Chapter Text
Kissing Tommy is fine.
Okay no, that's probably not what he should be thinking about kissing his boyfriend.
It's great. Really.
I mean, come on, he's finally being who he really is, kissing a man. He's kissing Tommy, his boyfriend, in his living room.
It's date night and Buck has been looking forward to spending some time with Tommy. He brought out the big guns, deep cleaning the loft, setting up a playlist with love songs from the 90s and recreating the curry Tommy's been talking about non-stop since he tried it two weeks ago at the new Indian restaurant down the street. He even dressed up a bit, wearing a blue button-down which hugs his broad shoulders nicely. And Tommy sure seemed impressed by his effort, as they barely made it through the entrée (tomato soup) when he suddenly leaned in with a whispered "you look hot in that" and started kissing him.
So, things are going really well. Who would've thought. And a month ago, he would’ve kissed Tommy back a lot more enthusiastically. Of course, a month ago he had no idea that he was in love with Eddie Diaz.
That thought alone sends a shiver down his back. Tommy must've felt it. He breaks their kiss by leaning back slightly, smiling in what he seems to deem a seductive way.
"You wanna move this to the bedroom?"
No.
"Yes."
Tommy looks pleased at that answer, squeezing Buck's hip. Buck sends him a little smile back, hoping it looks more natural than it feels.
See? He's really happy in his mature relationship. And he's totally not picturing dark brown eyes or soft brown strands of hair and big rough hands -
"Evan?"
With a slight startle, Buck snaps back to his living room and to his boyfriend - Tommy - who already made his way halfway up the stairs.
"Y-yes?"
"Are you coming or what?"
"Um, yes,” Buck hesitates. He points back to the kitchen counter. “I just thought that maybe we want to eat first, I made that curry you liked - "
The exasperated sigh is enough to cut him off.
"Evan. You know I won't like it the way you made it," Tommy huffs.
Buck blinks up to his boyfriend who looks down on him in a way a kid looks at a bug it caught in a glass. Slightly bored and disgusted.
"What? Why?"
"I liked it because it had chicken in it. And since your weird fixation with that pig from the petting zoo last week - "
"Pigsley Hamilton. Chris named him." Despite his irritation he feels himself fighting a smile at the memory. Since Chris is a teenager now, their weekly trips to the zoo have become less and less. So he always treasures moments like that, where the teen was happy to spend some time with him. "And it was not - "
"I don't eat vegan food. That’s something little girls do when they try to be cute."
Buck pauses at that, confused. "That’s not - ” he exhales, willing the anger rising in him away and trying a different approach. He forces a sweet smile on his face.
“You haven't even tried it. It's just the chicken that's missing. Maybe if you - "
"Evan. Don't ruin this," Tommy warns.
There it was. The chastising tone in Tommy's voice that makes Buck feel as if he was five again, talking to his mother who would say the exact same thing whenever Buck had dared to make his presence known.
The tone that makes it hard to keep his smile on.
"Sorry. I just - well, it took me a really long time to cook it." He struggles to not let the disappointment in his voice show.
His boyfriend just shrugs.
"You'll know better next time. Now come on, I'm not hungry anyway. At least not for food". With that, Tommy grins and turns to continue up the stairs, oblivious to the way Buck falters in on himself. With a heavy sigh, Buck takes a step toward to follow Tommy up the staircase.
The ringing of his phone makes them both halt.
What a man, what a man, what a man. What a mighty good man.
"I thought you said you put it in do-not-disturb mode?" Tommy asks, turning back to Buck. His expression souring yet again.
He did. He was reachable only to his emergency contacts. Chris and Eddie.
And that is Eddie's ringtone.
"Must've forgotten," he mumbles.
Tommy musters him with slightly narrowed eyes.
"That's Eddie, isn't it?"
Buck chooses not to confirm what they both know to be true, instead turns to grab his phone from where it is still plugged in on the kitchen counter.
"How come he has that as his ringtone? I bet you have mine still set in default mode," Tommy frowns, as he slowly makes his way back to the kitchen, probably to listen in on the call.
And yes, that is a question the Buck-of-a-month-ago couldn't have answered, but now that he does know the answer to it, he isn't so sure that that's something Tommy should be made aware of.
Let's see what we know.
Fact: Buck has a boyfriend of seven months.
