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Eddie had hosted barbecue nights at the Diaz house. He’d hosted a handful of post-shift beer-and-leftovers hangs that barely qualified as hosting because everyone had grabbed their own plates and Chim had somehow ended up doing the dishes while narrating his personal tragedy of the week.
This was different.
This was their place—well, Buck’s place that had become theirs in the quiet, inevitable way everything did with Buck, like Buck just… showed up and started belonging, started folding himself into the corners of Eddie’s life until Eddie looked around one day and realized there wasn’t a “before” and “after,” there was just Buck-shaped space where Buck had always been.
And now they were about to invite everyone into it. Together.
Eddie stood in the hallway between the kitchen and living room, doing the world’s least convincing impression of a man who wasn’t vibrating with nerves. His hands kept hovering like he needed to adjust something—picture frame, throw pillows—except everything was already perfect, because Buck had been in full domestic tornado mode since noon.
On the coffee table: coasters. Coasters. In a neat stack. Eddie didn’t even know Buck owned coasters.
On the dining table: place settings that looked suspiciously like they belonged in a catalog.
In the kitchen: Buck.
Buck in an apron that said Kiss the Cook in obnoxiously cheerful letters, which Eddie had tried to argue against on principle, and Buck had countered with, “Eddie, it was literally made for this moment,” and then had kissed Eddie like it was an argument-winning strategy.
Buck moved around the kitchen with that easy confidence he got when he was good at something—and Buck was, annoyingly, unfairly good at most things. Tonight it was cooking. A sauce simmered on the stove, smelling like garlic and wine and the kind of warmth Eddie associated with holidays and being safe. A loaf of bread sat cooling on a rack, still crackling faintly. There were two desserts in play—Eddie had caught sight of a pie and something that looked like a layered chocolate situation that Buck had described as “trust me” and Eddie had learned, long ago, that “trust me” from Buck usually meant “you’re about to have a religious experience.”
Eddie leaned against the doorway and watched him for a second, which felt like a dumb thing to do because watching Buck always did this thing to Eddie’s chest. Made it hurt in a way that was almost sweet.
Buck glanced over his shoulder like he could feel Eddie’s eyes. He grinned. “You’re pacing.”
Eddie was not. “I’m not pacing.”
Buck tipped a spoon into his mouth, made an exaggerated thinking face, then pointed with it like a judge’s gavel. “Mmm. You are.”
Eddie walked into the kitchen because if he stayed in the doorway any longer, Buck was going to keep looking at him like that and Eddie was going to forget how to be a person. “I’m just… checking.”
“What are you checking?” Buck asked, tone mild, but his eyes bright like he already knew.
Eddie opened his mouth, closed it, then gestured vaguely at the air. “Everything.”
Buck laughed, the sound warm and soft. He reached out without looking, caught Eddie’s wrist as he moved past, and pulled him in until Eddie’s hip bumped the counter and Buck’s body pressed close for one second—just long enough for Buck to kiss him quickly, like a punctuation mark.
“You’re okay,” Buck murmured against his mouth.
Eddie stared at him. “I know.”
Buck lifted an eyebrow.
Eddie exhaled through his nose, betrayed by his own face. “I mean… I know, but also—”
“But also your entire family is coming over and they’re all nosy as hell,” Buck finished, like he was reading off a checklist.
Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “They’re not all—”
Buck held up a finger. “Hen.”
Eddie’s mouth twitched.
“Chimney.”
“Okay.”
“Maddie.”
Eddie made a face.
“Athena.”
Eddie didn’t even bother denying that.
Buck turned, tapped the side of his nose with the spoon like he’d solved a case. “And Karen is sweet, but she’s… sweetly nosy.”
Eddie tried to glare. It came out fond. Which was the problem. “It’s not even that. It’s just… this is the first time we’re—”
“Hosting as a couple,” Buck said softly, and his expression gentled like he understood the part Eddie was trying not to say out loud. Publicly. On purpose.
Eddie swallowed. “Yeah.”
Buck put the spoon down and turned fully toward him, leaning back against the counter with his arms loose at his sides. “Hey.”
Eddie hated how one word could make his shoulders drop could make his body unclench. “Yeah?”
“We don’t have to answer anything we don’t want to,” Buck said, calm and steady. “We can make a game out of it. Or we can—” He tilted his head. “We can redirect. Or I can talk and you can just… give them the Eddie stare.”
Eddie snorted. “My Eddie stare?”
“The one that makes probies cry.”
“I do not make probies cry.”
Buck’s grin went sharp. “Eddie.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, but the laugh slipped out anyway.
Buck reached for him again, palm settling low on Eddie’s back like it belonged there. Like it had always belonged there. “And if it gets too much, we take a second. We go into the kitchen, pretend we forgot the salad, whatever.”
Eddie let himself lean in, forehead almost touching Buck’s. “You’re too good at this.”
“At cooking?” Buck asked, faux innocent.
“At… me.”
Buck’s smile softened. “Yeah,” he said, easy. “I know.”
Eddie should’ve been annoyed. Instead, he felt something warm bloom behind his ribs. “Cocky.”
“Confident,” Buck corrected, and then he kissed Eddie again, slower this time, like he had all the time in the world.
The doorbell rang.
Eddie jerked like he’d been tased.
Buck barely moved, just smiled into the kiss like this was the funniest thing that had ever happened. “Showtime.”
Eddie stared at him, horrified. “Oh my god.”
Buck patted his cheek. “Go. I’ll get the sauce.”
