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“This is my boyfriend, Eddie.”
Eddie’s head snaps towards Ian. He didn’t mean to be that obvious, but it’s the first time either of them have used that word: boyfriend. Eddie finds he likes the sound of it. He squeezes Ian’s hand, entwined with his, and turns back to Susan, Ian’s dental hygienist they ran into at the park. They only talk for a few more moments, idle chitchat, before she’s putting her airpods back in and jogging off down the trail, continuing her workout that had been interrupted by a familiar face.
“Boyfriend, huh?” Eddie says casually, once she’s out of sight.
Ian looks over at him, a glint in his eyes. “Well, it was easier than ‘undefined man I’ve been sleeping with exclusively for two months,’ but if you have a better idea—”
“Nope,” Eddie cuts him off quickly. “I think it’s good. We should stick with that. Boyfriend.” The word feels good in his mouth. Right. He can’t stop the grin spreading over his face.
Boyfriend. It sticks in his head for the rest of the week, carrying through two whole shifts with a skip in his step. He has a boyfriend. He feels like a school kid—no one this close to forty should be as giddy he is about having a boyfriend—a juvenile word, really, but it’s new for him.
It’s been a thrilling two months. Or maybe more accurately, it’s been a completely normal two months that have felt completely dizzying to Eddie. After a lifetime of holding himself back—of dating the wrong people, every mundane moment sends a small thrill down his spine.
Ian has just as hectic a schedule as Eddie does, but despite that, they still manage to see each other a couple times a week, and lately, with Ian usually staying the night in Eddie’s bed at least once.
Eddie is blessed with one of those nights now. After a few days where they'd only been able to see each other in glimpses, they'd managed to have the whole day together. They had spent it under the sun, in Chimney’s backyard. Ian’s first invitation to a team barbecue. Eddie had been secretly pleased to notice Ian’s nervousness at the start, his palm sweating in Eddie’s as he was introduced to everyone properly. It was the same when he met Chris a few weeks back.
Ian’s already in bed looking at his phone, propped up by pillows on the side that’s for now still known as Not Eddie’s—but will maybe one day become his. Eddie tosses his socks into the laundry bin, trying not to get too far ahead of himself. He knows he’s had a bad habit of going too fast in his relationships in the past, but he thinks it’s coming from a different place this time—less trying to outrun the inevitable, and more of that adolescent daydreaming giddiness again.
He throws on his sleep shorts and an old threadbare shirt, not an incredibly sexy sleepwear choice, but Ian never seems to mind. He joins Ian on the bed, shuffling over him, hovering above until Ian puts his phone down. Once he does, Eddie tilts his face until his boyfriend obliges him with the kiss he was asking for.
“Tonight was good,” Eddie says, unable to hold back his smile as he steals another quick kiss. He drops his weight, settling himself into Ian’s lap.
“It was.” Ian’s arm loops lazily around Eddie’s waist. “Thank you for bringing me.”
Eddie snorts. “I should be thanking you. I love them, but they're a bunch of crazy busybodies. I’m lucky they didn’t chase you out.”
“Not possible,” Ian says, his hands trailing down to grab at his ass for emphasis. Eddie laughs, pulling him into another kiss. When they break apart, Ian looks at Eddie consideringly, breaking the rhythm they had been building towards. “Hey, um,” Ian starts, gnawing at his lip.
“What?”
“I might regret asking this but…” Ian trails off, hesitating until Eddie nudges him, urging him to continue. “Buck,” he says, simply.
Eddie frowns. He doesn’t remember Buck doing anything particularly weird or notable. Hell, he doesn’t even recall him and Ian talking that much. Is that weird? Is Ian worried that he didn’t get the best friend stamp of approval, or something? “What about him? I mean, he can be a little much sometimes, but he mellows out—”
Ian shakes his head. “No. I’m talking about: Buck, your very handsome and very involved best friend, who is also queer...” He trails off again, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to fill in the blank. When he doesn’t, Ian finally says: “Do I have anything to worry about there?”
“With me and Buck?” Eddie asks, eyebrows climbing.
Ian shrugs, but holds eye contact, waiting for Eddie’s response, which is: “No. Hell no.” Ian rolls his eyes, so Eddie reaches out, cupping his face and brushing his thumb under his eye. “Buck is my best friend, but that’s it,” Eddie assures, gently. “I’ve seen him eat an entire bowl of pasta with his hands. I’ve smelt some of the worst smells of my life coming out of him.” That finally earns Eddie a short huff, Ian shaking his head fondly. Eddie grins back at him. “I love the guy, but, he’s just… that’s Buck. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“If you say so,” Ian says, leaning up for a kiss, before rolling them over and pressing Eddie into the mattress.
