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If you were to ask Buck where he spent most of his time, the answer wouldn’t be his house. Surprisingly, it also wouldn’t be the firehouse. No - the place he spent most of his time was actually at Eddie’s.
Maybe it wouldn’t come as a surprise, actually. He was there nearly every night after work, cooking for Eddie and Christopher. Then there were the weekends, when all three of them would go out on day trips - the zoo, the pier, the shops - you name it, they’d be there.
Buck rarely spent time at his own house. Sometimes he was only there to sleep, but even then — sometimes he slept over at Eddie’s. Those were the nights where they’d be drinking, where Buck couldn’t be bothered to call an uber and grab his truck in the morning. So, instead, he’d just sleep on the couch.
It was a good couch. Comfortable enough, but most of the time he was so drunk he didn’t take much notice about how comfortable it actually was.
Buck liked spending the night at Eddie’s. In the morning, they’d make pancakes together. Eddie liked his thick and fluffy - American pancakes, Chris had told them. Buck liked his thin - more like crepes, Chris had also said. Apparently the kid was a pancake connoisseur. He usually ended up eating both his dad and Buck’s pancakes, stealing whatever he could. They didn’t mind.
Buck would give the world to Christopher if he asked him to.
Tonight was no different - Buck had come over after shift, a request from Chris. A new recipe he’d seen online, Eddie had said. Buck could hardly contain his laughter when Eddie had told him that Chris had specifically asked for Buck to come over and make it. He didn’t trust his dad to not ruin it, it seemed.
“I’m gonna have to start charging him for groceries,” Buck laughed, emptying the items onto the countertop. Eddie was sitting on one of the barstools opposite, and Chris was in the living room, talking to some of his friends online.
“He’s fifteen,” Eddie laughs, picking an apple from the fruit bowl in the centre of the kitchen island.
Buck immediately reached over and slapped Eddie’s hand, causing him to drop the apple. “Hey! No eating before dinner. How else are you going to appreciate my work if you’re already full?”
Eddie raised his eyebrows. “We’ve just come off of a twenty four hour shift. I’m ravenous. It’s just an apple.”
Buck shook his head. “No. You can wait, and then enjoy my cooking.”
Eddie wisely didn’t reach for the apple again, instead staying put and just watching Buck with an indescribable look on his face. “That kid has you wrapped round his little finger.”
Buck raised an eyebrow before smiling. “You’re only just realising?”
Eddie pushed back from the stool, standing up and stretching. “No. I’ve known that for a while. So have you,” he said, pushing it back under the counter. “I’m gonna take a shower. You good in here?”
Buck nodded. “I am very well acquainted with your kitchen, Eddie.”
The other male said nothing more as he left Buck alone in the kitchen - one that felt more like his own day after day. Buck laid out the ingredients, going onto his text thread with Chris, opening up the link he’d sent him.
A simple pasta recipe - one Eddie probably could’ve made - if he concentrated, but a soothing warmth spread through Buck. Chris had asked him specifically to come over and make it. Buck wasn’t entirely surprised - he had gained quite the aptitude for the kitchen. It had started off as baking sweet treats to deal with his break up with Tommy. A coping mechanism. From there, it had slowly transitioned into cooking. Another coping mechanism - though it had continued long after Buck had gotten over Tommy. From there - well, it just hadn’t stopped.
He made birthday cakes for the kids, cooked at the firehouse - and now in this house, too.
He could hear the shower running from in here, and from the living room, he could hear Chris, too.
Both of his boys, Buck thought.
He quickly scrubbed the thought from his mind. His best friend and his son, he reminded himself.
A vibration from his phone caught his attention, and he clicked on the little notification from Maddie.
Maddie: Where are you??
Buck: at eddie's
Maddie: Should've guessed. We came round to return your lawn mower.
Buck: ohhhhh shoot yeah i forgot you were doing that today
Buck: sorryyyy
Maddie: It's alright. We can come over with it tomorrow?
