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Eddie had a complicated relationship with the kitchen.
He hated the kitchen in his home growing up. Or maybe hate is a strong word. He had some good memories, like cooking with his sisters when his mom was out and his dad was on yet another business trip. If you ignored the circumstances that led to him having to worry about feeding his sisters, it wasn’t all that bad of a memory to have.
Adriana and Sofia loved to sit on the floor of the kitchen, staring up at a young Eddie, begging him to tell them stories while he tried to make them something edible.
He would go on these long, distracted tangents about princesses and kingdoms and monster-slaying princes. A lot of the time it made no sense, but they always loved whatever story he told and begged for more.
It made Eddie feel warm. Needed in a way that still let him feel like a child.
It’s just that those memories are intertwined with the aftermath. Burning the eggs, the smoke alarm going off, his mom having to come home to the fire department and a smoke-filled kitchen.
Eddie had good memories of his Abuelas kitchen and of his Tia Pepas. Their kitchens were always bathed in warmth and laughter. No one was ever worried about burning something or messing up. They would sing and dance around, making elaborate meals for everyone with smiles on their faces.
Eddie really loved being around that.
His kitchen in his LA house, though, has to be one of his favorite and least favorite places in the world.
When he and Chris first moved in all those years ago it really was nothing more than another room. He tried his best to remain unattached, see it as a place to make meals for his son and nothing more. There was no reason to make this room into anything more than it was.
Then Evan Buckley enters his life, and he is completely fucked.
With Buck, the kitchen became something new. It became a place where he, his son, and his best friend made dinners together and fun, elaborate desserts. Laughter and light, sometimes music if the situation called for it.
It also became the place for… cutting yourself open and laying your whole soul bare. That time after he put holes in his walls. Or the time after he fled the 118 in a deranged panic. Or when Buck showed up after the lightning. The Kim conversation. I’m worried about you. The fight after Bobby’s death.
Evan Buckley and his kitchen. It was a complicated relationship.
Eddie woke up to the smell of something burning. The smell seemed to cover his entire being, crawling inside of him and making his stomach turn. His heart raced and he shot up out of bed, still half asleep, racing to find the source.
His mind went through every possible scenario. There could be a fire, maybe it spread throughout the house, maybe it was coming from a neighbor's home, maybe it was coming from Chris’ room. He didn’t hear anything, no tell-tale sign of a crackling flame. He also didn’t think the temperature of the house seemed any different.
The house in general seemed fine, quiet almost, as he ran through checking every room in a blind panic. He finally got to the kitchen, and was hit with a giant wave of the smell the second he got close enough. Okay, so maybe Buck just started a mini fire while he was cooking right? Buck was a firefighter, this was fine.
He banged open the kitchen door and was greeted with…a completely normal kitchen. No sign of fire, nothing looked like it had been singed. It didn’t even look like water was used to douse an unruly flame.
Buck stood by the back door, waving a towel at nothing while Chris stood at the kitchen counter, his nose scrunched up from the smell. Buck caught Eddie standing at the door and gave him a goofy smile.
“Sorry about that smell,” he grinned, throwing a quick wink at Chris, “I was teaching Chris how to make eggs and he accidentally burned them.”
Chris laughed, a loud, unashamed one that Eddie hadn’t heard since Chris entered his teenage years.
His brain went offline for a minute. Chris burned the eggs, everyone is okay, no one is hurt. They are laughing. The eggs were burned and no one is being yelled at, no blame is being placed. They are full of joy.
A weight lifts off Eddie’s chest at the sight of Buck and Chris laughing in the kitchen, the smell of smoke still so strong, Bucks wafting doing absolutely nothing. He thinks he’s been carrying that weight around since he was a kid.
He watches as Buck just grabs the carton of eggs from the fridge and brings them over to Chris.
“Okay, round two!” he announces, presenting the carton to Chris like it’s something precious. Chris giggles before reaching out to grab an egg.
Eddie watches this entire interaction with a smile on his face, a warm feeling spreading throughout his entire body.
His kid didn’t even consider that he would be in trouble for a simple mistake. There was no worry, no raised voices. Only laughter and a second attempt.
