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pseudo danny zuko

Summary:

“That is tight.”

“Uh, I think the kids are saying sick now,” Buck jabs, looking down at himself, and decidedly not mourning Eddie’s touch once he lets go of his arm.

“Do I even wanna know who the president was when you got that thing? It’s gonna split in half,” Eddie comments—eyes remaining on his arms, wandering from one to the next, and then back. Almost as if he’s… admiring the way the leather emphasizes Buck’s size. In his dreams, he supposes.

“Oh, that's not fair—don't insult my costume, you barely even had to dress up!”

“The hell does that mean? Excuse me, your kid wanted us to be Zuko and Kenickie, and I’m delivering. This jacket—” he pops the collar for emphasis. “—was not cheap.”

Notes:

there will be another installment in this series, i considered going for two chapters of the same story, but i think they’ll work better as companions ♡

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The universe is fucking with Buck; he knows it is. 

Someone up there holds a grudge against Evan Buckley, and Evan Buckley specifically—or perhaps they're just bored. Either way, he’s very sorry for whatever he did to deserve the view he’s presented with upon opening his front door. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, already making his way inside, shoulder brushing Buck’s chest as he goes—the kind of casual touch they always seem to share, the ones that come naturally; the ones that Buck had somehow gone years without even noticing, much less overthinking. “You guys ready to go?” he asks—as if he isn't standing in Buck’s house looking so hot that Buck genuinely thinks he’s at risk of passing out. Or… doing something even worse; screw the universe for giving him such a beautiful best friend, screw the universe for making him fall deeply and irretrievably in love with said best friend, and especially screw the universe for not allowing him to remain in denial about it. 

Thanks to Theo’s somewhat odd (and slightly age-inappropriate, although Buck has never actually let him watch the entire movie) newfound obsession with Grease, he knew exactly how Eddie was going to show up, and probably should have been prepared for it. In his defence, however, he’s been a little bit too busy running around trying to find a yellow dress fit for a toddler that even slightly resembles Sandy’s. It had to be as perfect as possible—partly because Buck is still trying to figure this whole parenting thing out, and partly because when Theo had told him that he wanted to be “Grease” for halloween, Buck had immediately assumed he wanted to be Zuko—and, Theo’s screaming aside, which he immediately verbally reprimanded him for—Buck does feel somewhat bad for the assumption. If his son wants to be Sandy in a pretty yellow dress for halloween, he’s going to be Sandy in a pretty yellow dress for halloween. (And thank god that that was the Sandy outfit he chose.) 

Anyway—safe to say, he’s had a lot on his mind, he hasn't really had any time to overthink when it comes to his and Eddie’s costumes—and thankfully, there hasn't been much of a need to, Buck hadn’t even needed to buy anything but some shoes and a different kind of pomade for his hair. Other than that he just had to dig into his own closet; light-washed jeans, a white t-shirt, an orange button-up shirt already in his monthly rotation, and a leather jacket from his twenties—which, admittedly is absolutely strangling his biceps, but he’s choosing to call it proof of his hard work—a chocolate cigarette tucked behind his ear, and boom—he’s Kenickie.

It hadn't crossed Buck’s mind to bicker—even playfully—about which one of them should be Zuko. They hadn't even spoken about it—not that Buck remembers, and why would they? For once, he doesn't even think it has anything to do with the whole deeply in love with Eddie thing—looking at the two of them, it’s just objectively obvious who looks more like whom. 

“Buck?” Eddie asks when Buck apparently leaves him hanging for a beat too long. 

“Ye-yeah,” Buck stutters immediately, scratching the back of his neck, thankful for the excuse to turn his attention the opposite way as he gestures in the vague direction of Theo’s bedroom. “I uh…” he says sheepishly, helpless to keep himself from meeting Eddie’s eyes once again. “...got a bit too carried away—”

“—buying candy buckets?” Eddie guesses, crossing his arms. 

