Work Text:
One week after the surprise virtual meeting with the realtor, Buck was on a mission. He understood where Eddie was coming from, but he also could see that his feelings were clouding his judgement. He tried to ease into the conversation but it hadn't gone over well. Eddie had tunnel vision. Sure, Buck maybe had some selfish intentions when it came to putting a full stop to Eddie's (horrible) plan, but it didn't change the fact that he was being the more logical one between them.
"Maybe you could just visit him for a week first," Buck suggested. "What if he wants to come home?"
"What if he doesn't?" Eddie shot back.
"I think you better ask your son before spending $250,000 on a mistake," Buck said flatly. His patience was running thin. Between Eddie's impulsive ideas, panic, and the sudden prospect of being left behind, Buck was Not Doing Well.
"We had the meeting with the realtor and got a feel of the market. You know you have options if you choose to move. But maybe we should consider the options that don't include you uprooting your life in LA first."
"There is no other option! Everything I need is in El Paso, Buck! What's the point of all this," he gestured around, "without Chris?"
Buck remained silent, staring at him intensely. He clenched his jaw and waited for Eddie to say more, but he appeared to be out of words.
-
To Eddie, the path was clear: Christopher was his world, and everything else came second. He owed it to his son to be there for him as best as he could.
"What about me?" Buck said quietly.
"What do you mean?" Eddie blinked, pulled from his one-track mind.
"Everything you need is in El Paso? What about me?" Buck's tone turned accusing, unable to hold back any longer.
"I... I need my son, Buck." Eddie's voice was slow, reluctant.
"Maybe I need you," Buck said stiffly, his eyes peering into Eddie's.
Eddie, for what it was worth, was shocked at the candid admission. This was... not the time. This was not the fucking time. His entire life was already in shambles, and adding... whatever to it was not an option. Not now. He didn't have the capacity to handle it. He couldn't.
"Don't," Eddie managed to say despite the tightness in his chest building.
-
"Don't leave, then." Buck felt so damned angry that the words sounded more like a demand than a plea. He'd be damned if Eddie was going to uproot their lives from a rash decision.
"Don't make me choose between you and Chris," Eddie snarled, his own temper rising.
The words stung as if someone slapped him. "I would NEVER do that, Eddie, and I'm not doing that right now. I'm telling you that we can find another solution so you don't have to choose at all."
"I can't." Eddie snapped back so quickly that Buck doubted he was even listening at this point.
"There's got to be another option."
"I can't!" Eddie yelled and took a step back. His chest was rising and falling harshly, eyes trained on the wall behind Buck, refusing to look at him.
"I'm asking you not to leave me. I lo–"
"Get out." Eddie took another step back.
"Edd–”
"Out!" He was shaking.
Buck felt his own anger flare. Eddie was making a life-changing decision based on his stress and heightened emotions. He wasn't listening. No matter that Buck himself was spiraling at the news. No matter that the life Buck had built was going to crumble, too.
"Think of Christo–"
Eddie stomped away, heading towards his bedroom. His shoulders were tense, and he was shaking his head as he stormed out of Buck's sight.
Buck stared at the door for a long while after Eddie slammed it shut. His heart was pounding, his mind racing. He'd actually just said... a lot more than he meant to.
Fuck.
Fuck!
He felt like he was dangling off the edge of a cliff, about to fall, and Eddie had left him to fend for himself.
Buck left.
-
Evan fucking Buckley - the man who made it all about himself. A saga of strife and rejection. The tale of hardship and perseverance. A tragedy in 97 acts.
Eddie punched the stupid throw pillow sitting on his bed and then chucked it against the closet, making the door ricochet slightly from the onslaught. He paced up and down the length of his small bedroom, only four steps in each direction, and tried to battle the feelings consuming him.
It was his biggest vice: his inability to sort through all of his emotions. Anger was familiar; easy to find and cling to. Anger made sense. Anger was comfortable amid the other chaos ravaging his mind.
Because what the fuck had just happened?
Eddie didn't know, but he did know he was angry.
He was so fucking angry at...
He hit the side of his head roughly with the palm of his hand, willing the thought away.
No-no-no! He had gone behind peoples' backs. He had lied. He had buried his grief and tried to side step it with a look-alike of his dead wife.
He was the one at fault, and he only had himself to blame.
Being angry at Christopher wasn't fair or logical. He couldn't be - he wouldn't allow himself to be. It was his fault that Christopher felt the need to call his grandparents and run away to Texas. It was his fault that Christopher had no idea how much he hated Texas. It was his fault that the price of his abundant sins was moving back to the place it took him 25 years to escape from.
His misdirected anger at Chris wasn't fair and he needed to get a fucking grip on himself.
On top of all that, Buck had to go and make it all about himself. As if...
Well.
Maybe it did involve him.
Maybe he was part of their little family, and did have a say.
