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Eddie notices it on a Tuesday.
Not because Tuesdays are special. They aren’t at all, really. Tuesdays are usually chaos and school forms and forgotten lunches and Theo deciding that pants are a personal attack against him specifically. Tuesdays are work and traffic and trying to remember whether Christopher has occupational therapy this week or next and if one of them managed to go to the grocery store or if it was going to be a doordash kind of week.
But, maybe that's why it all hits him then.
Because nothing extraordinary is happening. Buck is just standing in the kitchen barefoot in gray sweatpants and one of Eddie’s old LAFD shirts that fits too tight across the shoulders, hips swaying slightly to music coming from his phone speaker while stirring pasta sauce like he doesn't have a care in the world.
Theo is sitting on the counter “helping,” which mostly means stealing shredded cheese by the fistful while Buck acts like he doesn't see it. Meanwhile Christopher is at the table pretending to do homework while actually watching the kitchen with a shake of his head and probably wondering if he could also manage to steal some cheese without a complaint.
Eddie walks through the front door after shift and immediately feels the tension leave his shoulders as he drops his duffle by the door, slipping his boots off to the side and throwing his keys into the dish on the side table. It's one of those little gifts that kids bring home from preschool or early grades, a little ceramic thing with too much mode podge and a copious amount of glitter caked into every crevice. He takes a deep breath and looks around the dark living room, just listening for a moment to the noises from the kitchen and the bright laugh that could have come from no one but his boyfriend, followed by the groan of his teenager and that additional little giggle that Eddie can't imagine not having in his home anymore.
Home.
The realization lands so suddenly it nearly knocks the air out of him and he steps into the soft light of the kitchen. It's in the quiet moment where he's just watching, before any of them notice him.
I’m going to marry this man.
It’s not dramatic. There’s no lightning strike or pouring rain. No swelling music that takes over and fills the air around him. No earth-shattering revelation or anything that feels like being hit in the chest.
It's just certainty in all of its terrifying complexity.
Buck glances up at the sound of the door closing, his entire face lighting up immediately. “Hey, baby.”
Theo whips around so fast Eddie genuinely worries he’s going to fall off the counter. “Eddie!”
“I’m here,” Eddie laughs automatically, dropping to a crouch just in time to catch Theo as Buck lifts him down off the counter like a sack of potatoes.
Theo collides with Eddie at full speed, all skinny limbs and sticky fingers as it knocks the breath out of him. “He ate the cheese!” The toddler informs him in what he must think is a whisper, but really isn't.
Buck gasps in mock offense from across the room. “Wow. Snitch.”
“You said no more cheese!”
“And yet somehow the cheese keeps disappearing. Weird.”
Christopher snorts from the table without looking up. “It’s because your parenting style is basically just vibes.”
Buck points the wooden spoon at him. “First of all, rude.”
“You let Theo convince you popsicles count as breakfast last week.”
“In my defense,” Buck says, turning back to the stove, “he made some compelling arguments.”
Theo beams proudly like this is a great achievement as Eddie stands there holding him and watches Buck move around the kitchen with easy familiarity. He knows where everything is now. Which drawer sticks. Which burner runs hot. Which cabinet Theo can reach if he drags a chair over.
He belongs here. They belong here. All of them. Together. The thought should probably still scare Eddie a little. It really hasn't been that long. A few months actually together, only about a month of being honest with their friends and family. But, it hasn't been scary at all. It's always settled into him like a natural progression, like a next step that his heart had prepared for long before his brain could catch up.
Buck tastes the sauce and grimaces. “Needs something.”
“Salt,” Christopher and Eddie say at the same time.
Buck points between them with a roll of his eyes. “See? This is bullying.”
“You’re a terrible cook,” Eddie says affectionately. And it's not true, not really. His boyfriend has been great in the kitchen for years now thanks to patience and Bobby's mentorship, but there's always a little twinge of something going wrong or a piece of the recipe he ignores. It's fun to hassle him and both Eddie and Chris know the other man doesn't take it truly to heart.
Buck presses a hand to his chest. “Wow. I slave away over a hot stove for this family and this is the thanks I get?”
