Archive of Our Own

Another failed apartment viewing sends Buck back to 4995 South Bedford Street with his tail tucked in between his legs. He’s not looking forward to telling his best friend that yes, it’s been two months since Eddie moved back to LA and Bobby died, and no, he still hasn’t found a place to live. Yes, they will have to continue their couch-bed-couch-bed rotation for the foreseeable future. 

He sighs as he climbs out of his truck and trudges up the walkway to the front door, all the way into the kitchen where he finds Eddie at the island with sandwich supplies spread out in front of him. 

Buck stops for a minute, allows himself the moment to notice the way Eddie’s t-shirt stretches over his shoulders and dips in at his waist. Lets himself watch Eddie’s muscles move beneath the fabric as he reaches for the bag of deli turkey they purchased during their most recent grocery store trip. 

Because Buck can rarely enter a room without Eddie noticing, his admiration time is cut short by Eddie glancing over his shoulder and throwing Buck a smile. It’s a quiet smile, one that feels like a whisper.

He can’t help but be a little envious of Eddie in this moment. How he’s just able to make a sandwich. Casually throw a smile over his shoulder. Buck feels like everything recently takes such monumental effort out of him. He feels too much, all the time.

Eddie’s got an unhealthy hold on his emotions most of the time, Buck knows that. He knows Eddie’s working on it, knows Eddie doesn’t want to be that way. But sometimes, he can’t help but wish for it for himself. So he could turn it all off, just for a moment. So he doesn’t have to feel that Bobby is dead and he’s in love with his straight best friend and there is absolutely nothing he can do about either of those things.

“Hey,” Eddie says before turning back to his sandwich.

Buck walks further into the room, throws himself down into a chair across from Eddie. 

“Where were you?” Eddie asks. 

Buck reaches out for a pickle Eddie just placed neatly on his sandwich. His hand gets swatted, but there’s a small grin on Eddie’s face. Buck pops the pickle into his mouth. “Apartment tour,” Buck answers on a crunch. 

He might be imagining it, but he thinks the smile drops from Eddie’s face at the same time the words leave his mouth. 

Eddie clears his throat, closes the pickle jar. “Yeah? How was it?”

Buck winces. “Another pass.” Eddie’s shoulders tense. God, he has to get out of here, leave Eddie and Chris in peace to mend their relationship. But he also desperately needs to explain why he can’t just choose anywhere. 

“It’s just. I. None of them have what I need, you know? I want it to be accessible for Chris, preferably no stairs. I’d like a second bedroom for Chris or Jee or even RJ to stay in when he gets older. Maybe a third, actually in case more than one person wants to stay.” He knows he’s rambling, but he continues because he knows Eddie’s listening (he’s stopped sandwich preparation for now and is watching Buck with patient eyes). 

“And I want a big kitchen. Not huge, but one I can bake in and make dinner in, and so Chris can get around easily – especially for our weekly dinners.” Buck purses his lips. “And I know it’s a lot to ask for in LA, but I’ve loved having the backyard. I’ve loved learning how to garden.” Another pause. Eddie’s still watching him. “And price range, distance to the station, distance to here… It’s all a lot to ask for and I know that, but. I don’t want to settle. Not now.” 

Eddie shifts on his heels at that. “‘Not now?’ What do you mean by that?” 

“I’m almost in my mid-thirties and I’m living on my best friend’s couch,” Buck says, as if that’s obvious reason enough.

“Slash bed,” Eddie adds. “And that’s my fault. You had a nice place, then I had to go and screw it all up.” 

Buck can’t stand that. Eddie thinking he’s done some huge disservice to Buck by going after Chris, who Buck loves endlessly. Thinks he’s put Buck out somehow. Thinks he somehow made Buck give up his loft. Ruined his life. “Stop,” he says. “You didn’t screw anything up. I wanted to do that for you.” He catches himself at the last second, “And Chris.” 

It’s not that Chris wasn’t a factor in Buck’s decision, that much is obvious. But he can’t say he wasn’t primarily thinking about easing a burden for Eddie, carrying some of the weight he never lets anyone else touch – only Buck occasionally, and Buck usually has to fight him for a little bit of the load. 

“Anyway,” Buck continues. “I’ve just been thinking… with Bobby gone, it’s really put things into perspective for me. Life is really short, y’know? Could be even shorter when you do the job we do. I’m ready to settle, I’m ready to find my own place and really build something. A life. I think I-I think I deserve that.” 

***

Buck does deserve that, Eddie thinks. Buck deserves everything. 

And he should be happy for Buck, he knows he should. There is a little bit of warmth in his stomach, but it’s overpowered by the cold nausea washing over him. For an unknown reason, Buck’s words make him feel like someone’s just tied weights around his ankles, took him out on a boat, and thrown him into the ocean. 

He doesn’t want Buck to go, he knows that much. Despite the loss of Bobby, these past two months have truly helped Eddie. He knows he’s happy with what he has, happy he has Buck here, happy to find Buck in the kitchen making pancakes in the morning or in the living room arguing over video games with Chris. 

He doesn’t know why he and Buck didn’t consider living together sooner, to be completely honest. Like everything else, they’re on the same page. They work. They move around each other seamlessly, fitting into each other’s pockets like they were meant to. 

The point – he wishes Buck would stop looking at apartments. He knows the current sleeping situation is untenable, but there has to be a solution. Bunk beds? 

He shakes his head and slides the finished sandwich over to Buck. At some point he realized he’d been making it to Buck’s specifications, anyway. 

Buck looks up at him, expression slightly confused. Not for the first time, Eddie thinks, God, he’s beautiful . He hasn’t unpacked that. Doesn’t feel the need to right now. It’s an objective fact of life to him – the sky is blue, the grass is green, and Buck is beautiful. 

“Made it for you on autopilot,” Eddie shrugs. He loves the way his words make Buck’s mouth pull up at the corners. 

He hesitates before pulling out two more pieces of bread. “Listen, I understand what you’re saying. But if you want the perfect place, then find it. There is absolutely no rush – at least not on my end. You can stay here as long as you need to.” 

Buck smiles fully and Eddie lets out a breath. He can breathe easier when Buck’s smiling, even if it has been making his heart constrict and his stomach do funny things ever since he got back from Texas. 

“Thanks, Eddie.”

***

Their kitchen conversation seems to open up a floodgate of good luck from the universe for Buck. (Not that Eddie’s started believing in any of that…) 

It hasn’t been more than three days before Buck’s walking into the house with a grin and announcing to Eddie, “I found a place!” 

Eddie tries not to choke on his beer. He sets it down carefully, but his fingers feel clumsy on the glass. His chest tightens, like someone’s tied a rope around it and pulled. He turns around to face Buck. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s great. Fifteen minutes from the station and twenty from here. There are only two bedrooms, but room to put up a flex wall to make a third. And it’ll be super easy for Chris to move around. The backyard is even bigger than yours!” 

This is such terrible news. His heart sinks. Why is this such terrible news? Shouldn’t he be happy? He sort of is… He just doesn’t want Buck to go. Not like this. Not to somewhere he isn’t part of. 

“Oh, um. That sounds great, Buck.” It sounds awful. A flex wall? Is that really Buck’s definition of “settling down?” He feels like an asshole for thinking it, but Buck deserves a true three bedroom if that’s what he wants. 

Buck disappears into the kitchen for a second and Eddie tries to slow down his suddenly rapid heartbeat. 

When he comes back, Buck’s got a beer in his hand and he flops down on the couch next to Eddie. “And I’m sure it’ll be no problem once they receive the absolutely glowing recommendation from my previous landlord.” His grin is so big. Eddie wants to touch his teeth with the pads of his fingers, which is a new and very weird thought. 

He’s only had one beer, right? 

“Patrick?” Eddie asks, still staring at Buck’s smile.

Buck laughs, shoving his shoulder into Eddie’s playfully. “ You , idiot.” 

And oh. Right. He technically was/is Buck’s landlord and current roommate. He musters up the courage to laugh back. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Anything you need.”

“I’ll be out of your hair in no time,” Buck says.

Eddie’s throat closes. He nods, because it’s all he can do. But inside? Inside, it feels like something’s being torn away from him. 

Eddie thinks he might throw up. 

