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“There’s something I’m still confused about,” Buck slurs out as he leans over the bar table, his speech impeded by both the late hour and a few too many drinks. There’s a rosy hue to his cheeks, making them pop out a little more, accentuating the round shape of his face in a way that makes Eddie’s stomach do something even more complicated than when Buck was strutting the catwalk before his eyes, all legs and arm muscles.
It makes Eddie desperately want to dig his teeth into his high cheeks as he smiles without a care in the world. Which is, as he figured out almost a year ago now, not something straight guys usually think of their best friends.
“What is it?” Eddie asks, raising a brow and taking a sip of his Sex on the Beach, which he hopes will hide his fluster. He should probably lean back in his chair a little. Get himself out of the danger zone, the one where he gets to see how bright Buck’s pupils shine in the warm lights of the bar they find themselves in.
“Where did you find—” Buck stops himself, counting with his fingers with a confused frown before continuing, “two thousand five hundred dollars?”
Eddie shrugs. That is, maybe, a bit too much money to spend on one-self just to avoid taking part in a firefighter bachelor auction. Or, more specifically, avoid ending up on a date with a poor woman who definitely didn’t deserve to be strung along. “Told you I made a pretty penny flipping that house.”
“Yeah but— Two thousand five hundred dollars? That could have gone in Chris’ college fund.”
The words blossom in Eddie’s stomach, a thousand butterflies taking their first flight as they always do when Buck talks about Chris. It’s torture to force himself to stay still and only roll his eyes, biting down on his cheek to avoid a way-too obvious smile taking over his face.
This night is going to be the death of him.
Watching Buck flexing his… advantages in front of a crowd a few hours earlier was already hard enough.
Hearing the words is ready to settle down with that special someone even harder.
Seeing him with Jee and Nash? Absolute misery.
And now, having made their way to a bar near the bachelor auction venue after everyone else claimed they needed to get rest, Buck has decided to add to the pile by reminding him just how much he means to him and Chris. What a fool.
“He’s a smart kid, he’ll get a college fund,” Eddie retorts with confidence.
“I don’t doubt that, but it’s always nice to have a little extra money, you know? To decorate his college room. Or to have an emergency fund if he wants to go to Mexico for Spring Break with his friends.”
“If you think I’m letting our—” Eddie stutters through the words. The alcohol is starting to get to him a little, and he squints, trying to get his focus back. Jesus, Buck is so beautiful tonight. “My son go to Mexico for Spring Break during his hypothetical freshman year of college, you’re speaking to the wrong dad.”
“Nah, I’m always speaking to the right one,” Buck says, amused, with a slight raise of his eyebrows that makes Eddie fluster. If he didn’t know better, he would think Buck is flirting with him. Which he is not, obviously.
Eddie’s pretty sure the subject’s dropped and he’s out of danger when Buck opens his pretty lips again, staring at the label of his beer like it might give him the answers to the universe. “It’s just— it’s a lot of money to just avoid going on a date?”
“It’s for charity,” Eddie says with a wave of his hand. “Plus I almost spent a lot more money,” he mumbles under his breath, realizing only at the last moment what he just said, closing his eyes and praying Buck didn’t hear as he fights back the urge to smash his stupid gay brain against the table.
“Huh? How?”
Eddie opens his eyes, meeting the gaze of a Buck who looks a thousand times more confused than when they started this conversation.
“Nothing,” he tries, pretending to lift his glass up to check how full it is. “This is empty,” he lies, as if Buck can’t see for himself there’s definitely more than ice left in the drink. “Want another one?”
Buck grabs the glass, inspecting it like it could be the murder weapon at a crime scene before setting it down. “It’s not. How would you have spent more money at a bachelor charity auction? I thought the whole point was that you didn’t want to date?” He frowns a bit more, leaning in as he whispers. “You know there were only men participating, right?”
