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So, the auction was kind of a success. Ravi scored a date with a gorgeous woman; the bids on Harry were outrageous. It made the disappointment of not being picked a little more tolerable for Buck. He knew he was being irrational —they were randomly selected for the auction— but he hoped for some action after that married couple fiasco. And seeing young men like Ravi and Harry under the spotlight, it made him want to be chosen too. No, instead, he had to organize the venue. Choosing flower arrangements, what to put on the walls and a color for the carpets. He liked it. It was great. Not the best, but not horrible. He wasn't as lucky as Eddie who was in charge of the buffet and went crazy trying to find something everyone could eat —no gluten, no peanuts, no meat. He managed. The food was good. And no, his opinion had nothing to do with Eddie's huge smile and pink apple cheeks when he asked him about the taste of the bite he had just taken.
Anyway, the whole event was a success. The after-party should be a blast. Lights turned off, strobes on, alcohol flowing around. Organizing the fundraiser was exhausting; time to celebrate. Hen was munching on a cracker while talking to Karen and Maddie. May was snorting into her drink, laughing at Ravi alongside Harry. Eddie was filming Chimney's attempt at breakdancing. Buck watched them all with a tiny smile, nodding at Athena, who was complaining about an intervention with a drunk driver. So yeah, the after-party was a success too. Guests were dancing. His family was having fun. Buck was, indeed, having a blast.
Until Chimney dragged him onto the dance floor.
Listen, Buck loved dancing. In the privacy of his own home, in his kitchen while cooking, with absolutely no one in sight. Or, when he had too many drinks. And it wasn't the case right now.
So, he was shifting awkwardly from one foot to another and surely not keeping up with the rhythm of the current pop song coming out of the speakers. Buck admired Chimney's confidence for a minute before he saw him disappear into the crowd as Maddie grabbed his arm to catch his attention. He attempted to follow them but he was pushed farther away by people. They should've limited the after-party to staff only.
Nice. He was now alone and unable to get back to his friends. On the dance floor. With bodies grinding around him. Because, of course, reggaeton had to come next on the playlist.
Buck was ready to clear everyone out when he felt someone slide their arms around his waist from behind. Strong arms. Oh.Their body pressed against him in scorching heat and his knees nearly gave out when he felt their breath at his neck. Hold on. Maybe luck was catching up to him.
"You should move your hips more," Eddie said in his ear.
Maybe not.
Eddie released his grip and adeptly positioned himself in front of him with a sly smile.
"Easy to say when you're a former ballroom dance champion," Buck mumbled above the music.
"And Latino."
"Mi gente latino."
"Latina."
"That's— anyway. Help me instead of making fun of my white-boy skills," Buck said, ignoring Eddie's lack of internet memes knowledge —he wondered if he had the same facial expression every time Chris would show him a TikTok.
"Okay. What do you want to do?"
"Dance?" Buck answered, frowning his brows.
"What type?" Eddie smiled, showing his canine.
"I don't know! I just— show me anything."
Eddie took both of his hands in his and wiggled them around.
Yes. Okay. Buck could follow. Easy. Eddie was practically doing it on his own. If only heat would stop radiating from Eddie's palms, maybe Buck would be more concentrated.
"Now, your legs," Eddie instructed, making him mirror his feet movements.
One step forward, one step backward. Easy. Okay. One step forward, one step backward. One step forward, one step forward— oh God, no.
"Sorry!" Buck shouted at Eddie's wince.
"It's okay. Keep going."
Buck was still moving awkwardly but at least he was attuned to the rhythm. When the song faded to another, and their steps were faster, Buck could follow them easily.
"That's good, Buck. Now, move your hips."
"I don't know how to," he confessed, shyly.
"Let me— can I ?" Eddie asked, letting a sweaty hand fall to Buck's side.
"Y—yeah, 'course," Buck responded with a shaky breath.
"Put your hand on my shoulder," Eddie advised, seeing it hang in the air by its own.
Buck's body was vibrating. He should dance more often. The pressure on his hips was electrifying. Eddie's shoulder was solid and warm. The hand still in his was grounding. The tug at his chest was pleasant. Yeah, Buck loved dancing, he decided.
"There you go," Eddie said, eyes bright and shiny.
Buck absolutely loved dancing. Dancing was his passion, dancing was—
Why was Eddie getting closer and closer? He was almost— oh, he was.
Fully against him. Moving their hips. In sync. Eddie's arm was fully encircling his back now. He could feel the sweat of his cheek against his neck and smell his cologne— good cologne. Was he expecting to find someone tonight? Chris asked him, the last time he saw him, about a pretty woman that was working with them named Alex. The therapist. Did Eddie expect her to come to the auction?
"You're good at this," Eddie whispered, loud enough for Buck to hear, before putting a bit of space between them.
"Learned from the best."
Eddie seemed to want to say something but refrained himself at the last second, nodding instead. He let go of Buck's hip and took his hand again. They danced more freely —at a respectable distance, thank you very much— laughing at Buck's clumsiness. Buck tried to lead for a bit but the results were unsuccessful, judging from Eddie's giggles.
As the music changed, duos were everywhere. Fewer people on the dance floor, less frantic rhythm. Flashes stopped, colors from the strobes changing slowly.
"Salsa," Eddie announced, as trumpets erupted from the speakers. "You're prepared."
"What?" Buck said, sending a 'please help me' signal from afar to Maddie who simply shrugged, as Hen and Chimney erupted in laughter. He couldn't hear them, but he sure as hell saw them.