“You made garlic bread once and forgot the garlic.”
“That was one time.”
“You also burned soup.”
“How do you even burn soup?” Chris raises an eyebrow from the table, Buck just throwing a dishtowel at him across the room which causes Theo to laugh hard enough that he starts to hiccup.
And God–
God, Eddie loves this.
The noise. The warmth. The clutter of backpacks by the door and Theo’s crayons scattered across the counter and Christopher’s sock inexplicably hanging from the light fixture because apparently teenagers are just “like that,” sometimes.
For so long Eddie thought love was supposed to feel consuming and big. He thought that there was supposed to be pain and strife. Big fights and bigger struggles just to get to the end of the day.
Shannon had been young love and sharp edges and wanting so desperately to make something work that they kept cutting themselves open trying. Every relationship after her had just been out of duty and obligation, his heart never fully in it, never truly dedicated to the women who deserved far more than he could ever give them.
But this?
This is easy in a way Eddie never thought he deserved.
Not effortless. Their lives are still messy and complicated and sometimes Buck forgets to switch the laundry and sometimes Eddie shuts down when he’s stressed and Theo has nightmares and Christopher worries too much and there are still shifts that end badly enough Eddie comes home raw around the edges and doesn't know how to talk about it. And they still fight, get under each other's skin in the worst ways on bad, overwhelming days.
But it's easy because they choose each other anyway. Every day. There isn't a doubt in Eddie's mind when it comes to Buck. Never has been, and the slow tip from friends into more felt as natural as Eddie thinks it could be. So no, not effortless, but easy. Easy because this is real, actual love. The kind that maybe a few years ago he didn't think truly xisted.
Buck turns around again, smiling softly this time as he makes eye contact with Eddie across the countertop. “You gonna keep standing there staring at me or are you gonna come kiss me hello?”
Christopher makes a loud gagging noise that Theo copies immediately despite not fully understanding why but wanting to be in on the joke. He's been doing that a lot lately. Copying Chris. And it makes Eddie's chest tighten every time.
Buck looks delighted. “Aw. We’re embarrassing the kids.”
“You’re impossible,” Eddie says, but he crosses the kitchen anyway and Buck meets him halfway, one hand sliding automatically around his waist.
The kiss is brief because Theo immediately wedges himself between them yelling, “my turn!” Buck laughing into Eddie's shoulder before leaning down to place a kiss against soft, unruly curls.
This is the thing people mean when they talk about forever, Eddie thinks to himself. It's not about the big moments like anniversaries or loud declarations or expensive rings. It's all about…this. About the little moments and the quiet. It's about sticky toddler hands that demand kisses and the eye roll of a teenager who smiles at th became time anyway. It's the smell of red sauce and humming from the kitchen and a family meal sat around a table full of joy and laughter.
It's about their family and the thought that still catches Eddie off guard.
Christopher had accepted Buck with startling ease years ago, slipping him into their lives like there had always been a space waiting for him. And Theo–sweet, impulsive little Theo–had attached himself to Buck almost instantly after moving in, following him around with complete trust and Buck never hesitated. Not for either of them and not for Eddie either.
Not when Theo cried for hours after a nightmare the first week he stayed with them or when Chris struggled with jealousy and sharing space and attention when they had finally figured it all out and combined into one family unit. Not even when Eddie himself panicked quietly over how much there was to lose now and how bad he was at keeping things together.
Through it all Buck stayed. He was steady and patient, loving them each through it all.
“You okay?” Buck asks softly, voice cutting through Eddie’s internal monologue as he realizes that everyone is staring at him.
Christopher’s expression has gone curious and while Theo is busy trying to climb Buck like he's some kind of jungle gym, the other man looks almost concerned as he stares at Eddie, who hadn't even realized he'd gone quiet, too wrapped up in appreciating a fantasy come to life.
“Yeah,” he says, voice rougher than intended when he finally speaks. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Buck studies him for another second like he doesn’t fully believe that, but then Theo starts chanting about garlic bread and the moment passes and flows into a loud family dinner where Theo refuses to eat anything green on principle and Chris can barely get through a story about his science class without giggling between the words.