Yes, that’s the whole point, Eddie would say if he was a little braver. If the idea of telling Buck still didn’t terrify him so much it cut his breathing. If only the bar floor could open under his feet and swallow him whole, Eddie would probably feel more comfortable in the pits of hell than he is here right now.
Breathing deep, Eddie leans back, running away as far as his chair will allow. “I would have spent more on myself, that’s what I mean,” Eddie lies.
“You could have told Maddie that,” Buck grumbles, still a little annoyed he asked Maddie for help for some reason.
It’s not like Eddie had anyone else to ask. Chimney would have asked way too many questions. Athena is still a little terrifying to him, plus she might have had questions about Alex and Eddie might have had to say the words he was scared of saying for her to drop the subject for good. And Hen and Karen had decided to not attend the event altogether. Too much heterosexuality, Hen claimed, even though Eddie was pretty sure she just wanted to spend as much time with Karen as she could before she had to go back to work.
“Yeah. You know just— no time.”
Buck tips his head to the side, looking at him with piercing eyes. Has he miraculously sobered up in the last few minutes? Just to read through Eddie and torture him? Or is there no alcohol strong enough on earth to stop Buck’s magical powers of seeing through Eddie? “You’re lying,” he affirms.
“Am not.” Eddie shakes his head frantically.
“Oh my god, you are!” Buck chuckles, finally sitting up a little instead of being so dangerously close. “You were going to spend money on something else— On—” His face turns from amusement to a confused frown. “On what, exactly?”
Eddie shrugs. He’s not going to help him with that. Surely Buck will give him a few tries, then give up, right?
“Did you— wanna bid on Harry so he didn’t have to date someone too old for him?”
Of course Buck would go there immediately. Bless his heart. Eddie shakes his head as he takes a sip of his cocktail, the sweet comforting taste almost enough to make him believe he’s going to get out of there.
“Hmm.” Buck frowns, visibly replaying the events of the night before his eyes. “Ravi? I agree it was weird no one bidded on him immediately.”
“Nope,” Eddie answers, popping the ‘p’. “Not Ravi,” he smiles, letting himself get into the game a little.
“Well— It’s not like we really knew the rest of those guys. Did one of them ask for your help or something?”
“No, Buck, I’m the only idiot who was freaking out about this.” The only idiot who thought he could do it to make Chimney happy, stupidly distracted by everything going on with Abigail until he was about to get on stage and realized a gay man couldn’t really participate in an auction when the buyers were all women.
“Hey, you’re not an idiot.”
“Well, that’s not what you were implying two minutes ago.”
“No, I was just— concerned.” Buck frowns suddenly. “Hey, don’t try to change the subject.” Eddie winces. He was so close. “I just— I don’t get it. Unless—” His gaze perks up, meeting Eddie’s. “Oh my god, did you want to help me beat that stupid record?”
No. Yes. Of course Eddie never cared about that stupid record he just— He just— He can’t even let himself think it, that’s how ridiculous Eddie is about it. He drinks more. Yes. That will definitely help.
“It is!” Buck exclaims gleefully, his voice a little loud for the hour and the number of patrons in the bar, that is, not many. “You were going to bid on me?”
Eddie buries his face in his hands, taking a deep breath. At least this is all fun for Buck. Just fun. Nothing else. Because, of course, Buck—
“You’re such a good friend.” First gunshot. “But I really didn’t need that.” Second gunshot. “But if you had, we wouldn’t have had to go on a date, you know.” And there it is, and Eddie is lying dying on the floor, not for the first time, probably not for the last.
He can feel the blood running out of his veins, the ground below him slowly swallowing him whole as he drowns in his shame, in that fear he will never be able to say those little words, before something snaps in him. The image of Buck tearing his shirt off, all muscles and giggles, flashes before his eyes, the way he unveiled the breadth of his chest, tentatively hidden by that ridiculous tank top, and Eddie hadn’t been able to tear his eyes off.
Fuck that stupid gay shame.
Eddie sets his glass down on the table, hard
“We would have had to,” he affirms with a newfound confidence that takes him by surprise. Liquid courage running through his veins, maybe.