Buck: i can come over and grab it in the morning to save you the hassle?
Maddie: Okay, perfect. Say hi to the boys for me!
Buck: will do
He went back to the recipe, a smile dancing on his face as he started to chop up the onions. Despite his masterful abilities to produce quality food, he still hadn't quite mastered the ability to chop onions without crying. He could feel them starting to burn his eyes, blinking rapidly for a few seconds before putting the knife down and stepping away, squeezing his eyes shut to try and deter the sting.
He hadn't realised Eddie had slipped back into the kitchen until he heard a faint laugh coming from behind him.
"Are you...laughing at me being in pain?" Buck asked, whizzing around and staring at the figure in front of him, despite his slightly blurred vision.
The laughing ceased. "...no?"
"Hand me a damn towel," Buck asked, holding his hand out.
"Are you sure you don't want some goggles, or a face shield or something?" Eddie asked, and Buck could literally envision the smirk on his best friend's face.
"Eddie," Buck said again, and soon enough, a towel was passed into his hands, and he started dabbing at his eyes. "If you think it's so funny, you go and chop the onions. See how your eyes like it," Buck insisted, blinking rapidly again, the burning starting to fade.
Eddie held his hands up, then rubbed them together. "Buckley, you know I have no problem in proving you wrong. How fine do you want the onions?"
Buck walked over, crossing his arms against his chest. "Fine."
Eddie scoffed. A moment later, he started to sniffle. And then -
"Are you wiping your eyes, Diaz?" Buck asked, not able to stop the grin from spreading on his face. "Something the matter?"
Eddie shook his head, still facing away from Buck. "Nope. No. Everything - everything is fine here. Nothing to see. Just - think - I - erm. I left my phone in the bathroom. One sec," he spoke quickly, darting out of the kitchen, leaving Buck stood there, a bemused expression plastering his face.
"Typical," he muttered under his breath, picking back up the knife that Eddie had dropped to the counter, resuming chopping the onions. His eyes be damned.
By the time Eddie had come back into the kitchen, the onions had been finely sliced and diced, and Buck had moved onto the minced beef, preparing it on the stove.
"Find your phone?" he asked dryly, shooting Eddie a look. To his credit, he looked a little sheepish, taking a seat at the kitchen island once again.
"No. Turns out it was in my pocket all along," he replied back, looking across at Buck.
Buck just nodded, humming an inaudible response, before seasoning the beef.
"At least I know what to get you for your birthday next week," Eddie says. "Some goggles. And a face shield."
Buck laughed. "Can you at least get them customised for me? I take my kitchen appliances very seriously."
Eddie nodded. "I've noticed. You're taking this real seriously," he commented.
Buck shrugged, the conversation veering away from their usual easiness, and into something that felt more real.
"This was the one thing I had to help me through Tommy. And then Bobby."
Eddie hummed. "Bobby would be proud of you, Buck. And he'd definitely be glad that someone capable was cooking at the firehouse. I think he'd be turning in his grave if it was me or Chimney in charge of the kitchen."
Buck just about managed a laugh. It had become easier to talk about Bobby, recently. It still hurt - Buck thought it always would, but now when he heard his name, it didn't feel like the world was ending. There was just a slight pain in his chest, but it was countered by a strong, overwhelming surge of love and gratefulness that he'd ever crossed paths with Bobby Nash.
"I guess that's one thing I have to thank Tommy for. For unearthing my love of the kitchen," Buck mused.
Eddie shot him a sharp look. "The only decent thing that guy ever did," he muttered.
Buck was no stranger to Eddie's opinions on Tommy. More often than not, he agreed with all of them.
"Well - and he opened my eyes to the delicacies of the male gender," Buck pointed out. "Life changing."
Eddie choked on a laugh. "I mean - yeah. That too, I suppose. Still don't like him."
"Neither do I," Buck agreed quickly. "But - okay. Let's steer away from this topic. I don't particularly want to think about my ex boyfriend."