“There are so many!” Buck argues. “And they're all so cool, plus… you know, it’s, uh… it’s his first halloween with me, the first since, uh—”

“—hey,” Eddie stops him with the same ease as he always does—big brown eyes, and a heavy, comforting hand on his shoulder, thumb against his pulse-point—and just like that, Buck’s brain quiets down. How does he do that? How has he always been able to do that for him? “You’re doing a good job, Buck.” 

It’s that, Buck thinks—the lack of platitudes. Eddie would never stand here and say he’s doing amazing, or that Theo is going to have the best night of his life—even if he may consider those things to be true. It’s not what Buck needs, and Eddie knows—he knows—that all he really needs to hear is: “You’re doing a good job.” 

Eddie always knows. 

Fuck, he’s so in love with him. 

There’s a split second—if even that—where Eddie’s eyes wander down, and Buck, delusional and in love as he is—thinks he might be looking at his lips. Just as quickly as that thought flickers to life, however, just as quickly it’s gone—because Eddie’s eyes move right past his lips, and down to his arm, hand abandoning its place on his shoulder to instead squeeze his bicep. It’s light, and quick, and yet Buck has no choice but to bite his tongue and imagine his parents going at it. 

“That is tight.” 

“Uh, I think the kids are saying sick now,” Buck jabs, looking down at himself, and decidedly not mourning Eddie’s touch once he lets go of his arm. 

“Do I even wanna know who the president was when you got that thing? It’s gonna split in half,” Eddie comments—eyes remaining on his arms, wandering from one to the next, and then back. Almost as if he’s… admiring the way the leather emphasizes Buck’s size. In his dreams, he supposes. 

“Oh, that's not fair—don't insult my costume, you barely even had to dress up!” 

“The hell does that mean? Excuse me, your kid wanted us to be Zuko and Kenickie, and I’m delivering. This jacket—” he pops the collar for emphasis. “—was not cheap.”

“Your jacket is better than mine,” Buck agrees. “But that's not what I meant, I just meant…” he trails off, gesturing vaguely in an attempt to play casual; as if he and his clumsy mouth didn't just stumble into extremely dangerous territory. “You just… look like that, you know—”

“Eddie!”

Thank. God. 

“Oof,” Eddie huffs—clearly for show—when Theo comes running into his arms. “Look at you, Spiderman, that dress is perfect!”

“Daddy Buck got me three,” Theo nods—and, oh, the view of Eddie directing a raised eyebrow at Buck, while effortlessly carrying Theo on his hip is one that Buck has unfortunately been subject to a lot lately. Or fortunately—he’s not sure; he wouldn't give it up for anything, but it’s also the most painful thing he’s ever gone through. To see the life he wants, right there, in front of him—to have it, and yet simultaneously not have it at all. 

Thoughts for a sadder day. 

“What’s that bucket you chose, let me see it,” Eddie says, then, giving a slight nod, looking down at the orange piece of plastic dangling from Theo’s hand. 

“It’s uh—it's Mickey Mouse, right?” Buck cuts in. 

“Jack-o’-lantern Mickey Mouse,” Theo corrects him with a stubborn frown, holding the bucket out with a stretched arm, showing it off to both of them. 

“Yeah, Buck, jack-o’-lantern Mickey Mouse,” Eddie joins in, gesturing to the two smaller decorative plastic pumpkins along the rim, acting as the ears—as well as the face painted onto it, complete with two fangs, but otherwise familiar. 

It’s on the tip of Buck’s tongue to make a jab about them ganging up on him—but, ultimately they’re correct and he’s wrong, and on top of that, the domestic sight in front of him still has his heart beating unevenly, so instead, he places a palm over his own heart, and nods in defeat. 

“Jack-o’-lantern Mickey Mouse, of course, that's my mistake.” 

Theo giggles, and Eddie makes an amused noise of his own, but it barely lasts long enough for Buck to join in, or for the dangerous warmth in his chest to bloom further. No, instead, Theo leans in closer to Eddie’s ear, lowering his voice to a whisper. 

“Eddie…” he says. 