Fact: Buck is in love with Eddie (consciously for about a month, subconsciously maybe since the day he met him.)
Problem: Eddie is not his boyfriend.
But did him being in love with his best friend really come as such a surprise to anyone? I mean, of course he is in love with Eddie.
Have you seen that man?
Wait - let me rephrase that.
Have you seen that man in tournouts?
Or in literally anything.
Or nothing.
Because Buck has.
(Hey not like that, they have to shower at work, it's fine.)
Not only is he the hottest man alive, but he's also funny, patient and kind. And dad to the most adorable kid in the world.
So really no one could blame Buck for being in love with Mr. Perfect. Buck’s surprised not everyone else in L.A. is.
And of course he can't be blamed for being in a relationship with Mr. Not-so-Perfect-and-older-and-have-I-mentionend-not-Eddie.
Because Eddie is straight.
And his best friend.
And if he's really honest to himself, totally out of his league. So he should move on, right? He could have ended his relationship with Tommy the second he figured out why he's been so jealous of the friendship between Tommy and Eddie. He thought it was about Tommy.
It was never about Tommy.
Ever since the day a month ago when Eddie had wandered into the kitchen while Buck was prepping some snacks and asked him to tell him more about the history of refrigeration, while the rest of the team (and Tommy) were sitting in the living room watching a basketball game, the thought of oh, I love him has wedged itself deep into Buck’s brain.
It only made Buck hold on harder to the relationship with Tommy.
Because Eddie would never love him the way he wanted him to. And isn't that just...greedy? He knows Eddie loves him. Eddie protects him, has his back, would give him his son in the event of - if Eddie - (no don't think about it). And he just has to have more. He wants everything Eddie has to offer, wants his attention on him alone always, can't stand it when Eddie spends his time with other people, looks at other people -
I must be suffocating him.
So that is it. He can't cling himself to Eddie and beg him to love him more. Buck knows it's shitty of him to let that be the reason he's with Tommy. To protect Eddie Diaz from his neediness.
So he doubled his efforts to be a better boyfriend. Constantly ignoring the way his inner voice screams at him that he’s a bad person for stringing Tommy along. And the more dangerous, quieter whisper of what if.
And hey, maybe someday he'll even learn to love Tommy. It could happen.
He just needs a little bit more time. And pretend a little harder.
So, instead of answering his boyfriend, Buck picks up the phone.
"Hello?"
Okay so maybe dumping his boyfriend on their date night to drive across town to help out his best friend is not considered to be entirely platonic. But it is an emergency. A dinner emergency. And he can't have his boys going hungry, can he?
Not his boys. The Diazes.The Diaz boys-
Darn it.
He grips the steering wheel a little bit tighter, feeling the tension that has started to creep in since he left the loft all the way to his shoulders. Tommy's not been happy about him leaving.
"Diaz whistles and you run to him like a dog" an angry Tommy sneered as Buck rummaged through his coat to find the car keys.
But every thought of Tommy flees his mind as Buck turns left onto Bedford Street. He arrives at home the house, parks and almost hurries the way to the porch, keys already in his hand/ in hands. As he unlocks the door and steps into the household, he feels himself finally relax. Taking a deep breath, Buck relishes at the familiar scent of EddieChrisHome and-
Something burnt?
"Eddie?" He calls out, slipping out of his shoes ("No shoes in the house, Buck!") and making his way to the kitchen.
"Buck."
No matter how long it's been since they've seen each other - ten minutes or ten hours (not days, never days) - seeing Eddie again settles something deep within him, as if his whole being has been gravitating toward him. His anchor point.
Wow, Buck. Keep it in.
Still he can't help but relax further upon seeing Eddie in his kitchen, the vibrant lightning of the setting sun illuminating the scene.
Eddie's eyes are soft and his hair is slightly unkempt, as if he'd repeatedly run his hands through them. Buck's eyes drift down his face - he hurriedly skips over the way Eddie’s arms look in the black tank top - to the apron Eddie's wearing. It must be new, since he's never seen it before and he knows the inventory of this kitchen like his own backyard. His gaze catches on the way the fabric stretches across Eddie's chest and - the apron has something written on it.
Kiss the Cook.
Buck must've made some kind of sound, unable to tear his eyes from the letters on Eddie's chest. Noticing his stare, Eddie looks down on himself.