Maybe Eddie didn't want to leave him either.
Maybe he heard the first part of what Buck almost said and really, really didn't want to hear the end of it.
Maybe he misheard and misunderstood.
...Or maybe he did want to hear it.
Maybe he needed to hear it.
Maybe what he heard would give him a reason to stay.
(He didn't deserve to stay. Chris needed him. He had to go.)
Maybe he was sick of living in purgatory.
Maybe... he could stay in LA... with Buck... and...
Maybe they could bring Christopher home.
Maybe he didn't have to lose anyone.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
What the fuck was he doing?
Eddie pulled open the bedroom door roughly and stomped back into the living room.
"Okay, I guess–"
The room was empty.
"Buck?" He waited for a noise, but was met with silence.
"Shit," he mumbled and ran a hand over his face. Wasn't that just perfect? Wasn't that just on-brand, his M.O.? Eddie fucks up, runs away, and in the process drives away the people he cares about.
He didn't want to be that person anymore! That was the whole point! That was why he wanted to move to Texas, back to his son. He wanted to change: be present instead of choosing to hide. But what good was moving if he was just the same person with the same toxic traits?
Eddie plucked his phone off the table and unlocked it. The top message thread was for Buck, and he clicked the call button without hesitating. It rang twice before being sent to voicemail, indicating it was an intentional ignore rather than a mere missed call with bad timing.
"Shit." Eddie ended the call and gripped the phone tightly.
He called again, receiving the same treatment that he definitely deserved.
Eddie
Call me back. I'm sorry. We can try to come up with something else
Eddie sent it without hesitation and then resumed his pacing, this time with more space to work with in the living room.
Buck
You kicked me out
Eddie
I didn't mean it
come back
Eddie watched the typing bubbles appear and reappear a few times. Impatiently, he texted a third time before Buck could concoct a reason not to.
Eddie
Ill go to your place. Where are you?
Buck
I'm still in the driveway.
Eddie threw his phone onto the sofa and jogged outside, preparing to stand behind Buck's Jeep so he couldn't leave if that's what it took.
Buck was a pathetic sight, and if Eddie wasn't internally freaking out he maybe would have joked about it and tried to cheer him up. But in this case, there was nothing to joke about; he needed to apologize.
He reached for the handle and was relieved when the driver door opened. Buck didn't look at him, instead he stared ahead out the windshield.
"I'm sorry."
Buck's arm twitched.
"I don't want to leave LA." I don't want to leave you.
Buck looked at Eddie finally, his face scrunched up.
"Maybe I can go to Texas first and try to talk to Christopher."
"I could go with you." Buck's voice was flat, dejected.
"I'm sorry I yelled."
Buck nodded and pulled the key out of the ignition.
"I'm sorry I pushed."
Eddie offered a hand and Buck accepted, hopping out of his car. He let go of Eddie's hand quickly and let his fall to his side.
"Did you ask Chris if he wanted you to move to Texas?"
Eddie let out a humorless laugh. "That would require him staying on the phone for more than sixty seconds. Didn't seem like the kind of thing to text."
"Moving without asking him isn't a good idea either," Buck said with a huff.
Eddie withheld his knee-jerk response, which was to spiral and double down on his choice. He didn't feel like he had any options at all, and being near Chris was all he could think about. He couldn't miss any more time with his son. He'd promised himself years ago that he wouldn't leave him again, and now already more than a month passed with him breaking that promise every day.
"Either way, I need to go to Texas," Eddie said miserably.
"You don't have to do this alone."
"I know."
Eddie believed him.
Buck carried on normally, as if he hadn't thrown an adult tantrum about his best friend moving away to be with his son.
As if that had been a normal reaction.
Eddie, at least, took it in stride.
They left it unspoken.
This left way too much room for speculation and thoughts to whirl around Buck's mind, which was both a blessing and a curse. He wondered if Eddie felt the same way that he did: that their relationship meant more than they put words to. He wondered if Eddie saw him as his family the same way Buck considered Eddie. He wondered and wondered and never brought up the subject, so he never got an answer.
Maybe it was for the best, not having an answer. What if addressing it meant losing it? Buck couldn't. He could. Not.
He'd lost or never had too many things in his life, and losing Eddie was not something he would survive without significant damage.
Ex
Treme
Ly
Sig
Nif
I
Can't
Cannot.
He woke up in the middle of the night, in his bed, in his loft, and looked around. He was alone, sure, but he wasn't really. Eddie was only a 20 minute drive away.
But what if Eddie wasn't?
What if?
Buck loved Eddie. He was his best friend, his family, and his favorite adult on the planet.
But he was not a cliche: he was not in love with his straight best friend.
He knew the difference between romantic and platonic love. He was loyal to a fault, to all of his friends and family, and he knew what the difference was between being there for family versus being there for a romantic partner.
