them are equally wine drunk. Eddie thinks that the book they’re discussing warrants it—a romance. 

He’s half-zoned out of the conversation, too hyper-focused on stacking as much cheese and prosciutto on a single cracker that he can before shoving it into his mouth as Maddie fawns over the main couple’s relationship in the book. He assumes the groan he made was only internal, imagined by him, paired with an eyeroll as not to be rude out loud, but it seems it wasn’t, by the way Maddie and Karen turn to look at him with a glare.

“And what’s your problem?” Maddie asks him. There’s a hint of amusement to it, though. 

“Mmh?” Eddie hums, playing dumb. 

“Do you not agree that Daphne and Miles were perfectly suited for each other?” she says, referring to the two main characters of the book. 

The thing is, Eddie doesn’t really have many strong opinions for or against them. They worked well together; he can acknowledge that, but to him, something was missing—he thought about it the whole time while reading. He just can’t put his finger on what, though. 

“It’s not that. I just thought they were…” he pauses to think before deciding on, “fine.”

“Fine?” Maddie repeats in disbelief. Karen snorts at the exchange and sips her drink. 

Eddie shrugs. “Look, I’m not a big romance guy. I don’t like romance books, I guess. They’re just not realistic, a little too cheesy. So, they were pretty fine to me,” he says.

Karen’s laughter is boisterous. “Really?” she gasps for breath. Maddie can’t help but join in a little. 

“What?” Eddie questions her. 

“I know that’s bullshit. Hen told me about your secret love for telenovelas years ago,” Karen claims, with Eddie’s already flushed cheeks burning a brighter red. 

“Oooh, telenovelas, hey?” Maddie teases. 

Eddie rolls his eyes despite how true it is, clearly obvious by the look on his face. “That’s different,” he argues. 

“Literally how? Nothing is realistic about those,” Karen says. 

“It’s–, it’s how Chris and I practice our Spanish,” Eddie stutters and quickly takes a swing of his drink to cover it up. 

“You still using that excuse?” Karen snorts, raising her eyebrows. 

“Oh, shut up,” Eddie groans and throws a small piece of cheese off the charcuterie board at her. It lands in her drink, floating at the top. Maddie laughs at them. 

“Ew,” Karen grimaces while she tries fishing it out with the tip of her nail.

Eddie smirks. “Deserved.” 

“I’m sorry, I just–, I still can’t believe you don’t like romance books. Like, we’ve read other romance books and you haven’t said anything,” Maddie says.

“Because he’s lying,” Karen sings. 

“What?” Eddie exclaims again. 

“Eddie, c’mon. You are living in a romance novel,” Karen beams. She says it as if it’s obvious. 

But Eddie shakes his head; it doesn’t feel fitting. “No, I’m not.”

Personally, he wouldn’t compare him and Buck to any romance novel. They’ve had so many struggles. Nothing about them is perfect. Eddie loves that about them, he wouldn’t change a thing—but it’s definitely not romance novel material. 

Karen scoffs. “So, you’re saying that the last eight years, back-and-forth, will-they-won’t-they between you and Buck isn’t pulled straight out of a romance book?” 

“No, because…” Eddie begins, but drifts off because he can’t actually think of a defence against it. When you put it that way, it does kind of sound like something out of a book.

“See! Exactly,” Karen shouts with a grin, and takes a victory sip of her drink, now free of floating cheese. Maddie chuckles along with her. 

“That’s different, though,” he defends, “Buck and I worked hard for what we have. We made it, together, y’know? We put in the effort. Even when you think we’d give up, we don’t. We always try. That’s realistic,” Eddie says, then picks up the book, “this is not.” 

Karen snorts into her glass. “Sure.”

“I’m right and you know it,” he argues back a little to similar to how Christopher does when Eddie tells him to do the dishes. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe,” she retorts. Eddie’s not above sticking his tongue out at her like a child, but Maddie jumps in before he gets the chance. 

“Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, Buck said something pretty similar to me a few years ago,” Maddie says. 

Eddie stops glaring at Karen for a moment to look over at Maddie instead. “What? Really?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Maddie says, “we were talking about some movie, I think, and he said something about how real love is when you or your partner are at their worst, and maybe you should give up, but you decide to try again anyway.” 

Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up as a stupid grin escapes onto his face. “He said that?”

Maddie nods. “Yeah.”

It makes sense, Eddie thinks, that Buck would believe in that. There have been countless times over the last eight years that they could’ve given up on each other, even way before they were dating. But they never did. Buck was always there for him at his lowest, and after much restraint, Eddie was there for Buck, too. 

It’s been six months since they got together, and it most certainly hasn’t been an easy six months. They’re still grieving—they’ll always be grieving—but that doesn’t mean they can’t be happy together too. Even when things are hard, Eddie wouldn’t want his life with Buck to be any other way, because that’s love. Something he’ll never give up on. 

“Wow. You guys really are perfect for each other,” Karen says, half joking. 

“That and I don't think anyone else would put up with their annoyingness like the other would,” Maddie jests. 

“Yeah, he’s–, he’s a good one,” Eddie says, still a little breathless and purposefully ignoring their teasing. 

Maddie turns to him with a soft smile. “I’m glad he found you, and that you found him.” 

He looks up at her with dewy eyes, growing shy. “Really?” 

“Of course. You worked so hard for this. You deserve to be happy together now,” she answers and rubs his arm. 

Eddie’s smile matches hers. He can’t help but feel a little giddy over the praise from Buck’s sister out of all people. “Yeah, and I am. I’m really happy,” he says. 

