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It’s a gorgeous sunny day when Buck hosts the First Annual 118 Secular Easter Extravaganza at his house. A few white wispy clouds float high in the sky but do nothing to cast shadows. There’s a little bit of breeze in the air, carrying the sharp scent of the ocean and the hint of smoke from the tiny, contained fires of barbecues from across the city. It’s as perfect a day as anyone can ask for in Los Angeles.
Eddie came by hours earlier to help Buck finish decorating the backyard, even though Buck had insisted he had it all taken care of. He always insists. They’d shoved all of Buck’s workout equipment into the driveway to make room for a dozen 3-foot-tall pastel Easter eggs, giant plastic bunnies, and a mess of brightly colored fake flowers that looked straight out of Alice in Wonderland.
Buck added egg-shaped twinkly lights to his patio, cheerful garlands shaped like carrots to his hedges, and cardboard bunnies and ducks with the faces cut out so that the kids could take photos with their faces shoved into the empty spaces. He even made little Easter baskets for the youngest kids, although Eddie wonders if there isn’t one hiding in the house for Christopher, too.
“What are you going to do with all of this after Easter?” Eddie had asked, hands on his hips, surveying the transformed backyard. It looks impressive, and it makes him think about Halloween, and Christmas, and all of the memories they could build here.
“Put it in storage for next year,” Buck had answered easily, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He doesn’t even have a garage.
Now, Buck’s backyard and home are bustling with the 118 family – the younger kids running around in various levels of Easter Best, the first generation watching with fond amusement, the parents sitting back with drinks and letting the older kids play unpaid babysitter.
It’s nice. It’s loud and a little chaotic and someone’s probably going to get a skinned knee before the end of the day and it’s nice. Eddie wants for more days like this.
He’s in the kitchen refilling his plate from the buffet for the second time. Buck had wanted to cook everything himself but had been overridden by the rest of the team, telling him it was unreasonable and to let them help provide the food. Buck’s kitchen counters are laden with scalloped potatoes and prosciutto-wrapped asparagus and cheddar biscuits and roasted carrots. A mess of sides that don’t go together and who cares anyway. Buck had made the lemon-blueberry muffins and the coconut Easter cake. Eddie had brought himself, Christopher, and various pitchers of agua fresca. He wasn’t about to put his unremarkable cooking prowess up against Maddie and Karen’s.
Athena had brought the prime rib, telling them not to make too big a deal over it, since she’d gotten it from her and Bobby’s favorite restaurant instead of making it herself. Buck had hugged her so tightly Eddie’d worried about bruised ribs.
An odd clacking of plastic has Eddie turning around, plate still in hand. His eyes land on Buck standing near the doorway and a surprised laugh barks out of him.
“What is happening here?” Eddie asks, eyes roaming up and down Buck’s figure.
Buck looks down at himself. He's wearing a plain black t-shirt, and he's fastened dozens of plastic Easter eggs to the fabric with tape and string. He’s also wearing a bunny ears headband.
“Instead of doing a boring egg hunt,” Buck explains, “the kids are going to chase me and try to grab the eggs off my shirt. Like tag football.” Buck’s smiling so widely his eyes nearly disappear. The bunny ears are made of cheap white faux fur and shiny pink satin. Eddie wants to pet them.
“Is there anything inside the eggs?” Eddie asks.
Buck grabs one – bright yellow – and gives it a little shake. Something inside rattles dully. “Some have candy. Some have money. Like dollar bills. There’s one golden egg. Whoever gets that one gets a super special prize.”
“What’s the prize?” Eddie can’t see the golden egg.
Buck shrugs. “Haven’t figured that out yet.” He looks at Eddie with his big blue eyes and his stupid bunny ears and his shoulders sag, just a little. “Is it stupid?”
Eddie shakes his head. His chest feels tight. “No, no it’s fun. The kids’ll love it.”
The kids do love it. Eddie watches from the patio as Jee-Yun, Mara, and Denny chase Buck around the backyard, dodging decorations and attempting to snatch the swinging Easter eggs off him. Baby Nash toddles along the edge, perfectly adorable in a purple suit with ducks on his shirt, kept out of danger of being knocked over by Maddie. He’ll get his chance soon enough.
