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The thing about Eddie Diaz is that he’s the easiest person in the world to love.
Buck barely made it twelve hours with his one-sided beef, before he was blushing and kicking his feet like some kid with their first ever crush. By the time Buck had seen Eddie with Christopher, he’d been willing to sell his soul to the devil if it meant keeping the both of them happy. It was so intense, so fast, that Buck never really had time to examine it.
So what if his heart beat faster every time Eddie touched him? So what if he was happiest when he was with Eddie and Chris? It didn’t mean anything that home became synonymous with the Diaz residence instead of his own loft. It was normal that, when Eddie almost died, Buck felt like he was dying too. They were friends. Family, even. Of course Buck loved them, that’s how family worked.
But then there was Tommy, and the fiercest, most twisted jealousy Buck had ever experienced. When Tommy had kissed him, it changed everything for Buck. It shifted everything he thought he knew about himself, and showed him a whole other world. It opened his eyes to the truth that had been standing in front of him this whole damn time, but he’d been too blind to see. The jealousy had never been about Tommy at all; it had always been about Eddie.
Because, for Buck, everything is always about Eddie.
It should have been harder, maybe, after all the time it took for them to figure it out. But falling into something more with Eddie was just about the simplest thing he’s ever done. Loving him has always been as easy as breathing, so when Eddie came to him - with shaking hands and tear stained cheeks - and said I’m gay, and then I’m in love with you, well. There was nothing else for Buck to do except kiss him.
He kissed him, and he kissed him, and he loved him right back. And it felt like finding home, after a lifetime of searching for it. Felt like all of their jagged pieces slotting into place.
And then Christopher came home, and everything was supposed to be perfect.
They’re back together again, finally, after far too long apart. And there’s still a little anger, and hurt, and confusion lingering, but it’s okay…it’s to be expected. They’re working through it, at home and in therapy. They’re talking, and figuring things out, and setting boundaries in place. They’re finding their rhythm again, after so much disruption.
“You’re not allowed to keep things from me if they’re going to affect me,” Christopher told Eddie once, during a therapy session with Frank, and Eddie had agreed.
So. They’re sitting at the table in Eddie’s dining room, talking after having chilli for dinner, when Eddie gives Buck the look. The we’re doing this look, that has Buck’s heart beating double time and his fingers twitching nervously.
“So, uh, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Eddie says.
Chris gives him a wary look as he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Eddie insists. “Nothing is wrong, I just. I just think there’s something I need to share with you.”
Buck wants to reach for him, but he knows it’s not the time. So he reaches for his glass of water and takes a sip, and with his other hand he quietly taps a beat onto the table. He can’t look at Eddie, and he can’t look at Chris either, so he stares at the door frame where Eddie marks Christopher’s height as he grows. The last one was almost six months ago - it’ll be time to do it again, soon.
“You remember the conversation we had when you first came back? About me, y’know, being-“
“-gay?”
Eddie laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, that one,” he says, and Chris nods his head.
He’d handled it better than either of them had expected, honestly. He just shrugged his shoulders, said, ”Yeah, that checks,” and that was basically that. Eddie wasn’t sure if he should have been flattered or insulted by that comment, but he was mostly just relieved. Thankful to have a son as understanding as Christopher, even after everything they’ve already been through.
“Well, Chris. The thing is - me and Buck…” Eddie begins, and then he takes a breath and reaches over to take hold of Buck’s hand in his own.
Before Eddie even gets a chance to say anything else, Chris shoots up from where he’s sitting across from them. The movement is so fast that he sends his fork tumbling to the floor, and Buck almost flinches with how abrupt it is.
“No,” he says, with an air of finality that’s hard to miss.
“What?” Eddie asks, slowly pulling his hand back.
“No, you can’t,” Chris says. “I don’t care if you’re gay, I don’t care who you date. But not him. Not Buck.”
The words hit Buck like a million tiny shards of glass piercing into his skin. It feels like death by a thousand cuts - like a pain he’s never quite felt before. Because Christopher is, well. Christopher is one of Buck’s best friends, but, more than that, he’s Buck’s kid. He loves him more than anything in the world. And to know that he doesn’t want Eddie dating him…Buck doesn’t have words for how much that hurts.
He’s in so much shock that he can’t even respond. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even move, he just watches as Christopher stares down his dad. With his arms crossed over his chest and a glare that could turn a man to stone, he’s as angry as Buck has ever seen him.
“Christopher, I don’t understand?” Eddie says. And his voice is soft and steady but Buck doesn’t miss the flicker of panic hiding in it. “I thought-“
“I’m serious,” Chris warns. “If you do this then I’m going to Texas, and I won’t come back this time.”
It’s like all of the air is sucked out of the room in an instant. Every single one of them is holding their breath.
Christopher looks like he can’t believe those words just came out of his mouth, Eddie looks like he’s about to shatter into pieces, and if Buck could see himself, he’s certain he’d look like he wants to fade into nothingness. He can’t believe this is happening - can’t believe that Buck and Eddie dating is such an abhorrent thought to Chris, that he’d flee the state all over again because of it.
“Christopher, you don’t mean that,” Eddie says, but it sounds like even he doesn’t believe his own words.
“Yes,” Chris argues. “I do. If this happens…I’m gone.”
“Can we talk about this, please?” Eddie asks. “You can’t just say-“
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
And, without looking back at either of them, Chris walks away. Neither of them move until they hear the slam of his bedroom door, and then it feels like all the air rushes back into the room like a storm surge after a hurricane. Buck sucks in a breath, and when he turns to look at Eddie, he finds he’s already looking back.
His skin is pale, and his eyes are wide, and it hurts something fierce to see Eddie looking at him like that - so vulnerable, so fearful. He only just got his baby back, and now - because he loves Buck - he’s on the cusp of losing him again. And Buck knows that’s not his fault, of course he does. But he can’t help but feel a little guilt anyway. Can’t help but feel like he put that expression on Eddie’s face.
“Eddie…”
“What the fuck just happened?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Buck says.
Because this was supposed to be the easy part. Getting him home, getting him settled and into therapy, coming out to him - that was supposed to be the difficult part. The Buck of it all was supposed to be simple, easy, maybe even obvious. Not for a single second had they planned for this…had they expected Christopher so vehemently oppose this.
And they don’t even know why. They don’t understand what could possibly be so awful about them being together, when they’ve spent the last seven years basically as a family.
“I thought he would be happy for us,” Eddie whispers.
The devastation in his voice absolutely guts Buck. He wants to reach for him - wants to curl himself around Eddie to shelter him from anything that might want to harm him. But that would only make this worse, he thinks.
If he’s the problem, he can’t also be the solution.
