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Hypotheticals are easy for Buck. He and Chris have a longstanding okay— but what if the tiger had eight legs? Then could it beat the whale? It’s easy to talk about what can never happen. That’s sort of why Buck starts thinking about his future.
Realistically, he’ll be settled down with a girl—or a guy!—who can somewhat put up with him and is equally interested in his weird trivia. They’ll live in a nice house, retire together, travel around, but always come home to LA.
Hypothetically, he’s with Eddie and Christopher. He’s living in their two-bedroom house, making breakfast every day. He’s giving rides to Chris’s friends and lying down next to Eddie at night. He spends the rest of his life surrounded by his closest friends and the people he loves the most.
There’s no harm in indulging these thoughts, so Buck lets his mind wander on low-risk calls, during books he’s absently reading, and conversations he happens to overhear. Saving a girl from where she had climbed between the walls in an old house becomes if Eddie and I ever adopted, and each flirt and compliment from spectators leads to if Eddie and I were married.
From there, it just becomes a habit. If, if, if. That’s what he’ll tell anyone who asks. Not that they would, considering that the speculation is solely for himself. It’s just a joke; he basically already lives with the two anyway. If Eddie ever wanted more, though— (When, when, when, his mind repeats).
When Buck says it aloud the first time, it’s not even as a joke. He’s spent enough time thinking about his future and laughing about it to himself that it just slips out. The call was helping a scared kid down from the roof, since the parents didn’t trust their ladder on the three-story house. It’s a beautiful house, to be fair. Nice yard, open windows. Safe to say… he’s distracted. Ravi’s up on the ladder where Buck would usually be, so the rest of the team is loitering on the ground.
“This house would be perfect for when Eddie and I are on child four,” he says absently.
Obviously, the place isn’t accessible; all the houses on the block are too tall with winding pathways, but Buck’s thinking more on the scale of nice neighborhoods and friendly architecture. It’s not too modern, like how some of the nearby streets have started to go. The front even has a swing on the porch and multiple fruit trees.
“Yeah. When we win the lottery, we can buy it straight up,” Eddie deadpans.
He’s not wrong; the framing is delicate, and they’re clearly in a very rich area. The nearest cafe would probably be ten dollars for a black coffee.
Then… wait. Eddie just responded to his hypothetical with another one. He didn’t outright deny it.
Buck does not freeze. He doesn’t blush or splutter or do anything else incriminating to indicate that he didn’t mean to say that aloud. He stands very casually and nods.
Chimney, on the other hand, starts choking on his water. Buck, still being very casual, walks over to Chim to ask if he’s okay.
Chim waves him off, caps his water then turns to glare at Buck.
“This is where your relationship is now?” Chim asks.
Buck can feel his face flushing, knowing it’s probably weird to be talking about child four when they’re not even dating. But to be fair, it’s even weirder for your friend to go along with it and continue the bit.
“Shut up!” Buck hisses. “It’s just a hypothetical!”
A hypothetical where they’re in love and married and living together and get to be the first thing they see in the morning—
“It’s not a hypothetical if you say when!”
Buck exasperatedly looks away, although Chim pushes at his shoulder and continues to whisper.
Ravi’s got the girl and is carefully walking her down. Hen looks more relaxed now that Ravi’s assured her that the kid is okay. Eddie sees him looking and gives him a wave, causing Buck to turn back to Chim, who has now settled down.
Buck and Eddie already share enough of their lives that it’s not as… weird as Chim’s making it out to be. The jump from bringing pastries to Eddie’s in the morning to casually bringing up buying a house together isn’t that far-fetched.
At least, that’s what Buck tells himself. Some good old denial never has done him wrong. Except for when it has. Well—
“Do you…” Chim pinches his brow, interrupting Buck’s stream of thoughts.
He looks as if he’s physically pained to be speaking the words.
“Want. To live with Eddie?” he finishes, sounding horribly stilted and awkward.