"Oh yeah, that's the new apron Chim gifted me after I told him that I wanted to learn how to cook," Eddie explains. "He said you could use it too, since you're always at my place."
Buck will have to kill Chimney. There's no way around it. Not since he overheard Buck complaining to Maddie how frustratingly hot he found the way Eddie looked while wearing the climbing equipment. The teasing has been non-stop.
Yeah. He has to go. Even if that meant having to leave the country, because Maddie would surely try to hunt him down.
"You alright there, bud?"
Ah yes, he's still staring. Hastingly, Buck tears his eyes from the apron up to Eddie's face, mustering up a - what he hopes looks like - teasing grin on his own face.
"Could ask you the same, man. Why does it smell like a bonfire in here? What did you burn?"
At that, Eddie lets out a long-suffering sigh, jerking his head in direction to the frying pan on the stove.
"I tried to make dinner.” He runs a hand over his face, defeated. “It - didn't end well. Chris threatened to call 9-1-1 on me. I had to promise him to call you and ask for help because apparently I'm a 'danger to society' and will 'poison us all'," Eddie mimics his teen son surprisingly well. "I mean, I can't really blame him,” he admits and gestures towards the stove. “That was supposed to be porridge."
Buck takes a quick glance into the pan, discovering something that could only be described as lava-like.
"Okay," he deadpans. "Why are you making porridge in a frying pan?"
"I thought it would go quicker," Eddie shrugs.
"Porridge takes like 10 minutes. How much quicker do you want this to be?"
"Hey, did you come here to judge me? Because I already got a moody teenager for that," Eddie huffs. "I thought you wanted to help.” Despite the affront in his voice Buck can see the amused glitter in Eddie’s eyes.
"Well, why can't it be both? And don't worry, I've brought you guys some leftover curry, so let's eat before we take care of whatever it is you created over there," Buck says, taking two big tupperwares from the bag he brought in with him.
"Thanks, Buck." The relief in Eddie's voice is tangible.
Buck sends him a sweet smile, moving to the living room where Chris is lounging on the couch, his switch in his hands.
"Hey kid. How are you holding up?” He sets the food onto the table. “Heard you survived a poison and arson attempt from your dad. Between earthquake and tsunami, how bad was it?" He makes his way over to the teen.
"I would say it was about as bad as the car ride home from when we all went camping and you and dad got sprayed by that skunk," Chris responds without looking up from his game.
Buck chuckles and ruffles through Chris’ hair, which he begrudgingly accepts for about five seconds before batting his hand away.
Chris lets himself droop even more onto the couch. "You should have seen it, Buck. Dad was like a mad scientist creating a new element. When he told me to bring him a hammer and chisel I thought I would have to call poison control and homeland security.”
Buck feels a wide grin spread across his face and a warm feeling bubbling in his chest. How he missed that kid. Even though they see each other almost every day. He doesn't want to miss a single moment.
He always thought he would mourn the kid Chris has been as he turned into a teen and of course, in some way he does. He often thinks back to the wide, toothy grin, the excited ‘Buck!’ he had been greeted with whenever he entered the Diaz household, the long hugs and bedtime stories.
But he gets to meet a new side of Chris, the admittedly moody, but funny young adult, so intelligent and confident. And just when he thought he couldn’t love him more, he does.
And sometimes, the kid in him still shines through, whenever Chris asks Buck silly questions that pop randomly into his mind, when they team up against his dad or even in the way he sometimes looks at Buck, a small smile on his face and a simple ‘love you, Buck’ being muttered.
Being a part of Christopher Diaz's life is the greatest joy and honor of his own life.
"Don't worry, I won't let you dad cook again until you're out to college." Buck promises.
He goes back to the table to open the tupperware and the smell of food quickly wafts through the room. The sight of real food makes Chris finally look up. He pauses the game and cranes his neck to take a peek into the food containers.
"Wow, when did you have time to cook that? It looks amazing!"
"And smells even better,” Eddie chips in on the praise, appearing from the kitchen - without the apron.
"Well … I did actually cook that for the date I had with Tommy," Buck admits sheepishly.
"Oh shi- shoot, was that today?" Eddie asks, an indefinable tone in his voice while he sits down at the table.