“I’m so sorry,” Buck says.
“I don’t - I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now? Do I talk to him? Do I give him space? I don’t know what the right move is here.”
“I think…I think I should go home, and give you guys some time to figure this out.”
The last thing Buck wants to do is leave, but he knows he has to. Except Eddie turns to look at him so suddenly that it’s a miracle he doesn’t pull a muscle in his neck. His brows are furrowed in a frown, and he reaches out a hand and tangles their fingers together like he never wants to let Buck go.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Eddie says.
“I know. Me either. But-“
“But you have to,” Eddie sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “Yeah. Okay.”
It hurts to stand up and kiss Eddie goodbye. Hurts to taste heaven on his tongue while knowing that this, somehow, is hurting Christopher. And it hurts to walk away from Eddie when he looks so lost - so untethered. Like he’d just found solid ground, only to realise it’s a sandbank that’s quickly disappearing beneath his feet and now the water is rising again.
But most of all, it hurts knowing that this could be the end for them. After all they’ve had to survive to get here - after all the changing, and growing, and breaking, and healing - they might be over, just like that. Buck would never dream of asking Eddie to put him before his son, and he knows that Eddie would never even consider it - he wouldn’t be the man that Buck loves so deeply if he did. But that doesn’t make the reality of this any less painful; it doesn’t stop Buck from feeling like the life that he’s worked so hard for is about to start caving in around him.
Buck drives straight to Maddie’s.
She doesn’t know about Buck and Eddie - they’d decided to keep it quiet because they wanted Christopher to be the first to know - but he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go. He can’t go back to his too-quiet loft and face the empty side of his bed, and he can’t go to Hen and Karen because they only just got Mara back home. Bobby would want answers Buck doesn’t know how to give, and he knows that Ravi has a date tonight. So.
Buck drives to his big sister’s house, because she’s the only person who knows him better than Eddie does. Because she’s the one person who can always make him feel better, even at his absolute worst. Because they’ve survived everything else together, so he knows they’ll survive this too.
“Buck,” Maddie sighs his name when she opens the door. And Buck isn’t sure what he looks like, but with the expression on Maddie’s face, it can’t be anything pretty.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course,” she says, ushering him inside.
“Where’s Chim?”
“He’s trying to get Jee to sleep, but she’s fighting him,” Maddie says as they take a seat on her couch. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
He does. Of course he does. He wants to tell Maddie all about it so she can give him a solution - so she can tell him how to handle this without breaking his and Eddie’s heart in the process. He wants to be able to talk about how much his heart is hurting, because he can’t do that with Eddie; he can’t make things any harder for him than they already are. But no one knows about them, and it’s not Buck’s place to out Eddie. He wouldn’t even dream of it.
So Buck sighs, and he shakes his head and says, “Yes. But I can’t. I just - I needed to see you.”
His voice breaks, and Maddie shifts closer to him on the couch. She’s sitting sideways, with one leg tucked beneath the other and her knee poking into Buck’s thigh. She takes his hand in hers and holds on tightly, and the gesture makes Buck’s walls start to crumble. He doesn’t realise he’s crying until she brings her other hand to his face, gently brushing away the tears that are silently rolling down his cheeks.
It makes him feel like a little boy. Reminds him of the sad, lonely kid he used to be. The one who was invisible to everyone but Maddie - to his big sister, who was more like his mom, and his sister, and his best friend, all rolled into one. It makes him want to lean into her like he used to, and let her chase all his worries away.
But this isn’t parents who don’t have time for him, or a grazed knee, or mean kids at school. This is his heart shattering. And he knows Maddie is pretty fucking special, but she can’t fix something like this.
“Oh, Evan,” she sighs. “What can I do?”
He shakes his head, covering her hand that’s touching his cheek with his own. “Nothing,” he tells her. “I just need you.”
“I’m here,” she assures him. “I’m always here. And whatever this is - it won’t last. It won’t always hurt so much, I promise you.”
But the thing about Eddie Diaz is that he’s not so easy to let go of.
Buck shows up at Eddie’s the next afternoon, because he can’t bear to stay away for any longer. He needs to know where they stand - he needs to know if he has to try and find a way to start navigating a new life for himself. A life where Eddie is no longer his.
“Hey,” Eddie croaks when he answers the door.
His eyes are bloodshot, and there are bruise-like circles pooling beneath them. His hair is sticking up in every direction, and his clothes are dishevelled. Even his socks don’t match, and usually Eddie always rolls his eyes at Buck’s whenever he’s wearing an odd pair. It’s clear he’s not doing well, and all Buck wants to do is kiss him better - kiss him until nothing else matters but the press of their lips and the grasp of their hands.
“How are you?” Buck asks instead.
Eddie laughs sarcastically as he says, “Living the dream.”
“Is Chris home?”
“He’s locked himself in his room.”
Buck follows him through to the kitchen, where Eddie is in the middle of brewing a pot of coffee. He takes a second mug out of the cupboard - Buck’s my adhd is chronic but this ass is iconic mug - and starts to make one for both of them. When they’re ready he slides Buck’s across the table to him, and wraps both of his hands around his own.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Buck takes a sip, and then he puts it back down. Eddie will barely meet his eyes - he’ll barely even look away from the clock on the wall, and it suddenly feels like time is running out for them. Like they’ve already had all the time they’re allowed, and now it’s about to be over before it ever fully got to begin.
“Have you, uh. Have you talked to Chris?” Buck asks, and he doesn’t miss the way Eddie winces.
“He won’t talk to me. He won’t…he won’t even look at me.” Eddie puts his coffee down and runs his hands through his hair instead. “I think he means it, Buck.”
And that’s what Buck had been afraid of - that it’s not the shock of their relationship, and it’s not something that is going to blow over. It’s really how Christopher feels. He doesn’t want Eddie dating Buck, and he’ll leave his home before he has to witness it.
It makes Buck feel sick. He always thought his relationship with Christopher was so stable, so strong. He never once felt like he didn’t belong with them, or that he wasn’t a part of their family. It stings like fucking hell to know that Christopher doesn’t want his dad to date Buck…that he won’t even talk to them about it. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong - if he’s done something wrong - or if this is simply Chris not wanting Buck to be a part of his family.
It doesn’t matter either way, really. At the end of the day it’s not the why of it all, it’s just the fact of it.
“Yeah,” Buck says. “I think so, too.”
“Buck…”
“I know.”
“I don’t - I can’t,” Eddie stutters, but nothing more comes out.
What is there to say, after all? They both know what this is. They both know that it has to end. There’s no easy way to walk away from the person who might just be the love of your life - no painless way to let go of the person you’ve spent an entire lifetime trying to find. Especially when neither of you even want to.
