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They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. This is a good thing for Buck since it also happens to be his favorite meal of the day.
Back in LA, he and Eddie usually hit up a hole-in-the-wall diner after their shift is over and then head home and crash. Unfortunately for them, there isn't a Gussie's Diner in the middle of Arizona.
There is a diner that happens to be next to the motel where they slept last night. That meant they didn't have to discuss where to eat this morning, and Buck is grateful for that because he doesn't even know how to speak to Eddie right now.
They absolutely crushed it at the firefighter games in Nashville. The trophy sitting in the bed of Eddie's truck was proof of that.
Buck should be happy — he was happy — until last night.
Every day of their road trip has been pretty much the same. They switch off driving whenever they can, Buck talks Eddie's ear off about his latest Wikipedia deep dive, and Buck forces Eddie to stop for the night when he looks like he's about to fall asleep at the wheel.
That's what led them to the shitty motel in Bumfuck Nowhere, Arizona.
They only had one room available. And they failed to mention that this room only had one bed.
It didn't seem to phase Eddie, though. He had just shrugged, took off his shoes, and got into the bed.
Buck, on the other hand, was pretty sure that his soul had left his body.
It's not like he and Eddie hadn't shared a bed before, but that was years ago. It was before Buck realized he was bisexual. And it was way before he realized he was in love with Eddie.
"What are you doing?"
Eddie's voice cut through Buck's thought spiral.
Buck flinched, turning his gaze over to Eddie, whose eyes were still closed.
"Nothing," Buck said dumbly.
Eddie sighed like a man who has suffered through ten lifetimes of Evan Buckley's shenanigans.
"Are you coming to bed?" He eventually asked. "Or are you just gonna stand there and stare at me for the rest of the night?"
Buck spluttered. "I-I wasn't, I'm not—"
Eddie cracked an eye open, giving him an unimpressed look. "Why are you acting weird?"
"Why are you acting weird?" Buck responded as if he was twelve years old.
"Do you not want to share the bed? Because if it's that much of an issue for you, I can sleep on the floor—"
"No!" He blurted out.
Eddie raised an eyebrow, obviously confused by the dramatic response.
"I mean…no," Buck said. "You should take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
Eddie sat up and crossed his arms, seemingly giving up on the idea of sleep. "Your back is going to hurt tomorrow if you do that."
"And if you do it, it's not going to be much better," Buck pointed out. "Need I remind you that you literally just fell down the stairs in Nashville?"
"I didn't fall," Eddie argued. "I was pushed. There's a difference."
Buck snorted. "Regardless of the method by which you lost your battle with gravity, you're still recovering from an injury. Sleeping on the floor will only exacerbate it and you know it."
Eddie clapped his hands, a grin plastered on his face. "Great, so we're on the same page."
Buck knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. "We…are?"
"Yes," Eddie said. "We're going to share this bed and it doesn't have to be a thing and then we can both wake up tomorrow pain-free."
"Eddie," Buck warned.
"Buck."
It was clear that Eddie wasn't going to back down. He was just staring at Buck, not with annoyance or irritation in his eyes, but with something close to fondness.
And when Eddie looks at Buck like that, how can Buck possibly deny him anything?
So he got into the bed.
That satisfied Eddie. He gave Buck a small smile before turning off the lamp and closing his eyes again.
Buck just lied there for a while, staring at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to come.
He looked over at Eddie, whose breathing was finally starting to even out.
Buck knew he should've just let him sleep. Eddie had been driving for the last four hours and was exhausted down to his bones, even if he'd never admit it.
There was probably only a foot of space between them, but Buck still felt so far away from him.
"Eddie," he whispered.
That was enough to get Eddie to stir. He had always been a light sleeper. Being in the Army will do that to you.
It was too dark to see Eddie's face, but Buck could imagine it being all scrunched up and cute like how it always looks when Chris barges in and wakes him up for breakfast on the weekends.
"You okay?" Eddie whispered back.
"Can't sleep," Buck confessed.
Eddie shifted onto his side so he was facing Buck, propping his head up with his hand.
"Is there something on your mind?"
Buck shrugged, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. Maybe if Eddie couldn't look at him then he wouldn't be able to read him like a fucking book.
"Talk to me," Eddie said softly.
Buck sighed. He didn't want to lie to Eddie, it's something he could historically never do well anyway. But he couldn't tell him the whole truth either.
"I had a lot of fun in Nashville," Buck eventually said.
The with you part went unsaid.
"Me too," Eddie told him.