(Right?)
Having breakfast ready for the Diaz boys after letting himself in their house with the key he was given was definitely, certainly platonic. Although he'd never done such a thing for Maddie (and never would, because that would be intrusive), it was a familial love kind of thing. Familial.
Say it again, slower: familial.
So what if he knew where Eddie hid the good candy. So what if he had a shared online calendar with Eddie. So what if he had his own set of shower necessities on his own shelf in Eddie's bathroom. So what if he bought a set of his favorite brand of sheets for Eddie's bed, knowing he'd use them once or twice a week when it was his turn to take the bed. So what if he knew Eddie's medication routine by heart and made sure he took them every morning.
So what?
He loved Eddie, and his life would surely crumble without him. But he wasn't in love with him. That would be preposterous.
Eddie was in love with Buck.
Buck was his best friend, his family, and his favorite adult on the planet.
He was a walking cliche: a confused, not-straight man, in love with his best friend.
He knew the difference between romantic and familial love. Eddie had a large family and knew the limits of his relationship with each individual family member.
With Buck, he had no limits. And that was the glaring, queer, repressed problem.
He loved that Buck was part of their household. His favorite mornings were the ones met with Buck's surprise presence in his kitchen. Unlike the girlfriends of his past, seeing Buck living comfortably in his home never felt intrusive.
Buck knew his schedule, knew where to locate every knick-knack in the house, had his own drawer in Eddie's dresser, had his own section of Eddie's closet, had his own designated pillow on the bed, and was constantly checking on his well-being.
Buck cared more, cared harder, than anyone Eddie had ever met. And he was in love with him for it.
He knew that if he moved to Texas that his life would surely feel darker without him.
He wasn't sure how he could live without Buck. He was willing to do it, if he had to, for Christopher. But would he ever want to?
The thought of it was preposterous.
Of course, neither one of them did anything about their feelings and not-feelings for the other. Instead, they threw themselves into the task of bringing Christopher home.
Eddie couldn't find it in himself to stop thinking about Buck's presence in every part of his life.
This made him think about his absence, if it came to that. There would be holes everywhere. In every room. In every conversation. In every day. At work. At home. In his heart.
Right now, there was a hole from Christopher's absence. That one, however traumatic it may be, still felt temporary. He was an adult, after all. He could go to Texas any time he wanted and drag Christopher home. He hadn't out of respect for Christopher, but as the weeks pressed on and his son showed no signs or willingness to even talk, Eddie's patience was running dry.
Buck told him to "dad up." And he was finally going to.
With Buck.
Buck was beside him in the car on the drive to the airport. He scanned his phone to pay for the parking spot where it would stay stationary while they were in Texas.
Buck stood in front of him in the TSA line, babbling about the rental car he booked and wondering aloud if the two-night booking at the hotel was long enough. Eddie was confident his parents or aunt would host them when they found out they were in town, though. Two nights was more than enough.
Buck took the aisle seat and Eddie sat in the middle. Luckily the passenger sitting in the window seat was relatively small, so their large statures weren't too obstructive for the short trip. They still lowered the armrest between them and pressed against one another during the flight to take up less space.
Buck grabbed the suitcases from the luggage carousel, and Eddie rolled them to the rental counter while Buck clicked around his phone for the reservation and instructions.
Buck drove them to the hotel while Eddie navigated and pointed out random areas of the city. El Paso wasn't all bad. It was just the suburban Hellscape he grew up in that he dreaded.
It was mid-afternoon by the time they were checked in and had freshened up from their morning travel. Eddie watched the clock anxiously. Christopher would be leaving school around this time. He knew which school he was enrolled in and would have loved to show up to surprise his son. A year ago Chris would have been ecstatic for something like that. Now, things had changed and Eddie was walking on eggshells to not traumatize his kid any further.
Buck, attuned to his anxiety, sat down beside him on the edge of Eddie's designated bed, and bumped shoulders with him.
"He's going to be surprised, but it'll be okay. We just need to make sure he knows we're only here to talk, not to force him into anything."
Eddie nodded but it felt like a farce. Hopefully this didn't blow up in their faces.
"We need to call him and tell him we're here."
The idea was that since they were already in the state, Christopher had no room to protest seeing them. As much as he didn't want to force his son into anything, he couldn't give him complete control of the situation any longer. He was 12, for goodness sake.
Eddie worked his jaw but nodded and withdrew his phone. For good measure, he checked the location sharing app just to be sure Chris was out of school already. It showed him on a familiar county road, moving at a steady pace, which meant he was in the car with either his mom or dad and heading towards home.
Well. At least this way he wouldn't have to talk to his parents, too.
He clicked the call button and waited, trying not to feel agitated as the phone rang and rang. The kid was glued to his phone, and it felt almost intentional that he was taking so long to answer...