Eddie muttered a quick apology, and Buck was back stirring the minced beef around in the pan, the smell coating the kitchen.
"I can't believe Chris asked you to do this and he's sat on his console talking to his friends. It's like we're his personal servants," Eddie said, looking through the doorway where his son was animatedly chatting, whilst absolutely thrashing someone on Mario Kart.
"He's fifteen," Buck said, echoing Eddie's earlier words. "Let him live a little."
"Always the good cop," Eddie spoke under his breath, though Buck managed to catch it, and chucked the towel from earlier over at him, hitting him in the face.
"I heard that."
Eddie dropped the towel onto the counter, shooting a pointed look over at Buck. "Good. Means your hearing is still intact."
Buck laughed. "Just because I enjoy cooking doesn't mean I'm some type of grandad who wears knitted sweaters."
Eddie looked at him. "I mean...you do wear knitted sweaters."
"They're in fashion!"
"Mhm," Eddie said, standing up and heading over to the cabinet, retrieving some paprika, coming over to the stove.
Buck slapped his hand away immediately.
"Hey!"
"I just seasoned that," Buck snapped. "Do I need to remind you that Chris specifically asked me to make this?"
Eddie sighed. "No, I don't need reminding. I think I need to remind Chris where his loyalties lie, though."
Buck just laughed. "Chris's loyalties are exactly where they should be. Now - stop hovering. Make yourself useful and lay the table. It'll only be another twenty minutes."
"Chris!" Buck called out a while later, plating up the pasta. "Dinner's ready!"
"Yeah, okay - hang on!" came the reply from the living room.
Buck glanced at Eddie, who was grabbing three pasta bowls, and hovered in the doorway, next to him. "Five minutes."
"Minimum," Eddie agreed.
From the living room, Chris's voice drifted through again, clearer this time. "I know - I know. I'll be back on again later. I know, I'm sorry. I gotta go - my dads have called me for dinner."
Silence. Immediate silence.
From his position, Buck froze. He could tell that Eddie had, too.
And then, Eddie's head tilted, just slightly.
Neither of them looked at each other.
"...I'll be back later," Chris added, before his headset clicked off.
Footsteps followed.
Buck grabbed a plate.
Eddie picked up forks.
Both of them very busy. Very suddenly.
"Wow, Buck. This smells really good," Chris spoke as he walked in, bypassing both of them, heading straight for the table that Eddie had laid out a few moments previously.
"Yeah," Buck said quietly. "It's - er - the recipe. You sent me. Followed it to the tee."
Eddie nodded. "Food. Good - good food."
Chris frowned, looking between both of them. "Are you guys okay?"
"Yep."
"Fine."
Chris blinked, "...okay."
Buck and Eddie followed him to the table, sitting across from each other, with Chris at the head.
Plates were passed around. Buck poured water. Eddie adjusted the cutlery like it wasn't already perfectly straight.
Chris twirled the fork into the pasta and took a bite. Then another. "...this is really good. I knew you'd make it exactly like the video," he said, through chewing.
Buck lit up instantly. He was a sucker for praise - any and all forms, especially from Chris. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Chris nodded. "I knew you'd be able to. See, dad. Told you Buck would make it just right."
Eddie raised his eyebrows, looking at his son, before looking at Buck - something undecipherable in his expression. "Yeah, yeah."
"Dad probably would've burned the kitchen down," Chris continued, looking at Buck this time.
Buck laughed. "Your dad can cook, Chris."
"Barely," he spouted straight away. "You're much better. It's a good job you're here pretty much everyday. I love your cooking."
Buck and Eddie shared a look. One that definitely meant they were going to be talking about this later.
"Well, I love seeing you every day, too, Chris," was Buck's response, at the same time that Eddie started to speak.
"How was - uh. School?"
Chris looked at Eddie weirdly. "Fine."
"Just fine?" Eddie pushed, making a very non-subtle attempt to change the conversation. Even Buck cringed. Eddie needed saving.