“I love you,” Eddie whispers. “I love you so much, and the thought of not being with you?”
Eddie has to pause, taking in a gasping breath as he tries to hold back the sobs that are threatening to break free from his chest. He squeezes his eyes closed for a second, and Buck uses that moment to wipe at his own. He doesn’t want Eddie to see him crying - doesn’t want to make this any harder for him than it already is.
By the time Eddie looks at him again his eyes are red and his lip is quivering, and Buck just wants to hold him. He wants to fold him into his arms and keep the whole world at bay - keep him safe and secure, always. But he doesn’t think he can; he isn’t sure if he’s allowed.
“God, Buck. It feels like I’ve been searching for you my whole life, and now that I’ve finally got you the thought of not being with you…” Eddie shakes his head. “It makes me feel like I can’t breathe. But-“
“Yeah. But,” Buck agrees.
“Christopher has to come first.”
Buck nods his head in both understanding and agreement. There’s no world where he or Eddie wouldn’t put Christopher first - no world where they would ever do something Chris wasn’t comfortable with, even if it means breaking their own hearts in the process. Because that’s what being a parent is about: always putting your kid first. So…
“I know, Eddie. It’s okay. We’ll be okay,” Buck promises, and his voice breaks but he refuses to cry.
Eddie looks absolutely devastated. He looks like Buck has reached inside of his chest and plucked out his still-beating heart. He looks as bad as Buck has ever seen him, like that night in Eddie’s bedroom, with a baseball bat in his hands and broken glass on the floor. And it makes Buck want to fix - makes him want to patch up the cracks, and clean up the glass, and make all of the hurting go away. But this time he can’t.
This time, there’s nothing Buck can do to make any of this better. They both just have to feel it, and hope it doesn’t break them. Hope it doesn’t kill them.
“You’re my soulmate, okay?” Buck says, his voice quiet so it doesn’t shake. “And I know you don’t believe in any of that shit, but I do.”
It gets a smile out of Eddie, even if it’s only small. Even if it’s sad, and pained, and miserable, at least Buck can still make him smile. That’s something to hold onto - maybe it’s the only thing to hold onto.
“And even if there wasn’t some red string of fate tying us together,” Buck continues. “I would have just done it myself. I would have lassoed you, and tied it around our wrists with a knot so it wouldn’t ever come undone. I would have chosen you in any and every lifetime.”
“Just not this one.”
Buck thinks he can feel his heart fracturing.
“I’m still choosing you, Eddie. I’m choosing you and Chris, okay?” Buck promises. “I’m not going anywhere.”
There’s no world in which Buck walks away from Eddie and Chris. There’s nothing either of them could say or do - no argument, or tragedy, or force of nature - that could ever push Buck away. Eddie and Chris are his family; they’re his people. Even if he has to live with his heart breaking a little more each day, Buck won’t ever leave them.
“I miss you and you haven’t even left me yet,” Eddie says, and when his voice breaks it takes Buck’s heart along with it.
Before he can stop himself, Buck is closing the distance separating them and pulling Eddie into his arms. It must be some kind of cosmic joke, how they fit so perfectly together even as they’re being ripped apart. Eddie’s face finds a home in the crook of Buck’s neck, his arms winding around Buck’s waist while Buck wraps his tightly around Eddie’s shoulders.
Buck can feel Eddie’s breath on his skin as he gently scratches his fingers across Eddie’s scalp. He can feel the way his body trembles as if he’s falling apart - as if his stitches are coming unravelled and all that Eddie is, is spilling out of him. So Buck just holds him close, as if that could somehow be enough to keep him together.
“I’m not leaving, baby,” Buck reiterates. “It’s gonna be the same as it always was, okay? Me, you, and Chris. That isn’t changing.”
“It’s not fair that I got to have you for a while, and now I have to let you go.”
Eddie has spent his entire life putting other people first. He’d spent so long taking care of others, that he’d forgotten how to even want something for himself. And now, when he finally remembers how to, he has to let it go. He has to give it up so he doesn’t lose his son.
Buck has to shut his eyes for a moment - has to take several deep breaths to compose himself before he even dares to respond. Because he has to be the strong one here. If Eddie is falling apart, Buck can’t. Buck has to hold it together. So he swallows down his cries, and he fights back his tears, and he saves the breaking for later.
“I know,” Buck replies. “I know it’s not. But we’re gonna be fine, Eddie. As long as Chris is okay, we’ll be okay.”
“Promise?” Eddie begs, and he sounds so young. So vulnerable.
“You are my best friend, Eddie. Nothing in the world will ever change that. I promise.”
It’s why they’re so perfect for each other, and it’s why this hurts so much. Underneath the love - before the kissing, and the sex, and the building of a life together - they’re each other's best friend. No one knows them like they do, no one gets them like they do. There’s not a secret Buck would keep from Eddie, and not a truth that Eddie wouldn’t trust Buck with. They’re made for each other.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie murmurs, and Buck feels the caress of Eddie’s lips against his neck.
“You never have to apologise to me.”
“I don’t want to let you go,” Eddie confesses, his arms tightening around Buck’s waist.
And Buck knows exactly how he feels, because he thinks it might take a crowbar to pry him off Eddie. Thinks he might need to be dragged out of here kicking and screaming, because there’s no way he can go quietly; this kind of breaking is a loud, ferocious thing. Eddie can probably hear the sound of Buck’s heart shattering inside his chest.
“Then we’ll stay here, for just a little bit longer.”
Buck can feel the sob Eddie tries to hold back - can hear the whimper that manages to slip past his lips. It tears something open inside of Buck, and it feels like whatever is left of his heart starts leaking into the space between their bodies and staining their chests crimson.
“Tell me you love me,” Eddie begs.
“I love you,” Buck promises.
And he just wishes that it could be enough.
He wishes he didn’t have to walk away, and he wishes things were different. But wishing won’t change this - it won’t save them from the heartbreak that’s about to happen. That would take a miracle, and Buck has already had his: meeting Eddie.
He takes Eddie’s face between his hands, tilting it upwards so his watery eyes are fixed on Buck’s. Buck tries to smile but he’s not sure he quite manages it, because a tear slips from the corner of Eddie’s eye and Buck leans in to kiss it away. And then, as gently as he’s ever touched Eddie before, he kisses him on the forehead once, twice, three times. Then he slips out of Eddie’s arms and steps backwards.