Eddie went to the door like a man walking into his own execution. He opened it—and of course, it was Chim and Maddie.
Chim stood there holding a bottle of wine and Maddie held a bag that looked like it contained half a bakery. Both of them wore the exact same expression: innocent faces, eyes full of barely-contained chaos.
“Hi,” Maddie chirped.
Chim smiled too wide. “Hello, Diaz.”
Eddie’s throat went dry. “Don’t call me that.”
Chim’s smile widened. “Why not? It feels… correct.”
Maddie’s gaze slid past Eddie into the apartment like she was trying to see if there were pictures of Buck and Eddie kissing on the walls. “Wow,” she said, stepping in. “It smells amazing.”
Eddie forced his body to function. “Buck’s cooking.”
Maddie made a face like that was both obvious and deeply unfair. “Of course he is.”
Chim leaned in like he was about to share a secret. “We brought wine.”
“And dessert,” Maddie added, lifting the bag.
Eddie blinked. “Buck made dessert.”
Maddie grinned. “Yeah, well. We brought… backup dessert. In case your boyfriend overachieves and makes everyone cry.”
Eddie opened his mouth, then closed it, because that was unfortunately a possibility. Buck’s baking had, in the past, emotionally destabilized their entire shift more than once.
Chim slipped off his shoes and immediately started looking around. Not subtly. “So,” he said, tone casual in a way that was deeply not. “How’s it feel?”
Eddie’s shoulders went up. “How does what feel?”
Chim shrugged. “You know. This.”
Maddie gave Chim a look. “Chim.”
“What?” Chim demanded. “I’m just asking. It’s a big moment.”
Eddie felt heat creep up his neck. “It’s dinner.”
Maddie’s eyes sparkled. “It’s your first dinner party as… you know.”
Eddie stared at her. “As…?”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “As boyfriends.”
Eddie made a sound that was somewhere between a cough and a prayer.
Buck appeared behind Eddie with a dish towel over his shoulder, looking annoyingly calm and hot, like he hadn’t just thrown Eddie to the wolves. “Hey,” Buck said brightly. “You made it.”
Maddie’s whole face softened in that way that always got Eddie a little, because Maddie loved Buck hard, like she’d spent years not being able to and now she was making up for lost time. She stepped forward and hugged Buck tight. “We wouldn’t miss it.”
Chim clapped Buck on the shoulder with the kind of intensity you used when you were about to interrogate someone. “Smells great, Buck.”
Buck beamed. “Thanks. Eddie helped.”
Eddie whipped his head around. “I did not—”
Buck’s smile went smug. “He… emotionally supported me.”
Eddie glared. Buck winked.
Maddie’s eyes flicked between them like she was watching a tennis match. “Oh my god,” she whispered, delighted. “You're adorable.”
Eddie muttered, “It’s been like a month.”
“It’s been like 23 days,” Buck corrected.
Eddie’s heart did a stupid little leap. Of course Buck knew the exact number.
The doorbell rang again.
Eddie turned toward the door like a man offered a lifeline.
Hen and Karen came in next, and Eddie had barely said hi before Hen’s gaze swept the room, landed on Eddie and Buck standing too close together by the kitchen, and her mouth quirked.
“Look at that,” Hen said. “Our babies are nesting.”
Eddie felt his ears burn. “We are not—”
Karen smiled warmly. “This is lovely. It feels… cozy.”
Buck lit up at that like he’d been awarded a medal. “Thank you! Eddie picked the candles.”
Eddie stared. “I did not pick the candles.”
Buck leaned closer, voice low so only Eddie could hear. “You literally made me get new ones because they didn't match the couch cushions.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re about to get stabbed with a fork.”
Hen’s gaze sharpened. “Oh, we’re already doing private threats? Nice.”
Eddie’s stomach dropped. “We weren’t—”
Karen laughed. “Hen.”
Hen held up her hands. “I’m just saying. I’m proud.”
Eddie didn’t know what to do with that, so he settled for a grunt that he hoped conveyed thanks but also please stop looking at me.
They all moved into the living room as Buck went back into the kitchen, and Eddie tried to do the hosting thing—offer drinks, point out where the bathroom was, pretend he wasn’t about to crawl out of his own skin.
The doorbell rang again.
Athena walked in like she owned the place, which—Eddie supposed—she did, spiritually. She carried a bottle of something expensive and wore the kind of expression that said she already knew everything that was going to happen tonight and she was mostly here for the entertainment.
May came in behind her with a foil-covered tray and a smile that was polite in the way May’s smile always was—sweet, but sharp at the edges, like she’d grown up in a house where you learned to read rooms as survival. Harry trailed after, wearing a hoodie and looking like he’d been bribed into coming.
“Eddie,” Athena said, giving him a hug that smelled like perfume and authority. “Buck.”
Buck appeared, wiped his hands, and hugged Athena like she was family—because she was. “Athena. You look… intimidating.”
Athena smiled. “I like to make it a point.”
May handed Eddie the tray. “We brought… salad?”
Eddie blinked down at it. “You brought salad.”
May lifted her shoulders. “My mom insisted we bring something green.”
Athena said, without missing a beat, “Because I don’t trust you people to eat vegetables unless they’re disguised.”
Eddie wanted to laugh. Mostly because it was true.
Harry wandered into the living room and immediately made a beeline for the couch.
Then the doorbell rang again, and Eddie’s gut did a weird flip because he already knew who it was.
Ravi.
Ravi stood in the doorway holding a bouquet of flowers.