Buck feels the same. He bites down on the instant refusal to carefully laugh as Ravi steps down. The parents rush up to grab their daughter, the wind starts to howl, and Buck can feel Eddie’s eyes burning into the back of his head.
“Ha. I was just… saying that it’s a nice house. Too big for just us and Chris.”
Does it make sense? Probably not. Most definitely not, considering the way Chim sighs.
“Okay,” Chim relents.
He twists around, and Buck really hopes he’s not looking for Hen.
He waits for Bobby to call out for them to get back by the engine, and goes right back to Eddie. Right meaning the appropriate amount of time, of course.
“You’re still coming by tonight, right?”
He very carefully does not give any reference to Chim or their conversation. Eddie’s slack posture gives Buck the indication that he hadn’t heard. If he brings it up, there’s no telling how Eddie will react. Maybe the response was just an absent-minded observation, purely hypothetical. Buck’s not about to test any limits.
Eddie stretches out his arms and smiles, “Yeah, I just have to swing by mine for a bit. But I can be over by 5?”
“Perfect.”
Chris wanted to help make dinner, a new chicken pasta salad recipe he had found. Buck thinks he had it at a friend’s house. But whenever Buck asks him where he found the recipe, Chris laughs. It’s concerning, to say the least.
Eddie sits next to him as they head back to the station, browses through pictures from Chris’ school online, trying to find his son in the background. Buck obliges him in scrutinizing each head of curls and pair of sneakers.
Chim gives a pointed look at where Buck and Eddie’s shoulders are brushing. That’s neither here nor there.
Since Eddie luckily didn’t bring up the first incident, Buck thinks he can get away with more. Almost like a game, he drops comments about life and retirement, although Bobby does give him a skeptical glance and reminds him of his young age (“It’s just a hypothetical!”).
A few weeks after the first incident, Maddie and Chim invite Buck and Eddie to brunch. Normally, Maddie and Chim have a strange brunch routine, which seems to involve going to every cafe that LA has to offer. An expensive habit, if anything is known about cafes in LA, but Buck knows that between their shifts and when Jee-Yun has school, it’s less a habit and more their daytime dates.
Buck only agreed because the place they’re at opened last week and is offering a bulk discount for groups, which is why Maddie and Chim even invited him and Eddie.
The place isn’t bad, strange at the very least. Buck isn’t sure who is eating crab legs at 11 AM, along with the many whiskey combinations listed along the side, but to each their own. He ends up switching plates with Maddie a quarter through the meal, and then switching half of his with Eddie’s, who, in turn, steals house fries off of Chim’s plate.
Chim groans at the bill when it’s placed down.
“Wish we could write these off. Jee’ll wonder why we can’t pay her car insurance, and we’ll have to say Sorry, honey, Mommy and Daddy went out to eat too many times.”
Eddie chuckles, giving Chim half the charge in cash, and says, “Don’t I know it. But the clothes alone are enough to break me.”
Buck really should not be here. He’s heard enough complaints about shoes and pants to understand the complaints, but he really is just a supplier. Jee has a lifetime supply of punny socks ready for her.
“I feel like I’m always on the spreadsheet,” Maddie chimes in.
Buck has seen the forbidden spreadsheet that Maddie mentioned. It’s also color-coded and takes a full minute to load up.
“Years of E.R. nursing didn’t warn you off that?” he asks.
Maddie laughs softly, “Says Mr. Throw-It-In-A-Box. I know your robot methods.”
“Don’t worry. When Eddie and I are married, our joint tax filings will make history.”
“You don’t even keep your bills, Buck,” Eddie responds, taking the last sip of his coffee.
“They’re digital! I don’t need to keep anything. You can file everything, and I’ll put down your charitable acts as deductibles.”
Eddie laughs, but Maddie and Chim pinch the bridges of their noses in unison. True love.
“…Buck,” Maddie says slowly.
Buck then realizes that he accidentally brought another person into the whole Buck and Eddie joke about their future thing. Even if Chim has definitely already told her, it’s not exactly optimal to watch Maddie react in real time.