"I'm busy right now, can't talk." Chris' voice sounded dejected, which Eddie truly hated. Was a call from him really that horrible? Buck must have seen his face fall because he patted Eddie's thigh for comfort.
"Actually, bud, I need to tell you something." Eddie tried not to sound miserable and Buck gave him a thumbs up.
"Dad..."
"We're in Texas!"
"What?"
"Me and Buck." Eddie didn't have to force the uplift of his words when he mentioned Buck.
"Buck's here?" Christopher's shocked tone melted into curiosity.
"Both of us, yep." Buck clapped his hand down on his leg for encouragement.
He could hear someone in the background speaking, his mother he thinks, and Christopher replied to them with a "no." Eddie waited impatiently, gripping the edge of the bed.
"What... are you guys doing?"
"Well, we hoped to get dinner with you if you're up for it. We got a hotel." Eddie's eyes were wide and was looking at Buck for guidance. Buck nodded and smiled too wide, straining from the fake bravado.
"You want to get dinner with me," Christopher repeated back.
"If you want to."
"What if I don't want to?" Christopher said quickly, his tone snippy. Like a damn teenager.
"I-uh-well that would suck," Eddie stuttered.
There was a beat of silence.
"Buck will be there?"
"Yep, I'll be there! Hi Chris!" Buck finally broke his silent streak and waved, although Christopher couldn't see it.
"He's waving at the phone," Eddie narrated, amused.
Christopher giggled. He laughed, and Eddie's eyes widened again, looking at Buck with excitement. He hadn't heard his son's laughter in months. It filled him with hope.
"Okay, fine. You can come pick me up whenever."
"Great!
"I want to, it's fine." Eddie could tell that the words were not for him, but for whichever one of his parents were in the car. "What? You know Buck." Chris sounded irritated, which was satisfying as an audience member.
Buck scoffed, obviously in agreement.
"I want to," Chris said again, a little louder, a little more adamant, and Eddie knew the tone meant he was gearing up for an argument if it came down to it. Christopher was going to argue on his behalf, and it made him want to celebrate.
"Okay, dad, see you in a bit, I gotta go." Christopher huffed and hung up abruptly, clearly agitated.
"Is it bad that I'm feeling really happy that he's not mad at me this time?" Eddie looked down at his phone. He felt happier and lighter than he had in weeks - months!
"Your parents piss me off." Buck's outburst gained his attention. He'd been in his own head, reveling in the success of the call, and hadn't noticed Buck's disdain.
"What?"
"They're not even trying to encourage him to see you. They asked if he was sure. Like, hello, you're his dad - they should have said it was a great idea and offered to drop him off here right now!"
"They did what I expected. You know how they are."
"Yeah, well, they suck. All of our parents suck. At least we have each other." Buck's anger seemed to melt as the call got further away from them. "We get to see Christopher! Where should we go? What's his favorite place here? Do you know? Should I make a reservation? It's Wednesday, so I doubt it's going to be busy, but you never know."
"Thank you for coming with me, Buck. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you."
Eddie couldn't help the fondness he was feeling from showing across his face. Conscious thoughts about his feelings for his best friend were something he pointedly avoided, but sometimes they bombarded him. His life was so much better with Buck in it, and he never wanted that to change.
"No, you would have just bought an entire house instead," Buck joked. "Maybe we just let Christopher decide."
"Decide what?" Eddie asked, distracted by his thoughts.
"Where to eat."
"Oh yeah." Right. Christopher. He had to focus. "Should we go now?"
"Yeah, let's go rescue him from his wicked grandparents."
Buck made everything easier. Eddie spent the drive gripping the steering wheel and checking the rear view mirror every few seconds to get a look at Chris. Luckily, Buck was filling the silence with stories about their most recent calls, and Chris was asking questions.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that nothing had changed and that everything was how it was supposed to be.
But he was driving, and that just wasn't the reality of the situation.
Christopher chose a pizza place and when they pulled up Eddie knew why. There was a large neon sign that said arcade.
"This is fine, right?" Chris asked, poking his dad's shoulder from the back seat. It was the first time they touched since the horrible night Chris left after a one-sided hug goodbye.
"Yeah, of course it's fine."
"Awesome! Abuela tells me it's too expensive every time I ask. They kept telling me they'll take me one day, but they still haven't."
Eddie was familiar with the tactic, having grown up with it his entire life. In order to get him to stop asking for things, his parents would placate him with reassurances and never follow up. He made it a point to not do anything like that to Chris. The kid didn't deserve any kind of disappointment in his life, and Eddie knew how it felt to feel like his interests weren't important.
The three of them headed into the restaurant, Chris leading the pack. He looked excited, and Eddie couldn't help but feel the same. So far everything was going pretty well, although they hadn't done any talking. He was happy to enjoy the pleasantness before bringing up any hard topics.