*
“Ian asked if there was anything going on between you and me,” Eddie mentions the next day, out of the blue. He’s sitting on the bench, watching Buck work the punching bag while he takes a break. He’s been giving Buck a few pointers here and there, but his mind had drifted back to the conversation with his boyfriend.
He didn’t mean to dwell on it. He’d told Ian his worries were unfounded, and that was that. Time to move on. But it was just so… ridiculous. Ian, cautious and unsure—a far cry from his normal confidence—only to imply Buck was some sort of threat. It’s all so absurd, Eddie couldn’t help letting it slip. After all, Buck would understand more than anyone else, and then they’d be able to have a good laugh about it.
“What?” Buck yelps, missing his next punch entirely, the bag swinging right into him instead and knocking him a step back.
“Whoa, you okay, man?” Eddie asks, not yet getting up from the bench.
Buck’s got terrible form, but Eddie can’t take his eyes off it. It’s like a car crash or something, he muses.
“Yup,” Buck answers immediately, getting right back into it, hitting the bag with a little more force, like he’s making up for his miss. “Yeah, all good. What did you—what did you say?”
Eddie snorts. “Obviously, I told him there was nothing to worry about.”
“Right. Obviously.” Buck throws a punch with each word.
It’s silent for a while, but not the comfortable silence they usually have, instead something more stilted. Eddie didn’t get the laugh that he wanted, and wonders what went wrong. Buck finishes off his workout and comes to join Eddie on the bench, Eddie silently hands him over his water, and he takes a long swig, his head tilted back and throat bobbing. When he’s had enough he sets the bottle down with a loud thud, and wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Tommy, uh, said the same thing once,” Buck says, breaking the weird silent lull they were in.
“Hm?”
“About you and me—he thought you were his competition.”
“You never told me that.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think it was—” He cuts himself off, making a strange waving gesture with his hand. “Didn’t wanna bother you with it. Because he was wrong.”
Eddie snorts. “ Guess I won then, in his mind.”
“Something like that.” Buck clears his throat, looking away, rather than laughing along with Eddie’s joke.
Eddie frowns. “Is that why you guys…” Buck doesn’t respond, and doesn’t look at Eddie either. That tells him all he needs to know. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve talked to him, set the record straight.” Buck tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. Eddie huffs. “Okay, not quite straight.”
Buck laughs under his breath, while Eddie shakes his head, grinning. It breaks the tension.
“Don’t worry about it,” Buck says eventually. “It’s whatever. It wouldn’t have changed anything. Tommy and I just didn’t work.”
“His loss,” Eddie says, clapping Buck on the shoulder. “Look, he just didn’t get it—us. Neither of them do. But if someone can’t handle this,” he says, pointing between them, “then they’re not worth it. I’ll make sure Ian knows that too.”
Buck smiles, ducking his head.
“We should hang out—the three of us.” Eddie watches as Buck’s grin drops slightly, and rushes to reassure him. “Come on, it’ll be great, I want Ian to get to know you better. He can see for himself that what you and I have is different.” The bell rings before Buck can respond and try to wiggle out of it, which Eddie takes as a yes. “My place, Friday night!”
*
“Buck?”
An abrupt pounding on the front door had interrupted Eddie’s quiet afternoon of folding laundry and half-watching a baseball game—the Dodgers weren’t playing, so Eddie had no deep investment in the outcome. He was surprised to find Buck standing on his porch. It’s about seven hours before their plans for later tonight. Even for Buck, that’s absurdly early.
“Is, uh—Is Ian here?” he asks, craning his neck like he’s expecting him to materialize behind Eddie.
“No, he’s still on shift.” Eddie steps aside so that Buck can come in, but strangely he stays rooted to his spot, wringing his hands together. “Are you okay, man? We’re doing dinner, not lunch, right?”
“You said—” Buck starts before abruptly cutting himself off. Eddie watches as he squeezes his eyes shut, taking a breath. All the nervous energy Buck is giving off is starting to seep into Eddie too. Buck takes another breath and starts again: “You said you’ve never thought of it, but it’s all I’ve done for the last two months. Tommy wasn’t wrong. And Ian—Ian wasn’t either, at least on my part.”
Eddie blinks. “What?” He waits for Buck to crack a smile, say got you. It never comes. Buck stares at him, deadly serious, and more intently than he maybe ever has.
“I’m sorry,” he says, still standing out of reach. It’s on purpose Eddie realizes, distantly. “I know this is such a shitty thing to do as your best friend but I—If there’s any chance at all, I have to go for it now before you, like, fall in love with him and get married."
Eddie’s heart pounds. He feels thoroughly pinned under Buck’s gaze, unable to look away or move or speak.
“I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life,” Buck says. A car drives past, somehow the world still moving around them. “And I can’t sit back and say nothing, and potentially miss out on that. I would love you, and care for you, and—and all that other big stuff. And I already do all that, honestly, but—but I could give you even more. I would do it better than anyone else ever could, I swear.”