"Um yes, but it's alright. I think Tommy's got some vouchers for the pizza place near his house." Buck picks up Chis’ crutches from where they have fallen down to the floor and hands them to him.
"So we're eating food meant for Tommy and he goes hungry?" If Buck didn't know better he would say that Chris sounds awfully gleeful about that, as the boy carefully stands up from the couch.
"Mijo, go wash your hands." Eddie ignores the muttered I’m not a kid, dad, you don’t need to remind me and waits until Chris is out of earshot, before turning back to Buck who sits down across from him. Something flickers in his face too fast for Buck to decipher before he schools it back to normal.
"Buck, you're sure it's okay? I mean I would understand if you -”
"Eds. Please, it's fine. Tommy didn't even want the food, he doesn't like my - erm, new cooking style." He laughs awkwardly.
Eddie frowns at his wording. "What's that supposed to mean?"
The irritated tone in Eddie's voice makes Buck suddenly feel insecure. What if he’s blowing the whole issue up? Maybe he overreacted. Tommy doesn't have to like his cooking.
He hesitates, trying to find the right words.
"Oh - well - I tried to recreate the curry from the new Indian place we went to. But… Y-you know I only cook vegan now since -"
"Pigsley Hamilton. Yeah, I mean even I had to cut back my meat consumption since I saw what they did to those cows on that factory farm,” Eddie grimaces.
Buck looks up in surprise. He didn't expect for Eddie to have actually watched the two hour documentary he sent him in the middle of the night while deep in his search-atron.
"Exactly! But um, Tommy's apparently not a great fan of the vegan kitchen, so..." He looks down on the table, suddenly very interested at the crocheted pattern of the table cloth.
"Oh. Well, everybody's got their own meal preferences, right?" Eddie states tactfully.
Embarrassment floods him. He knew he had acted childishly. Gosh, Eddie must be tired of hearing him complain about every little thing his boyfriend can't seem to get right because of Buck's over-the-top standards. As if Tommy’s the bad guy, not him.
"Y-yeah of course! Aadrika told me that the recipe needed changing to be vegan so it's really not the same. And I totally should have asked first, it's really my own fault that -”
"Woah," Eddie calmingly raises his hands. "It isn't y -"
"Wait, who is Aadrika?" Chris interrupts his dad, as he comes back from the bathroom and sits down next to Eddie.
Buck faces him with a smile, relieved to change the subject.
"Oh, it's the restaurant owner's wife. Lovely lady. I talked to her about how great the food was and how much my boyfriend likes it. She gave me the recipe so that I could try it out.”
That earns him a low whistle from Eddie.
"Wow. Charming yet another old lady into giving you their family recipes? Can't mention this to abuela, or she'll get jealous," Eddie smiles. "And I’m sure your vegan adaptation of the recipe will taste great. It may taste differently, but I bet it’s still good. You always go all out when cooking,” he adds.
Buck feels his cheeks heat at the compliment. He gifts Eddie a shy smile and grabs a spoon to start dishing out the curry.
“Was it difficult to make it vegan?” Eddie questions as he and Chris hold out their plates.
"Oh I didn't change much. I just left out the chicken." Buck replies absent mindedly, as he begins to shove huge spoonfuls of food on their plates.
Both Diaz boys freeze.
“What?” Buck asks, catching on to their weird expressions.
Eddie shoots him a disbelieving look.
"You can't tell me not adding chicken changes the flavor so much that Tommy won’t eat it?”
Buck shrugs, hoping the nonchalance is convincing. "I don’t know. H-he didn't want to try it, so -" He sets down the spoon and regrets it instantly, his hands itching to fiddle with something. He clams them together, willing them to stay still.
"He didn't even try? Chris asks. “Man, that's fu-” He shoots a quick look to his dad. “..-udged up.”
Buck again only shrugs, staring at his hands.
He hears a sigh coming from Eddie.
"Buck.”
A heavy hand lands on his shoulder, urging him to look up at Eddie’s serious face. “If he can't appreciate your cooking, well his loss. We love it. And I’m not just saying that because I can’t cook and need someone to feed my son and I with something that is actually edible."
Buck’s corner of his lips twitch at the reminder of Eddie’s absolute incapability in the kitchen.
“But because we see how much energy and passion you put into every meal you make. It’s how you show the people you love that you care about them.”