"It felt like we were us again," Buck continued. "But…"
He frowned. He didn't know how honest he was allowed to be here. But it's not like Eddie would ever judge him for it.
Buck finally turned onto his side too, facing Eddie. Eddie just waited.
Buck took a shaky breath. "When we get back to LA, we'll go back to not being partners anymore and…I don't know, I just—"
He cut himself off as his voice cracked against his will. "I guess I just didn't realize how much I missed it."
How much I missed you.
"Buck," Eddie said gently.
He reached over and wiped at Buck's cheek with his thumb. That's when Buck realized his face was wet. He was actually crying. How fucking embarrassing.
"You're still my partner," Eddie assured him. "You always will be. That's never going to change."
"You don't know that."
Maybe Buck was being petulant, but who could blame him for being apprehensive? People didn't exactly have a tendency of sticking around for him.
"Yes, I do," Eddie insisted. "I'm not going anywhere."
Except that he did. Eddie's stint in Texas was just another item on the laundry list of people who have walked out on Buck over the years.
Buck tried really hard not to hold it against him. He knew Eddie didn't have a choice — he was doing it for Christopher. But that didn't make it hurt any less.
"I came back," Eddie said as if he could read his mind. "I know that I left, but I came back. I'll never leave again, Buck, I swear."
Buck choked back a sob. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, but he only ever showed this much emotion in front of his sister. He always tried to shield Eddie from the ugliest parts of himself, and Eddie always did the same.
But things seemed different now, the energy between them more charged than it had ever been. It felt sacred. Holy. Something that only existed in history books or on the stained glass windows of the oldest churches in the world.
"Okay," Buck finally murmured. "Okay, Eddie."
Even though Buck still couldn't see him, he knew Eddie was smiling at him.
"Okay," Eddie said. "Will you go to sleep now?"
"I'm sorry I woke you up."
"Don't do that," Eddie scolded. "Buck, are you tired?"
"No," Buck admitted.
"Really?"
"Really."
Eddie hummed. "Maybe we should bring Ambien when we travel together from now on."
The idea of taking more trips with Eddie in the future made Buck's heart skip a beat, but he refused to look at that too closely.
"I took Ambien once," Buck said. "I didn't like it."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie shifted closer to him. "What happened?"
"I took it before my flight to Peru and I had a dream that I turned into an apple." He frowned. "I didn't have any arms. Or legs. It was terrifying."
Eddie laughed so hard that it made the bed shake. "Holy shit."
Buck rolled his eyes. "I'm glad the story of my Ambien-induced fruit fever dream could entertain you."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Eddie rubbed his face, presumably to wipe off the tears that had shed from his uncontrollable laughter. "That's just so fucking funny."
"Yeah, yeah."
Buck wasn't really annoyed with him. He was actually glad that he could make Eddie laugh after everything they'd been through in the last year. He hadn't heard Eddie laugh like that in such a long time.
"Is that why you don't like flying?" Eddie asked once he finally calmed down.
Buck must have visibly tensed up at the question, because Eddie immediately reached over and put a hand on Buck's shoulder.
"We don't have to talk about it," Eddie said. "Not if you don't want to."
"Thanks," Buck whispered. "And thanks for letting us drive to Nashville. I know flying would've made it a lot easier."
"It would have," Eddie agreed. "But you hate flying."
Buck scoffed. "I could've sucked it up."
"I'm sure you could have," Eddie said. "But it would've stressed you out. I like it better when you're happy."
Buck's breath hitched. He reached out, wrapping his hand around Eddie's wrist.
"I like it when you're happy, too."
Eddie's pulse quickened under Buck's thumb. Buck was afraid that he was going to pull away, but he didn't. He just looked at Buck for a minute like he was building up the courage for something.
"Hey, Buck?"
"Yeah?"
Eddie inhaled sharply. "You're my best friend."
Buck couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Last time I checked."
Eddie shook his head. "No, it's just…there's something I want to tell you."
Buck's heart was in his throat. "Okay."
"But not here," he said quickly.
"What, is it not appropriate bedtime conversation?" Buck teased.
Eddie huffed. "No, I mean…I'll tell you when we get back to LA."
"Why can't you tell me now?" Buck pressed.
Buck didn't need to see him to know Eddie was rolling his eyes.
"I wanted to tell you in Nashville," Eddie said. "But there was never a right time."
Eddie's pulse continued to hum under Buck's touch. Buck gave his wrist a little stroke, letting him know he could say as much or as little as he wanted to.
"I want to tell you," Eddie repeated. "Just not in this shitty motel in the middle of nowhere."