***

The first time it happens, Eddie doesn’t know what comes over him. It’s like he’s possessed.

His phone rings while he’s folding laundry, pairing together two of Buck’s dog-themed socks when he answers and hears, “Hi, is this Eddie Diaz?”

“Yes,” he responds. 

“Hi, this is Claire Thornton with Thornton & Duncan Realty, I’m calling for a reference for Mr. Evan Buckley? He’s applied to one of our properties recently, so we’re reaching out before approval,” the woman on the other end of the line says. 

Eddie’s stomach drops. Then the possession happens. “Oh, uh. Evan Buckley. Right.”

Claire chuckles. “That doesn’t sound like a great start.” 

“I- listen. He’s a good guy, but an awful tenant,” Eddie feels like he’s watching himself from outside his body as the words leave his mouth. What is he doing ? 

“Oh?” Claire waits for him to continue. 

Eddie scrambles, blurting out the first thing he can think of, “I don’t know what your pet policy is, but he’s got a big heart. Really loves animals, constantly picking up strays and bringing them in.” 

“Oh,” Claire laughs. “That’s no big deal. Our pet policy is pretty flexible.” 

Fuck.

“It’s not just the animals,” Eddie rushes out. “He’s late on rent a lot. Terrible with his finances.” 

“Well, that’s definitely something to take into consideration…” Claire trails off. 

Eddie looks up to the ceiling and mouths What the fuck am I doing? 

“Yeah, homeowner to homeowner, I wouldn’t rent to him again,” Eddie adds and widens his own eyes at himself. 

“Ah, okay,” Claire says. “Thank you very much for your honesty, Mr. Diaz. You have a wonderful afternoon.” 

“You as well,” Eddie says before hanging up the phone and throwing it on the couch like it burned him. 

He stands and stares at the pile of unfolded laundry for a long, long time. 

***

The next time it happens, they’re working a forty-eight. Buck was fine for the first seventeen hours of their shift, but Eddie can tell he’s beginning to flag and it’s not because he’s tired. Or, well, he is tired, but it’s not your typical tired – it’s grief tired. It’s just another thing Eddie’s learned to read about Buck simply by observing. 

It makes sense. They had a call earlier where a dad burned himself pretty bad trying to teach his son how to grill a steak. Eddie knew immediately when they left that Buck’s mind had drifted to Bobby, as it often did nowadays. He’d pressed his thigh against Buck’s in the engine afterward and Buck had pressed back, but refused to look at him. 

Buck’s on the couch now, some reality tv show playing but Eddie knows he isn’t paying attention. Hen sits down across from him at the table, a mug of tea in her hands. 

“He okay?” she asks. 

Eddie hmms. “Bobby,” he responds.

Hen nods, brings her cup to her mouth and says, “I figured,” before she takes a sip. “Things are… y’know. I won’t say the word, but you should convince him to go lay down in the bunk room.” 

Hen’s right, as she usually is. He forgets sometimes that other people know Buck pretty well, too. No one will ever know Buck the way he does, but that’s not the point.

Still, he feels it’s his job to be the one Buck listens to. The one who gets through to him when no one else can. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nods and pushes back from the table. “I’ll do that.”

He makes his way over to Buck, aware of Chimney watching them from his spot in the armchair. “Hey,” he says quietly, approaching Buck a bit like he would a scared animal. 

Buck jerks at the sound of his voice, red-rimmed eyes looking up. “Hi,” Buck responds. His voice sounds hoarse though there’s been no yelling or screaming. It makes something twist deep in Eddie’s gut. He wants to reach out and grab Buck’s hands, so he does, ignoring the way Buck locks up at his touch before relaxing. 

“C’mon,” he tugs lightly on Buck’s hands. “Let’s go lay down.” 

Buck resists and there’s really only so much Eddie’s willing to do to try to pull a six foot two beefy man off the couch in front of Chimney, so he just says “Buck” sternly. 

“I’m okay,” Buck replies, voice paper thin. Eddie wonders how many times in his life Buck has told this particular lie.

“ Buck ,” Eddie says, this time with a warning edge to his voice. 

Buck sighs and relents. Standing, but dropping Eddie’s hands.

Eddie doesn’t frown. He doesn’t . 

They walk to the bunk room together, Eddie avoiding Chimney’s gaze until they’re out of sight. Buck crawls into a bed and Eddie sits down next to him. “You should try to get some rest. You need it.” 

Buck’s staring at the metal bars above him. “I don’t know if I can.” 

And they don’t do this. Hell, they’re not even sharing the bed at home (much to Christopher’s thinly veiled judgment). But, Eddie can be brave. Eddie is brave. “Scooch over,” he says. 

This causes Buck to come out of his trance a bit. “What?”

“Scooch,” Eddie repeats and gestures with his hands for Buck to move over closer to the wall. Buck listens, because of course he does, and with a deep breath, Eddie bites the bullet and lays down. 

The bed is small, so they’re immediately pressed together from their shoulders all the way down to their boots. Buck is still tense, possibly even more so than before, and that’s not what Eddie wants at all, so he decides to be brave again. He turns on his side and moves closer to Buck, resting his head on Buck’s shoulder and placing an arm over his stomach. “Relax,” he whispers. 

The bunk creaks softly beneath them, the only sound between their breaths and the distant hum of the station’s overnight q-word.

He feels Buck inhale deeply beneath him, his head and arm rising and falling with the motion. An arm wiggles out from between them and tentatively comes to rest behind Eddie’s back, cupping his waist. “Is this okay?” Buck asks, sounding terrified and unsure. 

“Wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t,” Eddie replies. Absentmindedly, he begins rubbing his thumb back and forth across Buck’s belly. He loves Buck’s belly. He’d really like to put his face there, maybe bite it – which, okay . 

The thought doesn’t scare him as much as he feels like it should. But it’s Buck… and it’s not like his thoughts about Buck have ever been completely and totally normal . 

“I didn’t get that place I applied for,” Buck says into the darkness.

Eddie does everything in his power to keep his body relaxed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I actually found another. Applied a few days ago.” 

Eddie closes his eyes. Breathes in. Out. “Mmmm.” 

They lie there until Buck’s breathing evens out. Eddie’s staring at the wall in front of him when it occurs to him that Buck seriously cannot move out. Who is going to take care of him when he’s sad? When he gets like this and needs someone to tell him what to do? 

Buck’s a grown man. Eddie knows that. But he’s still Buck . His . And Eddie needs him close, where he can make sure he’s okay. Always.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Carefully, he slips out from under a sleeping Buck, making sure not to wake him, then slips out of the bunk room and closes the door behind him.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Hi – Mr. Diaz?” an unfamiliar voice says. 

“Uh, yeah. This is Eddie Diaz.”

“This is James McDowell. I own a property one of your previous tenants applied for and I was calling for a reference. It’s uh, Evan Buckley?” 

Eddie thinks about Buck’s red eyes, his wrecked voice, the way he wasn’t staring at the tv but through it. 

The panic rises, sharp and familiar. He hesitates for a second too long. Then he lets the demon in.

“Oh, man. You want me to be honest with you?” 

There’s the sound of papers shuffling over the phone and then, “Yes, that would be preferable.” 

“Guy’s a huge partier. I’m always fielding calls from the old neighbors and even the police sometimes when reports are made. I can’t wait for him to move out,” Eddie says.

“If he’s so terrible, wouldn’t you want to lie to get rid of him faster?” James asks.

Eddie laughs. “You’d think. But no, I’m honest to a fault. Someone else is going to have to make the same informed mistake I did.” 

He doesn’t think James fully believes him, but the man lets him go with a thank you. He turns around to find Chimney staring at him with his jaw halfway to the ground. 

“Chim-” he starts.

Chim raises his hands, eyes wide, mouth still slightly open. “You can’t seriously expect me to keep what I just heard to myself.”

“I can and I will,” Eddie takes a few steps forward.

“Eddie,” Chim whines. 

“Chim, look. You care about him, yeah?” 

Chimney screws up his face at that. “Well, yes. He’s my brother.” He waits a minute. “That was cold, man. I mean, what the hell?”

What’s one more lie? Eddie thinks. “You saw him. He puts on a brave face ninety-nine percent of the time, but the truth is, he’s not doing well. I see it at home much more than here and I just really don’t think now is the best time for him to be moving out.” 