Denny had resisted at first, claiming to be too old for such childish things, but after listening to the peals of laughter from Jee and Mara, and the cajoling from the other adults, he’d finally joined in. Which did mean that Buck actually had to try a little harder to avoid getting caught.
Chimney sets up a blockade near the cardboard cut-outs, trapping Buck long enough for Mara to snag blue and green eggs off his shirt.
“Cheater!” Buck yells, laughing as he twists away before Denny can tackle him to the grass.
“You can’t keep this up, old man!” Ravi yells from the sidelines and Buck flips him the bird.
“Evan!” Maddie chastises.
“Sorry!” Buck yells back.
Hen, Karen, and Athena sit together on patio furniture Eddie’s pretty sure Buck bought just for this afternoon. Laughing, sharing plates of food, sipping drinks. Eddie worried, at first, that after they lost Bobby they’d lose Athena too, but he’d been wrong. He was happy to be so wrong.
A shriek of delighted laughter – pure sugary joy – pierces the air and Eddie looks over to see Jee-Yun triumphantly holding up a bright pink Easter egg. Denny has his arms locked around one of Buck’s legs while Harry holds Buck’s hands behind his back.
“This is not in the rules,” Buck bellows. Or tries to. He’s giggling so hard he can hardly stay standing. “Eddie, tell them. Tell them about chain of command.”
Happiness – joy – bubbles up in Eddie, bright and effervescent. He’s been feeling it more these days, more than he has in years, but it’s still such a novel thing it can be hard to name.
“You doing okay?”
Eddie looks over. Maddie’s appeared next to him, Baby Nash now propped on her hip. He’s got grass stains on his knees and a smear of something that’s probably applesauce on his collar. His cheeks are so chubby it’s hard not to pinch them.
“Hey, little man,” Eddie coos, reaching out to let Baby Nash grip his finger. He missed this age with Christopher, and he still hates himself for it, and he wonders if there’s ever a true redemption to be found.
“Eddie?”
He can feel Maddie staring at him. “I’m great,” he says. He looks up to meet her gaze. Her big brown eyes are so different from Buck’s, but the care in them, the concern, is just the same. “I’m good,” Eddie reassures. “This is a good day.”
Maddie finally smiles at him. “It would be better if you’d hold this guy for me so I can go get more food.”
Eddie grins, says, “gimme,” and lets Maddie bundle Baby Nash into his arms.
It’s been a minute and a few years since he’s held a kid this age, but the muscle memory is there. Nash squirms before settling, one hand clutching tight the collar of Eddie’s shirt while he looks around for Maddie.
“Don’t worry kid, I got you,” Eddie mutters, rocking on his feet a little. “I do know how to do this.”
Eddie turns back to the yard in time to see Buck fairly skipping over to where Christopher is sitting with May by the fire pit.
“Bet you can’t get me,” Buck teases Christopher, getting close enough that Chris can snag an orange Easter egg off his shirt without having to run him down across the uneven grass. Christopher laughs, shaking the egg towards Buck in a gentle taunting sort of gesture before shoving it in his pocket.
God he’s such a good dad.
The thought catches Eddie off guard, so sudden he almost stumbles on still feet. His heart stutter-steps, racing hard to catch up with the emotions flooding through him.
joy confusion adoration reverence alarm love
Eddie swallows. Grips Baby Nash tighter to his chest. Everything feels too big inside of him.
love love love
The patio might be cracking apart beneath his feet.
Eddie’s seen Buck with Christopher for nearly a decade, caring for him, loving him immediately; he put Buck in his will for fuck’s sake, and it’s never felt like this. So overwhelming. So miraculous. So fucking enchanting. So dangerous.
As if called inexorably by the tumult roiling through Eddie, Buck leaves Christopher and comes over, his loping gait bringing him across the yard too fast for Eddie to have time to pull himself together.
Buck’s sweating and smiling so brightly it hurts to look at and for the first time (it can’t possibly be the first time) Eddie thinks he’s fucking beautiful.
“You’ve got a baby,” Buck proclaims, immediately reaching out to cup Nash’s head with his hand. Nash smiles a gummy baby smile and twists in Eddie’s grip, trying to look at Buck.
“Your sister needed food,” Eddie explains, like it needs an explanation.
“Can’t let either of you get hangry,” Buck replies, and then he looks up from Nash and there’s sunlight in his eyelashes and an errant piece of plastic grass from an Easter basket stuck in his hair and Eddie doesn’t know what the fuck is happening in his belly, his chest, but it’s a lot.