Buck's breath hitched. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," Eddie assured him.
"And you would tell me if it wasn't?"
"Of course. It's nothing bad, I swear. It's just…really important to me and I want to do it right."
The selfish part of Buck wanted to force the information out of Eddie to avoid suffering another second without knowing what this thing was. But Eddie always came to him eventually — so Buck was going to have to just suck it up and wait.
"You can tell me whenever you're ready," Buck simply said.
Eddie smiled and Buck smiled back and that should have been the end of it. Spoiler alert: that was not the end of it.
Buck doesn't let things go, okay? He might have been acting very cool about this secret piece of information that Eddie was sitting on, but he was very much not cool about it.
He tried not to spiral. After all, Eddie promised him it wasn't anything bad and it's not like Eddie would ever lie to him about something big, so why should he be worried?
But Buck can't not worry about Eddie. It's a physical impossibility. If it was something good, why would he have to wait? What kind of good thing needed to be said in the right place at the right time?
Maybe Eddie was going to tell Buck that he met someone. A nice girl that he actually likes and that his parents would approve of. Whoever this woman was, she probably didn't realize how lucky she was to end up with someone as good as Eddie.
What if this meant that he didn't want Buck around as much anymore? It's not like Eddie's past girlfriends were ever a cause of concern for Buck. Eddie wasn't serious about Ana or Marisol, but what if this was someone he was serious about?
Eddie yawned. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing," Buck lied.
Eddie gave him a look. "You're always thinking. You're like a computer."
Buck snorted.
"But seriously, what is it?" Eddie pressed. "Tell me."
Buck sighed, pushing himself onto his back so he could stare at the ceiling again. "I don't know. Part of me wishes we could just stay here forever."
"Stay in this shitty motel forever?" Eddie teased.
Buck huffed. "Obviously not here here, but like, anywhere we wanted to go. I wish we could just take Chris on a road trip across the country and not have to work anymore."
"And leave the 118?"
"Wouldn't be the first time for you," Buck replied bitterly.
Eddie just sighed at that and Buck could feel his gaze burning into the side of his head.
"Sorry," Buck whispered. "That was mean."
"Yes, it was," Eddie agreed. "But I'm gonna let it go because clearly there's something going on that you're not telling me."
I think I'm in love with you. How do I tell you that?
"Can you just drop it?" Buck pleaded.
"Buck—"
"Eddie, please." Buck pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm trying not to make it about me."
Eddie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"I don't know," Buck sighed. "I think I'm just tired."
Eddie yawned again. "Me too."
"Good night, Eddie."
Buck closed his eyes, willing himself to be pulled into sleep. Maybe he was already sleeping and this entire conversation was just a dream.
Buck thought that was the end of the discussion, but apparently Eddie thought otherwise.
"Buck?"
He considered pretending to be asleep, but it wasn't going to work. Eddie knew him too well for that.
"Yeah?"
"I'd like that, too."
Buck turned his head to look at him. "You'd like what?"
"What you were saying before," Eddie clarified. "A road trip with Chris. I'm sure he'd love it."
Buck smiled. "Maybe we can take him one day."
Eddie reached over, pushing a stray curl away from Buck's forehead. His thumb then moved to his brow bone, caressing the skin where his birthmark was.
Eddie's hand slid down until he was cradling Buck's jaw, scratching the stubble on his chin. Buck's breath hitched.
"Eddie," he whispered. "What are you doing?"
Eddie blinked sluggishly, clearly fighting off sleep, but still had a smile on his face nonetheless.
"Committing you to memory," he replied.
Buck wanted to respond with some witty remark, something like how could you ever forget this face, Diaz? Or you could take a picture, it'll last longer, but he didn't have the chance to say anything before Eddie was leaning forward and pressing his mouth against his.
It took Buck's brain a few seconds to catch up before he was kissing him back. The angle was a bit awkward with both of them lying down on their sides, but they had no problems making it work. They were just always in sync.
It was chaste at first. Buck thought maybe he should've pulled away before it became something too serious, but instead Eddie whined and deepened the kiss as if he had read Buck's mind. And because Buck has never been good at denying Eddie what he wants, he just wrapped his arm around Eddie's waist and pulled him closer.
Sure, Buck had fantasized about kissing Eddie many, many times. A lot of people think about kissing their best friend, right? But actually kissing Eddie was so much better than he imagined it would be. He had a little scar on his top lip, which Buck already knew about but he never thought he would know what it felt like to swipe his own tongue across it.