At least this time it’s only sort of a lie, because he does really think Buck would be better off with him. 

“You don’t… you don’t think he’s going to hurt himself, right? Because Eddie, if you think that, we have to tell Maddie. That’s not something I can keep from her,” Chimney says, serious now.

Shit. This isn’t what he was trying to do. “No! God, no. I think he just needs someone to lean on more than he lets on and I know he doesn’t want to ask for it.” 

Chim relaxes. “Yeah. He’s been insisting to Maddie he’s fine, but I know he can be stubborn.”

That makes Eddie chuckle. 

“I won’t say anything,” Chim says. “Well, I’ll try my best. No promises this doesn’t accidentally slip to Maddie.” 

“That’s all I can ask for,” Eddie replies. “You and Maddie have enough on your plate with the baby. Just…let me take care of him? I want–no, I need to do that. After everything.” 

A look passes over Chim’s face, one Eddie can’t place. He decides not to read too much into it. 

“Of course, Eddie. Of course.” 

***

Tía Pepa’s laugh floats through the open kitchen door out into the living room where Eddie has found himself losing horribly to Chris in a game of Scrabble. He’s no poet, but this is just embarrassing. 

Chris grins and it’s kind of… evil. He reaches for his letters and fills in the word chutzpah . He cheers. 

“Chutzpah?” Eddie’s incredulous. “Where did you even come up with that?”

An unimpressed Chris rolls his eyes. “Come on, Dad. Everyone knows it’s one of the highest scoring words. This is like, a historic moment for me.” 

Eddie holds his hands up. “Oh, well, excuse me then!” He stands and ruffles Chris’s hair. “I’m going to go check on the other two geniuses in there,” he nods toward the kitchen. 

Bad Bunny’s NUEVAYoL hits his ears more clearly the closer he gets to the kitchen. He knows this is Pepa’s doing – she’s been obsessed recently. 

Eddie pushes through the door and finds Buck and Pepa shaking their hips together in a dance, gloved hands help up covered in masa, and most definitely not assembling tamales. There’s a beautiful pile of perfectly assembled tamales on one plate and a rather sad looking pile on the plate next to it. Eddie doesn’t have to guess whose is whose. 

For a beat, Eddie just takes in the scene. Buck has absolutely no rhythm, but it’s adorable watching him try to keep up with Pepa all the same. Heat and warmth blooms in his chest, a brilliant gold he can feel wrapping around his lungs and heart and squeezing the muscles tight. He hopes the light crushes him until he turns into a million little stars worthy of Buck’s presence. Worthy of Buck staying . 

On a spin, Pepa notices Eddie lurking by the door.  “Oh, Eddito!” she exclaims and Buck’s cheeks flare a bright red as he stops dancing promptly. Their eyes meet and Buck does his shy little head duck and embarrassed smile and Eddie finds he’d really like to press his lips to the darkened birthmark above Buck’s left eye. “Come, come. We’ve just made another batch of masa.” 

The next round of corn husks are already laid out and dried, and there’s a bowl of perfectly seasoned pork waiting to be added. Buck takes his place at the kitchen counter and Eddie scoots in beside him, their bodies naturally knocking against each other in the usual gravitational pull. 

Eddie remembers to quickly wash his hands and then is back at Buck’s side again,  gabbing a husk and beginning spreading his masa. He’s content to sit here, do something methodical, something he’s done a million times, but this time with Buck by his side. It feels right. He can’t imagine there being a day where he comes home and will no longer find Buck in this kitchen, always up to something (something that usually benefits Eddie’s stomach). 

He folds and places his first tamale when he notices Buck and his cute little brow furrow of concentration. His tongue is also peaking out from the side of his lips. Eddie bites back a laugh, not wanting to make Buck self-conscious .

Buck struggles folding and sealing the husk; Eddie can tell he’s getting disappointed with himself, and well, that just won’t do. 

Without really thinking about it, Eddie moves to stand behind Buck and brackets him against the island with one arm on either side. Buck doesn’t tense at all, Eddie notices; although, he hasn’t missed the two glasses of wine sitting by Pepa. 

“Here,” Eddie whispers and brings his hands up to cover Buck’s, “like this.” His fingers brush the inside of Buck’s wrist, and he lingers there a moment too long. It’s just long enough to memorize the flutter of Buck’s pulse. 

Buck’s completely relaxed in Eddie’s grasp, letting himself be directed and guided without complaint. Eddie can smell his raspberry coconut shampoo this close combined with their shared laundry detergent (the hypoallergenic one they found because Buck has incredibly sensitive skin). Eddie tries to be subtle about inhaling a little deeper while he’s in this position. 

When Buck has successfully sealed a tamale that looks almost as good as Pepa’s, he turns a bit in Eddie’s arms so he can look the slightest bit down at him. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I was doing a terrible job.” 

Eddie bites his bottom lip between his teeth, fighting a smile. “Not terrible. Effort is attractive.” He doesn’t know why he says it. Because it’s the truth? Yeah, he’ll go with that. 

Buck’s brows pinch together for a brief moment and there’s a little frown on his lips before he shakes it off. “Well, now I’m a pro.”

This doesn’t mean anything, but it kind of means everything. Eddie doesn’t know which is worse - how good it feels to be this close, or how much he’s going to miss it when Buck’s gone.

It’s time for Eddie to step out of Buck’s orbit, he realizes – well, he remembers Pepa is in the room and when he meets her gaze she is watching them intently and worse, knowingly. She’s got this wise look on her face like she’s figured out something that’s been nagging at her for years and she’s content with the result. 

Eddie doesn’t hold eye contact with her for long, side-stepping Buck and grabbing another husk when – “Dad!” Chris yells from the living room. “I’ve got another game ready.”

Eddie’s feet don’t move right away. Buck’s still close, still warm. The kitchen a comforting bubble he doesn’t want to pop.

He closes his eyes briefly and sighs, already missing the quiet weight of Buck’s presence beside him.

“Uh-oh,” Buck says. 

“He’s just so good at it. He’s running circles around me,” Eddie replies. 

Pepa and Buck both grin. “And to think English was your strongest subject, what with all those books you read and reports you made As on,” Pepa waves off casually. 

Buck raises a brow. “Oh?” 

Eddie starts backing up. “Nope! We’re not doing this right now. Get us when dinner’s ready!” 

“You are not getting out of this, Eddie Diaz!” Buck calls. “Only delaying the inevitable! I’ll still be here when you get back!”

Eddie’s laughing when he reenters the living room. Far from the first time, it hits him. He absolutely cannot lose Buck. He won’t. 

I’ll still be here when you get back echoes in Eddie’s head. God, he hopes that’s always true. 

***

The third time, Buck’s a drug dealer. At least this time, they’d been rewatching Breaking Bad the night before and Eddie can rationalize in his mind where the lie comes from. 

“I’m sorry, did you say meth ?” the woman on the phone - Angelica? - asks, voice pitched somewhere between horrified and intrigued.

Eddie stares into the middle distance of the firehouse loft. Everyone else is asleep. He is alone. With his choices.

“I hate to say it, but... yeah,” he says solemnly. “Meth.”

He swears he hears a pen stop scribbling on the other end.

“We used to have this guy in the neighborhood, we called him Meth Lab Jim. He got busted when there was a fire at his place, but I heard from some neighbors Buck - uh, Evan, had been spending a lot of time there before. Apparently, all Jim’s clients show up at my door now.” 

There’s silence. 

“And you… haven’t told the police?” Angelica sounds bewildered. Like she’s trying to figure out if he should be arrested, too. Eddie understands. 

“I have no proof, just a feeling. But you gotta admit it does sound awfully suspicious.” Eddie looks down at his nails, wonders why lying about this is getting easier. 

Angelica is quiet for a moment. “Are you going to call the police?”

Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea. Angelica seems really worried that there may be one more drug dealer on the streets of Los Angeles. So, he says, “I know a sergeant with LAPD. She’s aware of the situation.” 

“Oh, okay.” Angelica sighs. “Well, thank you for your time, I guess?” 

“Yep, have a lovely day, Angelica,” Eddie singsongs and hangs up before he starts laughing or crying or both.

“Who’s Angelica?” Buck’s voice echoes and Eddie can’t help it, he honest to god jumps in his seat on the firehouse couch. That was close. Entirely too close. 