They spent the first hour playing games, choosing two to four player games so they could take turns versing one another. They had a large collection of tickets between the three of them, and Chris kept talking about which prizes he wanted, automatically assuming that all of the tickets would be his in the end. Buck and Eddie exchanged amused looks every time he did it, because they knew that's what would happen although they hadn't agreed to it aloud yet.
By the time the tokens ran out, all three of them were hungry. They washed their hands and sat down at the table while Chris continued to debate which prize he was going to choose before they left.
Only after their orders were placed was there a lag in the conversation. Eddie gave Buck a panicked look as if to say, "Please fill the silence or else I'm going to say something stupid."
Turns out, Buck was going to do that for the both of them.
"When you come home we can go to the big arcade at the mall. I think you're finally tall enough to do the zip line."
"Yeah," Chris mumbled.
"And I was thinking we could take a trip down to the San Diego Zoo sometime," Buck said, not holding back, in true Buck fashion.
Christopher looked between them, nervous.
"Buck..." Eddie started to object.
"What? We need to talk about it eventually," Buck said, the face of innocence. "Between the two of you it'll take ten years if I don't bring it up."
Eddie and Chris sighed at the exact same time, the exact same way, and Buck snorted.
"This is why you both love me. You're the same deep down."
Eddie had to force his face to stay neutral. Christopher rolled his eyes.
"I have friends here."
"You have friends in LA," Eddie responded simply and looked at Buck for guidance.
He was terrified to screw it up and almost didn't want to speak. He was supposed to be the adult, and yet he was starting to panic. If it didn't go well, he may actually have to move back to this God-forsaken place and live within driving distance of his overbearing parents.
"Do you like it here?"
"It's fine." Chris was giving nothing.
"Do you... want to live here?" Eddie asked tentatively. Buck’s jaw clenched but he stayed quiet. Christopher furrowed his brow.
"I do live here. I'm in school here."
"I meant permanently," Eddie said bluntly.
Chris shrugged, and his eyes flickered to Buck.
"I miss some things about LA," he admitted at long last. "And some things I don't miss at all."
His eyes landed on Eddie and his voice got a little harder.
"Chris, don't be mean." Surprisingly, it was Buck who spoke the words. He was frowning, looking like a disappointed dad, and Eddie felt a swoop of something-or-another in his stomach that he was going to ignore.
"It's not my fault! He's crazy!" Christopher said with an exasperated tone, his hand landing on the table a little roughly.
"Christopher!" Buck all but yelled, gaining the attention of the people sitting at the neighboring table.
Eddie didn't even know what to say, because Christopher was just voicing what Eddie already felt inside. It was only a matter of time before his son saw through him. He clenched his jaw and tried to stay neutral. He was the one who was supposed to be strong and stable. When Chris realized he wasn't, of course he'd chosen to leave.
"That's not true, Eddie," Buck said fiercely. "Christopher, I don't know why you think it's okay to talk like that to anyone, let alone your dad."
"He's the one who dressed up some lady like my dead mom and cheated on his girlfriend."
There was a gasp from the side, where the waitress was standing with their pizza in hand. She looked shocked and Eddie groaned, finally reacting and letting his head fall into his hands.
"That's not what happened!" Buck said loudly, talking to Chris, and then turned to the waitress. "Kids and their imaginations, right? Thanks for the pizza."
He all but snagged the pizza pan out of her hands and shooed her away.
"Even my abuelos think you're crazy," Chris said with a snarky tone, for no other reason than to be hurtful.
"Christopher, I don’t know what's gotten into you, but I know you're not cruel. This isn’t you." Buck, once again, did the parenting.
Christopher slumped in his seat and reached for a slice of pizza, staring at it morosely as it flopped in his hand. He refused to look up.
"I need some air." Eddie stood and didn't look back before heading outside.
-
Buck reached across the table and moved Christopher's plate away from him, refusing to let him distract himself with his food.
"I don't know what your grandparents said to you, but calling your dad names isn't the solution. If you have questions, you ask them. You don't make up stories and hurt people because you're confused.
"I know that a lot has happened, but this is why talking is so important, buddy. You two need to talk."
"What about that time he broke the walls?" Chris said quietly, still not looking up.
"You're older now, so maybe there's more you deserve to know about that." Buck chose his words carefully, not sure how in-depth Eddie was willing to dive into his mental health with his son.
"He's just going to make up excuses. That's what abuela said."
Buck was not a violent person, but he was pretty sure he could commit arson without being caught. Too bad he didn't know the Diaz's address. (Yet.)
"Even adults make mistakes sometimes, and it's how we respond to the mistakes that matters."
Chris didn't speak but he did lift his head and look out the window.
"Do you think he left?" he asked sadly.
"No, he would never leave you."
Christopher slowly pulled his plate back in front of him and when Buck didn't object he took another bite of pizza. He chewed slowly and swallowed before speaking again.