Buck accidentally knocks over his own water glass with dramatic outrage and at one point Theo crawls directly into Eddie’s lap mid-meal because apparently chairs are optional now. As if that hadn't been an issue from the very beginning, but Eddie can't seem to want to force him into sitting in a chair the correct way. He'll never admit it, but he really does have a soft spot for the toddler stage, no matter how difficult it is. And getting to watch a little kid grow up like a mini version of his best friend and partner? It's kind of the best thing in the world.
It’s normal. Beautifully, wonderfully normal. And Eddie keeps getting hit with these flashes of unbearable affection as he just tries to get through their dinner. He looks at Buck cutting up theos food into smaller pieces like it's second nature and Chris reaching to steal a pieces of bread off of Buck's plate because he knows the other man won't stop him. He feels the hand against his shoulder when Buck gets up to get another drink or their fingers brushing and knees knocking against each other under the table, as if they can't stop reaching, finding each other in every small moment.
After dinner, Chris disappears down the hall claiming homework, which Eddie knows probably actually means video games. Maybe he does have something to work on and he trusts his kids but he's still a teenager and Eddie remembers what that was like. In fact, Chris himself is literally the perfect example of why Eddie doesn't fully trust a teenager, no matter how trustworthy and wonderful they are.
Theo immediately starts whining that he’s not tired despite rubbing his eyes every thirty seconds and Buck starts loading the dishwasher while Eddie wipes down the table. He takes Theo down the hallway after a few moments, leaving the toddler to his own devices with a coloring book hoping for just a few moments of peace before the bedtime ritual begins.
“You know,” Buck says casually after a few minutes of companiable silence. “Theo uh– he told John at daycare today that I’m his dad.”
“Oh?”
Eddie tries not to react but he knows that he's failed when Buck just shrugs quickly, eyes focused on the dishes in front of him, soapy hands moving in consistent and familiar patterns. “I uh–i know we told him that he can call us whatever he wants but i– I don't want either of to ya know, to feel weird about it.
There’s something careful in his tone that twists painfully in Eddie’s chest. It's like somehow Buck still isn't entirely sure that he's allowed to have this. Whether the this is their relationship or their family or even just Theo. It's like he thinks he doesn't belong in this life completely, like he somehow believes he'll find himself ousted from it all any minute.
Eddie sets his rag down slowly, focusing away from the task at hand. “How did you feel about it?”
Buck huffs a laugh. “Honestly? I almost cried in the parking lot.”
Eddie’s throat tightens.
Buck finally turns around, leaning back against the counter. “I know I’m not–” He gestures vaguely. “You know. But if he wants me to be that for him, I want to do it right. And I don't want–i don't know. We–chris struggled at the beginning and I-” he pauses to take a deep breath.
“Im having a lot of feelings about it and I'm not sure what to do with them all if I'm honest.”
And there it is. Communication. The one thing that Eddie has always been terrible at. The thing that is why they're in different versions of therapy 3 times a week, just trying to keep themselves and their family whole. Eddie can't help that he feels like a failure in that way most days. But he also knows that progress isn't linear and for as many problems as he has, Buck has equally as many of his own.
“You already are,” is what he settles on after a long moment. “Doing it right, I mean. We're both doing our best and that's what matter here.”
Buck goes still as Eddie stares at him, trying to impart how much he means every word. Theo may be Buck’s biologically, but Chris isn't and he's never been anything less than a second parent to that kid and Eddie's been grateful for every moment. Buck is kind and loving and generous in all the ways that matter and both of their kids are lucky, Eddie knows that wholeheartedly. The biology and early years don't matter, not when Buck loves them both like it's as easy as breathing.
And maybe that’s what finally breaks something open in Eddie tonight and gives him The understanding that this isn’t temporary happiness he has to hold carefully before it disappears. This is his life. Their life. The one their building together in a weird mish-mash, but something that's fully and uniquely theirs.
Buck looks at him for a long moment with big soft eyes that are unbearably open. And Eddie wants to sink to one knee right there. Wash rag in his hand and no ring in sight, just wanting Buck to know that he wants this. Forever.