Eddie watches Buck come closer to him until he’s right on him, right next to him. “From Christopher’s school. About the bake sale.” 

Buck frowns, hands on his hips as he looks down at Eddie. “I don’t know an Angelica. I’ve only been in touch with Claudia about the bake sale.” 

Fuck. Buck is too good. Too pure. Too perfectly wrapped up and intertwined with Eddie and his son’s life. “She’s um, she’s just helping out. With the. Gluten free options?”

It doesn’t look like Buck totally buys the lie, but is too sleepy to press. “Huh, okay. Did you know capybaras nap in water?” He sits down next to Eddie like that was the natural next sentence. 

“No,” Eddie blinks. Eddie didn’t know that. Why would Eddie know that? He doesn’t care. He wants to know everything Buck wants to share. 

“Yeah. Like, in the water. Just floating. Also, they only pee in water, too.”

Eddie stares at him, then at the wall, then back at Buck. He’s still talking. 

Eddie settles himself happily back into the cushions of the couch and closes his eyes as he listens to Buck’s long list of capybara facts. 

***

It happens three more times in the next two months. And each time, Buck grows more frustrated. Which, honestly, is fair. Eddie knows he’s being insane. Maybe a little in denial, maybe a lot. But this isn’t normal. It’s not cool. It’s worse than Buck subconsciously tanking his house viewings before El Paso. At least that had been unintentional.

According to Eddie, Buck has: become a pimp, started a cult, and been really into voyeuristic porch sex in the past two months. He only feels a little bad for the poor landlords and real estate agents calling him. They’re collateral damage in whatever the hell this emotional spiral is.

Buck paces the living room. “I just don’t understand! They’re all saying they decided to go with another tenant. I know I don’t have the best credit score in the world, but with your recommendation that should stand for something , right?”

Guilt gnaws at Eddie’s bones. “The LA market is hard, man.” For the first time, “man” feels weird rolling off his tongue when talking to Buck. Wrong. It kind of makes him want to cringe. 

Buck’s curls are messy where he’s been running his hands through them. Eddie finds he wants to be the one running his hands through them, tugging them, watching them pull taut and then spring back to life. “I don’t know how else to express to them this is time sensitive.” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “It’s not time sensitive.” 

Buck shoots him a look. 

“I’m just saying. You’re putting yourself on this timeline. There is no rush for you to get out of here.” 

Suddenly Buck is next to him on the couch. Their thighs are touching. Eddie’s going to explode. The same overwhelming feeling he had in the bunk room overtakes him and he does his best to keep his expression neutral. 

Buck turns to look at him and their faces are so, so close together. So close it would hardly take anything for Eddie to lean forward and kiss him. The thought is jarring, but doesn’t scare Eddie as much as he thinks it probably should. Since when does he want to kiss Buck? 

He’s probably imagining it, but he swears Buck’s eyes briefly flick down to look at his lips. Eddie licks them reactively. Buck looks away. 

“I just want my own life,” Buck says.

The words land harder than Eddie expects. It’s not just the idea of Buck leaving. It’s the thought that Buck doesn’t already have a life here, with them.

Something in Eddie’s demeanor must shift enough for Buck to notice because he’s rushing to add, “Not that I don’t love being here with you and Chris, it’s just not my life. It’s yours.” 

Anger coils low in Eddie’s gut – he doesn’t really know why. He just knows he doesn’t like the idea of Buck thinking anything that belongs to Eddie doesn’t also belong to Buck. They’re partners. Eddie would do anything for him. 

Sure, maybe it’s unconventional. Maybe other people wouldn’t understand. But it’s them . It’s just the way things are. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that, Buck,” Eddie says. 

“That you understand. That you get it,” Buck replies. 

Eddie shrugs. “Well, I can’t say that. Because I don’t.”

“I guess it’s hard to see when you already have it.” Buck sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m being difficult.” 

Without really thinking about it, Eddie’s hand finds Buck’s thigh…warm, solid beneath his palm. The muscle tenses, then relaxes. And for a dizzying second, Eddie wonders what would happen if he slid his hand higher. If Buck would let him. “You’re not being difficult. And don’t apologize for talking to me.” 

Buck nods and sways into Eddie. “It’s just exhausting. It’s like I’m running in place.” 

The guilt slams back into Eddie full force, no longer distracted by the presence of Buck’s muscles shifting beneath his fingertips. He gives Buck’s leg a squeeze. “I know, bud. You’ll get there.” Eddie takes a moment to try to remember every outline and ridge of Buck’s thigh before he stands up, slapping his hands down on his own thighs. “What do you want to do for dinner?” 

Buck’s eyes light up and it eases the repulsive, repugnant blame roiling around in Eddie’s stomach. “Thai? I want the-”

“Pad see-ew and veggie spring roles, I know,” Eddie finishes for him, already on his way to the kitchen to grab the menu from their menu drawer. Inexplicably, he’s in the mood to try something different, something new. 

***

The last time it happens, Eddie finds himself in the same position as the very first time – folding laundry, one of Buck’s worn t-shirts dangling from his hands when the phone rings. 

He sees the unknown number flash across his screen where his phone sits on the arm of the couch. He sees the Los Angeles, CA. He knows he shouldn’t answer. He should leave it alone. Buck just told him two days ago he applied to another place. No matter how much it makes him want to crawl out of his skin, he should let Buck go. 

Selfish isn’t something Eddie has ever been, always giving every last piece of himself to everyone else before even stopping to consider what he wants. The last time he ended up sort of giving into his fucked up desires, he ended up traumatizing his kid and honestly himself. 

No, it wasn’t necessarily his fault that Kim decided to be even more insane than him and show up to his house unannounced looking like the spitting image of his dead wife; but, it was his fault for ever engaging with her in the first place. Another thing he should’ve let go. 

However, possession is a crazy thing. He watches his hand reach out for his phone and it’s as if it’s not even him controlling it. 

“Hello?” his voice sounds funny.

“Hi! Jill Splinter with Splinter Realty here. Is this Eddie Diaz?” Eddie’s getting used to these introductions. 

“Mhmm.” He’s still got Buck’s shirt dangling from his hand. He clenches his fist around it. 

“Oh, wonderful. I’m calling for a reference for Evan Buckley?” Jill says. 

Eddie’s blanking. Fighting for his life, if you will. He didn’t think about what he was going to say the next time he got one of these calls. He hoped it would stop, that Buck would give up. “I. Um. Oh.” is all he gets out. 

Jill laughs, the sound awkward. “Mr. Diaz?”

“I’m here. Uh, look.” Eddie looks at the ceiling. “He doesn’t um, believe in toilets. Thinks the ground is ‘nature’s toilet’ or whatever. The backyard at my property is a mess of holes and the neighbors, well. They um, they complain about the uh…. Y’know, the smell?” 

Eddie brings the hand still holding Buck's shirt to his mouth. He wants to scream. What in the fuck did he just say? He’s out of control. Out of his mind. Buck is never going to be able to rent in LA again. Fuck, maybe the entirety of the United States. Oh God, Buck is going to flee the country. This is not what he wanted. 

Jill chokes, her cough echoing down the line. “I’m sorry?”

Somehow, Eddie finds it in himself to continue speaking. “I know. It’s pretty crazy. Definitely the craziest thing I’ve ever dealt with.” 

Jill coughs again. “I guess that’s why he was so insistent on the backyard…” she trails off. 

Eddie is rooted to the ground. He wishes he could pace, but he can’t move. 

“I-okay. Thank you, Mr. Diaz. I have to go. Have a great afternoon.” 

Jill is gone. 

Eddie takes a few deep breaths. Then- “Dad?” 

Oh fucking shit. In the throes of his possession or whatever the fuck just happened, he briefly forgot Christopher was in his room playing video games. 

Eddie turns around slowly, like he’s a character in Jurassic Park and he just heard a branch snap behind him. 

Chris is staring at him, horrified. 

Eddie fishmouths. He can’t think of anything to say. This is now the second time Chris has walked in on him doing something completely un-fucking-hinged. 

“Did you just tell someone Buck shits in the yard so they wouldn’t rent to him?” Chris asks, voice beyond incredulous. 

All Eddie can think to respond with is, “Language!” 