Buck pushes at Maddie’s leg and whispers, “Shut up!”
At least Eddie doesn’t look away from Chim, who has buried his head in his hands and looks to be in agonizing pain. That’s a common theme among anyone who gets caught between them. They act as if they’ve never made a joke either.
“What was-”
“Oh wow! Look at the time,” Buck interrupts. “Well, it was great hanging out with you, my wonderful sister, whom I trust so much. And will talk to later. Not now.”
He rushes out the words and picks up his sweatshirt, shrugging it on and pushing in his chair. He hugs Maddie as he stands up, clasps Chim’s shoulder from across the table, and gives Eddie a not-too-subtle hurry up, you have the keys and we need to go look.
As always, Eddie understands what he’s trying to say, placing a few fives on the table for a tip before Chim whispers something to him, and he bursts out in a laugh. Buck doesn’t want to say that he’s impatiently tapping his foot, but he would much rather be in the car than watch Maddie’s eyes impossibly narrow more each second.
He half tugs Eddie away by the shoulder and to Eddie’s truck, pausing in front of the driver’s door when he remembers there’s not much else he can do.
“You alright there, Buck?” Eddie says with a smirk, casually leaning against the door.
He’s confident and looking at Buck as if he knows something that Buck doesn’t get to know.
Buck subtly glances over to where Chim and Maddie are huddled into each other and asks, “What did he tell you?”
Eddie gives an infuriating smile, similar to his easy posture and creepy eyes. Evil, large, brown eyes.
“Nothing.”
Buck rolls his eyes and holds his hands out for the keys. Even if it is obviously a lie.
“Then let’s get out of here.”
Eddie’s smile seems a lot less evil in the light. His brow is relaxed and an answer to all the sappy things that Buck thinks of. Like pushing his own forehead against it and leaning in, or reaching out and smoothing out the wrinkles that form whenever Eddie’s concerned.
Buck lets their hands brush instead.
It’s not like he’s in love with Eddie. It’s just… if the opportunity ever presented itself… who’s Buck to say no? (It’s not when because Eddie would only be able to do the superficial things. The stuff on paper. Not actually being… with Buck.)
Although Eddie sitting at his table in his kitchen laughing at something Buck just said is giving him some ideas. Ideas like leaning across the table or reaching for Eddie’s hand, or screaming something incoherent off the balcony. No, really, leaning across the table and—
“Do you ever think about having more kids?” Buck asks between bites of his sandwich.
“You mean our future three children you said we’re having after Chris?”
“He’d be a good big brother,” Buck says defensively, not that there’s a need.
Eddie smiles, “He’s wonderful with Jee.”
And that’s the purest truth there can be. Chris has been wearing a bracelet that he made with Jee, and his desk is filled with strange, bent pipe cleaners that Jee has been trying to make into animals as of late.
They’re not together often, but quality Uncle Buck time as Jee-Yun grows older means they can go to places other than his loft. And when Buck and Jee aren’t going through their list of every park in LA, they’re with Chris.
Buck hums, getting up to clean his plate, “Well, aside from that.”
Eddie laughs again, hand relaxing around his handmade mug.
“Well, our kids better take after me,” Buck says.
“Chris talked about the chemical composition of an energy drink he saw at the store for ten minutes. I think you have that covered.”
“You know what they put in there!”
It’s how they work, a quick throwaway line where the other knows exactly what is meant without further context. It’s how they’re so good on calls and at beating Chris at board games. Even if some of that just means placing cards in a stack on the open chair between them until Chris peaks and sees a full deck of twos and threes under the table.
So, whenever Eddie leans over and whispers something about guitar strings or goldfish, Buck knows exactly what he’s talking about. Although it does come with the consequence of their text exchanges becoming illegible a week after they have them.
But he doesn’t mind heavy-lidded looks and smiles that are only shared between the two of them. Or dinners where conversations about cutlery seem to have different meanings. It’s for them, that’s all that matters.