"Yep."
"Nothing interesting happen?" Buck asked, jumping in as an attempt to help.
"Guys," Chris said slowly. "You never ask me this many questions."
Buck blinked. "We do."
"You don't."
"We - I - we care about your education," Eddie spoke, though he stumbled over his choice of words. It was as if he was trying to make a mess of this.
"Well, I'd hope so. You are my dad," Chris answered, and a small part of Eddie wished for his younger, cuter version of Chris to be sat across from him. But then it vanished. He was grateful for the teenager that Chris had grown into - and even more grateful that he'd come back to LA with him - especially after El Paso. So, Eddie just smiled at him.
"Always your number one fan, buddy," was his response.
Buck just watched them both - and despite the situation - despite what both him and Eddie had overheard, he was grateful that he was here right now. Sat with them, both, eating dinner. It was such a mundane thing - a normal, everyday type of situation, and yet - Buck felt like the luckiest person on the planet to have found them.
They slipped back into an easy rhythm, and both Eddie and Buck quit with the questions, laying off of Christopher, who continued to eat Buck's food as if he'd been starved for days.
Soon enough, all three plates were clean - Chris's exceptionally so, to the point that Buck would've guessed he'd licked it clean when he hadn't been looking.
"I'm gonna go back to playing Mario Kart," Chris spoke, and whilst Eddie would usually tell him to have some time away from it and help clean up, he didn't fight him on it today.
"Alright, bud. We'll have a game together later?"
"You bet," Chris replied as he made his way out of the kitchen, the door closing behind him.
It was just Buck and Eddie in the kitchen, now. So much passed between them, unspoken.
It was Buck who spoke first. "Well - I'm glad he enjoyed the food," he said, ignoring the rapid pounding of his heart against his chest. He knew they'd both heard what Chris had said.
My dads.
Dads.
Plural.
Not Dad and Buck.
Not Dad and his friend.
Dads.
As if the fact had been predetermined.
Eddie didn't respond straight away. He was still looking at the doorway Chris had disappeared through, like if he stared at it long enough, he couldn't rewind the last ten minutes and hear it differently.
He couldn't.
"Yeah," he spoke eventually, voice quieter than before. Almost a whisper. "He liked it."
Buck nodded, fiddling with the edge of his plate, like he suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands.
Silence stretched. Heavy. Not uncomfortable - not exactly.
"Kids say stuff," Buck tried again, softer this time. Less convincing. "He didn't - he didn't mean anything by it."
Eddie huffed out a breath. "That's the thing, though," he said. "Chris doesn't usually say stuff he doesn't mean,"
Buck stilled.
Eddie finally looked at him.
"Eddie -"
"You're here all the time. Cooking us dinner. Sleeping over. Playing Mario Kart. The day trips. School runs, I -"
"Eddie -" Buck tried again, but to no avail.
"I should've known, that it was going to be confusing for him," Eddie continued, rubbing his face.
Buck didn't say anything, now. Just listened to Eddie.
"He's already lost one parent. And then - after Kim - I - I can't do that to him again, I have to put him first -"
Buck shook his head. "Eddie, Chris comes first. I already know that, and I get it, and this has somehow spiralled into something it shouldn't have. I - I don't want to overstep. So - look. I'll go home, and I'll give you some space, and you - you and Chris should probably have a chat."
Eddie's eyebrows wrinkled. "What? No - no, Buck. That's not what I meant."
Buck shook his head again. "I don't want this to get any worse for him - or awkward for you. So - I'll go. I'll just go and say goodbye to Chris, and - and I'll see you at work in a few days."
Buck didn't give Eddie anytime to interject as he grabbed his coat, already opening the kitchen door, slipping through before his lack of impulse control allowed him to say something to Eddie he'd been burying for a long time now.
He spotted Chris on the couch, heading over and patting his shoulder.
"I'm heading off, buddy. I'll see you soon, yeah?"