“Yeah, bud?” he asks, hitching him up. It’s a good thing Eddie’s jacket fits better than Buck’s, he doesn't know what he would do if he had a clearer view of Eddie’s flexed bicep right now—Theo’s getting heavier by the day. 

“Buck is too big for his jacket.” 

“Alright, alright,” Buck rolls his eyes, shaking his head, cheeks aching with his grin, the entryway welling up with laughter as he reaches for his keys. “That’s enough, come on—time for candy."


With Chris, Denny and Mara all outgrowing trick-or-treating—and the Han household catching a cold at the worst possible time—means the three of them have no choice but to go at this one alone. Well, alone, save for the other handful groups of children and parents wandering up and down the street just as the sun sinks down. They made good time, early enough that it won't mess with Theo’s sleeping schedule too much, yet late enough that it’s already dark, lending the right atmosphere. 

They make it to the first house—only to see a large plastic cauldron filled with candy, and a sign that says “Take 2 🕸️”

“Theo…” Buck warns gently, when he sees three pieces disappear into his tiny little fist. Theo turns around, looking at him. Buck raises an eyebrow. Theo shifts his attention over to Eddie, who Buck can only assume is giving a similar expression, because then Theo makes a noise of disappointment before ultimately dropping one piece back into the cauldron, and two into his own bucket. 

“But there’s so much of it,” Theo says, as he makes his way down the porch steps again, Buck and Eddie patiently waiting at the base. 

“I know, but if it says take two, you take two, okay?” Buck asks. 

“People don't have to put out candy for halloween, bud,” Eddie jumps in just as gently, yet firmly, as they reach the sidewalk once again. “They do it because they're nice, and they want it to be enough for everyone that comes by tonight. If you take advantage of it, they might not put any out next year, alright?” 

Buck swallows, eyes fixed on the back of Theo’s head, strongly suspecting they won’t have to worry about a tantrum—mostly because it’s Eddie—yet bracing for one anyway, just in case. 

Theo just nods—two, big exaggerated nods, all the way up, and all the way down. 

“Oh. Kay,” he agrees, in time with them. Buck hears Eddie’s amused exhale beside him, and against his own judgement, he looks over. 

Flush cheeks, closed-mouthed smile threatening to break into a grin, popped collar brushing his smooth neck—that fucking hair moving slightly with each step. God, he looks good. And he’s always so good with Theo—and while that hasn't come as a surprise in the least, it is a horrible tragedy as far as what it’s doing to Buck. 

And Buck isn't sure if it’s the costume or something entirely unrelated—perhaps the promise of being able to sneak a piece of candy or two—but he looks… happy. Light. Almost as if floating on air. 

God, if Eddie were a sure thing—or even remotely into men—Buck would give in right here, right now. Two knees wouldn't be appropriate in the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by children, but maybe he could get down on just one. There has got to be a ring-pop around here somewhere. 

It’s a pipe-dream. One Buck could easily get lost in, were he to drift too far—so just as he feels the current start to get away from him, he reels himself back in, clearing his throat. Which unwittingly seems to drag Eddie’s attention his way. 

“You alright?” he asks, Buck’s peripheral vision sees him turning his head, a casually concerned look on his face. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck assures him, thankful when they reach the next house. 

They allow Theo his space as he climbs up the steps, remaining at the base of the porch; Buck knows they’re both fighting a similar smile as Theo gets up on his toes to reach the doorbell. 

Briefly—very briefly—Buck feels a flicker of worry spark to life in his stomach. Not for a single second did he consider talking Theo out of the dress—he would never—but he really, really hopes that it won’t be the reason for any unsavory comments. It’s the last thing Theo needs right now—to learn the hateful truths of the world; someday, he will, but not tonight. Please. 

Then again, maybe Buck is mostly worried because he knows what it would do to him and Eddie. 

“If they say some bullshit, we might have to send Chris in,” Eddie mutters quietly, only for Buck’s ears. Buck huffs in simultaneous agreement and amusement. 