Chris shakes his head. Walks into the living room until he’s sitting on the couch next to the pile of unfolded laundry. 

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

Chris snorts. “I do. Just didn’t think this is how it was going to manifest.” 

And what? “Care to explain?”

There’s some shuffling until Chris can face Eddie head on. “I don’t want to tell you flat out. That feels wrong.” 

“Why would it be wrong?” Eddie asks.

“Well, because it’s about your feelings and I don’t want to tell you how you feel. You should get there on your own.” 

He appreciates his son looking out for him and his emotional wellbeing. Truly, he does. But now is not the time. Chris is right – he just told someone Buck shits in the yard so that Buck won’t leave him and desperately needs to know what in the absolute fuck - oh. Oh.  

Something must change on his face because Chris’s expression softens. “Dad?” 

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t… I can’t.” Very unceremoniously, he falls on the couch, into the pile of laundry. He looks down, realizes he still hasn’t let go of Buck’s shirt. A hysterical laugh is bubbling up inside of him, but he forces it down. 

Chris reaches a hand out until it is tentatively resting on Eddie’s arm. “You can , Dad. It’s okay. It’s allowed. You’re allowed.” 

Somehow, after everything, Eddie still has the greatest kid in the world looking out for him. He doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve Chris, not after everything he’s put him through. 

He bursts into tears. 

He’s in love with Buck. 

Chris scoots closer in, leaning his head on Eddie’s shoulder and wrapping his skinny teenage arm around Eddie. Suddenly, Eddie needs Chris to know something. “I loved your mom so, so much. I really did.” 

“I know. I never doubted that.” Chris is quiet for a moment. “But the way you love Buck is different.” 

Eddie cries harder. This is ridiculous. He can’t be in love with Buck, but he is. My God, he is. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Eddie blubbers.

“I just want you to be happy, Dad. Buck makes you happy,” Chris shrugs. “He makes me happy, too. I don’t want him to leave. And you shouldn’t feel guilty for that.” 

A few hiccups leave Eddie as he works on getting himself together. He wraps both his arms around Chris and beings his son into his chest. 

Chris hugs Eddie back the best he can in the position they’re in. “However,” he mutters into the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. “You should feel guilty for what you just told that person on the phone.” 

A wet laugh bursts out of Eddie and he sniffles. 

“Why didn’t you just tell them he never paid rent on time or something?” Chris asks as he pulls back. 

“I already used that excuse,” Eddie points out. 

Chris furrows his eyebrows, makes a face. Frowns. “So? You know these people aren’t calling each other and comparing notes right? You could use the same reason every time.” 

Well. 

Eddie didn’t think about it like that. He can’t even explain himself because he doesn’t understand why he didn’t just do that. Chris is much, much smarter than he is. “I panicked?” he offers. 

“Jesus, Dad,” Chris groans and slaps a hand to cover his eyes.

They sit in silence for a few moments. Eddie’s starting to itch, feeling like he may come out of his skin. He doesn’t know what to do. 

“You have to tell him you love him,” Chris breaks the quiet. 

That’s a terrifying thought. It’s not one he can process on his own or with his fourteen-year-old son, either. “Hey,” he says. “Will you be okay here for a few hours if I go to Hen and Karen’s?” he asks. 

“Actually, I was coming out here to ask you if I could go to Jake’s for the night when all of that happened,” Chris says. 

Eddie laughs. The sound is still wet, but doesn’t sound as pitiful as it did a few moments ago. “Yeah, bud. Go pack a bag, I’ll drop you off on the way.” He presses a kiss to Chris’s head. 

Chris rises from the couch and makes his way toward his room. “Hey Chris?” Eddie stops him. “You’re the best kid in the world and I love you, you know that?” 

A smile. “Yeah, Dad. I know. I love you, too.” 

***

The sun is beginning to set when Karen opens the door only a few moments after Eddie knocks. She’s wearing a yellow sundress and looks so comforting and like a literal beacon of light in this storm Eddie’s found himself in. 

“Eddie!” she exclaims. “What are you doing here?” She looks closer at him, examining his features. A crease forms in her brow and a frown takes the place of her smile. “Oh, honey,” she says and ushers him inside quickly, calling out a very loud “Hen!” as she closes the door behind them. 

Karen tells Denny and Mara to head to their rooms as she guides Eddie to the kitchen table. Hen walks in, concern already etched on her face. “What’s up?” she asks Karen, and then her eyes fall to Eddie. “Eddie?” 

Karen gestures to the table and Hen gets the message, sitting down next to Eddie. “Let’s get some coffee going, yeah?” Karen busies herself with the coffee maker, getting three mugs down from the cupboard above. 

The entire drive over, he felt outside of his body again. That’s how he’s been operating a lot, lately. He doesn’t feel fully present, yet, but Hen’s familiar hand on his arm helps a bit. “Is it Christopher?” she asks. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Buck,” he croaks. 

He hears rather than sees Karen pause her movements for a second before she continues. 

“What, is he okay? Is he hurt?” Hen grips his arm a little tighter in her worry. 

“No, no. He’s fine.” Eddie sucks in a deep breath. 

Karen comes to the table, three mugs of coffee balanced in one hand in a move Eddie can’t wrap his head around and a bottle of oatmilk creamer in the other hand. She places a cup down for each of them and then sits down on Eddie’s other side, across from Hen. 

They’re both patient as Eddie gathers the courage to speak again. “I’m in love with him,” he says all in one breath. 

Hen and Karen share a look, but it’s not a judgmental one. More… knowing, Eddie would say. “What happened?” Hen asks.

“It’s embarrassing," Eddie says into his coffee. 

“Love’s embarrassing or whatever that Olivia Rodrigo song Mara likes says,” Karen replies. 

Hen chuckles. “You can tell us.” 

“I told someone Buck shits in the yard so that they wouldn’t rent to him.” 

Karen splutters and chokes on her coffee. Hen sets her own cup down very slowly, closes her eyes, breathes in deep. She clasps her hands together in front of her like she’s praying for strength as Karen starts giggling into her hand. 

“Karen, don’t laugh,” Hen warns, a smile tugging at her own mouth. And then she loses it, pushing her chair back from the table and bending over laughing until she can’t breathe. 

Karen isn’t far behind her and Eddie falls soon after. They laugh until they all have tears streaming down their faces and are gasping for air. When they finally manage to calm down for a minute, Eddie adds, “Chris heard me,” and they lose it all over again. 

“God,” Karen says after another minute or two, wiping tears away. “That is an original experience.” 

Eddie and Hen wipe their tears and do their best to compose themselves. 

“Can you rewind? Start at the beginning? Explain how we got to here?” Hen asks. 

So, Eddie does. He tells them the whole sordid story. How he’s been sabotaging Buck, unable to stop himself. How he’s been slightly aware he’s been thinking about Buck differently and looking at Buck differently ever since he got back from El Paso but chalked it up to the grief and just being happy Buck was alive . 

He tells them about how the thought of Buck moving out made him physically ill. He tells them about the bunk room, the couch incident. He lets them know how hard it is for him to fall asleep knowing Buck is right down the hall but not in the bed next to him. 

When he gets to today’s incident and revelation, Hen presses her lips together so she doesn’t laugh. He appreciates her trying to be serious, but this is an absurd situation. He wouldn’t blame her for more giggles. 

He explains the conversation with Chris, how it just kind of hit him all at once, how he has the greatest kid in the world. And then he’s quiet. 

“There is so much to unpack here,” Hen says. “But first, are you okay?” 

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks. 

Hen and Karen share another look. It reminds him of thousands upon thousands of looks he’s shared with Buck over the years. He doesn’t know how he missed it. How he’s been this blind for this long. 

“This is a lot, Eddie. And it’s okay if you’re not okay. Figuring yourself out, self-discovery, it’s scary. It doesn’t matter how old you are,” Hen says. 

“I’d argue it might be even scarier finding out later in life,” Karen adds. 

“Buck did it. He was so brave about it,” is all Eddie can say.

Karen smiles softly. “Buck isn’t you. All of us at this table know he’s always worn his heart on his sleeve and is an incredibly open person.” 

“Maybe too open sometimes,” Hen replies. “You’re different people, Eddie. You can’t try to force yourself to handle this a certain way just because someone else did.” 