Buck wouldn’t exactly say that Chris finds out, since it’s not like he and Eddie are really hiding anything. But Chris definitely… notices that they’re talking a lot more. He hears a couple of errant “Who’s on the phone?”s from Chris when he calls Eddie a little bit too early in the mornings on their days off.
Buck’d be embarrassed. If he wasn’t shameless, of course. And if each time Chris asked, it didn’t end with him walking over and speaking with Buck for a few minutes. Although he could do without each So, what were you and dad talking about? and Buck’s awkward Nothing in reply.
Because that’s really it, they just talk. About how to avoid a situation they saw in a recent call after encountering something similar, or about what to get a coworker for their birthday, or the stupid weather. He can see why Chris is skeptical.
Chris had asked to come to a specific public garden to look at the work of an architect he was presenting about in school. Which meant that Buck dusted off his old camera and spent two hundred replacing the broken lens.
“So you look through the little window, do you see that?”
“I know how to use a camera, Buck,” Chris laughs.
Chris takes the camera and stands carefully still, tucking his head under the camera strap so he doesn’t drop it. He takes a few careful photos of the white arch in front of them and beams when Buck nods and tells him how to make sure the camera’s focused.
Eddie sees the pictures, raises his eyebrows, and says, “Take one of Buck and me?”
When Buck squints at him, he replies, “This kid is too good, gotta find his weakness.”
Which Chris, of course, hears and yells, “Hey!”
Buck laughs and walks with Eddie towards the arch, following the stone path placed in the greenery. He sees a few butterflies and even more bees lingering near the flowers surrounding the area.
“You’re taking me here for our ten-year anniversary,” Eddie says to him, unprompted, as they near the arch.
“Um. Is there something you guys need to tell me?” Chris asks, nearly shouting from the distance.
Buck elbows Eddie in the side and cheerily replies, “Nope!”
By the way that Chris squints at them from under his glasses before taking the photo, he knows that Eddie and Chris will have a conversation later. But in a somewhat selfish manner, Buck would rather not be part of that explanation. In part because he doesn’t know what Eddie thinks about the whole manner, but mostly because it would just be horribly uncomfortable.
Still, Buck stands with Eddie, smiles normally for a few seconds before switching into a horrified face, while Eddie stands clueless. Though, by the way that Chris is giggling, Eddie knows something’s up.
Eddie acts affronted when he sees the final pictures, but smiles nonetheless when he sees the first few.
“Think your school has a photography class?”
The day continues.
“Remind me to never have cats,” Buck says after a call where the hardest part was trying to get to the man barricaded by dozens of cats in his apartment.
“Buck! What happened to I’m going to adopt five cats so we can outnumber Eddie?” Eddie mocks as he slumps into a seat next to the counter, where Buck is trying to start a batch of cookies.
“Well, find me the right place first,” Buck replies, leaning against the counter and closer to Eddie.
Eddie drops his voice and dons a stupid grin, “That’s just with us.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Buck sing-songs, turning around to close the fridge.
“I beg to differ,” Eddie grumbles.
“Bobby! They’re flirting in your kitchen again,” Chimney yells when he walks up the stairs and catches the tail end of their conversation.
He yelps when Eddie throws an empty box at him and fake gags when Buck blows a kiss at him. Although Buck knows that his face is probably bright red, he can’t outwardly respond to Chim without losing his ability to speak sensibly.
It’s a comfortable routine that Buck feels lucky to be a part of. A routine that involves a suspicious amount of sushi rolls and late-night texts and too-long sentences accompanying forwarded emails about every nearby event.
Buck doesn’t expect anything to come of anything he’s doing. It seems more like an inside joke every time it progresses, and it’s not like Buck can deny that’s what’s happening.
Buck laughs off Bobby’s concerns as Chim scampers down the stairs to rat them out to Hen.
“You more of a dog guy?” Buck asks when everything’s settled back down.
“No,” Eddie replies simply, flipping over the newspaper someone left.
Buck hums and pretends the dough looks reasonable. He’s thinking of goldfish and iguanas and ferrets and cats.