The two of them can handle a lot, but Eddie’s right—the sixteen year-old disabled teenager would do a much better job explaining the ins and outs of this stuff to Theo while keeping a cool head. It’s quite literally his and Eddie’s job to stay calm in difficult situations, but someone being hateful to their kids is a difficult one. 

Their kids, Buck’s own thought echoes in his head. Despite never leaving his mouth, he feels the need to justify it to himself—their kids as in Chris is Eddie’s, and Theo is Buck’s, so collectively, there are two, but not collectively as in—whatever. Who is he kidding at this point? Back to shore, Buckley. 

“Trick or treat!” Theo sing-songs, and as he watches the middle-aged man in the doorway greet him with a smile, Buck exhales in relief.


It takes them about half an hour to knock on a few more houses, Theo’s bucket gradually approaching the half-way line as the street starts filling up with more kids and parents—Buck and Eddie taking turns placing gentle hands on his shoulder, silently reminding him to be good and patiently wait for the kids in front of him to be done before it’s his turn to run up. (Most people close the door despite seeing more kids in line, just to give them a chance to ring the bell and say the three famous words, which warms Buck’s heart.)

“Eddie?” Theo asks, as they approach a specific house; the decorations wouldn't be anywhere near scary to any adult—or even a ten-year-old, most likely—that being said, it does have a slightly different vibe than the rest of the decorations on the street. Plastic skeletons, witch’s brooms and fake cobwebs rather than cute, smiley pumpkins and blinking colorful string-lights. On top of that, the house is already painted a deeper, forest green color which, while working beautifully with the entire vibe they’re clearly going for—also emphasizes the darker aura of it. 

Buck looks down to see Theo reach for Eddie’s hand; he searches and searches for the spark of jealousy or insecurity within himself—the one he expects to tell him that he’s failed because Theo is reaching for Eddie’s hand, and not his own. 

There’s nothing. Nothing at all. Buck just feels… happy.  

“You want me to go up with you?” Eddie asks, hunching over a bit to get closer to his level. Theo nods. 

“Alright, you go, I’ll stay here, keep watch,” Buck says, stopping about halfway between the porch and the sidewalk; Eddie throws him a smile over his shoulder and—fuck. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he managed to somehow find Eddie Diaz, it’s not fair that they managed to entangle themselves in each other's lives so intricately they’ll never find their way out, and it’s certainly not fair that he’s allowed to smile at him like that—while looking like that. While holding Theo’s hand, because Theo is scared, and Eddie is always gonna be there to—

“Danny?” 

The question rips Buck out of his own head, and he turns around to see a woman roughly his own age—give or take five years. The all-black leather outfit is impressively accurate—the entire costume is, honestly, all the way up to the hairstyle; admittedly, it’s black and not blonde, but that almost makes it more impressive, because it’s clear she’s not wearing a wig. 

“Ah…” Buck sounds, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket as a group of kids—hers, he can only assume—rushes past them, towards the porch. “A hickey from Kenickie is better than any Hallmark card,” he quotes with a shrug. “Sorry to disappoint—Danny’s up there,” he adds, using his head to gesture up towards the house. “My son wanted to be Sandy—thankfully not this one, but you look great—and between Eddie and I, it was pretty obvious who was meant to be Zuko,” he grins. 

“Oh, they look great,” she says, only briefly looking over in their direction before dragging her attention back to Buck. “It’s so refreshing to see a dad who lets his son express himself, he looks so happy.” 

It’s the bare minimum, in Buck’s opinion, and yet the praise lands right behind his ribs, the warmth blooming. 

“Yeah, I uh… was kinda regretting it when I was scrambling to find a dress he thought was good enough—”

“—how many stores? Two?” she asks; Buck winces, and she laughs. “Four?” 

“Five,” he admits sheepishly, and they both break out into laughter. “I know, I know, but—”

A warmth at the small of his back cuts him off; for a brief moment, he thinks he’s somehow managed to be in the way, despite the fact that there’s more than enough space on the stone walkway. 