Chris would never have to feel like Eddie did.
Out of everything he’s done wrong in his life, he knows he got this one thing perfectly, beautifully right. And he had some help in the form of a 6’2 giant with a mop of curls and so much love to give that it was bursting out of him.
Their home is warm. Smoke scented, but warm.
“How do you want your eggs, Eddie?” Buck smiles at him, shaking the carton in direction.
Eddie just laughs, “surprise me.”
“Alright, scrambled eggs. Let's do this!” Buck says to Chris, before diving back into cooking.
Eddie headed towards the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup. He peeked over to see if Buck needed one as well, but spotted a half-drunk mug in their workspace. He took his cup and sat down at the kitchen table, content to just watch as they made the eggs.
“Alright, now the cheese,” Buck instructs, watching over Chris’ shoulder as he puts everything into the bowl.
That’s how the rest of the time passes. Buck giving quiet instructions to Chris, and Chris following them. Eddie sips his coffee and just watches, making no effort to wipe the smile that has been permanently on his face since he walked in.
If you told Eddie a few months ago that life could feel like this, could be this beautiful and simple and easy, he would’ve laughed until he cried. Or maybe had another breakdown. Never, ever would he have believed it.
But this is it. This is the life he gets, the one he fought so hard for. He has his son back, his amazing son who’s being raised with love and joy in every corner. He has his best friend with him everyday, a best friend who does everything in his power to just… be there.
If he could spend the rest of his life just like this, he thinks he would die happy. They didn’t need anyone else, didn’t need to worry about the world outside of them.
And okay maybe Buck was more than a best friend. He watches as Buck whoops when Chris successfully finishes making the food, no smoke and burns this time, and starts raving about how he can plate it fancy if he wants, and oh. Maybe he was so much more. Maybe, maybe Eddie has been ignoring something for way too long.
Chris walks off to go use the bathroom before they have breakfast, leaving just Eddie and Buck in the kitchen alone. Buck is collecting all the dirty plates and loading them into the dishwasher. Eddie watches in a haze.
Where are you?
Right in front of you.
How long has this been building? How long has Eddie been so pathetically unaware that he was in love with his best friend? His future, his real one with light and love and smoke filled kitchens, has been here. All he has to do is be brave enough to reach out and grab it.
“I love you,” slips out before he can stop it. His heart eases.
Buck stutters in his cleaning before slowly turning around to face Eddie.
“What?” He asks, his face bright red and his eyes comically large.
“I love you,” Eddie repeats. In for a penny and all that.
“You love me?” Buck parrots back.
Eddie smiles wider, somehow. “Yes,” he says.
Buck’s face does something funny as he processes what Eddie just said. Eddie, deciding that eight years has been more than long enough, gets up from his chair and walks towards Buck, wanting to speed the processing along.
He gently removes the towel Buck had in his hand and sets it on the counter behind him. Then, carefully, as though he was handling something precious, which in a way he was, he takes Buck’s face in his hands.
“I love you,” Eddie whispers, before pulling Buck in for a gentle kiss. It’s soft. He tastes like coffee. He tastes like everything Eddie has been waiting for.
“Oh,” Buck whispers once they break apart, “I love you. God, Eddie. I love you.”
Eddie knew, somewhere deep in him. Of course he did, they were Buck and Eddie. They love each other.
“Can we have breakfast now,” Chris interrupts, and Eddie turns away from Buck to see his son standing in the doorway, a poorly hidden smile on his face.
“Yeah we can, gotta taste how good a job you did,” Buck answers easily, turning to grab the plate of eggs and bringing them to the table.
They all sit and have a breakfast complete with praises for Chris’ cooking and discussions about what they were going to try and make next. Buck had an entire cookbook from Bobby that he seemed eager to get through and teach to Chris. That makes his throat tighten a bit, but he was happy they had something left of him. Something to keep him alive.
It makes sense that all of this should happen in the kitchen. All their big things tend to.
With the warm morning light bathing the entire room in a glow that makes it feel reborn, Eddie thinks that maybe he likes the kitchen. He likes it a lot. Maybe even loves it.