"Maybe if he explains..."
Buck nodded. "Want me to go get him?"
"Yeah. I guess." Buck stood up to retrieve Eddie from outside. "Wait, Buck. Can we all eat first and talk in the car after?"
"Yeah, I'm sure that's fine."
-
Outside, Eddie was struggling to keep his composure. He was leaning on the hood of the rental car, replaying every mistake he ever made on a loop in his head.
When Buck emerged, he patted his back and rested his hand on Eddie's shoulder.
"He's willing to talk. Or at least listen. I've never heard him speak like that before, Eddie, what the hell was that?"
"My parents, probably," Eddie said, dejected.
"I don't like it." Buck sounded genuinely angry and Eddie was once again blown away by the mere presence of him. What the hell would he be doing without him?
"He asked about the time the walls were damaged in your bedroom." Eddie appreciated the way Buck worded it to avoid blaming him for the destruction he caused during his breakdown. Chris had seen the proof of his dad's 'craziness,' and his parents were only reminding Chris of what he already knew.
"What am I supposed to tell him, Buck? That he's right? That I can't keep my shit together and that I destroy things because of it?" Eddie started pacing in front of the car to expend his nerves.
"No. You tell him the truth."
The truth? That people around him die? That he doesn't know what normal is? That he is haunted by his past and feels guilty for the mistakes he's made? That he loved Shannon but she asked for a divorce because she saw the truth: that he was broken? How was he supposed to admit to his child, who he was trying to convince to come back to him, that he was a failure?
"He won't come home if I do."
"He won't come home if you don't."
Eddie threw his head back and stared up at the sky. The sun had already set, but it was still light out. It was a beautiful evening, despite it all.
"C'mon, let's go inside and eat. We can talk about it after we leave."
"The waitress..." Eddie ran his hand over his face, embarrassed.
"She got a good story today, that's for sure." Buck smiled a little and wrapped his arm around Eddie's shoulder to give him a half hug. Eddie groaned and let himself be pulled back into the restaurant.
-
What followed was one of the most awkward dinners that Buck ever had. The waitress made it a point to visit their table more times than necessary, probably hoping to get more tea from the trio. Unfortunately for her, the conversation was on hold until they left.
By the time the leftover pizza was boxed and the check was paid, Christopher had picked out his prize from the prize table. His excitement wasn't as great as it had been before the meal, but he still seemed pleased with the decent sized model car that Eddie was carrying for him.
When the last of the car doors were shut and seat belts were buckled, the three sat in awkward silence. This time, Buck was in the driver's seat, and he wasn't sure if he should start the car or get out of it and let the two talk amongst themselves.
"I can wait outside so you two can talk alone..."
"No!" Two voices spoke at the same time, Eddie's more urgent than Christopher's.
"Okay, well, I need an address."
Eddie typed it into the GPS, and with that, they were off. Eddie turned in his seat so he could look Christopher in the eye while he spoke.
"I loved your mom, Chris, but she didn't want to be with me. Before she died, she told me that she was going to be around for you, to be your mom, but that she wanted a divorce from me. She loved you."
"But she didn't love you?"
"Not the way I wanted, no. And we never got to speak again after that. It left me with a lot of confused feelings."
"I never got to speak to her again either."
"I know. And I... when I saw someone who looked like her, I remembered all of the things I wanted to say to your mom. It was wrong to spend time with Kim when really, all I wanted was more time with your mom.”
From the rearview mirror, Buck could see that Christopher was looking anywhere but at Eddie. Still, he seemed like he was receptive, overall.
"Kim showed up at our house without an invitation, dressed like your mom. I didn't ask her to do that. I asked her to leave."
Chris didn't look satisfied by the explanation. He looked irritated, if anything.
"What about the walls?"
Eddie went silent for a few moments.
"I... had friends from the army. Some people I saved."
"Yeah, you got your award." Chris nodded, knowing this already.
"I found out that some of them died. I was angry and sad, and I reacted badly."
"They died in the war?"
"No, they died after. Once they were home."
"Oh," Chris said sadly. "I mentioned to abuelo what happened, and abuela said..." Christopher was reluctant to continue.
"You can tell me."
"She said I was lucky you didn't hurt me and that you were crazy."
Buck inhaled sharply and squeezed the steering wheel.
"Your dad would never hurt you."
"I never thought he would," Chris said quietly.
Eddie turned around to face forward and leaned his head back against the head rest. Buck could hear him inhaling at a steady pace, clearly doing his best to stay calm. Unnerved by the silence, Buck clicked the radio button and turned the volume down low. It was quiet enough to speak over.
"I don't want to stay here forever," Chris said at long last after a 10 minute break. They were only a couple of minutes from their destination.