“These people were exclusively handing out chocolate bars, I’m sorry,” Eddie’s voice is not… right in his ear by any means, but it’s certainly closer than either of them are accustomed to. Not to mention the warmth of his body pressed to Buck’s side—which is, once again, not anything extreme, but… close, nonetheless. “I’ll deal with the sugar-rush, figure it’s my turn anyway after all the ice-cream you’ve been sneaking Chris over the years.” 

“Uh…” is all Buck is able to get out as he turns his head to meet his eyes. Dark, and warm, and… something else, and his hand is still on the small of Buck’s back, and—

Buck is fairly sure that the woman greets Eddie—fairly sure that she compliments Theo—and then she’s gone, and they’re back on the sidewalk, and Eddie’s hand is gone from his back, but for some reason he can still feel it. 

Like a brand. 

What the hell was that? Was that out of the ordinary, or is he just going crazy? 

Crazy, he decides. Probably. For sure. 


Buck decides to forget all about it—at least for a while, and he does a decent job of it, far too busy following Theo to the next house, and the next, and the next. 

Eventually, however—inevitably—the hour grows later, and Theo visibly tired, Eddie eventually giving in, reaching down to pick him up, hitching him high onto his hip as Buck takes custody over the bucket—which is now filled to the absolute brim. 

Of course they’re still in Buck’s neighborhood, but they have managed to wander a good fifteen minutes away from home, so in comfortable silence, they end up on a park bench, both of them sighing with relief. 

“God, that’s embarrassing—we’re firefighters,” Buck notes; Eddie huffs in amusement. 

“You’re getting old, bud.” 

“We’re the same age,” Buck points out. 

“In what world does me being an entire year younger than you equate to us being the same age, Buck?” Eddie asks, both of them doing a fantastic job maintaining the bickering momentum they’re used to, while simultaneously keeping their voices quiet enough not to disturb Theo—who, by now, is absolutely knocked out, snoring into Eddie’s neck.

“Ah—three hundred and sixty four days,” Buck argues. “That's not a full year, and I’m pretty sure it was a leap year, which means—”

“—fine, we’re both growing old,” Eddie gives in—the width of his smile nearly taking Buck’s breath away. No, not nearly—completely. It does. The flush upon his cheeks is akin to what he looks like with a few drinks in his system, but that's not the case tonight—no, he just looks… so goddamn happy. “You good with that?” 

“Yes. Thank you,” Buck nods, a hand on his chest as he performs a half-assed, shallow bow. For the bit. 

There’s a lull in the conversation, then—and maybe Buck should look away, but… how could he possibly do so? Eddie’s just… sitting there, under a warm streetlight, somehow more beautiful than he’s ever been—his arms gently cradling Buck’s sleeping son to his chest, chin resting softly atop the silky curls. 

“I’m sorry, by the way,” Eddie speaks up, before Buck can think of anything else to say. Buck feels a faint crease of confusion develop between his eyebrows. “For, uh…” he trails off to look down towards Theo, making sure he’s still sleeping; the angle briefly gives him the faintest hint of a double chin. God, Buck wants to kiss it; he thinks he’s in physical pain as he reckons with the reality that he’s not allowed to do so. “...cockblocking you back there,” Eddie whispers. “I was… jealous, I guess.” 

Buck feels his frown grow deeper; it takes him a moment to dig through his brain before he even realizes what Eddie is referring to. 

“Oh… oh,” he says, the second one just a tad too loud, which he quickly reins in as he opens his mouth again. “Oh, you didn't—it’s—I mean—she wasn’t—”

“—she was,” Eddie says, lifting a brow. And… thinking back on it, yeah, maybe she was—Buck isn’t usually clueless about these things, but tonight, he simply hadn’t… cared enough to pay attention. 

“Well, I—I could have gone ahead with Theo, if you… I mean if you’d wanted to… I just, I mean, I didn't know you were back to dating, you've been swearing off of it, I could have—”

“—I’m gay.” 