“Hey,” Ravi said, smiling. “Uh. Hi. I brought—” He lifted the bouquet. “These. Because… I didn’t know if you had—”
Buck’s face lit up so bright it made Eddie’s chest ache. “Ravi! Dude, that’s so thoughtful. Come in.”
Ravi stepped in, and Eddie watched his gaze flick toward May.
May was pretending she hadn’t seen him yet, which was a lie because May noticed everything. But her eyes lifted then, and her mouth curved in a way that wasn’t for anyone else. Ravi’s shoulders visibly relaxed.
Eddie’s brain, which should’ve been focused on the fact that he was hosting a dinner party for nine people, instead went: Oh. Oh, okay. That’s… adorable.
Ravi offered the flowers to Eddie like he didn’t know who the official flower person was. Eddie took them, because apparently Eddie was now the flower person.
“Thanks,” Eddie said. “This is… really nice.”
Ravi nodded quickly. “Yeah. I just—yeah.”
May cleared her throat. “Hi, Ravi.”
Ravi turned. “Hey, May.”
The air in the room shifted the way it did when someone stepped a little closer to a line they hadn’t crossed yet.
Hen saw it too. Her mouth quirked, and she said, loudly, “Okay, lovebirds, shoes off.”
May choked. “Hen.”
Ravi almost tripped taking his shoes off.
Athena’s eyes narrowed. “Henrietta.”
Hen held up her hands. “What? I meant—” She paused, then smiled wider. “I meant… literal lovebirds.”
Karen made a soft sound that was either a laugh or a cough trying to cover a laugh.
Eddie’s chest loosened a fraction. Good. If the spotlight could swing away from him and Buck for even five seconds, he’d take it.
Then Chimney clapped his hands together like a man calling a meeting. “Alright. Everyone’s here. We should—”
“We should eat,” Buck cut in, appearing with a tray of appetizers like a magician producing joy. “Because I made food and if you all start interrogating us before you eat, someone’s going to pass out and I refuse to have that on my conscience.”
Chim opened his mouth.
Maddie put a hand on his chest. “He’s right. Eat first, then we can destroy them.”
Eddie stared at her. “Maddie.”
She smiled sweetly. “What?”
Eddie looked at Buck like help me.
Buck kissed Eddie’s temple—quick, casual, like he did it all the time now (because he did), and Eddie froze in front of everyone, which was rude of Buck, honestly.
Hen’s eyebrows shot up. Karen’s eyes widened. Chim made a noise like he’d been shot. Maddie’s entire face went soft and delighted. May’s mouth fell open in a way that was both surprised and deeply pleased.
Athena just watched. Calm. Amused. Like she’d been waiting for exactly that.
Eddie’s skin went hot. He wanted to evaporate.
Buck said cheerfully, “Okay! Drinks in the living room, then dinner in fifteen.”
Chim’s eyes narrowed. “Fifteen minutes.”
Buck nodded. “Fifteen.”
Chim pointed at him. “You can’t give us fifteen minutes unsupervised with this information.”
Buck smiled like a shark. “Watch me.”
Buck disappeared back into the kitchen.
Eddie stood there with nine pairs of eyes on him.
This was his nightmare.
“Okay,” Hen said, like she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “So.”
Eddie’s stomach sank.
Karen said, gently, “We can wait.”
“No,” Maddie breathed, eyes huge, “we cannot.”
Chim leaned forward. “Who made the first move?”
Eddie’s brain did a full reboot. “What.”
“Who,” Chim repeated, louder, like Eddie was hard of hearing, “made the first move?”
May made a sound that was suspiciously like a giggle. Harry sat up a little, interested. Athena took a sip of her drink like she was settling in.
Eddie tried to find words. “That’s not—”
Hen waved a hand. “We’re not doing this slow. We’ve waited years.”
Eddie blinked. “You’ve waited years.”
Hen’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
Karen smiled. “We have.”
Eddie stared at them, betrayed. “All of you?”
Maddie’s face did this soft thing that made Eddie’s chest tighten again, because Maddie was like Buck—she loved loudly, and sometimes it felt like it filled rooms. “Eddie,” she said, “you and my brother have been in love for, like, seven years.”
Eddie choked. “We have not—”
Chim pointed at him. “Don’t lie.”
Eddie looked desperately toward the kitchen.
Buck did not return. Buck was leaving him to die.
Ravi, who looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, murmured, “I mean… I kind of thought…”
May’s head snapped toward him. “You thought?”
Ravi’s face went red. “No, I—”
May’s eyes narrowed, interested. “Ravi.”
Hen leaned forward. “Back to the question. First move. Who?”
Eddie opened his mouth, then closed it. He could lie. He could deflect. He could do the Eddie thing where he gave a tight smile and said something like it just happened and hoped they’d drop it.
They would not drop it. These people had survived plane crashes, tsunamis, lawsuits, and Chimney’s cooking. They were not going to be stopped by Eddie Diaz’s emotional constipation.
Eddie exhaled. “Buck.”
There was a beat of stunned silence. Then: chaos.
Maddie squealed. Like, actually squealed. “I knew it!”
Chim’s eyes went wide. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did,” Maddie insisted, grabbing Chim’s arm. “I told you he would be the one to—”
Chim pointed at Eddie. “Wait. Buck made the first move? Buck?”
Hen blinked. “Okay, and?”
Karen laughed softly. “That’s actually… really sweet.”
Athena’s mouth quirked. “Is it?”
Eddie swallowed. “It’s not… it’s not like he tackled me in the kitchen or anything.”