Chris looked up briefly, unfazed. "Ok. See you tomorrow," he spoke, as if everything was normal. As if Buck's entire life hadn't been changed within the span of fifteen minutes.
He didn't have the heart to tell Chris that he, in fact, not be here tomorrow. Instead, he just grinned, and left out of the front door, closing it before he exhaled a shaky breath.
Eddie didn't move.
Not when Buck grabbed his coat.
Not when the door opened.
Not even when it closed.
The silence that followed felt...wrong. Too quiet. Too empty.
"Buck -" he started, but it was too late. The word fell flat in the empty kitchen.
Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face, pacing once, twice, like if he moved fast enough he could catch up to what had just happened.
That wasn't -
That wasn't what he'd meant. At all.
Eddie lasted exactly twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes of pacing in the kitchen.
Twenty minutes of staring at his phone.
Twenty minutes of almost texting Buck and then not.
Then -
"Chris, grab your coat. We're going out."
"Hey," Eddie said, standing on Maddie and Chimney's front porch, a disgruntled Chris behind him. "Can we come in?"
Maddie blinked at him from the other side of the door, before giving Chris a friendly smile. "Of course - come on in, guys."
Eddie stepped aside for Chris to go on in first, and then followed him in, shutting the door behind him.
Chimney - from the couch - took one look at Eddie's face, and then looked over at Chris. "Hey, buddy. Jee-Yun's in the garden, I reckon she'd love someone to keep her company."
Chris, thank god, didn't notice the tactic and nodded his head, making his way outside, leaving the adults - and baby Nash - alone in the living room.
"Okay, what's going on?" Chimney asked, looking between Eddie and Maddie.
Maddie looked back at her husband, looking completely clueless. Then, they both turned to Eddie.
"It's Buck," he spoke. "I messed up."
Maddie raised an eyebrow. "Messed up how?"
Eddie sighed, before starting to explain. "Chris - Chris was talking to his friends online when Buck called him for dinner - he was making this new recipe Chris had sent him, you see, and then he called us both his dads, and I -"
"Freaked out?" Maddie guessed, and Eddie nodded, scratching his head.
"Thing is - I didn't mean what I said in an accusatory way - I was thinking out loud. Processing out loud. And then - he left."
"What exactly did you say?" Maddie asked, taking a seat next to Chimney.
"Just that he was at mine all the time - which is true. That he stays over sometimes, he helps out with school runs -"
"He stays over?" Chimney asks, but Maddie slaps his thigh.
"And I said that it had to be confusing for Chris, especially after Shannon - and Kim, and -"
"He took that as his cue to leave." Maddie finished.
Eddie nodded.
"Well - no offence, Eddie, but can you blame him?"
Eddie stared at Maddie. It wasn't a cruel tone - not exactly.
"I didn't mean -"
"I know you didn't," Maddie cut in gently, but firmly. "That's not the point."
Eddie's jaw tightened. "Then what is the point?"
"The point is what Buck heard," Chimney said, surprisingly measured for once. "Not what you meant."
Eddie let out a frustrated breath, pacing once across the room. "I - I don't - I just said that Chris comes first."
"Yeah," Maddie nodded. "And Buck already knows that. So when you say it like that, in that moment, after Chris calls you both his dads?" She tilted her head. "It sounds like you're reminding him of his place."
Eddie stopped. "...his place?" he repeated.
Maddie's expression softened. "Eddie...Buck already feels like he's on the outside of things half the time. Like he's one step away from being too much, or not enough. He got a lot of that from Tommy -"
Eddie's face wrinkled up in disgust at the mention of Tommy yet again.
"You're saying he's confusing Chris?" She shook her head slightly. "That's going to land as you don't belong here like you think you do."
Eddie wasn't even thinking when the words barrelled out of him. "But he does! And I want him to, I really do -"
He paused. Stopped talking.
Both Maddie and Chimney were staring at him. Chimney's mouth was wide open, and even Maddie looked surprised at the outburst, before a small, knowing smile graced her lips.