Eddie feels lightheaded. Each unbelievable word out of Buck chips away at the solid ground beneath Eddie’s feet, making him feel so unsteady that he doesn’t know how he’s still standing. He should respond, but there’s a lump in his throat he can’t move past.
“And you don’t have to say anything right now, because this is a lot, and I feel like if I demanded an answer right away that would be unfair, so, um, all I’m asking is if you could consider if you’d ever want that. Being with me. But if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. It’ll be fine. You don’t need to—to pretend for my benefit, that would be worse. If you want me to get over you, it might take a bit, but I will. So, just, um… yeah. Think about it. I don’t know how to end this.”
“Buck,” Eddie says finally, his throat so tight he’s surprised anything came out. “I’ll think about it.”
Buck nods, and then turns around and leaves without another word. Eddie’s left rooted to the spot, staring after him, even after his truck drives out of view.
*
“Eddie?”
He’s not sure how much time has passed, but that’s definitely his boyfriend’s voice. Ian doesn’t have a key, which means Eddie didn't even manage to lock the door before he dragged himself over to the couch. He’s been sat in this spot ever since, Buck’s speech still ringing in his ears.
“You never answered my texts. Hey, are you okay?” he asks once he’s standing in front of Eddie, still unable to move from the couch. He lifts his head at least, and sees Ian’s handsome face looking down at him, laced with concern.
“Sorry, I had…a fucking weird day.”
Ian smiles, and nudges Eddie’s foot with his own. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Um.” Eddie wets his lips, throat suddenly dry. Jesus Christ, how is he supposed to say all of this to his boyfriend. He really likes Ian. He’s happy in their relationship, and, it’s early still, but it feels like it has some legs on it. As soon as he opens his mouth he’s pretty sure it’ll cut those legs off.
He doesn’t even know where to start. How can he explain it to Ian when he’s still unpacking everything Buck said himself? The silence drags on, and much as he doesn’t want to break it, he knows he has to. “Buck stopped by this afternoon,” he says, his voice ringing in his ears. “Said he was in love with me, so…” Eddie sighs, running a hand over his face with his eyes squeezed shut. When he opens them, blinking against the light, Ian’s staring down at him with a sad smile.
“Shit,” he says, sitting down next to Eddie. “I guess this is over then.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” Even to him it sounds unconvincing. “I really like you. It’s not easy, Buck is—”
“Your best friend.”
Eddie shakes his head. “An idea. Or a concept, I don’t know. It’s not real yet, and we don’t know if it’ll even work, or if it’ll ruin everything we already have.”
Ian chews his lip for a moment, searching Eddie’s face for something. He must find whatever it was, his expression softening into a wistful smile. “But you need to find out, don’t you.” It’s phrased as a statement, not a question. He knew before Eddie did. Eddie didn’t even know for sure until moments ago, when he opened his mouth and started speaking.
He sighs, slumping into the couch. “Yeah. I do.” Now that Buck’s put it into words, it feels so stupidly obvious. Inevitable. They’ve been heading towards it the moment they met, when both of them were too blind to see it. Eddie only wishes Ian wasn’t collateral in the wake of their foolishness.
Ian nods. “I get it.” He reaches out, intertwining his fingers with Eddie’s for maybe the last time. Eddie squeezes his hand.
“Hey, maybe—maybe if it all goes up in flames, and I’m divorced again in two years—”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna wait for you,” Ian jokes.
“Shit, I was banking on that.” It breaks some of the tension at least, letting them share a quiet laugh. Eddie’s going to miss him. He exhales, heavily. “Fuck, this sucks. I’m sorry.”
Ian raises an eyebrow. “Did you know this whole time, that you were in love with him?”
“No, I wasn’t lying about that—”
“Then don’t apologize.” He smiles, thumb rubbing circles into the back of Eddie’s hand. “It does suck. But we had a good time, right?”
“Yeah, we did.” Eddie sighs ruefully, looking between their still-joined hands and Ian’s open face. It’s all happening so quickly, he wants to slow down, just for a moment, and mourn what could’ve been. Eddie tilts his face towards Ian’s, silently asking for one more kiss at least. Ian obliges him, like he always does, but this one tastes more bittersweet; a goodbye. It’s more heated than it needs to be, but Eddie is in no hurry for it to end quite yet.
*
Ian walks out of Eddie's life an hour later, with a bag of his things—a toothbrush, a few items of clothing, and a book—hitched over his shoulder. Eddie does not grab his keys and rush over to Buck’s the moment the door shuts behind him, regardless of the impulse. Instead, he sits with all of it for the rest of the day, and then another. Buck told him to think about it, so Eddie spends two days doing only that, turning years of their relationship over in his head.
