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Summary
“Can you pass the salt?” Buck asks him in a perfectly civil tone at lunch.
“No,” Eddie says hotly. “You’re not in love with me. Go find your own salt.”
Buck startles so hard his knee jerks up, bumping into the table with a loud thud. Chimney gasps and Hen drops her fork, and Ravi’s staring at the two of them wide–eyed, pasta half shovelled into his mouth.
“I—” Buck says, cheeks pink.“Eddie, pass the fucking salt.”
“Nope,” Eddie says, quite calmly considering the absolute chaos going on inside his head.“Shan’t.”
Buck swears colorfully, scrubbing his palms on his face. “Eddie. Come on, man. Don’t make this more mortifying than it already is.”
“Make what mortifying?” Eddie asks, sipping water. “The fact that you’re not in love with me, or the fact that you’ve been telling all of LA that?”
Buck’s face flames red. “Eddie,” he hisses, scandalised. “Keep your voice down!”
“You certainly weren’t,” Eddie says, sniffing. He twirls the pasta on his fork, staring down at it.
or, buck HOWLS that he is not in love with eddie, and there's a love confession somewhere in there.