Warmth spreads in Buck’s chest and he again wonders how someone can understand him that well, the complicated and often messy person he is. It is as if he’s a ball of yearn no one - even himself - can find the starting strand to, except Eddie.
Eddie just pulled at the strand and he can breathe again.
"Yeah", Chris adds and Buck wills himself to look away from Eddie’s eyes to face him. "I’m gonna eat everything you make, even if it would taste like something dad would make.” He smiles. “I know it’s important to you.”
"Thank you", Buck manages to croak, blinking away the tears that traiterously collected in his eyes. He clears his throat as he tries to compose himself. "W-we should eat before the food gets even colder."
“Yes.” Chris nods approvingly, kindly deciding to not comment on Buck’s emotional state. “I’m starving.”
For a while, the only sound filling the room was the soft scraping of cutlery and the appreciating hums of the Diazes.
"So," Eddie suddenly breaks the silence. "Date night. That's why you're all dressed up, hm?" He asks, a teasing smile on his lips. "And here I was thinking you just wanted to look nice for me."
That makes Buck almost choke on the rice. Spluttering, he reaches for the closest napkin. Partially to hide his furious blush, only to some extent caused by the coughing fit.
And - he knows it sounds laughable, okay? He knows. But - sometimes the teasing from Eddie sounds a lot like flirting. Which - yeah. Haha. Could he be more of a chliché?
Get it together Buckley, your straight friend complementing you is not flirting.
Occupied with not dying, he misses the knowing look Chris shoots his father and the answering grin on Eddie’s face.
"But seriously, blue suits you. You should wear it more often,” Eddie adds sincerely.
"T-thanks,” Buck stutters, his grip on the napkin tight.
They both ignore the deep sigh coming from Chris.
After dinner, Chris goes to his room under the pretense of going to bed early. Both Buck and Eddie pretend to not hear the muffled conversation coming from his room, presumably with Denny about the new game he got.
Eddie gets them two bottles of beer, sitting back on the couch right next to Buck, knees knocking together. A movie is playing in the background and Buck feels utterly content as they both sip from their bottles.
The weight of Eddie sitting beside him is deeply comforting. In contrast to the evenings he spends with his boyfriend, here he can calm down and unwind. Nothing is expected from him, he doesn’t have to entertain Eddie so he won’t get bored, he doesn’t have to ‘keep it down’. He can laugh as loud as he wants and comment on the movie without being hushed.
His eyes wander from the TV screen to where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against his. He wishes Eddie would lay his hand on his leg.
He instantly feels guilty about his thoughts. About comparing Eddie to Tommy.
That’s not what a good boyfriend would do.
The next time he reaches for his beer, he sinks back a little more to the right, thus creating a little gap between them. It lasts for about three minutes until Eddie closes that gap after taking a sip himself.
Oh well, he tried.
And if somebody would ask him if he snuggled a little closer to Eddie, he would deny it.
When the movie comes to an end, both their beers long gone, Buck hesitates.
He doesn’t want to leave. But he knows that even though Eddie helps him relax, that probably does not apply to him. People like spending their time with him up to a certain point. Then he becomes exhausting. And Eddie deserves some time to relax, just by himself.
"Well, it's getting late," Buck says, hesitantly standing up from the couch. "I should probably go back to my place. Maybe Tommy's still - "
A hand shoots forward, clasping around his wrist.
"Stay."
It isn’t a request. The command hits him like an eighteen-wheeler truck.
Without another word, Buck lets himself sink back onto the couch. Eddie lets go of his wrist and before he gets the chance to mourn the warmth, his hand settles heavily on the back of his neck.
"Good boy."
The truck comes to a screeching halt, reverses and hits him again.
If Eddie hears the way his breath hitches he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he begins to gently scratch the skin on his nape where his hair begins to curl and Buck feels himself melt into Eddie’s touch.
Maybe he really acts like a dog.
He realizes that as long as the Diazes will have him, he doesn't mind.
The first sunbeams make their way through the blinds when he hears heavy footsteps quietly walking past the living room, pausing shortly, then continuing up until Chris' room. Buck can hear the gentle murmur of Eddie waking his son for school. He hears Eddie retreating back to his bedroom, probably to squeeze in another half hour of sleep.