Eddie looks down into his mug. “I just don’t understand. I-I loved Shannon. How could I love her and marry her and have a child with her, but then have these feelings for Buck that are so different? So much more .” 

“Sexuality is fluid, Eddie. But also, I don’t think you were ever in a place before where this information is something you could’ve processed. So, you can’t beat yourself up for not getting here until now,” Hen says. 

“And Shannon?” Eddie looks up, blinks back tears. “I feel like I’m betraying her. Chris said I loved her… different.” 

“Chris is a very smart kid.” Karen smiles, and it’s a little sad. “Do you want to know what I think?” 

Eddie nods.

“I think what your incredible kid was saying is that you loved Shannon, but you weren’t in love with her. That doesn’t diminish anything you had with her or make it any less real or valid. It just makes it different. And that’s okay , Eddie,” Karen says. 

Eddie stares down at the coffee again, voice barely above a whisper. “So, what does that make me? Gay?” Eddie asks.

Hen shakes her head with a small grin. “That’s not for us to tell you. That’s for you to discover, but like I said, sexuality is fluid. You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. Right now, you know you love Buck, and that’s what matters.” 

Loving Buck is the easy part. Telling him? Eddie feels sick again. “How am I supposed to tell him? What if he hates me? Never talks to me again?” 

Yet another looked share between Hen and Karen. “Something tells me everything’s going to be just fine,” Hen says. 

***

After another hour talking things through with Hen and Karen, Eddie finds himself sitting outside 4995 South Bedford Street and unable to remove himself from the car. He’s staring at Buck’s truck. Buck is inside the house. Buck, who he is in love with, is inside the house.

If Eddie gets out of the car, Eddie has to go inside and face Buck. Who he is in love with. 

He groans and lets his head hit the steering wheel. 

There’s a bit of shock when he finds Buck still awake and in the kitchen at this hour, though he doesn’t know why. Buck usually waits for him to get home, if he can. Eddie just thought that after he spent the entire day being run ragged by Jee and the baby over at Maddie and Chim’s that he’d be too exhausted to stay awake. It’s also his turn to sleep in the bed, which should’ve made passing out before Eddie got home even more enticing. 

He sighs. 

“Hey,” he hopes his voice isn’t a dead giveaway for how much he’s freaking out inside. He’s almost too worked up to notice the tense line of Buck’s shoulders and the less than pleasant expression on his face. Almost . 

The kitchen isn’t filled with warmth like it usually is. It’s dark, cold, unwelcoming. It feels the same exact way it did the night Eddie fought with Buck about Bobby. Why do they always find themselves in this fucking kitchen? 

“Buck?” he dares to ask when he gets no response out of his best friend. 

Maybe it’s not the time, but holy fuck Eddie cannot ignore how beautiful Buck is right now. The moonlight shining in through the window is highlighting his cheek bones and Eddie can clearly see every bit of stubble on his jaw/chin. He wants to touch so badly it feels like it’s killing him inside. 

“Christopher?” Buck asks as a reply.

“At Jake’s for the night.” 

Buck turns around fully to face Eddie, leans back against the kitchen counter and Eddie watches as his fingers find suitable places to curl around the marble and grip. “So, I uh. I heard something super interesting today.” 

Eddie does not like this. He doesn’t like how similar this feels to the last argument they had. He shrugs his jacket off, tosses it over a chair. Crosses his arms, gets into the defensive positon, stares Buck down. He’s used to this. This, angry Buck? He can do that. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck’s voice is so cold. “Get this. I’m in the living room with Jee, playing princesses, got a tiara on my head and everything when my phone rings. It’s from a realtor, I’d applied to one of their other properties earlier and got denied, but then another one came up and – anyway. That’s not the point, I’m getting sidetracked.” 

Everything starts to crash down around Eddie in slow motion. He can’t be wrong about where this is going. Buck knows. 

“Did you know,” Buck continues, “that apparently I don’t pay rent on time? That’s what Claire said. Well, she said she heard it from ‘one of my references’ which was funny, seeing how you were the only person I listed.” Buck cracks his knuckles and the sound is abrasive in the otherwise quiet room, like nails on a chalkboard. “Then, I’m telling Maddie what I just heard and Chimney looks like a deer in headlights. Didn’t take much for me to find out he overheard you telling someone else I was a huge partier.” 

There’s a roaring in Eddie’s ears, so loudly he thinks he might let it pull him under. But, he can’t. This is quite literally all his fault and he owes Buck… anything Buck wants at this point. “I can explain,” his voice shakes on the beginning of ‘explain’ and he swallows, the glob going down harsh and wrong in his throat. 

Pursing his lips, Buck nods. “Oh, I’m sure, Eddie. I’m sure you can explain. I’d love to hear it.” He pushes off the counter. “First, though. Your fun is over. I caved and let Ravi find me a place.” 

Well. Fuck. 

Fucking Ravi. Eddie forgot about fucking Ravi . 

He’s also about to breathe his last, he just knows it. He can’t get enough air in his lungs, but he won’t panic. Not right now. This is about Buck. Buck who he is in love with and Buck who deserves the entire world. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers. 

Buck laughs and the sound is eons worse than the sound of cracking knuckles. It claws against the bones of Eddie’s skull. “You’re sorry? That’s what you have to say?” 

Buck’s moving closer. Eddie is rooted to the spot. 

“I have spent months crying to you about how much I want to move on, start a life and you’ve sat there and let me, knowing the entire time you were laughing behind my back making sure I was stuck here!” Buck’s voice is raising. It’s allowed. 

He knows Buck is hurt, but the idea that Buck feels stuck with him and Christopher feels like a kick to the gut by a massive horse. Like one of those Clydesdales they took Christopher to see one Christmas for a Budweiser promotional event in downtown LA ( yes , children were allowed). 

“I wasn’t laughing, Buck. I wasn’t trying to- to hurt you. It’s not. This isn’t a joke. It’s not funny,” Eddie manages.

“You’re damn right it’s not funny! What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Now or never, Eddie supposes. “I don’t want you to go!” 

And that. That stops Buck, shocks the angry fire out of his eyes and replaces it with something wilder. “What?”

“I don’t want you to leave, Buck. I want you to stay here, with me. And Christopher.” 

Buck clenches his fists together and brings them up to his eyes. “You don’t want me to leave,” he says slowly, processing. 

“No.” 

“Eddie, I-. You left, you went to Texas and I know why you had to do that, okay. No part of me blames you for that. But you don’t just get to come back here and ask me to… to give up everything, put my life on pause while you get yours back on track.” Buck lowers his fists from his eyes and fuck, he’s crying. Eddie didn’t want him to cry. And he’s not getting it. He’s not understanding. 

Eddie reaches up to his head and grabs fistfulls of his own hair, tugging. “I should’ve asked you to come with me,” he says to no one in particular. The floor. The walls. The oven. The sink. 

“But you didn’t.” 

“I should have,” Eddie lets go of his hair and takes enough strides toward Buck to almost completely close the distance between them. His hands hang limply, uselessly by his sides. 

Buck’s voice is a broken whisper. “I don’t understand what’s going on. You’re hurting me, Eddie. This hurts.” A tear escapes and falls gently down Buck’s cheek. Eddie tracks its path all the way down to Buck’s chin until it curves around his jaw and slides down his neck. 

“I’m not doing this right,” Eddie says, takes one more step. “Buck, I should have asked you to come with me because I love you. I don’t want you to move out because I love you. I don’t want you to go settle or start your life because your life is right here. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it out and that I hurt you in the process of finding myself, but.”

Eddie lifts his violently shaking hands to cup Buck’s face. 

“What are you saying? Eddie, I. I-I can’t misread this. You have to. You have to be clear. Say it to me like I’m five.” Buck won’t open his eyes. 

They’re standing toe to toe now. Eddie has to look up a little bit to see Buck, but he finds he likes it. He doesn’t let go of his grip on Buck’s jaw. “I am in love with you. I want you to live here, I want you to sleep in the bed with me, I want to wake up with you, I want to come home and find you cooking dinner or playing video games with Chris or dancing with Pepa. Forever. I want you forever.” 

Buck collapses a bit, all the rigidity rupturing out of him in one big burst. Eddie hopes with all of his heart that this is a good sign. 