Now that he knew what Eddie tasted like, how could he ever want anything else? Anyone else? He did want to settle down soon, he wanted to go home to his person at the end of every day like the rest of his friends did. He didn't realize until Eddie's lips were on his that he had already been going home to his person for years.
And then Eddie pulled away.
At first, Buck thought maybe he just needed some air. But when he didn't close the distance between them again, Buck's heart began to sank. He was too scared to open his eyes, knowing if he met Eddie's regretful gaze it would break him right open.
Then, he heard a muffled noise. Buck cracked an eye open to see Eddie tucking his mouth into his arm, stifling a yawn. His face was all scrunched up, the bags under his eyes prominent even in the pitch darkness.
"What, am I boring you?" Buck tried to joke.
Eddie sighed, settling back down into the pillow. "Never."
Buck held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Eddie to tell him that he didn't mean it, that it was a mistake. But Eddie said nothing at all — and that was almost worse.
When he finally gained the courage to look at Eddie's face, he saw that his eyes were closed. He was fast asleep, his breathing already starting to even out.
Buck had made out with a lot of people in his life, but this was a first for him. Someone literally going to sleep to avoid speaking to him had to be an all-time low.
He couldn't sleep after that. He just kept running back everything in his mind, wondering what he would say tomorrow. If there was anything he could say that would allow them to come back from this.
After eight hours of staring at the ceiling and wishing he had access to a time machine, Buck now finds himself sitting across from Eddie in a shitty diner hoping that he hasn't blown up their eight years of friendship.
Eddie has been sitting across from him perusing the menu for the last five minutes. He has looked up at Buck a few times, blushing and quickly looking away when he realizes that Buck is already looking at him.
Buck can't stop looking at him, is the thing. He's just so beautiful. How did he never notice before? Buck can't think about breakfast right now. He might throw up or die, whichever happens first.
He knows that Eddie is going to reject him at some point. It'll either be in a few minutes once he's ordered his breakfast, or in an hour when they hit the road again, or in a couple of days when they finally get back home to LA.
Buck isn't the guy that people see forever with. That's just the way it is.
He starts to think that Eddie may never talk to him again when he finally speaks.
"I'm thinking a breakfast burrito," Eddie says.
And that simple comment sends Buck into a spiral of rage.
"Are you insane?" Buck blurts out.
Eddie raises an eyebrow. "No? I really want a breakfast burrito."
"Eddie, we—" Buck leans forward, lowering his voice. "We kissed last night and you're thinking about breakfast burritos?"
Eddie blinks. "I'm hungry."
Buck scoffs. "Unbelievable." He leans back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest.
He really wanted to give Eddie the benefit of the doubt. They were best friends — would one night of stupidity really jeopardize all of that? But Eddie is acting way too nonchalant for someone who just tilted Buck's whole world on its axis.
"You're really just gonna sit there and act like it didn't happen," he mutters.
Eddie looks up at him, a small fond smile on his face that's reserved only for Buck.
"I'm going to marry you someday," Eddie murmurs. "Do you want French toast?"
Buck nearly chokes on his coffee. There was no way he heard that correctly…right?
"Uh," he splutters. "What did you just say?"
"Do you want French toast?"
"Before that," Buck clarifies.
"Oh." Eddie's smile only grows wider. "I'm going to marry you someday."
Buck might be having a stroke. Eddie must be playing some sick prank on him. Obviously he doesn't want to marry Buck — he's straight. Maybe he means it in a platonic way?
Before Buck can formulate a response, the waitress seems to teleport in front of their table.
"Are y'all ready to order?" She asks in a sweet southern drawl.
Buck doesn't mean to be rude, but he can't answer her. He's too busy gaping at Eddie like a fish that threw itself out of its aquarium.
The waitress frowns, turning her attention to Eddie instead. "Do you need a few more minutes?"
"We're ready," Eddie replies confidently.
He gives the waitress a charming smile, gesturing in Buck's direction.
"You'll have to excuse my partner," he tells her. "He seems to have lost his voice."
My partner. They're not exactly work partners anymore. They were partners in Nashville. Maybe it was just a slip — Eddie must still be in competition mode. That's all.
She turns back to Buck, clutching her chest in sympathy. "Oh, you poor thing."
Buck contemplates between killing himself or killing Eddie. They are in the middle of the desert after all — there's a good chance he'd get away with it. He just stares at Eddie and Eddie stares back with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Buck thinks it can't possibly get any worse until the waitress turns back to Eddie and asks:
"Do you know what your husband wants to eat?"