Buck’s voice drifted from the kitchen, loud enough to carry. “I could’ve!”
Eddie closed his eyes. “Buck.”
May laughed, delighted. “Oh my god, he can hear us.”
Buck’s voice again: “I have ears!”
Maddie called toward the kitchen, “When did you know you liked him?”
Buck yelled back, “I’ve always liked him!”
Chim yelled, “That’s not the question!”
Buck yelled, “IT’S MY ANSWER!”
Eddie dragged a hand over his face.
Hen leaned toward Eddie, voice dropping a notch like she was about to ask something serious but still sharp. “Okay. Fine. Buck made the first move. What was the move?”
Eddie’s stomach clenched. “No.”
Karen’s eyes widened. “Hen.”
Hen shrugged. “What? It’s relevant. This is research.”
“Research?” Eddie repeated, weakly.
Hen nodded solemnly. “Research.”
Chim leaned in. “For the record, I also need to know.”
Maddie’s eyes were sparkling. “Eddie.”
Eddie stared at them. He tried to hold the line. He really did.
And then Buck walked in with a bowl of something and looked at Eddie like he knew exactly what was happening and was enjoying it.
Eddie’s betrayal hit like a punch. “You left me.”
Buck set the bowl down and kissed Eddie’s cheek again, casual. “I had to finish the sauce.”
“You’re thriving,” Eddie muttered.
Buck grinned. “I am, actually.”
Hen pointed at Buck. “What was the move?”
Buck blinked, innocent. “What move?”
Chim’s voice went sharp. “Don’t do that.”
Maddie leaned forward like she was about to climb over the coffee table. “Buck.”
Buck looked at Eddie, eyes warm. “Do you want to tell them or should I?”
Eddie’s throat went tight because Buck’s tone wasn’t teasing now. It was careful. It was Buck checking in, like he’d promised.
Eddie swallowed. He could say no. He could pull them into the kitchen and hide. He could make a joke and deflect.
But he looked around—at Hen and Karen, relaxed and happy. At Chim and Maddie, practically vibrating with joy for them. At May, watching like she was storing the moment somewhere safe. At Harry, pretending he wasn’t listening. At Ravi, who was smiling at May. At Athena, who looked like she’d fought her way through hell to be able to sit in a living room like this with people she trusted.
This interrogation was love. Annoying, invasive, relentless love.
Eddie exhaled. “We were… talking.”
Maddie made a sound like she was going to explode. “About what?”
Eddie shot her a look. “Not everything needs details.”
Hen held up her hands. “We didn’t ask for details. We asked for the move.”
Buck’s mouth twitched. “The move was a kiss.”
Chim’s eyes went feral. “Where?”
“Chim,” Karen warned.
Chim pointed at her. “It’s important!”
Buck shrugged, like this was the most normal thing in the world. “My couch.”
Maddie squealed again. “ON THE COUCH.”
Eddie felt his face heat up. “Yes.”
Hen’s eyes narrowed. “Okay. Who leaned in first?”
Buck’s gaze slid to Eddie, softening. “Me.”
Eddie’s throat tightened again, because Buck said it like he was proud. Like it was something he’d done on purpose and he wouldn’t take back.
May clasped her hands together. “I want the details.”
Athena’s head snapped toward her. “May.”
May lifted her shoulders, unapologetic. “What? I’m invested.”
Harry muttered, “This is weird.”
Chim shot him a look. “Welcome to family.”
Ravi gave Harry a slap on the back, “You get used to it.”
May’s eyes flicked to him, and her smile softened for half a second.
Eddie caught it.
Buck must’ve seen it too, because his mouth twitched like he was filing it away for later.
Hen snapped her fingers. “Details. Give.”
Buck made a face like he was considering being dramatic. “Okay, but you’re not going to like it.”
Chim’s eyes narrowed. “Why wouldn’t we like it?”
Because it wasn’t dramatic. Because it wasn’t some grand confession in the rain or a burning building or a dramatic slow-motion run across the station.
It had been quiet. It had been Eddie on the couch after a shift, bone-tired, Buck’s knee bumping his, Buck’s shoulder warm against his. It had been Buck’s voice soft, asking if Eddie was okay, and Eddie not knowing how to answer, because the truth had been sitting in his throat for years like a stone.
Buck had looked at him like he was the only thing in the room. Like the world could burn and Buck would still be looking at Eddie, steady and sure.
And then Buck had leaned in like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he’d been waiting for permission.
Buck cleared his throat, suddenly not as cocky. “It was… late. Eddie was doing his whole ‘I’m fine’ thing.”
Eddie muttered, “I was fine.”
Buck’s eyes flicked to him, amused. “Sure. And I—” He hesitated, like he was deciding how much to share. “I asked him to stop pretending with me.”
Eddie’s chest tightened.
Maddie’s expression softened, protective and proud at the same time.
Buck went on, voice quieter. “And he looked at me like I’d… like I’d finally said something he’d been waiting to hear. So I—” He shrugged, like he wasn’t sure how to explain the gravity of it. “I kissed him.”
Hen’s eyes narrowed. “And Eddie?”
Eddie’s throat went dry. He didn’t want to talk about what he’d done, because what he’d done had been… desperate. Honest. He’d kissed Buck back like he’d been starving.
Buck answered anyway, because Buck always did when Eddie couldn’t. “Eddie kissed me back,” Buck said simply, and his smile softened into something almost reverent.
Chim leaned forward, still hungry for chaos. “Okay, okay, but—when did you realize it wasn’t just… you know.”