"Do you care for him?" Maddie asks, Eddie's eyes landing on her.
"Of course I do, but what -"
"Are you..." she struggles to find the words. "...inclined towards him?"
Eddie scratches his head. "I like it better when he's around, sure. But what -"
"Do you think about him when he's not around?"
"Maddie, he literally showed up at our doorstep because he left Eddie's house early. What do you think?" Chimney asked his wife, and even he, too, looked confused.
"Maddie, I'm struggling to understand what this has to do with -"
"Are his concerns your concerns?" Maddie asked, her eyes boring directly into his own.
"Well - yeah. I'm pissed off at myself that I made him think he wasn't welcome in my house."
"Is his happiness at least as important to you as yours?"
"Jesus, Maddie," Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Well?" she pressed.
"Yes, yeah. Of course I care if he's happy."
"Do you see a future with him, Eddie?"
Eddie closed his eyes, waiting for the tug of chest pain he always had when he thought about a future with someone.
Ana.
Marisol.
He waited.
And waited.
But it never came.
He opened his eyes, noticing they were slightly wet. He'd teared up.
"Eddie?" Chimney asked softly.
"I need to go. Can you watch Chris?" he asked, wiping away at his eyes.
"Where are you -" Chimney started.
"He's good here. Go," Maddie urged him, and it was all the encouragement he needed.
Eddie was out of the door in seconds. His car keys were already in his hands, and before he knew it, he was sprinting to his truck. He didn't want to waste another minute. Another minute where Buck thought he was on the outside -
No, Eddie thought. Buck was in the centre. Of his life - Chris' life - him.
Eddie wasn't Eddie without Buck, and he hated that it had taken nearly losing him to realise it.
Do you care for him?
Eddie slammed the truck door closed behind him.
Are you...inclined towards him?
He started the engine, pulling out into the road.
Do you think about him when he's not around?
Lights flashed by as he whizzed down the road, traffic lights and stop signs blurring into one. he was in a daze. He needed to get to Buck, to talk to him.
Are his concerns your concerns?
Left. Right. Straight on. Left. Eddie knew the route off by heart. He was only three minutes out.
Is his happiness at least as important to you as yours?
He hadn't even thought about what he was going to say to him yet, but that seemed like a minor issue. All he needed was to get to his place, to see him - talk to him - apologise.
Do you see a future with him?
God, yes he did.
He parked the truck on Buck's driveway - just behind his own, and jumped out of the door, taking a deep breath. Buck's lights were on, even though his curtains were drawn. Eddie imagined him inside, sitting on the sofa, a bottle of beer in his hand, probably overthinking Eddie's words as a sign that he didn't care, didn't want him in his -
"Eddie?"
Eddie looked up, and there he was. Not wallowing in pity indoors, but outside, a trash bag in his hand, staring at Eddie curiously. "Buck," he breathed out, heart pounding.
"What are you doing here? Where's Chris?" he asked, his first thought about his son - of course it was. Warmth spread through Eddie's chest.
This.
This was what Chris deserved. Someone who would also put him first, over everything. Buck had been doing that years. Had chosen Chris over and over again - even when it was difficult. Even when Eddie hadn't asked him to.
"Chris is with Maddie and Chimney. He's okay," Eddie replied. "I came here to talk to you."
Buck just stared. Then, as if he'd remembered, he hauled the trash bag into the dumpster. "Okay, then. Do you want to come in?"
Eddie nodded, and followed Buck to the front door, trying to steady his breathing.
He could smell Buck's cologne - something so small, yet so familiar. How had he not realised any of this before tonight?
Buck closed the door behind them. The click echoed. Louder than it should've. Neither of them moved.
Eddie stood just inside the hallway, hands clenched slightly at his sides, like he hadn't quite caught up with the fact he'd actually made it here.
Buck lingered by the door for a second longer than necessary, then turned, crossing his arms.