This is probably the first time in Buck's entire life that he's been speechless. Husband can only have one definition. Buck is not Eddie's husband. Therefore, Eddie will correct her and move on, right? Right?
"He wants the French toast," Eddie replies, not missing a beat. "I'll take the breakfast burrito, and…"
Eddie pretends to peruse the menu a little bit more. Buck knows he's pretending because this is what he always does. He acts like he's putting a lot of thought into it, as if making a decision too quickly makes him bad or something. It doesn't.
"…a pancake for the table, please," Eddie eventually decides.
Buck bites back a smile. The "table pancake" was a little hack he saw on TikTok a while back that he, of course, had to share with Eddie.
"What the hell is a 'table pancake?'" Eddie had asked. "Is it a pancake the size of a table?"
Buck stifled a laugh. "No. It's a pancake that we order for the table."
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "And what's the purpose of it?"
It took every ounce of self-control within Buck's body not to roll his eyes at that. Eddie always needed some sound logic to justify enjoying something instead of just letting himself have it. Obviously there were deeper issues behind it, but for God's sake, they were talking about fucking pancakes.
"We share it," Buck explained. "That way, you can order a savory dish and still enjoy something sweet."
Eddie had tilted his head, contemplating the idea.
"Huh," he finally said. "I've never thought of that before."
"Right? See, the Internet isn't completely evil."
Eddie pointed his finger at him. "I'm still not getting a Hildy."
"Alrighty," the waitress says, pulling Buck out of his memory. "I'll put that right in for y'all."
"Thank you," Eddie says.
Not wanting to blow his cover of being unable to speak, Buck just gives her a smile and a nod. She smiles back and takes their menus from them before rushing off to put in their order.
Buck holds his coffee cup in a death grip, just so he has something to do with his hands. Eddie's still looking at him as if Buck had hung the moon for him. Maybe he's always looked at Buck like that — and Buck just never noticed until now.
"Did you mean it?" Buck asks quietly. "What you said before?"
Eddie takes a sip of his coffee. "About marrying you?"
Eddie is being so fucking calm about this entire thing that it makes Buck want to throw himself out of the glass window. Buck does not throw himself out of the glass window.
He nods his head.
"Of course," Eddie says as if Buck is the one being ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I mean that?"
Buck pinches the bridge of his nose. "Eddie, you're straight."
Eddie actually snorts at that.
"Can you stop messing around?" Buck hisses.
Eddie throws his hands up. "I didn't say anything!"
"You're acting like this is some fucking joke. You—" Buck inhales sharply. "You can't just say things like that to me, Eddie. It's mean."
"Buck," Eddie sighs. "I'm pretty sure you're the love of my life. Does that make me straight?"
At that exact moment, their waitress returns with their food.
"Is there anything else I can grab for y'all?"
"No, thank you," Eddie replies, not taking his eyes off Buck. "We have everything we need."
"Well, just holler if you change your mind!"
And then she's off again.
Eddie takes a comically large bite of his breakfast burrito and actually moans. If it was anyone else, Buck would be disgusted. But it's Eddie.
"So good," Eddie says around the food. "Eat your French toast, Buckley."
Buck looks down at his French toast as if it's personally offended him.
In his periphery, he sees Eddie set his burrito down and cross his arms over his chest.
"You're mad," Eddie concludes.
"I'm not mad," Buck says earnestly. "I'm just…really confused here, man."
Eddie chuckles. "If I explain, will you eat your food?"
Buck debates kicking his heels in for a solid two seconds before he caves and nods, picking up his fork and knife.
"As I was saying before," Eddie begins as Buck takes his first bite of French toast. "You're the love of my life."
"Uh, I believe your words were 'I'm pretty sure you're the love of my life,'" Buck mutters before taking another bite.
Eddie ignores him. "I've known it for a while now. And if you're the love of my life, then I can't be straight."
Buck huffs. "I mean, you could be confusing it for a platonic soulmate—"
"I'm not," Eddie cuts him off firmly. "I was confused before. But now I know that it's you. You're it for me."
Buck must have suffered a concussion at the firefighter games and has slipped into another coma because there's no way that this is really happening.
"But…" Buck doesn't even know how to form sentences. "Shannon?"
Eddie softens. "Shannon was my best friend."
Buck frowns. "I thought I was your best friend."
"You are," Eddie agrees. "Why do you think I was confused this whole time?"
Buck drops his fork. Is the kitchen on fire? He feels very hot. Maybe he's having a panic attack. Or maybe he's dying.