“Not just what?” Hen asked, deadpan.
Chim waved vaguely. “Like… best friend stuff.”
May snorted. “Best friend stuff?”
Athena’s gaze cut toward May. “May.”
May took a sip of her drink, innocent. “What?”
Buck answered Chim. “I mean… I think I always knew?”
Hen’s eyebrows climbed. “Always?”
Buck shrugged. “Maybe not in the ‘I’m going to date him’ way, but in the ‘he’s my person’ way. It just… took us a while to catch up.”
Maddie’s expression softened so much Eddie thought she might cry. “Oh my god.”
Chim pointed at Eddie. “What took you so long?"
Eddie’s stomach dropped. “Chim.”
Chim didn’t back off. “No, seriously. We’re all thinking it.”
Hen nodded. Karen nodded. May nodded. Ravi nodded.
Athena took another sip of her drink, watching Eddie like she already knew the answer.
Eddie’s throat went tight. He searched for a joke, a deflection, anything.
Buck’s hand found the small of Eddie’s back—quiet, grounding. A small reminder that he was not alone.
Eddie exhaled slowly. “Because… it was Buck.”
The room went quiet.
Chim blinked. “That’s not—”
“It is,” Eddie said, more firmly than he meant to. He swallowed, then forced himself to keep going because the silence was worse. “It was… easy to have him. As my friend. As Chris’s… as family. And if I did something—if I messed it up—” He stopped, because his voice had gone rough.
Buck’s hand pressed a little more firmly into his back.
Eddie stared at the floor, then looked up because he couldn’t hide forever. Not from them. Not tonight. “I didn’t want to lose him.”
Hen’s expression gentled, just a fraction. “Okay.”
Karen reached over and squeezed Eddie’s knee. “That’s… actually really honest.”
Chim’s mouth opened, then closed. For once, he didn’t have a joke.
Athena’s eyes stayed steady on Eddie. “Fear makes people slow,” she said, like it was a fact, not a criticism. “Doesn’t mean they didn’t want it.”
Eddie’s chest tightened. He nodded once, grateful, embarrassed, overwhelmed.
Buck leaned in and kissed Eddie’s shoulder—quick, quiet—and Eddie’s whole body calmed like it had been waiting for that.
Then Hen clapped her hands. “Alright. Emotional moment recorded. Now: first date.”
Eddie blinked, saved by Hen’s ruthlessness. “No.”
Buck laughed, tension breaking, and leaned back like he was ready for round two. “Our first date was—”
Maddie cut in immediately. “Was it romantic?”
“Was it awkward?”
“Did you hold hands?”
“Did you kiss in public?”
Harry muttered, “Please stop.”
Ravi said, “I kind of want to know the hand-holding thing.”
May’s head snapped toward him. “You want to know the hand-holding thing?”
Ravi went red. “I—no—”
Hen’s eyes flashed. “Oh, interesting.”
Athena’s gaze slid toward May again, sharp. May looked like she wanted to crawl into the wall.
Buck, thrilled, pointed at Ravi. “See? He gets it.”
Eddie stared at Buck. “Why are you encouraging them?”
Buck grinned. “Because you’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Eddie hissed, “Buck.”
Hen made a satisfied sound. “Okay. Answer.”
Buck held up his hands like he was calming a mob. “One at a time. First date: we went to that little taco place near your place.”
Eddie blinked. “That was not—”
Buck’s eyes lit up. “It was.”
“That was just dinner.”
Buck pointed at him. “We called it a date.”
Eddie opened his mouth, then closed it, because they had called it a date, and Eddie’s heart had nearly stopped when Buck had said it.
Maddie pressed a hand to her chest. “You went on a taco date.”
Chim squinted. “That’s… actually very you.”
Hen nodded. “Why am I not surprised it was tacos?”
Karen smiled. “That’s adorable.”
May leaned forward. “Okay, but did you do the thing where you both pretended it was casual but you were secretly losing your minds.”
Eddie stared at her. “May.”
May shrugged. “I’m just asking!”
Buck laughed. “Yes, May. That is exactly what happened.”
Eddie muttered, “We were not losing our minds.”
Buck’s grin went wicked. “He was losing his mind.”
Eddie glared. “You’re dead.”
Buck leaned in like he was sharing a secret with the room. “He wore cologne.”
Everyone went silent.
Eddie froze.
Chim’s eyes widened. “He wore—”
Maddie squeaked. “Eddie!”
Hen’s mouth quirked. “Oh, did he?”
Karen’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s sweet.”
Athena’s gaze went sharp and knowing. “Mhm.”
Harry looked physically uncomfortable. “Why do you all care so much?”
Chim pointed at him. “Because this is growth.”
Eddie’s face burned. “It was one time.”
Buck’s eyes sparkled. “It was two times.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. “Buck.”
Buck shrugged, unrepentant. “You smelled nice.”
Eddie wanted to disappear.
Hen leaned back, satisfied. “Okay. First kiss was on the couch. The first date was tacos. Now: what was the moment you realized, like, oh, we’re doing this for real.”
Eddie swallowed.
Buck answered easily, because Buck was built for vulnerability like it was oxygen. “When Eddie said yes.”
Eddie blinked. “That’s—”
Buck’s gaze softened as it landed on Eddie. “It is.”
Maddie’s eyes filled. “Stop.”
Chim, apparently emotional now, tried to cover it with aggression. “Okay, okay, but—who said it first?”
Hen turned toward him. “What?”
Chim blinked. “You know.”