“No one got the golden egg yet,” Buck says, probably because Eddie’s standing there with his mouth half-open, holding a baby that isn’t his, trying to decide if he’s having a midlife crisis at 35.
“Have you picked the grand prize yet?” Eddie finally asks.
Buck shakes his head. An errant curl flops on his forehead and Eddie almost reaches for it until he remembers he doesn’t do that, and that he’s holding a baby.
“Not yet.” Buck ducks his head a little. “But I have an idea.”
It feels like flirting. With anyone else it might be flirting. But it isn’t, it can’t be. Because they don’t do that.
Eddie’s mouth is dry. This is ridiculous. This is Buck.
This is Buck hosting an Easter party for the entire 118 family just because he wanted to, buying too many decorations and baking cake and rearranging his entire backyard so everyone would have a place.
This is Buck letting the kids chase him around, taking the brunt of their energy and excitement so everyone else can relax while building new traditions and being the brother, the uncle, the friend everyone needs.
Being a partner.
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters.
“Hey!” Buck puts his hands over Nash’s ears. “He’s right here. Let him have a birthday before we start teaching him the big words.”
“Sorry.”
A streak of pink and lavender flashes by, laughter following half a second later.
“Hey!” Buck yells, twisting and reaching for Mara, but far too late to catch her. “Cheaters! All of you. I was clearly out of the field of play!”
Mara’s holding another Easter egg triumphantly, and she takes it over to the corner of the lawn where the kids have begun to gather with their spoils of the day.
Eddie couldn’t be grossly infatuated. “That was just good strategy,” he says.
Buck turns back to him. “They’re all being raised into hooligans,” Buck teases. “Except for you,” he tells Baby Nash, before leaning in to kiss the top of Nash’s head. “You’re perfect.”
Buck’s suddenly so close Eddie can smell his shampoo and the sharp bite of sweat and he’s sure he’s never thought about either of those things before today. But he’s had a couple drinks, and he’s been out in the sun all day and Nash is a comfortable, familiar weight in his arms.
“Still got the golden egg,” Buck mentions. He hasn’t stepped back, not enough.
Eddie drops his gaze back to Buck’s shirt, now with significantly fewer Easter eggs than earlier. He didn’t see it before, and he wonders if it was always there, but he sees it now: a shiny golden egg, smaller than the others, taped to Buck’s left chest.
“Eddie,” Buck prompts, and his voice had dropped low, private.
Eddie adjusts Nash so he can reach out and pluck the little plastic toy off Buck’s shirt. The tape rips loudly and Nash immediately reaches for it with a chubby baby hand, but Eddie keeps it out of his reach. Surprisingly, there’s no weight to the egg. He doesn’t know what he expected, but the plastic is warm from the sun.
“Feels a little empty,” Eddie says, and then Buck pushes in close again, sandwiching Baby Nash between them, and kisses him. Soft and quick. Almost chaste.
Eddie’s heart thuds in his throat and he tries to follow Buck’s lips, but Buck’s already pulled back too far. Eddie swallows down the embarrassing noise he fears he’s about to make.
Remotely, Eddie’s aware of nearly every friend he has in this world watching them.
“Was that—” Eddie licks his lips. Blood rushes too loud in his ears. He worried he might be gripping Nash too hard. “Was that the super special prize?”
Buck’s grinning, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. He doesn’t seem nervous at all. “Could be.” Buck reaches out, settles his hand on Eddie’s elbow. His palm is hot on Eddie’s bare skin.
Eddie thinks about gunshots and birthday parties and always turning around to find Buck right behind him. Bad dates and grocery store fights and wanting nothing more than to finally want something. Someone.
“Feel like maybe I missed it,” Eddie says. He wants to touch Buck’s smiling mouth, pull on those ridiculous bunny ears, but he’s still got Nash getting heavy in one arm and Buck holding his other elbow.
Buck blinks slowly. “Didn’t miss it,” he says and leans in again, so close his next words ghost across Eddie’s lips. “This prize doesn’t have an expiration date.”
Eddie does make an embarrassing noise into the next kiss, but it’s okay. It’s a beautiful spring day, everyone he cares about here together, and Buck decided to kiss him. It’s all going to be okay.