"Okay," he said, trying to act casual. "You said you wanted to talk."
Eddie nodded. Opened his mouth. But nothing came out.
Buck huffed out a quiet breath, already filling the silence. "Look, Eddie, if this is about earlier, you don't -"
"No," Eddie cut in quickly. "Don't - don't do that. Let me say my piece," Eddie spoke firmly, shaking his head. "I was thinking out loud, back then. About me. About what I could get wrong. Not about you."
Buck stared at him, "what do you mean? You said -"
"I know what I said," Eddie interjected. "Chris does come first - but I didn't mean that it was a choice between him and you. I meant - I meant that I wanted to go about it the right way."
Buck's voice cracked when he spoke next. "Go about what in the right way?"
Eddie looked at him. Really looked at him. "You. Me. Us. This - whatever the hell this is. I don't know about you, Buck - but, the lines seemed to have blurred between us. I don't know when, I don't know how, but I do know that I didn't mind when they did. And it was wrong - not because of you, or us, but because of Chris. I need to put him first, and it shouldn't have gotten to the point where he called us both dad before I'd even talked to him about it. That's - that's why I got so defensive. It's nothing to do with you. It's me."
Buck tilted his head slightly. "Okay."
"It's not you overstepping," Eddie continued. "It's not you confusing Chris. It's not you doing anything wrong."
Buck's shoulders dropped a fraction.
"And it's not something I want to walk away from. When you're over - at ours, everything feels right. Like everything has clicked into place. And when you're not, it's like -"
"- something's missing," Buck finishes softly.
"Yeah," Eddie whispers. "I panicked, Buck. I panicked, and I'm sorry." A step closer. "I heard what he said," Eddie went on. "And instead of thinking about what it meant, I went straight to what could go wrong. Because I've messed up with him so many times, I can't let that kid down again."
"Eddie, you've only ever done what's right for Chris -" Buck tried to say, but Eddie stopped him.
"It doesn't change the fact that when I heard him call us both dad - it didn't feel wrong," he said. "Hearing him say that." Buck stilled. Eddie held his gaze. "It should've, right?" he added, almost to himself. "I should've been like - 'no, that's not what this is.' But I wasn't."
Buck swallowed. "...no?" he asked.
Eddie shook his head. "No."
"Eddie," Buck said, barely above a whisper.
"I don't have all the answers," Eddie admitted. "I don't know what this looks like yet - and God only knows how terrible I am in relationships. I'd understand if you wanted me to explain to Chris that that's not what this is, that -"
Buck's "no!" was immediate.
Eddie perked up - just ever so slightly. "No?"
"Y'know, after Tommy - you were the only person who could bring me peace of mind. It was as if I was drowning, and you were a breath of fresh air. I've never encountered anyone who's been able to do that for me."
Eddie remained silent, allowing Buck to speak freely.
"I thought - if I felt like that with you, why not chase that feeling? Why not spend more time with someone who could make me feel so...free? I loved spending time with you and Chris - both of you, and for a while, it was enough. But then I started to realise that actually, I wasn't just feeling free. I finally felt as if I belonged. With you and Chris. In that house."
Eddie's eyes started to prick with tears. "You do," he urged. "You do belong. With us. With me."
Buck finally allowed a smile to grow on his face, and Eddie felt as if he was fucking floating.
"Yeah?"
Eddie nodded. Another step closer. And another. "I want everything with you, Buckley. Home cooked dinners, day trips, school runs - I want it all. I want you to be the person I come home to, to wake up next to. And I am so fucking sorry it's taken me this long to realise it."
Buck exhaled - shakily. As if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was, in fact, dreaming.
"I want it all with you too, Eddie," he said quietly, the pair of them now so close, their foreheads were nearly touching.
Eddie's hand came up to Buck's face, gently holding his cheek. "Is this okay?"
"More than okay," Buck breathed. "This is everything."