Buck's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a wave of relief knowing that his fears were not going to come to fruition. Eddie wasn't going to move. Eddie wasn't going to leave him. Chris would eventually come back to LA. Buck had to hold on to the steering wheel to stop himself from reaching out to Eddie. He was staying. He wasn't leaving.
"How long are you staying here?"
"We both have five days off of work, but I will stay as long as you want me here."
"Maybe I could live with Buck when I come back to LA."
"We'll talk about it, Chris," Eddie said.
Buck didn't think it was a good idea, considering Chris was already falling into the pattern of running away from his problems, but anything was better than Christopher staying in Texas. They would work something out.
"I have a science project due next week," Chris said off-handedly. "Maybe we can leave before it's due..."
Buck allowed himself to laugh and Eddie exhaled, amused.
"Nice try. You're going to have to finish out the quarter, I think. I'll have to look over your school schedule with your abuelos."
Chris grunted but didn't protest, aware that his attempt had been a long shot.
They pulled up to the house and Buck stayed seated and let the car idle, not having any desire to see Eddie's parents anytime soon after what he learned about them earlier in the evening.
-
Eddie exited the car and moved to the back seat to help Chris even though he didn't need it, but it was an excuse to walk him to the door and spend more time with him. Chris yelled goodbye to Buck over his shoulder, and Buck replied with a short honk from the car.
"Chris?" Eddie stopped short just before the door. "I want you to know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you, and I'm going to make this up to you no matter what I have to do."
"Okay, dad."
Eddie paused momentarily trying to gauge if a hug would be accepted, not wanting to pressure Chris. Luckily Chris extended his arms and sighed somewhat dramatically, but Eddie was happy with any sign that they were going in the right direction.
"Are you mad at me?" Chris asked quietly.
"No, mijo, I'm not." Eddie hugged Chris a little tighter before releasing him and looking at him for reassurance.
"Mom left you, then I left you. She didn't love you, but... I do love you, dad."
Eddie was helpless against the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes.
"I know you do, Christopher. And I love you too, more than anything in the world." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the top of his head, hugging him again in the process.
"See you tomorrow," Chris said and pulled away. Eddie waited until he heard the door lock before he walked back to the car.
-
Once back at the hotel, they were quick to fall into their beds. The hotel had a double room available so they didn't have to share.
"He said see you tomorrow. He wants to see us again."
"He missed you. He knew we would take him to the fun place for dinner, and he trusted you. He knows you want him to be happy."
"I hope so. It went well, right?"
"Any sign you aren't moving to this place means it went well. So yes, it went great."
"Hearing him talk about my parents reminded me of how much I hated living near them. It's like they're out to destroy me. I can't let him stay there any longer, Buck. If that means him staying by you, or you staying at the house with him while I stay at the loft... I need to get him away from them."
Buck nodded solemnly. "I think you two need to stick together, but we'll figure it out."
Eddie turned onto his side so he was facing Buck's bed. Buck was lying on his stomach but his head was angled towards Eddie already. There were less than two feet between the beds, so it's not as if the distance was vast.
"Thank you for coming with me. I don’t think this would have happened without you."
"You can't move here," Buck said. "I..."
Eddie held his breath while he waited for whatever Buck was gearing up to say.
"...need you two."
Okay. Cool, cool. Need was nice. Need was great, an awesome compliment. Just what Eddie wanted to hear. He could handle that. He could reply to that.
"I love you, too."
Well.
That wasn't what he meant to say. He closed his eyes, feigning sleep.
"What?" Buck said. Eddie heard the sheets ruffle.
"What?" Eddie replied with a one-hundred percent fake drowsy tone.
"Eddie..." Buck let out a huff, and Eddie believed for a few seconds that he was getting away with it.
Until a pillow hit the side of his head.
"Hey!" He shot up, shocked by the assault.
Buck was already half-sitting up as well, grinning at Eddie stupidly. Eddie threw the pillow back at him lazily and Buck caught it. He laid down on his back.
"You're such a sap, old man." Buck squished the pillow and shoved it under his head when he laid back down, sideways and facing Eddie.
"We're the same age, Buck."
"I'm talking about souls here."
"Right, of course."
Eddie's heart was betraying his cool exterior. While he hadn't meant to say it, he did mean it. What was Buck thinking? That it was a joke? A friendly sentiment from his best friend?
What did Eddie want him to think?
He could let it go. He could play it off as a casual 'love you bro.' He could drop the subject and fall asleep.
Did he want to?
What did he want?
(Buck)
What was he afraid of?
(Buck)
They were hundreds of miles from home. If Buck wanted to, he could pack up and leave Eddie in the dust. What would Christopher think? Probably that his dad had messed up another important relationship in his life. Buck always said he would be there for Christopher, and more than that, he'd proven it time and time again. Would he still be there for him if Eddie fucked it all up?
"Christopher needs you," Eddie said.
"Christopher needs you," Buck countered.