He sets the rag down, takes a step forward, and–
Theo runs into the kitchen wearing one sock and no pants yelling, “snack!” Shattering the moment instantly.
Buck sighs dramatically as he dries his hand off on his already haggered sweatpants. “Buddy, where are your pants?”
“No.”
“That did not answer my question.”
Theo grins and runs away again little feet passing down the hallway still murmuring about his bedtime snack as if he hadn't just eaten dinner less than an hour before. Eddie dreads to think about their grocery bill once this kid turns 13, but luckily they've got a little bit of time left before the worst about that will kick in.
Buck drags a hand down his face. “I’m too young to be this tired.”
“You’re 35, Buck.”
“Ancient, apparently.”
Eddie laughs before he can stop himself and Buck smiles immediately at the sound like it’s his favorite thing in the world.
And there it is again. The feeling.
I’m going to marry him.
Not now. Not immediately. But…some day. Some day Eddie is going to do it right and ask Buck to make this family even more permanent. Someday he's going to stand across from Buck and promise him forever because there is no version of Eddie’s future anymore that doesn’t have Buck in it. There's not a moment of his life moving forward that he doesn't want to wake up next to this man and take on the world together. They circled each other for far too long and Eddie isn't willing to give up a single second of their future together.
The realization should maybe feel heavier than it does. But instead of panic or concern, he only feels peace. It's like he finally understands something that's been growing quietly inside him for years, poking at him from every angle, desperately trying to get him to see the truth of it all. That what he has amways wanted, what he's needed, was right in front of him the entire time.
Later, after Theo is finally asleep starfished across Buck’s chest during story time and Christopher has retreated to his room for the night promising only one more hour on discord with Denny and the other kids from school, Eddie finds Buck on the couch.
He looks utterly exhausted with dark circles under his eyes and dried pasta sauce sticking to his shirt. His curls are messy, sticking up in 3 different directions.
He's beautiful.
Buck glances over from his phone, the tiredness seeping into his voice. “Hey.”
Eddie doesn’t answer immediately. He stands there for a moment and just looks. Just takes in the appearance of the man he loves and tilts his head in what he hopes comes across as a curious way.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re plotting something. You've got that look. ”
And okay, maybe he is. But Buck doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. So, instead of answering he simply sighs, crossing the room slowly and sinks onto the couch beside his partner, Buck immediately leaning into his space like it's automatic.
“You happy?”
Buck blinks. “That’s random.”
“Answer me.”
Buck looks at him carefully then. Really carefully, like he's trying to figure out Eddie like he's some sort of puzzle.
“With you?” he says softly after a moment, possibly fishing what he had been searching for. “Yeah. More than I knew was possible.”
There's a pause before Buck nudges his knee gently. “You okay tonight?”
Eddie looks toward the hallway where their boys are sleeping. Chris probably with one headphone still in because he never remembers to take them out and Theo curled around the stuffed dinosaur Buck won for him at the pier a few weeks ago that the kid refuses to put down at any cost. Then back to Buck. At his home. His future.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, and this time he means it completely, not a sliver of doubt in his mind. “I think I am.”
Buck smiles, sleepy and warm around the edges.
And Eddie thinks, I want this forever.
Not the perfect version of some imaginary life without fear or mess or hard days. But this one. The one where Buck burns garlic bread because he's busy and Theo refuses to put on pants before daycare and Chris pretends that he's too cool for family movie night even though it's his favorite night of the week. The one with inside jokes and crowded dinner tables and rough shifts and quiet, gentle touches.
All of it.
He wants all of it for the rest of his life.
Buck yawns beside him, once again pulling Eddie out of his own mind.
“C’mere,” he murmurs.
Buck immediately folds against him, trusting and easy as Eddie wraps an arm around his shoulders and presses a kiss into his hair.
And somewhere deep inside himself, something settles fully into place. Not an ending to anything l, but not a beginning either. Just clarity and a simple, undeniable truth.
This is the man Eddie wants beside him for every remaining Tuesday of his life.
And maybe, just maybe it’s time he starts thinking about what to do with that realization.