It took him a lot of convincing for Eddie to give in to his morning-hating persona, overriding the drilled in habit of being up before dawn. Buck loves that Eddie trusts him with his and his son’s morning routine, letting Buck make breakfast so that he can sleep a little bit longer.
It feels domestic.
Buck yawns as he reaches for his phone. He should probably get up before Chris hogs the bathroom. Quickly, he checks the time. Six thirty.
Just then realizes he forgot to turn off the do-not-disturb-mode. Groaning, he does just that. His phone is instantly flooded by all the (angry) messages Tommy left last night.
Tommy: You better be home when -
Yeah, no.
Buck flips himself off the couch and quietly goes to the bathroom, gets dressed and goes back to the kitchen to start on breakfast. He will have to think about what to answer Tommy, but Chris has to go to school in an hour. Till then, all Tommy-related problems have to wait.
"You're making sandwiches?" a tired looking Chris asks twenty minutes later, shuffling to the kitchen table and letting himself fall onto a chair.
"Sorry, Superman. Can't make pancakes on this," he answers, pointing to the frying pan soaking in the sink. "I think we'll have to get a new one. From what I can see, the little rocks of burnt oatmeal have been permanently fused with the iron."
"Maybe you should let Aunt Karen have a look, they could make their next rocket out of that stuff,” Chris suggests.
Buck laughs as he powers on Hildy (Eddie insists on her being unplugged for the night). He finishes a pot of coffee as a loud yawn sounds from the doorway.
"Morning."
Eddie comes into the kitchen, wearing an oversized white shirt which Buck suspects must be one of his and pyjama pants, his hair still ruffled from sleep. The view makes Buck's heart flutter.
"Hey Eds," he replies softly, ignoring the overwhelming need to burrow his head in the still sleep-warm neck of his friend to inhale his scent.
That would be crazy.
Instead he pours coffee into two mugs (picturing Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street, a gift from Hen) and orange juice into another, while stacking the sandwiches he made onto a plate.
Acting like a normal person. He can do that.
"Hey, I think someone's calling you, there is a weird ringing sound coming from the bathroom," Eddie says, another yawn erupting from him. He is so not a morning person it’s ado - funny. "You always leave your phone laying around in random places. Last friday I found it in the fridge.” He takes the mug picturing Bert from the counter and sits next to his son, pressing a quick kiss into his curls.
"Because I had to use both hands to take out the lemon cheesecake for the bake sale,” he retorts. He hands Chris his juice and sets the sandwiches into the table. "It's probably Tommy. I'll call him back when I’m at my place.”
He glances up to see Eddie looking very grimly into his steaming mug.
That’s weird. Morning-Eddie can be a bit grumbly but not grim.
"Everything okay, Eds? Is the coffee not how you like it?” he asks, even though that’s impossible. He knows how Eddie drinks his coffee.
Eddie’s grip on the mug tightens slightly as if he’s bracing himself. Then he looks up,
"I don't like him."
If Eddie had told him that he’d think about buying a smart TV he’d be less surprised.
"Who? M- Tommy?" Buck gapes. "But - you two are friends?”
"Not since he left you on that sidewalk"' Eddie scoffs, taking a sip from his coffee. "Coffee's good by the way."
Buck just continues staring at him.
Eddie sighs.
"Sorry if that was weird,” he mumbles. "I know he's your boyfriend and if you're happy with him, then that's all that matters to me. I just - had to say it once."
"Oh," Buck breathes.
Happy.
“Dad!” Chris’ shout interrupts his thoughts. “We have to hurry or we’ll be late!”
With a quick glance at the clock and a quiet curse Eddie chugs down the rest of his coffee and hurries to get dressed while Chris races to the bathroom to fix his hair.
Buck stands frozen for a few more seconds, before he slowly turns back to the kitchen counter.
Mechanically, he packs Chris’ lunch.
He says his goodbye to the Diazes, who are rushing out of the house. (“See you in two hours, Buckley!”)
He does the dishes.
Chugs the frying pan into the trash.
Then he gets into his car and drives to Tommy’s.
“Evan, what are you doing here?” Tommy asks as he opens the door to a frenzied looking Buck. “If you’re here to apologize then you better - “
“Iwanttobreakupwithyou,” Buck rushes out.
“What?”
Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to slow down. “I want to break up with you.”