Remembering that conversation is a little bittersweet after Eddie moves.
Definitely on the more sour side in the timespan where he sleeps on Maddie and Chim’s couch, but still.
He’s not alone. The feeling on his face telling him Jee was up giving him a mustache tells him enough. But it’s just different. When Chris left, he didn’t talk to anyone from LA, save his friends. With Eddie, they’re video calling all the time and texting. But there’s never a movie or a game night or dinner.
So it’s fair to say that Buck is pretty sure their weird… thing… is over. Eddie and Chris are going through a rough time, and Buck isn’t what they need. He’s fine with that, since there are so many people in LA that need his help every day.
Which is one of the reasons he’s so surprised when Eddie’s back with Chris in tow. Especially when Eddie decides to start up their thing three weeks after returning to LA.
“Which of our future kids is going to join the band? Do you think it’s too late for Chris to get piano lessons?” he asks while they’re finishing a call on a side street, watching a Homecoming procession.
Buck shoots up when he hears future and can feel a grin stretching itself across his face, as if no time had passed at all.
“It’s never too late!” Buck starts, hoping he won’t lose the thread. “With the right motivation, age shouldn’t be a deterrent.”
Eddie murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like nerd, but Buck can pretend to be normal and not instigate a fight, thank you very much, Chim, so he stands up and turns away from Eddie.
They watch the marching band procession walk by, full of high school kids turning red in the face from exertion and focus.
“I think he’d like guitar,” is what Buck says eventually.
The sun is directly above their heads, reminding Buck of the Lahaina Noon in Hawaii, where no shadows are visible. He and Eddie could stand still, even clouded by nearby buildings and friends, and there would be no dark trails behind any of them. No remnants of past relationships or bullet holes or metal screws. Just Buck and Eddie, Buck and Eddie, Buck and Eddie.
Eddie bumps his shoulder against Buck’s, a you’re thinking too much and a tell me what it’s about all at once.
“Maybe.”
Maybe we’ll teach him together.
“Yeah.”
Buck could make another million references to animals and phenomena and talk about how the light L.A. breeze is… carrying Ravi’s voice over, telling him they’re gonna ride back to the station without him if he doesn’t hurry up.
Eddie picks up their bags and asks, “Mine tonight?”
“If you order something good.”
They sit across from each other, like always, and make plans, like always.
The sun is setting, reflecting through some sun-catcher that Chris made at a school community outreach fair. Chris is on a call in his room, Eddie’s at the table sorting bills, and Buck is fixing the contents of the cabinets since there was an ant scare with a not-so-airtight container.
Buck’s humming to himself, some tune he must’ve heard on the radio since he doesn’t even know what it’s called. He hears Eddie’s drink clack against the table, and Buck’s somewhat tempted to toss a coaster at him, but he’s not sure how it’ll bode.
“When you move in,” Eddie starts. “This kitchen is gonna look a lot brighter.”
Buck quite literally drops the nice dinner plate he was placing in the upper cabinet. Luckily, it only lands with a dull clank on the counter and doesn’t shatter.
He wants to bite his lip, but he’s long since broken that habit, so he settles for blankly staring at the backsplash.
“Um. What prompted that?” Buck chuckles, trying to play off his clumsiness as he puts the plate away.
Buck’s not even sure what feels so different about that comment. They’ve been talking about the future so often that it’s second nature. He’s pretty sure that “I’m scared for when we share a bank account” has more serious connotations than what Eddie just said without any incentive.
Buck turns around and leans against the counter. Eddie laughs, probably at the very confused face Buck’s sporting. Eddie’s somewhere between five gigantic piles of paper, just looking at Buck.
“Was there something else?” Eddie asks, not unkindly.
“No,” Buck denies hastily before squinting and taking a step forward. “Actually— yes.”
He can feel his brow furrowing and further creasing when he sees Eddie’s expression turn fond.
“Don’t laugh at me,” Buck says.
Eddie smiles and shakes his head. Buck nods, but then feels too awkward just standing across the room. He sits next to Eddie, shifting the papers to the other side of the table.