The words should land heavily. The words should take the air out of the… park. The words should throw Buck backwards with the amount of shock they bring.

They don’t. 

And they don't—not because Buck is not surprised, but simply because of the way in which Eddie speaks those two, monumental words. 

Not with frustration. Not with passion. Not flippantly. 

No, those two words… Eddie says them with an exhale. 

Eddie says them with the most peaceful smile Buck thinks he’s ever witnessed upon his lips. Eddie says them with Theo’s hair tickling his chin as he keeps on snoring into his neck. Eddie says them with his big, warm eyes steadfastly focused on Buck’s. There aren’t any stars visible in Los Angeles, and yet Buck remains convinced he sees constellations reflected in those beautiful eyes. 

Eddie says those words… and those words are not a question, nor do they land with the weight of a heavy confession—those words are just that… those words. 

“I know this about myself,” is what Buck reads in his tone. In his eyes. In the flush of his cheeks. “It’s not a theory. I’m not questioning anything. Sharing this information with you changes everything. I know that. So I didn’t. Not until I was ready. I’m ready now.” 

“That's why you’re floating,” Buck says. It’s hardly eloquent—perhaps even worthy of a chuckle, but neither of them laugh. Instead, Eddie’s peaceful smile simply stretches a tad wider, his eyes brighter. 

“Yeah, Buck,” he confirms. “That’s why I’m floating.” 

They drift closer together—not too close; Theo is still between them, literally and metaphorically at this very moment—but close enough that Buck brings a hand up, chancing a gentle swipe of his thumb over the minuscule birthmark under Eddie’s eye. 

Eddie’s arms remain occupied, making sure not to jostle the sleeping child, but the way he leans into the warmth of Buck’s palm when he fits it to the side of his face—that says more than enough. 

“And you, uhm…” Buck trails off, clearing his throat as quietly as possible, his mouth suddenly very dry. “...you, uh…” he looks Eddie up and down—admittedly, most of his view is blocked, but it’s more for emphasis anyhow; he’s making a point. “...you—you decided to put me through the torture of spending an entire night with you—looking like this, being all good with him,” he nods down to Theo. “Just… the perfect husband material, everything you gotta know I want with you—before you told me?” Buck tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes; he’s going for something playful, but realistically, he knows there’s no way he could possibly be coming across as anything but fond and ridiculously in love. 

Eddie clicks his tongue quietly, lifting his head slightly; Buck’s lower body is a bit further away than he would like to be, so the way he’s compensating by leaning forward has Eddie—on a rare occasion—looking down at him. Not a lot, perhaps not even visibly so, but just barely enough that he can feel it; especially when Eddie’s eyes drift down to his lips, leaving Buck to admire his eyelashes. 

“Husband, huh?” he hums, and then, before Buck is able to formulate a response: “And says you. You’re lucky I stuck to the plan. Second I saw that jacket, I almost didn't.” 

“Plan?” Buck asks, straightening up, just a bit, leaving them looking straight into each other’s eyes once again. There was more to what Eddie just said, he’s sure—but nothing he’s able to focus on right now. “This was the plan?” 

“Well—I didn't really foresee the park bench, I was gonna wait until he was tucked in bed, but… yeah, Buck,” he nods, nudging his chin down and to the side, chasing the hand that has now fallen down to his neck; Buck obliges, fitting it back to the side of Eddie’s face, cradling him like the treasure he is, the happy hum he gets in response going straight into his heart, straight into his bones. “Yeah, I was gonna tell you tonight.” 

Buck nods—and it takes all of the strength in the world to pull away, to put distance between them—but he does it anyway, turning around to quietly sort through the bucket sitting on the bench behind him. 

“Buck—”

“—wait,” Buck whispers back. “Ah-hah,” he rips the plastic quickly before he turns back, holding the ring-pop out between them. 

“Presumptuous,” Eddie notes, but his cheek is resting on top of Theo’s head, and he’s never looked happier. Never looked softer. Never looked more like forever. 