The way Eddie’s expression falters - the way his hands reach after Buck like he wants to stop him, wants to pull him back into his arms. It’s almost enough to have Buck sinking to the floor with grief. But then Eddie’s hands clench into fists as he crosses his arms over his chest, and his face hardens like he’s pulling the shutters down. Like he’s hiding all of his emotions, not just from Buck but from himself. Buck watches as Eddie literally closes himself off.
“I’ll, um. I’ll head home,” Buck says, his voice trembling as much as his hands are.
Eddie chews on the inside of his mouth, nodding his head as he avoids making eye contact with Buck. His eyes are back on the clock. Their time is up now.
“I think, maybe…maybe we just need some time, first. Before we, y’know, get back into the swing of things.”
Eddie flinches, his eyes quickly seeking out Buck’s as they fill with tears. “You said - you said you weren’t leaving. Buck, you promised-”
“-and I meant it, Eddie. I swear. I just - I’m gonna need a minute, okay?”
He’s not sure how he’s supposed to look at Eddie every day and not want to touch him, kiss him, hold him - he’s not sure how he’s supposed to remain whole, instead of shattering, every time that he can’t. He will never, ever turn his back on Eddie and Christopher, but Buck just needs a fucking minute. He needs some space to catch his breath after having the air knocked out of him. He needs to figure how out to go on with his life after losing what he thought was his future…his forever.
And he’s not sure he can do that while in this house, surrounded by the memories they made together. He’s not sure he can do it while sitting on their couch with their thighs pressed together, in the place where they fell in love.
“Not long, okay? And I’m still here for you, if you need me. Whenever you need me. It’s just - it’s gonna take some time, to get back to how things used to be.”
“Ok,” Eddie says, his voice too harsh. Too cold.
“Eddie-“
“You’re right, Buck. You should go.”
There’s nothing Buck can say or do right now that won’t make all of this just hurt even more. So he nods his head, and he turns around, and when he walks out through the front door, he leaves his heart behind him.
Everyone knows something is wrong.
It’s hard not to notice the distance that’s opened up between them, like a chasm along a fault line after an earthquake rocked the very foundation on which they stood.
And they’re trying. God, are they trying. They don’t want it to be like this, but it’s like they don’t know how to be any other way. Buck can’t lean into Eddie as they watch tiktok’s on his phone, and Eddie can’t kick his feet up into Buck’s lap as he tries to steal fifteen minutes of sleep between calls. It hurts too much, like rubbing salt into an open wound. It’s all so fresh, so raw, and it’s impossible for the rest of the team to miss it, even if they don’t know why it’s happening.
It doesn’t affect their work, of course. Because they’re professional, and because they’ve been doing this for a long time, and because they work so seamlessly together that nothing makes them falter anymore. Not even heartbreak. Buck doesn’t have to ask Eddie to get the halligan, and Eddie doesn’t need to tell Buck to grab the bolt cutters, they just know. They read each other as easily as a book because they know each other inside and out.
But the moment the doors of the engine close they’re back to painfully awkward silence. Their legs turned away even in the too-tight space, eyes fixed on anything but each other. And in the firehouse they gravitate to opposite ends - if Buck is in the kitchen the. Eddie is cleaning the trucks, and if Eddie is watching TV then Buck is up on the roof.
That’s where Chimney finds him, almost at the end of their first shift after the…after the breakup.
“This seat taken?” He asks, pointing to the empty foldout chair next to Buck.
“Be my guest.”
Two nights ago Chim had come downstairs to see Buck crying on his couch, with Maddie trying to comfort him. He already knew something was wrong, even before they all showed up for shift and realised there was an icy chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather.
“So,” Chim begins. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” Buck plays dumb.
Chimney laughs. “I don’t think I need to spell it out, Buck. What’s going on with you and Eddie?”
Buck chews on his bottom lip. Even if he was allowed to talk about this, he’s not sure he would be able to. It simply hurts too much. He’s scared that if he opened his mouth and tried to speak, he would just start to cry.
It’s been three days since Buck walked out of Eddie’s house, and neither of them have reached out to the other yet. And Buck knows why, okay. He told Eddie he needed space, and he meant it. Not forever, not even for very long, he just…he needs a little time to figure out how to put the mask back on and go back to pretending like he’s not in love with his best friend.
But that doesn’t mean being apart from Eddie isn’t painful - it doesn’t mean his heart isn’t breaking every time he catches a glimpse of the man that he loves, but can never have. He wants nothing more than to go right up to Eddie and pull him into his arms, holding him so tight that he can’t ever get away. But he’s scared that if he does that - if he doesn’t create a little room for himself to breathe - then he’ll never get over this. He’ll never stop being in love with someone who, through absolutely no fault of his own, will only ever break Buck’s heart.
“It’s complicated,” Buck says. It’s a non-answer, and Chim gives him a withering look.
“Well uncomplicate it, then.”
It’s Buck’s turn to laugh, as he shakes his head and runs his hands through his unruly curls. “It’s not that simple, Chimney.”
“It’s you and Eddie,” he says. “It’s always that simple.”
Buck thinks about what Chim says for a moment, trying to figure it out. Then he scrunches his nose and frowns, and Chimney smiles at him fondly. He knows he looks like Maddie when he does that.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks.
“It means it’s you and Eddie,” Chim reiterates. “You’re family. You love each other. It’s simple.”
Buck doesn’t think it’s ever been that simple between him and Eddie. Or maybe…maybe it’s always been that simple, really. Maybe, at the very heart of them, that’s the only thing in the world that has ever mattered: they’re family, and they love each other. But -
“It’s not that simple anymore,” Buck tells him, and it says a lot without really saying anything at all.
“Buck…”
“Please don’t ask me questions that I can’t answer,” Buck all but begs.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes deeply. Buck feels like a man on the edge. He misses his boyfriend, and he misses his best friend, and they’re both the same person even though he misses them in different ways. If he ever wants to survive this, he’s going to have to find a way to separate the two. He’s going to have to figure out how to look at Eddie and see just his best friend, instead of the man that he loves and lost.
“I wasn’t,” Chim says softly. “I was just going to say that you’ll work it out, whatever it is. You two always do. It’s like, I don’t know, fate, or something.”
Buck laughs and shakes his head, even though he can’t help but agree. As much as Eddie has never believed, Buck thinks it’s impossible not to. After all they have been through, after everything they’ve survived - the fact that they found each other, that they get to be in each other’s lives, there’s no way that happened by coincidence. There’s a little bit of the universe’s magic at work with them.
Buck stretches across the gap between the two chairs and gives Chimney’s arm a grateful squeeze. He appreciates him more than he can find the words for right now. Chim is sarcastic and playful most of the time, but he always knows the right thing to say tohelp someone. He always knows how to make you feel better.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he says.