And with that, Buck closed the distance, his lips finding their way to Eddie's, connecting in a way like never before. It was as if they'd been searching for his for a lifetime, and now they'd found them, they never wanted to let go.
Eddie was the one who deepened the kiss, much to Buck's surprise, though he was more than happy to follow his lead.
Pure ecstasy exploded throughout Buck, the hairs on his arms standing up to attention, his knees threatening to buckle.
Eddie Diaz had wrecked him. Ruined him.
By the time Eddie had pulled away - both men were panting. Eddie was staring at him as if he was a starved man - despite having eaten Buck's food a mere hour ago.
"If I'd have known that was how it was going to feel kissing you, I would've done it a long time ago," he spoke, lips slightly swollen.
Buck laughed - no, giggled was more accurate. It was like he was a teenager again.
"I've kissed men before, but holy shit, that was on another level entirely," he breathed, still trying to catch his breath.
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Good enough to hopefully deter you from kissing anyone else ever again."
Fiercely protective.
Oh, Buck was so ruined.
"What now?" he asked, despite not wanting to leave this moment.
"Now," Eddie spoke calmly, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, "we talk to Christopher."
All three of them were sat round the kitchen table in the Diaz household. The exact same seats they'd been in at dinner. Chris at the head, Buck and Eddie either side.
"You guys are still acting weird," Chris spoke, looking between them both. "What's going on?"
"Well, bud - me and Buck have something we wanna talk to you about," Eddie started, sharing a fond look with Buck across the table.
"...okay," Chris said slowly. "Shoot."
"How would you feel if he moved in? Permanently?" Eddie asked, bracing himself.
"He's pretty much been living here, anyway," was all Christopher said.
"Well - yes," Eddie started. "But instead of him taking the couch, he'd be - well, sharing my room. With me."
They both waited for Chris' response. Buck wasn't sure he was breathing.
"Wait. You're telling me that you weren't just sneaking into his room when you thought I was asleep?" Chris asked, looking at Buck now.
Buck spluttered. "Wait - Chris, what? You thought I was sneaking into your dad's room?"
Chris shrugged. "Well - yeah? Weren't you?"
"No, buddy. He wasn't. But - well -"
Chris' eyes narrowed slightly. Not suspicious - but instead evaluating.
"Okay," he said slowly. "So let me get this straight."
Buck braced.
"You guys have been acting like this for years," Chris continued, gesturing between them, "and now you're telling me something's actually changing?"
Buck blinked. " - when you put it like that -"
"It sounds ridiculous," Chris finished.
Eddie huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, bud. I guess it does."
Chris nodded, like that confirmed something. Then - "Cool."
Buck blinked again. "...cool?" he repeated.
Chris shrugged. "Yeah. I mean - I already thought you were together."
Buck choked.
Eddie coughed into his fist.
"You - what?" Buck spluttered.
Chris looked at him like this was obvious. "You literally spend all your time here. You cook together. You argue like an old married couple. You fall asleep watching TV together."
Buck's ears burned.
Chris turned to Eddie. "Also, you look at him like that."
Eddie froze. "Like what?"
Chris didn't miss a beat. "Like you love him."
Eddie didn't speak. Couldn't, for a second.
Chris looked between them again, frowning slightly now. "...wait. You do, right?"
Eddie swallowed. "Yeah, bud. I do."
Buck's head snapped towards him, a small smile creeping onto his face.
"Buck. Do you love dad?"
Buck didn't hesitate before nodding his head, and replying to Chris.
"Nearly as much as I love you, bud."
Chris nodded once again, satisfied with his answer. "Okay, then. I just want you to promise me one thing."
Buck nodded, ready to promise him the world if he asked.
"Don't leave. Even if things get hard. Or sad. Please don't leave," Chris asked, and Buck could feel tears swelling in his eyes, as he burst up from his chair, going over to Chris and wrapping his arms around him.
"I'm not going anywhere, Chris. I promise."
"Good. Because tomorrow morning, I want pancakes."