“I mean, I can always give it to someone else—”

“—no, no—like hell you are, bud—belongs right here,” Eddie says, careful not to jostle Theo too much as he sacrifices one arm to reach his left hand out, presenting it to Buck. 

“I mean, technically, I haven't even asked—”

“—so ask,” Eddie says. Buck swallows, looking at his face, and then down at his hand. Then over to the bright green ring-pop in his own. 

“I was, uhm…” Buck, again, clears his throat. Quietly, although this time it has less to do with Theo, and more to do with the fact that he suddenly feels… emotional. “I was kinda doing this as a bit, but I was, um… I—I was thinking about it before, you look so good, and you’re just… you’re Eddie…” he says, still looking down at their hands, feeling the weight of Eddie’s warm gaze on his face. 

Eddie must be affected too, because Buck pauses, waiting for the inevitable “Yeah. I’m Eddie,” or perhaps, if he feels like being a bit more on theme: “That’s my name, don't wear it out.” It never comes. 

“Thought if I thought you'd say yes, I’d find one of these, and just… ask you right there. Middle of the sidewalk.” 

“Think this is even better,” Eddie whispers. Buck looks up at him. Neither of them are crying—it’s not emotional in that sense, at least not yet. Who knows what might happen in a few hours or a few days once Buck actually starts to process all of this. No, they're not crying, it’s just… there’s so much love in Eddie’s eyes that it nearly looks as if he is, and Buck knows he carries the same expression to greet him. It’s what they do. Match. Mirror. Meet in the middle. Always. 

“Will you?” Buck asks. “Marry me?” 

“Yes.” That makes three words that have all left Eddie’s lips with the same peaceful exhale tonight. I’m gay. Yes. Either way—not an ounce of hesitation. 

Buck strangles the happy chuckle that wants to leave his throat, fully aware it would be loud enough to wake Theo; instead he focuses on fitting the ring-pop onto Eddie’s ring finger. Which he manages—well, it fits right past the first knuckle, but he’ll call it a win. 

“Now come here—kiss me,” Eddie orders, picking his head up, chin brushing Theo’s curls as he nods once, beckoning Buck over as his hand finds the collar of his jacket, giant candy diamond bumping up against his neck. 

“Yes, Sir,” Buck smiles, leaning closer, wrapping his own hand around the back of his neck. “Just, uh…” he says as he carefully angles himself in a way that gets their faces close, yet keeps a maximum amount of space between the rest of their bodies. If they jostle Theo, and he wakes up just in time to interrupt their first kiss, well, that might actually bring Buck to tears. “Just stay still, don’t wake him up—hickies from Kenickie when he’s in bed, alright?” he jokes—in response receiving a quiet snort, a headshake, and the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen, complete with exposed canines. 

“That was so bad, you’re so—mphm.” 

The sound Eddie makes when Buck slots their mouths together is one he knows he’ll remember for all eternity. 

The same way he’ll remember the following hum that escapes their noses in unison. The same way he’ll remember the warmth of Eddie’s lips closing around his bottom-lip, and the scent of his aftershave, and the faint scratch of his late-night stubble against the inside of his own top lip. 

It’s not deep—admittedly, they’re toeing the line for what would be appropriate, were Theo awake, but considering he’s asleep, it’s just fine. No tongues, no pulling apart, or coming back together—just one kiss; one deep, lingering, dizzying, electrifying kiss. 

Buck isn't sure how long they stay there—twenty seconds, maybe thirty; they pull away at the same time, lips parting with a quiet, slick sound, peaceful sighs leaving them both as Buck happily accepts the weight of Eddie’s forehead against his own. 

“Well.” 

“Mhm.” 

“You’re the one that I want,” they say in perfect unison. The following laughter is the culprit for finally jostling Theo out of his sleep, but that’s okay; Buck takes over, hiking the exhausted boy up onto his hip as he stands up. 

With one arm around his son, and his other hand interlaced with Eddie’s, Buck puts one foot in front of the other, ready to bring them all home. 

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