Buck nods his head. He decides, in this very moment, that yes, it will be okay. Buck isn’t going to let there be any other option. He would have lived his entire life being quietly in love with Eddie, if it meant keeping his best friend in his life. Just because he finally got to have a taste of something more - of being loved back - it doesn’t mean that has to change. It doesn’t mean he can’t go back to loving Eddie in silence, while still being in his life. While still being there for his family.
So he swallows down all of his love - all of his too-big, too-loud, too-powerful feelings - and he makes the first move.
He knocks on the door.
“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, with a slightly stunned expression on his face when he sees Buck standing on his doorstep.
They hadn’t spoken all shift but as soon as they left the station Buck went back to the loft, changed his clothes, and immediately headed for their favourite pizza place. He holds up the pizza boxes he’s balancing in one hand, and says, “It’s Wednesday.”
“You said - you said you needed space?” Eddie reminds him, looking down at the floor, or over Buck’s shoulder, or anywhere that isn’t Buck’s eyes.
“Yeah, well. I don’t,” Buck tells him.
Because he can’t bear it any longer. He made it three days before breaking. He can’t stand the distance, or the awkwardness, or that goddamn ache inside of his chest. The ache that is getting worse the longer Buck tries to stay apart from Eddie.
He’d thought he would need space and time to get over this, but he was wrong. Buck could take a rocket to the moon and it still wouldn’t be enough space - he could live a thousand lives and it still wouldn’t be enough time. He’s never going to stop loving Eddie - Buck’s heart has been built to hold him inside of it. But he can stop missing him. He can stop staying away, as if that could have ever helped instead of just hurting more.
“Okay,” Eddie croaks, clearing his throat before he speaks again. “Come in.”
A feeling of home washes over Buck the second he passes the threshold. It’s barely been a few days, but he’s missed this place. Missed the way that it makes him feel. It’s where he built his family, brick by careful brick. It’s where he felt like a dad for the very first time, and it’s where he fell in love.
He turns to face Eddie, who’s watching him with a guarded look on his face. He’s wary, unsure, like he doesn’t know why Buck is here and he’s not sure if he can handle it. Buck isn’t offended…he understands. He’s not sure if he can handle it either, being so close and not being able to touch. But the alternative is far, far worse. So he’ll bite his tongue, and clench his fists, and he’ll weather the storm. Buck has been struck by lightning, so he thinks he can handle this.
“I got a margherita and a double pepperoni,” Buck says as he follows Eddie into the kitchen.
“Sounds good,” Eddie tells him.
He starts getting the plates out of the cupboard and Buck places the pizza boxes on the table. It feels awkward, like there’s this unfamiliar energy crackling between them that they’ve never had to navigate before. But when Eddie passes Buck a plate he smiles at him; it’s shy, and nervous, but it’s not enough to affirm that Buck is doing the right thing here. He’d rather his bones shatter over and over again, than never get to see that smile again.
Just as Buck is about to open his mouth and try to fill the silence, the sound of shuffling footsteps makes him clam up. He knows the instant Christopher spots him, because the atmosphere in the room instantly shifts. Buck has text him a couple times in the past few days, but Chris hasn’t text him back yet. He’s not sure what kind of greeting he’s about to get.
“What are you doing here?” Chris asks, looking Buck up and down before fixing his eyes on his dad.
“It’s Wednesday,” Buck says. “I’m always here on Wednesdays.”
It’s been a tradition for as long as Buck can remember. Every Wednesday that Eddie and Buck aren’t working, all three of them hang out together. They get takeout food, and play video games, and watch movies. It’s what they do - what they’ve always done. Buck trembles at the possibility that he isn’t welcome here anymore…that maybe Chris won’t want him around ever again.
“Are you here to see my dad?” Chris asks, but it sounds like an accusation.
“I’m here to eat pizza and watch The Winter Soldier.”
Christopher appraises them both for a moment, glances at the pizza on the table, and then finally settles his gaze on Buck. It feels like his heart is in his mouth. This is as bad as - if not worse than - missing Eddie. Because Christopher…he’s not really Buck’s kid, but he is in Buck’s heart. He is in all the ways that matter. The thought of Christopher being mad at him, and the thought of him no longer wanting Buck around, cuts worse than just about anything else that’s happened.
If Christopher can’t forgive him, it might just kill Buck.
But then Chris rolls his eyes and, ever so slowly, he smiles at Buck. It feels like the sun coming out after a long, bitter winter. And as Buck smiles back, some of the aching in his bones begins to ease up just a little.
“Did you get double pepperoni?” Chris asks, eyeing the pizza once again.
Buck scoffs. “Obviously,” he says. “What do you take me for?”
“I want at least three slices,” Christopher announces. “And you’re not allowed to talk through the movie like last time.”
He bustles past Buck, takes the plate out of his hand without asking, and begins to load it up with food. For a second Buck is just frozen; the complete normality of the moment takes him completely off guard. He glances at Eddie only to find that he’s already being watched, and Eddie has a relieved little smile curling up at the corners of his mouth. Buck lets out the breath it feels like he’s been holding since the night they told Christopher about them, and then he smiles back.
Their evening feels just like it always has done. Christopher very deliberately sits in the space between Buck and Eddie, and Buck is relieved for it; he’s not sure he would have coped if Eddie’s body was pressed up against his own. They watch The Winter Soldier, and Chris elbows Buck when he starts to talk but then teases him about fancying Bucky Barnes every time he’s on the screen. Buck laughs, and pokes Christopher’s sides until he giggles, and everything feels…it feels okay.
Buck can live with this. He can survive losing Eddie as his boyfriend, as long as he never loses them as his family. He can. He has to.
Buck feels like he’s stumbling through life on uneven ground, like he can never quite catch his balance. Every step that he takes feels unsteady and uncertain; he’s not sure when the ground beneath him might give way.
Everything that he’s spent years building has suddenly shifted. It hasn’t fallen down, and maybe it even still looks the same from the outside, but the interior landscape of it is different now. Buck, and Eddie, and Chris…they’re all still figuring things out.
They’re back to regular Wednesday night hangouts, and there was an exhibit about space travel at the science museum that they went to together last week. Chris is back to sending him endless streams of tiktok videos, and texting him random little facts that he thinks Buck might enjoy. Eddie’s knees knocked against Buck’s in the back of the fire truck the other day, and he didn’t pull away like he’d just been burned. They’re getting their rhythm back slowly, even if it’s a little different than it was before.
It still doesn’t hurt any less, though.