Buck blinks. “I— You know no one is checking this thing right? Nothing says we actually have to do the date, otherwise the charity doesn’t get the money or anything.”
“But I would have wanted to,” Eddie whines, unsure why his voice sounds like that until he realizes his cocktail is almost empty.
In front of him, Buck’s brain seems to have gone blank. “As— Like a friend date?”
“No!” Eddie exclaims, because all he can think of is how cute Buck is when he’s confused like that, eyebrows twisting and blue eyes oceans of worry. “Like a date date.”
“I—” Buck opens his mouth, frowns, before closing it again, giving up. “I don’t get it.”
Torture. This is torture. He’s already said stupidly too much and he can’t go back but he also can’t move forward either. He needs Buck to get it on his own so he can stay a coward. He doesn’t have it in himself to be that brave.
He’s never had.
“I just— If I was going to spend eight thousand and two dollars on you, I just— I think I would deserve the date, right?” Eddie doesn’t dare to look up, gaze fixed on his finger tracing a circular shape with the little condensation on his glass.
“Right,” Buck agrees, and Eddie can see his slow nod from the corner of his eyes, lasting a little too long. “What I don’t get is… why you would you want a date with me.”
Eddie exhales deeply. Is it that hard to understand?
“Because you’re—” Eddie stumbles through his words, heat rising to his cheeks a little more every minute that goes by. “Because you’re Buck,” is what he ends up settling on. “And I think I’d like to go on a date with you,” he whispers before finally allowing himself to look at Buck.
Something shines in Buck’s eyes before it dies. Hope then nothing. Eddie doesn’t know what to make of it, which is ridiculous, because Eddie always knows what to make of what happens behind Buck’s eyes. Maybe he’s thrown it all away by mumbling that stupid gay sentence that his stupid gay brain couldn’t prevent from escaping his stupid gay lips.
Fuck his stupid gay life.
“When you say— a date,” Buck says at last, bottom lip a little shaky. “What— What would that look like?”
Eddie blushes, images of what he’s been daydreaming about since… longer than he’d like to admit swirling in his mind. His stupid gay mind.
“Well, I guess I would pick you up. Wear something nice.” Nicer than the old henley he’s wearing now because he wanted something comfortable to wear once he was done parading in a tank top. “Take you to a nice restaurant.”
“Which one?” Buck cuts him off, his face softening a little, eyes shining like he might be letting himself believe in the fantasy Eddie’s selling. Eddie’s heart stops for a second at the sight, unsure what to make of it. Buck’s just excited at the idea of a nice date, right? He’s a romantic like that. He’s probably not even picturing Eddie right now. Probably anyone that’s not his best friend of eight years.
“Roberto’s,” Eddie answers automatically. It’s not like Buck hasn’t said a thousand times he would love to try their fettuccine alfredo. ‘Even if I know it’s not really Italian,’ he’s added a thousand times, too.
“It would take you months to get a reservation there,” Buck counters.
“I would use the firefighter and charity card,” Eddie says easily. He’s been thinking about it, truly. Trying to call. He’s never played the veteran card before but, you know. Maybe getting shot in Afghanistan might come in use sometimes. “And if that didn't work— I wouldn’t mind waiting,” he adds truthfully.
Buck nods, a little weakly. “I wouldn’t mind waiting either,” he confesses in a breath. It’s hard to keep still at that, but Eddie takes a deep breath and doesn’t jump over the table to jump Buck’s bones. He should get a medal for that. A gold star.
“We would have a great time. It would be… romantic,” he dares to say, and Buck’s grin grows wider. “We wouldn’t notice time going by. I’m sure we would eventually be kicked out,” he laughs, because it wouldn’t be the first time. They’ve overstayed their welcomes in bars and restaurants and any place where they can get lost in each other’s eyes way too many times.
“And then?” Buck presses.
“I would take you home. Walk you to your front porch.”