For a second, all Tommy does is stare. Then he lets out a disbelieving laugh.
"You’re breaking up with me?” Tommy asks mockingly. “Come on, Evan. Where is this coming from?”
Maybe he should’ve taken a breather before breaking up with his boyfriend. It would have given him time to think about what he wants to say.
Maybe it would have prevented the next sentence stumbling out of his mouth.
"Eddie doesn't like you."
Buck briefly closes his eyes, mortified. He hadn't meant to blurt that out loud. But hey, it's his first time ever breaking up with someone. Normally people would leave him.
Tommy looks at him as if he just told him that he left him for Pigsley Hamilton.
"What?"
"N - no, that's not - I mean that is not the only reason I'm breaking up with you. I’m unhappy with you. We’re unhappy, Tommy.”
Slowly, Tommy recovers. He scoffs, his lips curling.
"Wow, that’s really pathetic, even for you. What, you think you can do better than me? You think Eddie would want you now that you’re single? He’s straight, Evan.”
Buck frowns, taking a step back at the taunting tone in Tommy’s voice.
“It’s not that, Tommy, and you know it. We are not good to each other- I -I’m dishonest to you about my feelings. I don’t think I even like you.”
“Oh give me a break. Because Eddie said he doesn’t like me now you have to hop on the same train? Can’t you once think for yourself?”
Buck can hear his own frustration bleeding into his voice.
“Tommy! You’re not listening -”
“No, you listen to me!” Tommy hisses, leaning forward. “You think I like you? Fuck no. I’m not with you because I like you.”
Buck startles but Tommy just goes on with his outburst.
“I wanted him first, but he's clearly straight. But then you show up and you -” Tommy laughs again. “You were just so desperate for his attention, you almost broke his fucking ankle. But hey, you like guys and you got a hot body, so I thought to myself why not?”
Suddenly Tommy takes a step towards him.
“I taught you that you like guys.” He jabs his finger into Buck’s chest. “You have me to thank for that revelation.”
Tommy brings his face close to Buck’s and for a second Buck asks himself what he's ever seen in that man that made him think he liked him.
“And now all he has to do is comment on our relationship and you think I’m the bad guy here? You should take a look at Mr. String-along! You think he gives a fuck about what you think about his dates?” Tommy snarks.
Buck takes another step back to escape from the older man’s touch, completely bewildered. "Don't talk about him like that -”
But Tommy ignores him. "One day he'll find a pretty little woman and build her a boring house with a white picket fence and where do you see yourself in this, hm? Right now Diaz tolerates you cramming yourself in every crook of his life, but that will change. Think about it, Evan.” Tommy leans back, his arms crossed and a challenging expression on his face. “I may be your only chance at ever being chosen."
Buck blinks away the tears. A few years ago, he would have killed for this opportunity. He always wanted to be chosen by someone. But he realizes now that his dreams have long ago shifted.
He shakes his head, all of the sudden feeling exhausted. He’s sick of fighting, of pretending he doesn’t know what he wants when in reality he knows exactly what he wants.
Who he wants.
"You don’t get it, do you? Do you know why this will never work? Do you want to know the secret I’ve been carrying with me probably since the day I met him? Why every relationship I had since then and every relationship I will have is going to fail?” Buck exhales a shaky laugh. He takes another step backwards.
“I’m so tired. Of running away from my feelings. Yes, Tommy, I’m in love with Eddie.”
Admitting it - to his ex-boyfriend nonetheless - should have scared him. Instead it fills him with relief. A humorless laugh escapes him.
“Congratulations! You were right all along. Yes, I’ve been ‘desperate for his attention’ and yeah, I’ve been a terrible boyfriend, but - “
Buck looks up with a sudden earnestness on his face.
“I love him. I love his son like he is my own.”
Tommy looks at him, frozen. As if he hadn’t expected Buck to actually admit that.
“There. That’s all you need to know,” Buck continues, ignoring Tommy’s flabbergasted expression. “I love them with everything I have and there isn’t an ounce of caring I’m going to deprive them from to give to you.”
Buck sees the anger dawning in Tommy’s eyes but finds himself unaffected by it.
“And I know I’m overstepping,” he admits with a wobbling smile.
“I don’t care. I will never ever choose being a half-assed boyfriend to you or anyone over being a part of their family.”
With that, he leaves.