His love for Eddie is everywhere - it’s in everything. He opens his fridge and sees Eddie’s favourite beer, and he opens his drawers and finds Eddie’s sweatpants. He walks into Eddie’s house and sees the very first place that they kissed; he goes to work and sees the storage cupboard they made out in. The radio in Buck’s jeep is set to Eddie’s favourite station, and Eddie’s fingerprints are still seared onto Buck’s heart.
There’s reminders of them everywhere, no matter how much Buck tries to hide from them or block them out. They’re so wrapped up in each other - their lives so tangled together - that the evidence of them is impossible to miss. There’s no way to sweep it under the rug, no way to bury it. They just have to find a way to live with it. They have to find a way to live with the missing.
An unexpected knock at Buck’s door catches him by surprise as he’s folding the laundry that’s been sitting in his basket for three days. Every time he walks past he promises himself he’ll do it, but then something more important always steals his attention. It took Maddie threatening to come over and do it herself to finally spur Buck into action.
He breaks off halfway through, rushing to open the door. And whoever he might have been expecting to see on the other side, it certainly wasn’t Christopher.
“Chris - what? Does your dad know you’re here?” Buck splutters.
He pokes his head out of the doorway, looking past Christopher and down the hall to see if Eddie is following behind him. He is not. For the second time, Chris has shown up at Buck’s loft alone, without any prior plans or even a heads up.
Chris just shakes his head. “Not exactly.”
“…what does that mean?” Buck asks, kind of dreading the answer.
“He thinks I’m at the park with my friends.”
“Jesus Christ,” Buck sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he breathes deeply. “Okay, well. You better come inside.”
Christopher shuffles into the apartment with his head down and his gaze fixed firmly on his feet, like he knows he’s about to be in big trouble. He doesn’t look up until they’re both seated on Buck’s couch, and there’s nothing left for them to do except talk.
“You know I’m gonna have to call your dad, right?” Buck asks.
Chris huffs, but he nods his head anyway. “I know,” he says. “But can we talk first?”
“I - yes. Of course we can,” Buck says.
Because he meant it when he said that nothing on earth could push him out of Eddie and Christopher’s life. It doesn’t matter how strained their relationship has been, or how hard they’ve had to fight to get it back on track. Buck will always see Chris as his kid, even if Chris doesn’t feel the same. He’ll always be here for him. Chris could ignore him for months straight, and with a single phone call Buck would come running.
“Is everything okay?”
“No,” Chris says. “I mean. I’m worried about dad.”
Buck’s senses immediately shift to red alert. He remembers that phone call, years ago now, when Chris had called him frantic and scared. When Eddie had locked himself inside his bedroom and taken a baseball bat to everything he owned. He remembers the panic on the drive over, and he remembers the terror of hearing nothing but silence on the other side of the door - the absolute dread of breaking it down, not knowing what he was going to find when he stepped inside.
He tries not to let his thoughts immediately jump to the worst possible scenario, but it’s hard not to after everything else they’ve already been through. Life seems to have a habit of throwing trauma after trauma at them.
“Okay, what’s wrong?”
Chris chews on his fingernail for a moment, before asking, “Why do you want to date him?”
The question takes Buck off guard, for more reason than just one. First, he hadn’t expected Chris to want to talk about this; he thought the topic was over and done with. He’s refused to utter a single word to either of them about it before now, so Buck isn’t quite sure where this is coming from.
But, more than that, it hurts. It hurts to think about Eddie - about the things that Buck loves about him, and all the reasons that he wants to spend his life with him. The reasons that they belong together. They’re feelings that he’s trying to bury, after all. Feelings he’s trying to let go of in order to find a way to make this work - to make going back to just friends as painless as possible.
“Chris, we ended things, okay? You don’t have to worry about that. We would never want to make you unhappy.”
Christopher frowns, before saying, “That’s not what I asked.”
Buck can’t help but sigh. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, not even with Chris. “Does it matter?” He wonders.
Chris takes a second to think about his answer, but then he nods his head. “Yeah, I think it does. Because he’s sad, and you’re sad, and I think it’s my fault.”
Buck's heart physically aches inside of his chest. It aches because he misses Eddie like a phantom limb - like a part of him that has been stolen away. It aches because Eddie has been doing such a good job hiding it, but the thought of him being sad is simply too much for Buck to bear. And it aches because Christopher is blaming himself, when he hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Chris, none of this is your fault. Okay? We thought you’d be fine with it - we thought you’d be happy. But we were wrong. And you will always come first, to your dad and to me.”
“I just…I-“
“You can talk to me, Christopher,” Buck says. “I will always be here for you. That will never change.”
“Even if you and dad fall out?”
Chris sounds so worried, and so much younger than the fourteen year old he’s somehow become. And suddenly it dawns on Buck. Suddenly everything all clicks into place.
“Chris…is that what you’ve been worried about?” Buck asks, as Chris stares resolutely at the wall behind his head like he can’t meet Buck’s eyes. “Were you worried about what would happen if me and your dad broke up?”
Slowly, like he’s hesitant to admit it, Christopher nods his head. And in an instant, it all becomes so clear to Buck. The immediate, absolutely irrefutable disdain for their relationship, and his complete unwillingness to even entertain the possibility, makes so much sense now. The way he instantly shut down and shut them out wasn’t about Buck’s relationship with Eddie; it was about Buck’s relationship with Christopher.
Not caring that Chris is a teenager who’s too cool for hugs now, Buck closes the gap between them and folds the kid into his arms. He tenses for a moment, like it’s his instinct to pull away. But then all at once Christopher sinks into the hug, melting against Buck like he used to do when he was a little boy. It simultaneously heals and breaks Buck, because at least now he knows why Chris was so dead set against them dating. But he hates that Chris could ever doubt his place in Buck’s life - doubt just how important he is, and always will be.
“Buddy, nothing in the world could change the way I feel about you. Nothing, okay?”
Chris pulls back and wipes his damp cheeks as he explains, “Every time I started liking dad’s girlfriends, he would always drive them away. He did it with Ana, and with Marisol, and he never even thought about me. I don’t want the same to happen with you.”
“Woah, okay. Time out,” Buck says. “Chris, all your dad ever does is think about you. It makes sense that you were hurt by some of his choices, but it is not fair to say he wasn’t thinking about you.”
Chris huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, but Buck knows it’s just because he’s hurt. He knows that Christopher doesn’t really believe Eddie never thinks about him, or his feelings. He’s too smart and observant to ever truly doubt that.
“He loves you,” Buck tells him. “You know he would do anything for you.”
It takes a moment, but Chris eventually huffs out a breath and uncrosses his arms. He starts plucking at a loose thread on Buck’s couch, and maybe he should tell him to stop but he doesn’t bother. He hates the damn thing - nothing feels as comfortable as Eddie’s couch does, anyway.