Karen’s mouth twitched. “Chimney, don’t.”
Chim leaned in anyway. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”
Eddie’s heart stopped.
Buck’s eyebrows shot up. Maddie’s mouth fell open. May made a noise. Ravi froze like a deer.
Athena’s gaze sharpened into something dangerous.
Hen’s voice went low. “Chim.”
Chim realized what he’d done about two seconds too late. “What? It’s a normal question.”
Karen reached over and flicked Chim’s ear. “It’s not a dinner party question.”
Chim yelped. “Ow!”
Eddie stared at the floor, throat tight. That was… too much. That was the line. The thing he didn’t want to put on the table like a centerpiece.
Buck’s hand found his, fingers threading through like it was instinct now.
Eddie squeezed once, just to prove he was still breathing.
Buck cleared his throat. “We’re not—” He paused, then looked at Eddie, careful. “Do you want to answer that?”
Eddie swallowed. The room felt too loud and too quiet at the same time. Everyone was watching, but not in a cruel way. In a we love you way, which somehow made it harder.
Eddie took a breath. “We… haven’t.”
Chim blinked. “You haven’t—”
Maddie’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Hen nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Karen’s expression stayed warm, nonjudgmental. “That’s fine.”
Athena’s gaze softened—just barely. “That’s your business.”
Buck squeezed Eddie’s hand. Eddie squeezed back.
Chim, who could not stop himself, blurted, “But you’re obviously in love.”
Everyone stared at him.
Chim frowned. “What? You are.”
Hen exhaled. “Chim.”
Chim pointed at Eddie and Buck, like he was presenting evidence in court. “Look at them!”
Eddie wanted to argue. He didn’t. Because the truth was… sitting there. In Buck’s hand around his. In the way Buck kept checking his face, making sure he was okay.
Eddie cleared his throat. “We’re—” He stopped, because the word fine was a lie. The word good felt too small.
Buck’s thumb rubbed over Eddie’s knuckles, slow. Grounding.
Eddie looked up and met Buck’s eyes.
He looked back at the room and forced himself to speak, because if he didn’t, he was going to swallow this feeling down like he always did until it choked him.
“We’re… happy,” Eddie said, voice rough. “That’s—” He swallowed. “That’s the part that matters.”
Then Maddie smiled through watery eyes. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It does.”
Hen nodded once, like she respected the hell out of that answer. Karen’s hand squeezed Eddie’s knee again.
Athena’s gaze stayed steady. “Good,” she said, simple.
And then, like the universe couldn’t let sincerity exist for more than ten seconds, Harry muttered, “Can we eat now?”
Buck laughed, grateful. “Yes. Please. Save me.”
Dinner was, predictably, a whole event.
Buck’s cooking was… unfair. It always had been. Eddie watched Chim take a bite of the main dish and go silent like he’d seen God. Maddie made a happy noise and immediately demanded the recipe. Hen ate like she was evaluating a job performance—one bite, thoughtful pause, then a nod that made Buck practically glow. Karen complimented the seasoning. May asked if Buck would teach her how to make the bread. Ravi, when Buck asked if he liked it, went bright and earnest and said, “This is amazing, Buck.”
Eddie watched Buck soak in the compliments with that open, hungry joy he had—like he’d spent so much of his life wanting to be wanted, and now he had it, and he still couldn’t quite believe it was real.
And then, because they couldn’t help themselves, the questions came back.
They came in waves—between bites, over clinking glasses, while Buck served seconds and Eddie refilled water and tried not to combust.
“So,” Maddie said, casual like she wasn’t about to commit violence, “who freaked out more after the first kiss?”
“Eddie,” Chim said immediately.
Eddie shot him a look. “How would you know?”
Chim gestured. “Because it’s you.”
Buck laughed. “It was me, actually.”
Eddie blinked. “It was you?”
Buck nodded. “Yeah. I kissed you and then I thought I’d ruined everything and I—” He paused, grinning sheepishly. “I talked for, like, ten minutes straight.”
Hen’s eyes widened. “Oh my god.”
Karen laughed. “That’s so Buck.”
Maddie’s face softened. “Oh, honey.”
Eddie’s chest warmed. “He did,” Eddie admitted, and he hated that his voice went fond. “He was—” He searched for the right word. “Panicking.”
Buck pointed his fork at Eddie. “You were also panicking.”
Eddie stared. “I was—”
Buck’s eyes went smug. “You tried to stand up and leave.”
Eddie’s stomach dropped. “I did not try to leave. I tried to—”
“Escape,” Hen supplied helpfully.
Eddie glared. “I tried to… get air.”
Chim laughed. “Sure.”
May leaned in, delighted. “Did Buck stop you?”
Buck nodded. “Yes.”
Eddie’s throat tightened. He stared at his plate.
Eddie cleared his throat, too loud. “Eat your food.”
Hen’s mouth quirked. “We are. We’re just also eating this up.”
Athena murmured, “Hen.”
Hen smiled innocently. “What? It’s cute.”
Eddie took a sip of his pinot gris like it was going to save his life.
Across the table, he caught May’s gaze flicking toward Ravi again. Ravi was listening to the conversation, smiling politely, but every so often his eyes would drift to May like he couldn’t help it. May tried to pretend she didn’t notice, but her mouth kept doing that little soft curve.
Buck leaned toward Eddie and murmured, “You’re smiling.”
Eddie blinked. “I’m not.”
Buck’s grin went sharp. “You are.”
Eddie muttered, “Stop looking at me.”