"Just follow me. Don't look at them."
And okay, yes. Simple. Move the arms, shake the hips, follow Eddie's steps. Buck could actually keep up. More than keep up, even; they might actually look good at this.
And wow— Eddie took his hand and twirled him in a smooth and effortless motion. So smooth, Buck barely registered it until the world stopped spinning and he faced Eddie again.
He did it again, and again, until Buck was so used to it that he was able to anticipate Eddie's movements.
Now, Buck was absolutely sure that they were killing it. Eddie's smile was so big that Buck couldn't pretend the flutter in his heart was just from their fiery salsa.
Eddie came closer, like he had before, but held eye contact this time. Buck couldn't look away. They were breathless. Buck swore he had never felt so alive before.
Eddie was mouthing the Spanish lyrics along to the song with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Tú me enseñaste a querer. Me enseñaste a bailar."
The song came to an end. Buck tried to not let his disappointment transpire on his face when he realized that the next song was more energetic, flashes back on with EDM and screams pounding in his ears.
"Buck. That was amazing," Eddie said, still smiling and flushed.
And. He was right. That was amazing. Buck didn't know he was capable of doing that. As a guy, he was always expected to lead. At prom, he hadn't made it through one song before his date stormed out, her new shoes ruined by Buck's big, graceless feet. Buck never knew what to do, how to move. At nightclubs, his go-to dance move was jumping around like a maniac. So, leading someone? Leading them to ridicule, maybe.
Eddie showed him what to do, how to do it, and led him without mocking him in the slightest. Buck was grateful to Eddie. As a straight man, leading another man —a queer man, without being embarrassed? That was pretty cool. Eddie was pretty damn cool.
"You're amazing," Buck said, forgetting to filter his thoughts. "You're the best friend I've ever had," he continued, smiling earnestly.
Eddie smiled back, but Buck saw that something was bothering him. Did he go too far? He should apologize, he should—
"I don't want to be your friend anymore," Eddie finally said, jaw tensed and pupils trembling.
Wow. Okay. Yeah, he should apologize right now.
"Eddie—"
"No, no, wait," Eddie exhaled with knitted brows and two fingers pinching his nose bridge. "I didn't mean it like that."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't wanna be just your friend. I wanna be more," he said, gulping so loud that Buck could practically hear it through the music.
"Eddie," Buck answered, an easy grin on his face, "of course you're more than just a friend."
"Yeah?"
Buck nodded. Eddie seemed to be lighter than he'd ever been. He puffed and took Buck's shoulders.
"I love you," he said, like he'd waited all his life for it.
"Love you too, bud," Buck said, head turned slightly.
And then Eddie— he— approached Buck's face with closed eyes ?
"What are you doing?" Buck shouted, pulling his head back, cheeks so red people would probably mistake him for a tomato.
"Kissing you?" Eddie bit back, bewildered.
"Kissing—? Me?" Buck continued, eyes wide as saucers.
"Buck? Are you alright?" Eddie said, seeming really worried.
"I should be the one asking this question!"
Was there a ritual that Buck was unaware of? Something you had to do with your salsa partner after a good dance?
"Do you want to kiss me?" Eddie asked. Buck almost choked. Before he could stutter an answer, Eddie continued, "Because I want to kiss you."
"You— what?"
"So? Yes or no?" Eddie insisted, an eyebrow raised.
"Eddie, I can't kiss you," Buck confessed, with big blue eyes.
"Why?"
"Because. It would mean something else for me," he said, trying to contain his tears.
"Something... Platonic?" Eddie tried, more confused by the second.
"No, that's the point. It would mean something else— something not platonic."
"Like... You would like it too much if we kiss right now?" Eddie whispered, close enough for Buck to hear, eyes locked on Buck's lips, transfixed.
"Exactly."
Buck was bracing for impact; the moment when Eddie would realize the implications.
He had ruined everything. If Eddie never wanted to speak to him again, he would understand. He'd never thought about telling Eddie his feelings. He'd never even dared to form them into existence. He'd wanted to keep them at bay as long as possible because he knew—
"What's the issue, then?" Eddie said, lost, breath ghosting over Buck's mouth.
"The issue is— I'm in love with you, Eddie."
There it was. No take backs.
"I'm in love with you too," Eddie smirked, "as I already told you earlier."
"What?"
"Buck, seriously, are you okay?" Eddie said, pulling himself back.
"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" Buck concluded, eyes drooping low.
"What? No?"
"Eddie, you just told me you're in love with me! And we danced in front of everyone! And we were good!"
"We were much more than good, we were perfect," Eddie specified, proudly.
"Right! So it cannot be real. I have to wake up."
"Buck. It's real. Everything is real."
Even if Eddie's chocolate eyes were hypnotizing, Buck had to be rational.
"No. You're not my Eddie. My Eddie's straight."
"Your Eddie's not. He's gay as fuck."
"My Eddie's not—"
"Buck. Are you really serious right now?" Eddie groaned, irritated.
"Yeah," he said, throat aching and eyes burning. "I'm serious. It's— if it's not real, I don't think I can survive it."
"Do you trust me?" Eddie asked, grave and beautiful.
Buck nodded. Of course he trusted him. Any day.
Eddie approached him, tugging at his collar.
"Everything is real, Buck. I swear. I can prove it to you."
"How?" Buck rasped.
"Kiss me," Eddie said in a whisper, lips barely touching Buck's.
Buck took a leap.
He didn't regret it.