“I know,” Christopher eventually sighs. “I know, I didn’t mean that. I just…” He trails off, finishing his sentence with nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders.
“I would too, y’know? Do anything for you. Even if me and your dad ever did break up - even if I somehow hated his guts - it would never, ever change anything between me and you. I’m here forever, okay? You’re stuck with me.”
“You promise?” Christopher asks. “Even if he breaks up with you like Ana, or hurts you like Marisol?”
Buck sighs. He gets where Chris is coming from, because he’s seeing all of this from the lens of a fourteen year old kid who has to deal with the fallout of his dad’s failed relationships. Buck isn’t sure how to explain things without overstepping, or having a conversation with Chris that Eddie might want to have himself. But he also can’t leave this open without making things clear to him.
“Chris, things didn’t work out with Ana or Marisol because your dad is gay. He didn’t mean to hurt them, he just couldn’t love them in the way they needed him to,” he explains.
“He still might have hurt you.”
Buck laughs. “Yeah, maybe,” he agrees. “Or I might have hurt him. But I’d still never leave you, Chris. No matter what.”
Silence descends upon them as Chris takes a minute to process their conversation. Buck will give him all the time that he needs because this is a lot for anyone to make sense of, let alone a teenager. Chris is frowning so hard as he concentrates, that there’s a little line forming between his eyebrows. The expression reminds Buck so much of Eddie that it tugs at something deep inside his chest.
He loves both of them more than he knows what to do with. And though he was willing to give up having Eddie as his boyfriend in order to keep both of them in his life, he just wishes that he didn’t have to. Buck thinks all three of them could have built something even more beautiful together, if only they were given the chance.
“I think I really hurt my dad,” Chris says, finally breaking the silence.
“Yeah, buddy. You did.”
There’s no point beating around the bush about it. He’s a smart kid with buckets of empathy, and if he’s old enough to hurt someone with his words and his actions, then he’s old enough to face the consequences of that. He’s not a little boy anymore - as much as Eddie and Buck might still wish that he was - and treating him like he is isn’t good for anyone. Especially Chris.
“I want to apologise to him.”
Buck’s smiling when he says, “I think he’d appreciate that a lot.”
“Instead of calling him, can you just take me home?” Chris asks. “And then…then you two can talk, as well.”
“You want us to talk?” Buck asks.
He’s trying desperately hard not to get his hopes up too much, but there’s a spark inside of him that was never quite extinguished, and Christopher’s words and his smile are starting to fan the spark into a flame.
“You make him happier than he’s ever been before,” Chris admits, and it almost brings tears to Buck’s eyes. “I don’t want to take that from him. I don’t want to take it from you, either.”
Buck takes a deep breath before telling Chris, “We don’t want to do anything that you’re not happy with, Chris. Not ever.”
Chris nods his head, listing sideways until his shoulder bumps into Buck’s. Buck takes that as permission to wrap his arm around Chris and pull him close for another, stolen hug. He doesn’t get many these days, so he’ll take all that he can get.
“I know,” Christopher acknowledges, “but I think it could be good.”
“Yeah?” Buck asks, holding his breath.
“Yeah. You’re already our family.”
And Buck doesn’t cry, but it’s a close thing.
Christopher uses his key to unlock the front door. Buck’s is still firmly attached to his keyring - he couldn’t even bear to consider giving it back - but he hasn’t used it in weeks now. Somehow it would feel like overstepping, despite the fact that Eddie gave him the key years before either of them even figured out how they felt about each other.
“Chris?” Eddie calls out, from what sounds like the laundry room.
“Yeah, dad. It’s me,” Chris yells back. Then, quietly, he says to Buck, “As if a burglar would let himself in with a key.”
Buck snorts, gently tapping Chris upside the head and making him laugh. “Smart ass,” he teases him.
They both hear Eddie’s footsteps approaching, and then he appears in the living room with a smile on his face. He startles when he sees Buck, though, and he glances between the two of them like he’s trying to figure out what exactly is going on.
“Buck? Is everything okay?” He asks.
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Christopher says, grinning as he slips away and rushes off to his bedroom.
He’s absolutely trying to get away with lying to his dad and going to Buck’s instead of the park, but Buck figures that’s something they can deal with later. Right now there’s only one thing on his mind, and that’s getting Eddie back. It’s holding him for the first time in weeks - for the first time since Eddie cried in his arms as they said goodbye to each other.
“What’s going on? What was that about?”
Buck scratches the back of his head nervously as he tells Eddie, “Christopher didn’t go to the park. He came to my place.”
“He did wh- Christopher!” Eddie calls out.
He swivels on his heel, as if he’s about to march over to Christopher’s room and start reprimanding him. But Buck reaches out and grabs Eddie’s wrist, tugging on it until he turns back towards him. He looks frustrated, and worried, and Buck wants nothing more than to kiss all of his worries away.
“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t yell at him. I know he shouldn’t have done it, but. He wanted to talk.”
Eddie frowns. “Talk? About what?”
“Uh, well. Us, I guess.”
“Oh.” Buck watches Eddie’s throat as he swallows. “Okay. What - what did he say?”
“He told me why he didn’t want us together,” Buck says.
Eddie visibly flinches. He’s seemed so normal this whole time, like it hasn’t been affecting him nearly as much as it’s been affecting Buck. But the second those words leave his mouth - the second Eddie is confronted with a reminder of what they lost - his entire demeanor changes.
His hands curl into fists and he shoves them into the pockets of the old pair of Buck’s sweatpants that he’s wearing, the ones that he has to fold over at the waist because they’re too long for him. He’s chewing on the inside of his mouth again, like he’s holding back words that he’s too afraid to say, and he’s blinking fast as if he’s trying to stop the tears from forming. He looks cracked open; he looks broken.
“He did?”
Buck nods. “Yeah. Among some other things.”
“What - what did he say?”
Buck doesn’t know how to answer that question without hurting Eddie even more. He knows that it will devastate Eddie to hear how much his breakups affected Christopher, and how worried he was that the same would happen with them. But he deserves to know. They can never move forward if he doesn’t.
“He was worried that,” Buck begins, then takes a breath to steel himself before he continues. “He was worried that if we broke up he would lose me, like with Ana and Marsiol.”
Eddie steps backwards like he’s been struck, but Buck doesn’t let go of his wrist. Instead he moves with him, stepping into Eddie’s space and taking hold of his other arm as well. He won’t let him spiral over this - won’t let him go down his usual path of self-loathing as he convinces himself that he’s a terrible father.
“Don’t,” Buck warns. “Don’t go there, okay? Stop blaming yourself. We talked, and I explained things to him.”