Those big, beautiful blue eyes open and Eddie hates that they’re still full of tears. “Really?” Buck asks. 

Eddie nods. He can’t wait anymore, he surges forward and crashes his mouth against Buck’s. No one’s leaving this kitchen angry, not tonight. 

It’s not a pretty kiss, but it’s a perfect one. To Eddie, at least. Their teeth knock together and there are tears and snot involved, but Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way. Buck’s frozen, Eddie would hedge a bet that he’s in a bit of shock. Eddie himself is in a bit of shock, but the feeling of Buck’s mouth finally on his is so euphoric he doesn’t have time to think about the reality of what he’s doing. 

He crowds up into Buck’s space until Buck’s back against the counter he was originally leaning against. He pulls back, watches as Buck’s eyes dance across his face with something a bit like awe and wonder. “I love you,” Buck says and the words cascade over Eddie like the most beautiful waterfall of comfort. But also, heat. He can feel the embers fighting to turn into flames in his stomach. 

Having Buck this close is an indescribable feeling. Eddie can’t believe he waited this long. He kisses Buck again, this time with a bit more finesse and intention. Buck’s putty in his hands, sliding his legs out around Eddie’s hips and feet so that they can be level with each other. 

Eddie coaxes Buck’s mouth open, dips his tongue inside, finds Buck’s own and lets them twist together. The noise that leaves Buck’s throat makes Eddie want to fall to his knees, but he stays upright. , he slides a hand around to the back of Buck’s neck and grips it to anchor him. 

They kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss until Buck reluctantly pulls back with a gasp. “Wait, wait, wait.” 

Rocking down onto his heels, Eddie waits. He leans back into Buck’s hands where they’re gripping his waist. “Hmmm?” 

Buck’s eyes are roving over Eddie’s face like crazy – Eddie can tell he’s trying to memorize every single detail. He loves him so much. 

“Can we.. are we… we’re still best friends, right?” Buck asks and he sounds shy . He plays with the material of Eddie’s shirt. 

Eddie can’t decide if he wants to laugh or cry. The question is so unequivocally Buck . He settles for wrapping a single one of Buck’s curls around his finger and tugging. Buck closes his eyes. Eddie notes that for later. “Of course. You’re always going to be my best friend. No matter what.” 

Buck nods, bites his already kiss swollen lips. “I-. I’m. You’re always going to be mine, too.” 

“Good,” Eddie grins, leans up to steal another kiss from Buck. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way… What do you want?” 

Buck splutters. “What do I want?” 

Eddie kisses him again, bites his bottom lip a little, causing another little helpless noise to fall from Buck’s mouth. “Yeah, what do you want?” 

Buck fishmouths a little, mouth gaping and closing. “Like sexually?” 

Eddie throws his head back and laughs. “Yeah, Buck. Sexually.” 

“I don’t… Eddie, this is all new for you. I’m fine with this, we don’t have to do anything. Wait, you didn’t even tell me what- what you are?” 

“Think I’m gay, not really worried about it at the moment. I know I’m in love with you and I want you. That’s enough for now.” 

Buck closes his eyes and whimpers. “You’re going to kill me.” A beat. “I’m proud of you.” 

That makes Eddie’s heart sing a bit. Because yeah, Buck’s still his best friend. Eddie still just came out for the first time to his best friend and Buck isn’t forgetting that that’s also a part of the situation they’ve found themselves in. 

“Thank you,” Eddie nudges his nose against Buck’s, whispering against his mouth. He waits for Buck to take the lead. He’s not going to push Buck into anything further right now if that’s not what he wants. 

“Could you,” Buck nudges his nose back against Eddie’s. “Would you want to. Um. With me?” 

“Yeah. I want everything with you,” Eddie replies. “But what specifically do you want right now?”

Buck pushes himself back to his full height and Eddie drops his hands from where they’d found themselves back on Buck’s face to his hips. “I,” Buck’s blushing and it’s the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen. 

“Come on, baby. Tell me,” Eddie goads. 

Something about the word “baby” seems to unravel Buck because he’s swaying into Eddie and whispering “fuck me,” within seconds. 

Eddie’s stomach swoops low and he grabs one of Buck’s hands. “Yeah. Come on. Bed.” 

***

Eddie lied. The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen is Buck spread out on their bed, naked except for his boxers. God, he can’t believe he gets to call it their bed now. 

Buck’s flushed all the way down his chest and his breathing is deep and hard. Eddie can’t help but hover above him, staring. 

“Eddie,” Buck whines. 

Eddie reaches down to take his own jeans off, shirt already discarded. Buck watches him intently as the material slides down past his thighs, down his calves, and finally hits the floor. Eddie steps out of them and fully climbs onto the bed, getting a knee on either side of Buck. He doesn’t sit though, not yet. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Eddie whispers and runs a hand from the scar on Buck’s leg all the way to his hip, his sternum, neck, and finally lets his hand rest in the crook of Buck’s shoulder, where it always finds itself. 

“So are you,” Buck breathes. 

“I’ll be honest,” Eddie lets his thumb run back and forth against Buck’s collarbone, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Buck giggles. “Well, the mechanics are pretty much the same.” 

“Yeah, but it’s you. I don’t want to fuck this up.” 

“You won’t. You can’t.” 

They’re quiet, just staring into each other’s eyes until Buck says, “You could start by getting us completely naked, though.” 

At the suggestion, Eddie feels himself freeze. He’s seen Buck before. Buck’s seen him before. But never in this context, never like this. Never with this much weight and meaning behind it. 

Buck’s fingers come up to wrap around Eddie’s right wrist. “It’s just me,” he says. 

“Exactly,” Eddie laughs and his nerves are completely evident in the sound. 

“Here,” Buck reaches down and grabs the waistband of his own boxers, lifting his hips up until he can get them down his thighs before kicking them off the rest of the way. Eddie doesn’t look down, doesn’t watch. He’s still holding himself above Buck, refusing to sit. 

“Eddie,” Buck says carefully. “You can look.” 

Somehow, that’s enough for Eddie. A wounded noise escapes him when he sees Buck’s cock, thick and hard against his stomach and already leaking. “God,” he breathes. “Fuck.” 

Buck smiles, but doesn’t say anything. He rests his hands on either side of Eddie’s hips, playing with the waistband of the boxers that sit there. “Can I?” 

Eddie nods. Buck’s slow with his movements, giving Eddie plenty of time to back out. But Eddie doesn’t tell him to stop. He won’t. 

He feels the cool air of their bedroom against his own cock as it slaps against his abdomen and Buck hisses beneath him. “Fuck, Eddie. Look at you,” he says while tossing the boxers somewhere across the room. 

Buck’s hands come to rest on Eddie’s incredibly tense, bare thighs. “Sit. Relax.” 

Like all it took was Buck giving him permission, Eddie sits down on Buck’s thighs. “What now?” 

Buck raises his hands until they’re around Eddie’s midsection and Eddie finds himself on his back staring up at Buck before he can blink. “What-” 

“Shh,” Buck says and presses a kiss to Eddie’s lips. Then another. “Let me.” 

Slowly, Buck begins trailing kisses down body until he’s reached the patch of hair at his groin. Eddie sucks in a breath, holds it. Buck mouths at the skin on Eddie’s hip, pulling it between his teeth and biting before soothing it over with his tongue. 

“Buck, Buck,” Eddie babbles. 

“Can I blow you?” Buck asks. 

“I don’t think I’ll last,” Eddie admits honestly. 

“You think you have more than one in you tonight?” Buck’s looking up at him from in between his legs and the sight is so incredibly erotic, Eddie thinks he might have died and gone to heaven.

Sorry, Jesus. Except he’s not. 

“I can. Yeah,” Eddie doesn’t know where his surety comes from, but it’s there. And he believes himself. He thinks for Buck, he could probably manage anything. 

Buck grins and doesn’t hesitate before gripping Eddie’s cock in his hand and pressing his mouth to the tip. Eddie gasps, back arching off the bed already. This is pathetic.

One of Buck’s large hands comes to rest on Eddie’s abdomen, pressing him back down toward the bed and fuck, that’s hotter than it should be. Eddie goes willingly, holds in a gasp as Buck trails kisses up and down the length of him before sucking the tip into his mouth. 