Buck doesn’t seem to be breathing anymore.
“And then—” I would kiss you. “I would wish you good night,” Eddie completes, wanting to die on the spot as soon as Buck’s shoulders slump a little.
God, he’s such a fucking coward.
“That would be nice,” Buck says at last, a little raspy. “I’m not sure it would be worth… eight thousand and two dollars for you, though.”
And that, right there, the way Buck looks into his bottle, contemplating what he’s worth to Eddie as if it’s not the moon and the stars and the night sky itself, is what breaks the dam. What the fuck is Eddie doing? It’s Buck. Buck who’s never going to go anywhere. Who’ll stay his best friend no matter what.
Eddie spent so much of his life breaking things, he’s been terrified this is what would break them. He doesn’t want to let himself believe that anymore.
“Buck,” he says, standing up. “I think the bar is closing.”
“Huh?” Buck frowns, looking around.
“Come on,” Eddie insists, holding out a hand for Buck to grab. “Let me take you home.”
Buck looks at his hand dumbly, before taking it at least, looking like he’s too stunned or too tired to really understand what’s going on. Eddie doesn’t let go as he orders an Uber from his other hand as they walk out, waiting in silence outside as his heart beats faster.
Is he really about to do this?
Is the alcohol making him act like this?
No, Eddie decides as they enter the car, his hand finding Buck’s on the seat between them again as soon as their belts have been fastened. It has nothing to do with that.
And everything to do with Buck deserving to know how much he’s loved.
Everything to do with Buck walking down that catwalk under the cheers of others and Eddie realizing, in that split moment, that he didn’t have a stupid paddle to bid on him, that it was unfair so many strangers who didn’t know Buck allowed themselves to get a bite of him when they didn’t deserve him one bit.
Eddie has never believed he deserved Buck.
But if, maybe, Buck could love him, Eddie would fight everyday to make himself worthy. And it starts here, on Buck’s porch as the uber’s engine roars away, and they’re left under Buck’s porchlight, Buck shifting on his feet as he seems lost with what Eddie is doing.
“This was a nice night,” Eddie says at last.
Buck nods. He hasn’t spoken since they left the bar. Like he’s afraid speaking will break this fantasy.
“We should do it again soon,” Eddie adds, making Buck smile, because obviously, they’re always doing stuff like that. Even if, usually, by now, they would both enter Buck’s house and Eddie would crash on his couch because he’s drunk a little too much to drive the ten minutes back home.
“We should,” Buck says, amused.
“Good night, Buck,” Eddie whispers, lifting himself up on his toes just a little to press a soft kiss to the corner of Buck’s lips, staying there for a moment too long as he inhales Buck’s cologne before stepping away.
Buck seems frozen in place, making Eddie wonder if he’s made a stupid mistake he’s going to regret for the rest of his life as he tries to take a step back. Buck stops him in his movement, grabbing at his wrist and tugging it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there that makes Eddie melt inside and out.
“You wanted to buy a date with me,” Buck says at last. Eddie nods. “A real one.”
“Yes,” Eddie confesses. “I would have spent every last cent for it.”
Buck shakes his head, fond as he leans in a little. “You don’t need to spend any money to go on a date with me.”
“Well, that kinda defeats the whole purpose of a charity auction,” Eddie argues, because he needs to say something when Buck’s lips are suddenly a breath away.
“You already gave two thousand five hundred dollars,” Buck points out, his free hand suddenly on Eddie's hip, bringing him just slightly closer. “The orphans will be fine.”
And then, before Eddie can stall anymore, Buck's lips are pressed against Eddie’s, melting away all concerns and reserves Eddie ever had.
Yeah, he should have bought that date with Buck, Eddie thinks as his lips open. Because even if his hands find Buck’s hair, tugging him closer, capturing him, Eddie knows it’s not enough.
He needs to scream it to the world, to those people with their paddles and their greed: Evan “Buck” Buckley is mine. And Eddie’s never letting go.