"I'll never regret what Shan and I had," Eddie says wistfully. "But I wasn't in love with her."
"So, what are you saying?" Buck whispers.
Buck is pretty sure he knows what Eddie is saying, but this is not a conclusion he should jump to.
Eddie leans forward, laying his hand on top of Buck's. "I'm saying that I love you, Buck. And I know you love me, too."
"Of course I do," Buck says immediately.
Eddie chuckles, caressing Buck's knuckles with his thumb. "I don't mean as a friend."
Buck freezes under Eddie's touch. "But you're—"
"Call me straight one more time and you're getting hit in the head with a breakfast burrito."
"Eddie, I—" Buck cuts himself off, the gears suddenly turning in his head. "Wait a minute."
Eddie tilts his head, waiting for him to continue.
Buck plays last night's conversation back in his mind.
There's something I want to tell you.
"Is that what you were going to tell me last night?" Buck asks. "That you aren't straight?"
Eddie snorts. "You're just now putting that together?"
Buck throws up a hand, the other still covered by Eddie's. "I don't know! I thought you were gonna tell me you were seeing someone."
Eddie rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath in Spanish.
Buck takes a shaky breath, building his courage to ask the question he's been thinking all morning.
"Why did you kiss me last night?"
Eddie seems stunned for a split second, but then he finds his composure and simply shrugs. "Because I wanted to."
"Because you wanted to," Buck echoes.
Eddie nods, his eyes searching Buck's face. He must not like what he finds because he pulls his hand away from Buck and leans back against the booth.
"Do you not feel the same way?" Eddie's voice shakes as says it. "Because if I got this all wrong, Buck—"
"Hey, no." Buck scrambles across the table, grabbing Eddie's hand before he can pull it away again. "You didn't get it wrong."
Eddie's eyes widen. "I didn't?"
Buck shakes his head, smiling wide. "I'm in love with you, too."
Eddie lets out a sigh of relief, squeezing Buck's hand. "That's good. This was gonna be really awkward if you didn't."
Buck laughs, using his other hand to grab his discarded fork so he could dig back into his French toast. He can finally calm down now. Eddie loves him.
After a few minutes of them both eating their food one-handed, Buck feels like he should come clean.
"Do you know why I was so anxious this morning?" Buck asks.
Eddie shakes his head.
"I thought maybe you regretted it," he admits.
Eddie furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "What, kissing you?"
Buck stares down at his plate, nodding his head.
Eddie squeezes his hand again. "Buck. Look at me."
Buck does what he's told.
"Being with you," Eddie begins, his voice soft and sweet. "Could never be something I regret."
"But, how do you know?" Buck presses. "How do you know you want me when there is a whole world out there—"
"I don't want the world," Eddie says firmly. "I want you."
All of the air rushes out of Buck's lungs.
"Oh," he breathes.
He is trying really hard not to burst into tears in the middle of this diner.
That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to him. It wasn't just the words themselves. It was the way Eddie said them — like it was obvious, like it was simple.
Buck is his world.
"Did I break you?" Eddie jokes, tugging on his hand.
Buck shakes his head, clearing his throat. "Nope. I'm totally cool over here."
"You're totally cool?" Eddie teases.
"Uh-huh."
Eddie grins, his canines poking out of his mouth. "Not sure if I believe that, bud."
Buck rips his hand out of Eddie's, but there's no real heat behind it. "Shut up and eat your breakfast burrito."
Eddie laughs, raising his hands up in a placating manner before doing what he's told.
Buck finishes up his French toast, eyeing the buttermilk pancake lying between him and Eddie that they still haven't touched.
He nudges Eddie's foot under the table, nodding to the pancake.
"Split it with me?"
Eddie scoffs, abandoning the rest of his burrito to grab a knife and split the pancake in half. "Buck, if I ever say no to that question, just put me down."
Buck nearly cackles at that. "Like a dog?"
Eddie nods very seriously. "Like a dog."
Buck holds his fork out to Eddie and he doesn't break eye contact as he takes a bite of the pancake.
The waitress seems to have teleportation powers or something, because once again she comes out of nowhere.
"Is everything good over here for y'all?"
Since Eddie has a mouth full of pancake, Buck takes the liberty of answering for them both.
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."
She seems surprised to actually hear Buck speak this time, but she quickly schools her expression.
"Well, let me know if y'all need anything else!"
Buck waits until she's out of earshot before giving Eddie a mischievous smile. "We have everything we need."
Eddie smiles, remembering his earlier words. "Yeah, we do."