Eddie moans and the sound is broken. Buck sinks down slowly and Eddie wants to watch, but he can’t get his eyes to open against the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. He feels like he’s been set on fire. Buck’s mouth is so warm and tight and perfect. 

Buck finds a rhythm, does sinful things with his tongue until Eddie’s a writhing mess beneath him – the hand on his stomach doing fuck all to still him. He ruts his hips up and Buck coughs, pulls off. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes breathlessly. 

Buck shakes his head. “No, no. I just wasn’t ready. Do it again.”

And Buck is some kind of angel because he’s sucking Eddie all the way down and tapping Eddie’s hip to let him know it’s okay. Eddie reaches out, threads a hand through Buck’s curls and tugs once in question. Buck moans around him and the vibrations nearly send Eddie over the edge. 

Slowly, Eddie finds his own pace, fucking up into Buck’s mouth. This time, he watches. Watches as Buck closes his eyes and savors it. Lets the tears leak from the corner of his eyes freely, gagging on it. 

It hits him suddenly, out of nowhere. “Buck, I’m gonna come,” he pants. 

Buck doubles down, taking the reins back from Eddie and working him at a furious pace until the fire in his groin builds to an inferno and suddenly he’s coming, arching off the bed and spilling down Buck’s throat with a shout and his fists clenching the sheets so hard his knuckles are white. 

Buck swallows everything, continues working Eddie through the aftershocks until he’s completely spent. He releases Eddie with a pop and presses a kiss to the side of Eddie’s cock before he crawls back up Eddie’s chest. 

Eddie’s breathing heavily as Buck asks, “That okay?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life,” Eddie responds honestly. 

Buck laughs, nuzzling into Eddie’s neck. Eddie’s more than aware Buck’s still hard against his hip. “Let me -” 

Buck shakes his head, holds Eddie tighter. “No, want to come for the first time with you inside me.” 

The hand that’s not rubbing up and down Buck’s back flies up to cover Eddie’s eyes. “You’re gonna have to give me a minute, bud.”

“I know,” Buck maneuvers himself out of Eddie’s arms and reaches for the bedside table, grabbing a bottle of lube Eddie didn’t know was there. He’s not going to question it. Nor is he going to imagine Buck using that while he was away in Texas or any of the nights Buck has spent in here since. 

Buck flops down on his back next to Eddie, leaving the bottle next to him. “We’re going to make out, and then you’re going to open me up first.” Buck tugs at Eddie’s arm. “Come here.” 

Eddie goes willingly, laying on top of Buck and immediately going for his mouth. They make out for an indeterminate amount of time, Eddie sucking bruises onto Buck’s neck and jaw, seeing how many times he can elicit those breathy little gasps. 

Buck jerks his hips up into Eddie’s and half of the time, Eddie can tell it’s involuntary. Impossibly, Eddie starts to get hard again. He didn’t know that was possible. Sure, he’d told Buck he could but he didn’t know he actually would. 

Eventually, Buck reaches for the bottle of lube and presses it into Eddie’s hand. They put a pillow under Buck’s hips and he spreads his legs so Eddie has room to work. Buck talks him through every aspect and by the time Eddie’s up to three fingers, Buck is fucking himself back against Eddie’s hand and babbling a string of nonsense at the ceiling.

Eddie crooks his fingers just a little and hits a small bundle inside of Buck. Buck’s body locks up and he cries out, “Eddie, fuck! Fuck, fuck. Do that again.” So, Eddie does it again, rubbing relentlessly against the spot until Buck tells him to stop. 

“Okay, okay. I’m ready,” Buck heaves out. 

“Condom?” Eddie asks, blown away by how red Buck’s chest is all the way up his neck. Blown away by how beautiful Buck is. By the fact that he just had his fingers inside Buck. 

“No, I’m clean. And not. Not with you. I want to feel all of you.”

Eddie closes his eyes, hangs his head between his shoulders.

Jesus.

He begs himself not to shoot off at Buck’s words alone, grabs the lube, and slicks himself up with shaking hands. 

Then he’s leaning over Buck, positioning himself at his entrance and guiding himself in very, very slowly. 

Buck’s eyes are closed and his jaw is hanging open as Eddie pushes all the way in. “Oh, fuck,” he breathes when Eddie’s situated. “Shit. Move, you have to move.” 

Eddie starts slow at first, then picks up the pace when Buck starts begging for more. He can’t believe he gets to have this now, Buck underneath him, completely his. Buck beautiful and naked and totally his . 

He intertwines their fingers, pushing up until their hands rest on either side of Buck’s head. Buck brings his strong, gorgeous thighs up around Eddie’s hips and locks his ankles together. “I love you,” Eddie says and dives forward to claim Buck’s mouth. 

Buck keens high in his throat and says “I love you, too,” against Eddie’s lips. They stay like that for a while, Eddie slowing down until he’s only languidly thrusting, just enjoying the feeling of being this close to Buck. Being able to love him in this way. 

At some point, Buck grows impatient and decides to shove Eddie around until Eddie’s got a lapful of Buck working himself up and down around Eddie’s cock. 

“Half of Los Angeles thinks I’m insane,” Buck pants against his neck. “I’m never going to be able to find anywhere to rent again.” 

“Good,” Eddie says with a bite to Buck’s earlobe. “You’re never leaving. And if we ever move out of here, it will be together. To buy our own place.” 

Buck throws his head back and moans. 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, canting his hips up into Buck. “You want that?” 

“Yes, yes I want that. Eddie, I want that so much.” 

“Fuck, you feel so good. I love you so fucking much,” Eddie groans. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” Buck’s moaning in Eddie’s ear. “I’m going to- Eddie.” 

“Come on, baby. Come for me.” 

Buck works himself harder, grunts being punched out of him every time his ass meets Eddie’s thighs. “Tell me again.”

“What?” Eddie asks, helping Buck along, using the leverage he has to rock up into him. “I love you? I do. I love you more than anything.” Something tells him to get Buck back below him, so Eddie does. He holds Buck’s thighs up under the knee and fucks him hard until he finds his prostate again. 

“I love you, baby,” Eddie says and that’s it. Buck’s entire body convulses, arches and twists. He’s shouting, babbling Eddie’s name and a ton of curses Eddie can’t even really decipher. 

He’s so beautiful when he comes. Eddie can’t believe he was going to go his entire life without getting to see this, getting to have this. What an idiot he’s been. He fucks into Buck until Buck is wincing a little with oversensitivity. He tries to pull out, but Buck traps him inside with his legs. 

“No,’ Buck pants, completely out of breath. “Come inside me. Wanna feel it.” 

It doesn’t take much longer after that before Eddie’s driving as far as he can into Buck and coming inside of him with long, thick pulses. He thinks he might be crying, knows he’s repeating Buck’s name like a prayer, can feel Buck’s hands rubbing soothing circles on his hips. 

He collapses against Buck when he’s done and they lay together, breathing heavily. Buck runs his fingers through Eddie’s hair, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek every now and then. 

When Eddie’s back on earth and able to collect his thoughts a bit, he raises himself up on his forearms to look down at Buck. “Does it always feel like that?”

Buck grins. “My head’s big enough as it is.”

Eddie swats at him. “Shut up, you know what I’m asking.” 

Buck gets serious. “I think it always feels better when you’re in love, yes. But to be honest with you, it has never, ever felt like that for me.” 

“So, that’s just an us thing?” Eddie likes the sound of that. What just happened being something he can only experience with Buck. 

Buck pulls Eddie down to kiss him, presses Eddie to open until he can get his tongue inside. “Yeah,” Buck says when he’s done. “I think it’s just an us thing.” 

“Good,” Eddie’s kissing Buck again. “Tell Ravi to fuck off.” 

Buck full body laughs beneath Eddie, his chest shaking. “I will. I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

*** 

bucknasty 

heyyy! nvm on the apt. eddie and i worked something out!!!

ravioli

wth i just finished compiling all the paperwork

ugh

wait

what do u mean by “worked something out”? 

bucknasty

:) 

ravioli

BUCK?????

tell me everything

omg i can’t believe i’m the first person to know

bucknasty 

*Message Sent with Invisible Ink* 

ravioli

why did i ask

i need to go bleach my eyes

GROSS

bucknasty 

:D 

ravioli

fin.