Buck’s hand slid under the table and squeezed Eddie’s thigh. Eddie’s whole body went still for half a second, heat blooming. He shot Buck a look that should’ve been a warning.
Buck looked delighted.
Eddie hated him.
Eddie loved him.
Chim suddenly slapped the table. “Okay. Next question.”
Eddie’s soul tried to leave again.
Chim pointed between them. “Who said ‘boyfriend’ first?”
Eddie blinked. “What?”
Maddie’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, yes.”
Hen leaned back, satisfied. “That’s a good one.”
Karen smiled. “I want to know.”
Athena took a slow sip of her drink. “Mhm.”
Harry sighed. “I hate all of you.”
May laughed. “No, you don’t.”
Harry muttered, “I do.”
Buck answered Chim. “Eddie did.”
Eddie choked. “I did not.”
Buck’s eyes sparkled. “You did.”
Eddie stared at Buck, betrayed. “When.”
Buck tilted his head. “When you called me your boyfriend to Chris.”
The table went quiet.
Eddie froze.
That was Eddie in the kitchen at home, still reeling, still not sure how to do this without breaking something, and Christopher in the doorway with his too-knowing eyes, asking, “Are you and Buck… like… together?”
And Eddie, heart in his throat, saying softly, “Yeah. He’s… my boyfriend.”
Christopher’s smile had been so huge Eddie thought it might split his face.
Eddie’s throat went tight now just thinking about it.
Eddie cleared his throat, rough. “He asked.”
Buck’s voice was gentle. “And you answered.”
Eddie stared at his plate, then forced himself to look up. “It… felt right.”
There was a moment where everyone just sat in silence.
Then Chim ruined it by saying, “Okay, but did Chris say ‘finally.’?”
Eddie’s laugh burst out, helpless. “He did.”
Hen shook her head. “That kid is too smart.”
Karen smiled. “He gets it.”
Athena’s gaze flicked toward Eddie. “Christopher’s always had good instincts,” she said, which was one of the nicest things Athena Grant could say about anyone.
Eddie’s chest tightened. He nodded once, grateful.
The questions kept coming.
They asked about first couple fight (Buck said it was about Eddie leaving his shoes in the hallway; Eddie said it was about Buck reorganizing the pantry; everyone agreed that was the most domesticated argument they’d ever had). They asked about who slept where the first night they decided they were “dating” (Eddie refused to answer; Buck said “we both slept terribly”; Hen said “cowards”; Karen laughed). They asked about who was worse at texting now that they were together (Buck said Eddie; Eddie said Buck; Maddie said, “It’s both of you, you’re both bad.”)
At some point, it swung toward May and Ravi.
It happened when Hen, with the ruthless precision of a predator, said, “So, Ravi. Are you seeing anyone?”
Ravi choked on his drink.
May made a sound like she’d been personally attacked. “Hen!”
Hen smiled sweetly. “What? I’m asking.”
Ravi coughed. “Uh—no. I mean. Not—”
May’s face went red. “Why are we asking Ravi that?”
Karen’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Maddie’s gaze snapped between May and Ravi, delighted. “Oh my god.”
Chim leaned forward like he could smell gossip. “Ohhh.”
Harry muttered, “Oh, this is better.”
Athena’s gaze went sharp, maternal, protective. “May.”
May sat up straighter. “What.”
Athena’s tone was calm but dangerous. “Why are you red?”
May’s mouth opened, closed. “I’m not.”
Hen hummed. “Sure.”
Ravi looked like he was going to pass away. “I’m not… seeing anyone,” he managed, voice too high. “I’m just… busy.”
May’s eyes flicked to him, then away. “Yeah. Busy.”
Buck grinned. “Busy with what, Ravi?”
Ravi blinked. “Work.”
May snorted.
Ravi’s head snapped toward her. “Not—like—work work, just—”
Hen leaned in, delighted. “May, you got something you want to tell the class?”
May groaned. “No.”
Chim pointed at Eddie and Buck. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you two redirecting onto them?”
Eddie had never loved Chim less and more in the same second. He lifted his shoulders, innocent. “We’re just eating dinner.”
Maddie laughed. “Eddie.”
Karen smiled warmly at May. “It’s okay.”
May’s face softened for a beat, then she rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to say.”
Hen nodded like she accepted that. Then she said, “Okay. So you two aren’t… dating?”
May choked. “No.”
Ravi blurted, “No.”
They said it at the exact same time.
The table went silent.
Then Buck said, quietly, “Wow.”
Chim let out a long, satisfied “Oooooh.”
Maddie slapped Chim’s arm. “Stop.”
Chim grinned. “No.”
Athena’s gaze narrowed into a warning glare aimed squarely at Ravi. Ravi went pale.
Eddie watched it all with a mix of amusement and sympathy because, yeah. He remembered what it felt like to be looked at by this family when they decided you belonged to each other.
May’s voice went sharp. “Can we please go back to Buck and Eddie.”
Eddie stared at her. “No.”
May blinked. “What.”
Eddie leaned back, suddenly feeling about ten years calmer. “You redirected onto us for ten minutes. It’s your turn.”
May’s jaw dropped. “Eddie!”
Eddie’s mouth quirked. “Don’t ‘Eddie’ me. I learned from the best.”
Buck’s hand squeezed Eddie’s thigh under the table like he was proud.
Hen made a satisfied sound. “Oh, I love this.”
Karen laughed. “Eddie.”
Athena’s gaze flicked between May and Ravi like a guard dog assessing a threat. “Ravi,” she said, very calmly, “you treat my daughter right.”