Eddie does the same with the stack in front of him, giving Buck the chance to peek at the notebook Eddie was writing in. Although all the notes are a chaotic swirl of numbers that Buck doesn’t care for.
“Brighter doesn’t exactly have platonic connotations.”
Eddie really does laugh at him then.
“I don’t think that friends usually talk about what would happen if they were married.”
It makes sense, and Buck has known it since they first started doing it. And so have Maddie and Chim and any of their friends. He just hoped that Eddie didn’t, so he could keep talking about bank accounts and taxes and laundry.
“What does that mean? Don’t you—”
Eddie cuts him off by placing his hand on Buck’s shoulder, and it’s—an orchestral swell, too wide and brown eyes, every feeling he’s ever felt—warm.
“Hi,” Buck says dumbly.
“Hi,” Eddie replies.
Buck can feel his face heating up, even more so when Eddie’s face continues to melt and looks even more eager.
“You said when,” Buck says, dumbfounded.
He’s used to if, that’s their whole thing. They say maybe something will happen, like predicting the lottery or a scientific development. Not when Buck moves in and gets married and has kids.
Eddie smiles at him, open, unguarded. He doesn’t seem concerned with the line he just crossed.
He even leans closer in and lets out a little breath, exhaling as he says, “I’m kind of in love with you.”
Eddie’s eyes are too earnest and deep, so Buck laughs and ducks his head, and Eddie’s thumb rubs soft circles into his shoulder. He probably should be having a bigger reaction, but there’s no need for panic or hasty decisions when there’s no hint of malice.
“That’s good,” Buck mumbles, for a lack of anything better to say.
Eddie moves his hand and tips Buck’s head up, triggering the signal in Buck’s skin that goes hands, hands, hands.
It’s less of a click and more of an oh, yeah. I am in love with Eddie. He makes perfect sense, with his dilated pupils and smile tugging on the sides of his mouth, and the way Eddie’s socked toes are bumping against Buck’s own.
“I’m kind of in love with you, too.”
“That’s good,” Eddie mirrors with a smile.
Buck grins and feels Eddie’s hand shift around his face before sliding up and cupping his cheek. When did Eddie’s hands get this warm?
“So,” Buck laughs, “you wanna spend the rest of your life with me, don’t you?”
He’s giddy with it. With Eddie right there, in reach, and maybe all their ifs weren’t really ifs. He just wants to tease Eddie and get him to admit everything that’s between them, said and unsaid.
“Yeah,” Eddie replies simply, humoring him while keeping a deadpan face.
“What’s next? Adopting a turtle, honeymooning in Hawaii?”
Anniversaries, art galleries, farmers’ markets, and Thursday date nights. Custom ornaments, gag gifts, matching ties, and ugly sweaters.
Or—
“We could start here.”
Eddie closes the gap that’s been slowly narrowing for the past minute, clicking together the space between their fingertips in beginner hypnosis videos, magnets snapping back together. But it’s not sharp or loud, rather soft and inviting.
“That works,” Buck murmurs against Eddie’s lips.
Eddie pulls back (unfairly) to laugh. Buck opens his eyes to see sparks in Eddie’s, growing ever more so when Eddie leans back in for a quick peck.
“Dork.”
Buck’s not about to say only for you, so he settles for trading another kiss.
“Is Chris okay with this?” he has to ask, because really, Chris is in his room only a few feet away.
Eddie relaxes, “He’s had some… choice words.”
“All good, I presume?” he jokes.
“If it wasn’t, I think we’ve reached the apocalypse.”
Buck’s smile softens, and he grabs Eddie’s hand and runs his thumb over the scarred knuckles. They get softer every day and more like a space heater as well.
“I guess we have a lot of whens,” Buck says, wiggling his eyebrows.
Eddie rolls his eyes and slumps forward onto Buck’s shoulder.
“You’re lucky I love you.”
“Yeah, I am,” Buck says, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie’s head.
(When, when, when.)