“Explained what? That I don’t know how to stop fucking up? Jesus, I-”
“-hey, I thought we agreed you’d stop being so hard on yourself? Do I have to call Frank?” Buck asks, and Eddie fixes him with a glare.
Eddie started going back to therapy after Chris left and he spent three days straight in bed with the curtains drawn. Buck had made the first appointment for him. He had to drag Eddie out of bed, force him into the shower, drive him there, and wait outside the door to stop him from walking right back out of Frank’s office. He drove Eddie to every appointment after that, until he was confident that he could be trusted to do it himself without skipping out on his sessions.
He only knows that Eddie is still going to therapy because he’s hung out with Chris a couple times while he’s been there. They don’t talk about it anymore, though. It’s not like when Eddie would come home after a session, collapse onto the couch, and tell Buck all about it while he played with his hair.
“Look, I told him that things didn’t work out with Ana and Marisol because they couldn’t. It’s not your fault you’re gay, right?” Buck teases, earning an eye roll and a small smile from Eddie. “But I made sure he knew that even if things had gone wrong with us, it wouldn’t change anything between me and him.”
“That’s really why he didn’t want us together?”
Buck nods. “It wasn’t me and you he was worried about. It was me and him.”
Something that looks a lot like relief passes across Eddie’s face, and Buck gets it. He was just as relieved, in a strange kind of way, that Christopher’s problem wasn’t really with them, but with the potential fallout of their relationship coming to an end. It’s like all of the tension Eddie has been carrying around for weeks seeps out of him, and he leans towards Buck subconsciously. Buck doesn’t let go of him. Instead, he moves his hands down and tangles their fingers together.
It shouldn’t shock him, not after the months they spent together and all of the years before that, when they loved each other so quietly that they didn’t even realise. But Eddie’s hands in his own still feel a little bit like magic - like two halves of one heart, finally becoming whole. He’s missed this more than he even has words for.
“He gets it now, though,” Buck promises. “He gets that I’m not going anywhere.”
“So - so he’s…”
“Yeah. Yeah he’s okay with it. With us.”
The breath that Eddie lets out is enough to shake Buck right to his core. He feels it burrow beneath his skin, wind between his ribs, and wrap around his heart. They come together like they’re each other’s centre of gravity - like there’s not a force on earth that could keep them apart for a single moment longer.
Eddie rests his forehead against Buck’s like he’s the only thing keeping him standing, and for a while they just breathe. With their hands locked, and their noses brushing together, they take a moment to just exist inside each other’s space for the first time in far too long. It settles all of the restless energy that’s been bubbling inside of Buck for weeks, and it soothes the ache that’s been living in his bones. It feels like coming home.
“Buck,” Eddie whispers his name like a prayer.
“I know, baby. I know.”
And then Buck kisses him.
His lips curve against Eddie’s like they were made just for each other, and the taste of Eddie on his tongue is sweeter than honey. Buck can’t stop himself from reaching up and holding Eddie’s face between his hands, and he cradles him like he’s something precious as Eddie winds his arms around Buck’s waist and refuses to let him go. A shudder richochets through Buck’s entire body and he presses impossibly closer, because even the slightest bit of space between them feels like far too much.
When their lips finally separate, it’s like Eddie can’t bear to pull away. He moves on to kissing Buck’s cheek, and jaw, and all down his throat. Sweet, closed mouth kisses that feel like a touch of heaven. He burrows his face against the side of Buck’s neck, and Eddie’s breath against his skin sends shivers down rippling down Buck’s spine. When Eddie sinks his teeth into the juncture between Buck’s neck and shoulder, Buck can’t help the gasp that slips out from between his lips.
“Sorry,” Eddie whispers, kissing the spot where he’s undoubtedly left teeth marks.
“It’s okay,” Buck reassures him. “I don’t mind.”
He gets it. Gets the need to claim - to leave his mark behind so everyone knows that Eddie is taken. That he belongs to Buck, and nothing and no one on earth could ever take him away.
“I love you, Evan. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” Buck promises. “I’ll never stop.”
He understands Christopher’s worries - he gets that they make sense from the outside looking in. But Buck knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this is it for them. There’s no going back. No one will ever fit him like Eddie does, and no one will ever understand him like Eddie does, either. They were designed for each other. Maybe it’s fate, or destiny, or the universe. Or maybe it’s just choice - a choice to give themselves over to each other completely, to spend time making sure their jagged edges fit together perfectly.
But, either way, there will never be anyone else for Buck. And he knows by the way Eddie holds him - by the way that Eddie looks at him - that there’s no one else for him, either.
“I’ve missed you. It feels like I’ve spent weeks holding my breath.”
“I missed you, too,” Buck says. “But I’m here now. You can breathe.”
Eddie kisses him again, like Buck is the only oxygen that he needs. And nothing has ever felt more right than this: Eddie in his arms, with their lips pressed together and their kid just down the hall. When Eddie pulls away he gives Buck a smile that rivals the sun, and Buck can’t help but trace the curve of his lips with his fingertips. Eddie kisses each one, so sweet and delicate that the act almost brings tears to Buck’s eyes.
He has to blink them away, and he clears his throat as he steps back just a little bit. He needs to put some space between them if he wants to try and think clearly - if he wants to think about anything other than EddieEddieEddie.
“You should go talk to Chris,” Buck says, nodding his head in the direction of Christopher’s bedroom. “I think there’s something he might want to say to you.”
Eddie nods and kisses Buck once more, then he heads down the hallway. Buck can hear the sound of Eddie knocking on Christopher’s door, and then the click as he opens and closes it behind him.
Buck sits down on the couch to wait for him, and he flicks through the TV channels without paying much attention to what’s on. Eddie is gone for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, and when he finally reappears his eyes are red and watery but he’s smiling. There’s a relaxed air to him that Buck hasn’t seen in a very long time. He opens his arms to make room, and Eddie collapses down beside him. He curls into Buck like there’s nowhere else he would rather be, fitting every line of their bodies together as if he can’t bear to have even a milimetre between them. Buck presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead, and he lets out a content sigh.
“Everything okay?”
“He apologised, and then I apologised, and then we talked.”
“Was it a good talk?” Buck asks, and he feels Eddie nod against his chest.
“The best.”
They’re silent for a little while - the only noise is the sound of a hockey game playing quietly on TV. Eddie traces the lines of Buck’s tattoos with his finger, while Buck plays with the clasp of the St Christopher medallion that Eddie wears around his neck. It’s the most at peace that he has ever felt in his life.
“Will you stay?” Eddie murmurs.
The night, forever - whatever Eddie wants from him, Buck will give it all.
“I’m not going anywhere.”