Ravi’s eyes went huge. “Yes, ma’am.”
May’s face went nuclear. “Mom!”
Athena lifted an eyebrow. “What? We’re having a conversation.”
May hissed, “We are not having that conversation here.”
Chim leaned forward like a man about to die happy. “So you’re saying there’s a conversation to have.”
May groaned and dropped her head on the table.
Ravi looked like he wanted to join her.
Eddie caught Buck’s eye, and Buck’s grin was pure, delighted evil.
Eddie loved him so much it was stupid.
Dessert saved them—kind of.
Buck brought out the pie and the chocolate layered thing like he was presenting trophies. Everyone made noises that bordered on obscene, which was alarming. Chim actually moaned, which Eddie chose to ignore for his own sanity.
As they ate, the interrogation mellowed into something less aggressive and more… soft. The kind of post-meal warmth where people leaned back and told stories and let the night stretch.
And that was when Maddie, quietly, asked the question Eddie had been dreading in a different way than all the others.
She looked at Eddie—not teasing, not hungry for gossip. Love in human form.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly. “With… all of this.”
Eddie’s throat went tight because he knew what she meant. Not the dinner party. Not the questions.
Being seen. Being loved out loud. Letting people witness something he’d held close for so long.
Eddie looked down at his plate. Then he looked up at Buck, who was talking animatedly with Karen about whether you could put cinnamon in everything (Buck said yes; Karen said “within reason”; Buck said, “no, everything”).
Buck glanced at Eddie mid-sentence and immediately softened, like he’d felt the shift. He reached out and brushed his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles—quiet, steady.
Eddie looked back at Maddie. Around the table: Hen watching him with that steady, no-bullshit care. Karen smiling gently. Chim pretending he wasn’t listening but absolutely listening.
Eddie exhaled. “Yeah,” he said, voice low. “I… I’m okay.”
Maddie’s eyes stayed on him, patient. “You sure.”
Eddie swallowed. The truth was complicated. The truth was that he was overwhelmed and embarrassed and his privacy felt like it had been ripped open and examined under bright lights.
And also—the truth was that he’d never felt safer.
Eddie nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, more firmly. “It’s… a lot. But—” He glanced at Buck again, warmth blooming in his chest. “It’s good.”
Maddie smiled, eyes shining. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is.”
Hen, from the other end of the table, lifted her glass. “To Eddie finally letting himself be happy.”
Eddie’s heart stuttered. “Hen.”
Hen’s gaze stayed steady, not teasing. “What? It’s true.”
Karen lifted her glass too. “To happiness.”
Chim lifted his glass. “To finally.”
Buck lifted his glass, eyes on Eddie, voice soft. “To us.”
Eddie felt his throat tighten in a way that could’ve been panic, could’ve been joy, could’ve been both. He lifted his glass because what else could he do. He looked at Buck, and Buck’s smile was warm and sure and here.
Eddie’s voice came out rough. “To us,” he echoed.
Glasses clinked. The sound was small and bright, like a bell.
Later—when people were gathering coats, when Karen was wrapping leftover pie like it was treasure, when Chim was trying to convince Buck to cater every event for the rest of his life, when Hen was herding everyone with efficient authority—Eddie found himself standing near the couch, watching Ravi hover awkwardly near May like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
May, half-asleep, blinked up at Ravi. “You’re… leaving?”
Ravi nodded quickly. “Yeah. I mean. Unless—”
May pushed herself up, hair messy, eyes soft. “Walk me to the car?”
Ravi’s whole face lit up. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Athena’s gaze sharpened. Ravi saw it. Ravi visibly swallowed.
Eddie, because he couldn’t help himself, murmured toward Athena, “He’s a good kid.”
Athena’s eyes flicked to Eddie. “So is May.”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”
Athena’s mouth quirked. “I’ll be watching.”
Eddie huffed a laugh. “Obviously.”
Buck slipped up behind Eddie and wrapped an arm around his waist, chin dropping onto Eddie’s shoulder like he belonged there. “What are we watching?”
Eddie leaned back into him, warmth spreading. “May and Ravi.”
Buck hummed. “Ohhh. Yeah.”
Eddie watched Ravi and May head for the door—close, not quite touching, like they were learning the shape of each other’s space.
Eddie’s chest did that soft ache again. The beginning of something. The terrifying, thrilling part where everything could change.
Buck kissed the side of Eddie’s head, gentle. “You did good.”
Eddie snorted. “I survived.”
Eddie turned his head, looked at Buck—really looked. The way Buck’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. The way his hair was slightly messy from cooking all day. The way he looked happy. Eddie’s throat tightened.
This was the part that would’ve scared him before. Saying things out loud. Letting them exist in the open.
But the house was warm. The night had been chaos and laughter and too many questions and a whole lot of love.
And Buck was here.
Eddie’s voice came out low. “Hey.”
Buck’s smile softened. “Yeah?”
Eddie swallowed, then said it—like stepping off a ledge and realizing there was ground under his feet the whole time.
“I love you,” Eddie said, rough and quiet.
Buck went still, like the sound had settled somewhere deep in his chest before it reached his ears. His eyes softened, a little glassy, like he hadn’t known how badly he’d needed to hear it until it was already his.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just lifted his hand, cheek brushing slow over Eddie’s knuckles, like he was anchoring himself.
Then Buck smiled. “I love you too,” he said quietly.
Eddie nodded once, breath catching just a little, and leaned in until their foreheads touched and Buck held him close.