When Buck had come out to him, Eddie had said nothing would change, and then it didn’t. Buck never treated him or looked at him differently, and Eddie had followed that lead when it was his turn, reassured that he’d been right; nothing would be different.
Now he realizes it’s more likely that nothing had changed because they'd already been in it, in one way or another, since the moment they met.
He had thought—even told Ian—that they had been through too much together, had witnessed too much of the worst of each other. All the unappealing things you'd hide from a first date. But that would never be what Buck is.
They stuck by each other through all of it. And they knew the best of each other too.
A relationship with Buck is still just a concept, but Eddie knows it’s as vivid and sure as one can be after all that they’ve weathered. He can’t imagine adding a little more romance to the equation could be the thing that ruins them if nothing else has. It’s a risk Eddie wants to take.
*
Eddie raps his knuckles on the door, two quick knocks, and waits. He’s knocked on Buck’s door, whether it’s been this one or his old loft, hundreds of times—maybe into quadruple digits by now. It’s never been this nerve-wracking though. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, knocking again, harder this time.
The door swings open suddenly. It’s only been a few days, but his eyes scan over Buck like he’s been starved. It’s all so familiar, but at the same time, Eddie’s seeing him through brand new eyes. He looks like he just got out of bed. His feet are bare, and his curls are askew and uneven, flat on one side. He’s bundled up in an old beat-up sweatshirt that Eddie knows he brings out when he’s feeling down. He looks like a mess. Eddie’s stomach flips when he realizes how much he wants him, all the same.
Buck's eyes go wide the second he registers who is standing on his porch. “Eddie!” he exclaims. He smiles but it’s awkward and nervous. At least they’re in the same boat.
“Can I come in?”
Buck nods jerkily, moving to the side, plastering himself to the wall like he’s worried if they accidentally brush against each other the world will end.
“You look scared.”
“Yeah, well.” Buck makes a half-hearted gesture before clasping his hands, massaging his thumb into his palm. “I kind of am. I didn’t hear from you for two days—not that I was expecting to, but, it did give me a lot of time to convince myself I made a huge mistake and fucked up everything, so…”
Eddie smiles at him, attempting to ease his nerves. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable, even if it would be fun to make him sweat. “Ian and I broke up. Obviously.”
“Uh.” Buck blinks rapidly, like he’s still trying to parse out Eddie’s words. “Not obviously. That was absolutely not obvious.”
Eddie shrugs, projecting as much calm as he can, as if his own pulse isn’t racing. “It was for me.”
“Eddie,” Buck breathes out.
“Buck.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Buck pleads, eyes wide and stressed.
“Just like you said. We can’t not take this chance, right?” He shrugs again. It’s both the easiest thing in the whole world, and absolutely fucking terrifying. He wonders if Buck had felt the same, when he showed up at Eddie’s.
Buck’s eyes dart over Eddie’s face. He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Buck, who never shuts up, who has something to say for every occasion, even—especially—when he’s nervous, struck silent for once. Eddie would make a quip, but he doesn’t get the chance. Instead of speaking, Buck steps forward, his hand cupping Eddie’s cheek, and kisses him soundly.
It’s different than kissing Ian, Eddie thinks distantly as his back hits a wall. (A wall? A door? The fridge? He has no idea.) Buck is more—more. Loud and urgent and eager—so fucking eager. He’s somehow touching Eddie everywhere, all at once, as if he has five hands and three mouths. Eddie’s pretty sure he has a bruise forming on his jaw, even though Buck’s lips have never left his.
It feels like it goes on forever, getting lost in time. When do they finally separate to take a much needed breath, Buck doesn’t go far. His nose brushes against Eddie’s, huffing out a laugh. “Wow,” he breathes.
“You’ve got awful morning breath,” Eddie says, grinning like a fool.
Buck’s eyes shoot open, and he tries to reel back, but Eddie doesn’t let him, his grip on the back of Buck’s neck like steel, keeping him right by Eddie’s face, sour smell and all. Buck turns his head to the head, as far as he’s allowed to get, and mumbles, “You, uh, woke me up. I didn’t think—”
“I wanna kiss you anyway. It’s funny, I told Ian there wasn’t anything to worry about because we’d seen each other be gross and stupid all these years. Turns out, that was my biggest problem. That I wanna be with you despite all of that.”
Buck whines. “I want you to think I’m sexy, not gross.”
Eddie kisses him again, open mouth, not shying away from anything. “You’re both, and I love you,” he says when they part. “Okay, let’s both brush our teeth, because I think I taste as bad as you now.”
Buck snorts. “What’s mine is yours.”
“Mhmm.” Eddie grins. “And then you should take me to bed.”
“Yeah?”
“Unless you want me to think that over some more too—”
Buck cuts him off with his mouth. It’s barely a kiss, really—both of them smiling too much, as Buck leads them stumbling towards the bedroom.