Maddie leans in like she’s telling him a secret. “He is, too,” she says, “he tells me things.”

Eddie's grin turns cheeky as he asks, “Not everything, though, right?” with a wink. 

“Ew!” Maddie exclaims and whacks him hard on the arm with a look of pure disgust. Karen laughs loudly, and Eddie joins her. 

They’re laughing so hard that they don’t even hear the opening and closing of the front door, or the footsteps that make their way into the kitchen, until Buck walks in. 

“What’s ew?” he asks when he steps into the room, keys jingling in his hand. He beelines immediately to Eddie’s side, reaching out to him on instinct. 

If it were even possible, Eddie’s face lights up even more at the sight of him. The stupid grin from before returns. 

“Us, apparently,” Eddie answers him fondly. His eyes track Buck’s movement throughout the room until he’s standing next to Eddie’s chair.

“You wound me, Mads,” Buck jokes, slapping his chest to fake grasp his heart and laughing, which causes a scoff from Maddie. As his laughter dies down, he lowers the hand from his chest to hold the back of Eddie’s neck instead, willing him to look up. When their eyes meet, Buck murmurs a soft, “Hi,” to him. 

Eddie reaches out, grabbing his other hand and smiles up at him. “Hi,” he whispers back in a sultry voice. With the grip on his neck, Buck tilts his head up so he can plant a small peck upon Eddie’s lips, both grinning too hard for the moment to last much longer. 

Still, a groan is heard from beside them as they pull apart. “This is why I’m ew-ing,” Maddie exclaims and points at them. 

Eddie snorts and looks over his shoulder at her. “Remember two minutes ago when you said we deserve to be happy together?” 

“Ooh, so you do love us,” Buck teases. The tips of his fingers are playing with the hairs on the nape of Eddie’s neck, who revels in it. 

“I never said that,” Maddie lies. 

“We have a witness,” Eddie counters, gesturing to Karen. 

Karen looks back at them over her glass with wide eyes. Maddie turns to her to give her one of her signature looks. “I’m not getting involved in this,” Karen proclaims. 

Buck chuckles, but pulls a little on the back of Eddie’s neck as he does so, garnering his attention again. “Wow, so you do really only use book club to talk about me, huh?” he teases. 

Eddie glares up at him and shoves his side, muttering, “Shut up.” 

But all that does is cause Buck’s smile to grow. He looks so beautiful tonight, Eddie can’t help but think, despite his teasing. Smiling under kitchen lights. It’s nice to see his spark return to him in little ways. 

He knows that they’ll never be the people they were before Bobby had died, but Eddie’s starting to like the people that they are now. 

They’ll always miss Bobby; that’s a given forever, but Bobby was the one who always encouraged them to be the better versions of themselves. That is who Eddie thinks he and Buck are now. A version of themselves where they can love each other freely, where they can make each other better. He knows Bobby would’ve wanted it that way also.

So seeing Buck’s smile return to him so easily after such a long, hard year makes Eddie’s heart soar. He tries every day to make Buck grin like that, and every day it gets a little easier. 

He gazes up at Buck with a lovesick expression on his face, looking like a sunflower searching for the sun, while Buck looks down at him in exactly the same way. 

From across the table, Karen points at them and shouts, “See! You’re proving my point!”

The moment is broken. Eddie groans and drags a hand down his face. “Not again,” he mumbles. 

“What point?” Buck asks. 

“Eddie says he hates romance books, but you two are literally living in one,” Karen explains. 

“Aw,” Buck coos and looks back down at Eddie, “I think so too.”

“Really?” Eddie asks with raised eyebrows. 

“‘Course,” Buck nods and attempts to hide his growing smile by biting his lip, “it hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t change it for anything,” he says. 

Eddie looks at him—really looks at him, before whispering back, “Me too.” 

“You think romance books are cheesy, and yet you just made us witness that,” Maddie complains. 

“Okay, fine, we’re leaving,” Buck exaggerates and releases his grip on Eddie. “Chris has been begging me for ice cream all night, so we gotta get home before it all melts in the car,” he says. 

Home. Their home, because before Buck’s six-month lease officially ended on his new house, he was already moving back in with Eddie. As it should’ve always been, he exclaimed at the time. 

Eddie stands up, wobbling a little. “You spoil him.” 

“Do you not want ice cream?” Buck asks, but Eddie stays silent. He really could go for some ice cream right now. “Exactly,” Buck says. 

The two of them say their goodbyes to Maddie and Karen, with Eddie giving them loud mwah kisses on their heads as he passes them on the way out of the room. Once Buck is by his side again, Eddie immediately grabs his hand, swinging it as Buck leads them out of the house and towards his car parked in the driveway. 

He rounds to the passenger side first, aiming to open the door for Eddie like he always does when Eddie’s had a little too much to drink. Before he can, though, Eddie’s pushing him against the door and kissing him hard. 

Buck gasps into the kiss, but quickly follows through. He squeezes Eddie’s hand, bringing it to his chest as his other hand grips onto Eddie’s waist tightly. It only spurs Eddie on, grabbing Buck’s jaw and slipping his tongue in his mouth, drinking in Buck’s moan. 

After a few more minutes of mindlessly making out in the driveway, Eddie pulls back, swollen lips turning upwards into a grin. Buck looks completely dazed when his eyes eventually open to meet Eddie’s. 

“I love you,” Eddie whispers into the air between them.

Buck softens at the words—his usual reaction whenever Eddie says it in earnest, like he still can’t believe his luck. He squeezes Eddie’s hand again and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles before whispering back, “I love you, too. Let’s go home.”