"I mean it, Buck. If anything happens to–"
"Nothing's going to happen to you."
"Us. If anything happens to us."
Buck sighed. "What are you talking about, Eddie?"
Eddie lightly bit at his bottom lip, thinking. Debating. He was toeing The Line.
"Like if you hate me one day. Don't forget about Christopher."
There was a pause of silence before Buck spoke again.
"I would never."
He didn't specify, but Eddie knew he meant on both accounts.
So... if he were to believe him... (which he did)... And if he trusted him... (which he did)...
"I meant it, like, not what you thought."
Silence again. Eddie had a random thought about analog clocks and almost wished there was one so he could count the ticks and know how much time passed.
"Meant what?" Bucked sounded hesitant, reluctant even. It instantly made Eddie want to backtrack. "I remember, Eddie, don't worry. The will, that's what you're talking about. Right? I'll always be here for Christopher."
How the hell could they be so in-tune with one another on some things, and yet miss the mark on others?
"No, Jesus..." Eddie wished he hadn't thrown that extra pillow back at Buck because he could really use it to suffocate himself right about now.
He could do this. He could say it. He wanted to say it. So... he said it. Again.
"I love you."
-
Buck considered his hopeful optimism both a blessing and a curse. He liked uplifting people. It also made living in general a hell of a lot easier when he was seeing through a positive lens.
However, there were times when optimism was foolish. He didn't live in la-la-land. The real world was a cruel and harsh thing, and some people didn't get a happy ending. Some people get a little happiness here or there, and that would make it a good life.
Despite some delusions he'd fantasized about in the deep recesses of his mind, he knew better than to ever think his fantasies could come true. Eddie saying 'I love you' only made sense in the real world if he didn't mean it romantically. So, Buck replied how anyone would reply to a kind gesture from their completely platonic, straight best friend who was grateful to be reunited with his son.
"I know, Eddie. Love you too."
He was listening. Eddie said something about meaning something different than what Buck thought. Okay. Confusing. Whatever. Buck could flow, Buck could totally be cool about this. He knew better than to do anything different. Eddie told him months ago that his sexuality would change nothing between them. Loud and clear, message received; signed, sealed, and delivered.
He heard Eddie mumble something incoherent from the other bed. Of course Eddie was the one grumbling, as if Buck wasn't fighting every instinct in his body to cling and assume and be hopeful.
Again: his hopefulness was a blessing and curse. The curse was strong tonight.
"Go to sleep, Eddie." Buck closed his own eyes and nuzzled into the bed, willing himself to pass the fuck out as quickly as possible so his brain wouldn't go into overdrive.
"You're an idiot." It was the only warning he had before a pillow assaulted his face. "Will you say something?"
"What the hell, Eddie!" Buck tried not to sound as agitated as he was, but c'mon?! Did Eddie have no idea how difficult this was for him to hear? Having a straight, hot, blind, oblivious best friend was a special form of Hell. "Stop."
"Oh, so you're allowed to tell me over and over that you need me, but I can't tell you that I love you?"
"Eddie..." Buck groaned. Was he serious?
"I love you and want to, like, jump into that bed with you."
Okay. What?
Buck didn't sit up. Instead, he froze and was very happy that he had a blanket to hide under. There weren't many ways to interpret what Eddie just said.
"Stop fucking around."
"Oh my God."
And then, well, Eddie was climbing onto his bed. Buck jolted away as if he were electrocuted.
"What are you doing?!"
"Apparently I have to demonstrate," Eddie said sarcastically.
"Demonst-! Eddie, get out of my bed!"
"Do you want me out of the bed?" Eddie challenged.
Buck had recoiled to the far side of the mattress, and was sitting up and holding the blanket up to his neck as if he was naked underneath and trying to hide. (He was fully clothed, thank you very much.) Eddie was perched on top of the sheet with one knee up on the bed. He looked ready to crawl over to him.
What the fuck was going on.
"Am I dreaming?" Buck asked aloud, then instantly regretted it when Eddie started laughing at him.
"Is this a common occurrence in your dreams, too?"
Too?! What did THAT mean?
"You still haven't told me if you want me to get out of the bed," Eddie said, amused.
Then he had the audacity to crawl forward, closer, and... and... took Buck's hand into his.
"This isn't real." He tried to pull his hand away, but Eddie clamped down and refused to let go.
"Buck."
For some reason he listened and stopped protesting.
"Can we make out or something now?"
Now it was Buck's turn to laugh in sheer disbelief.
"I don't really know what I'm doing here, but I don't want to do it without you. That goes for, like, anything, actually. So yeah. Maybe we can just see if we like kissing each other?"
And.
Fuck it.
Buck tackled him.
Eddie’s back hit the mattress. Buck swung his leg over his hips to straddle him, cupped his face in his hands, and kissed him.
He didn't hold back. He sucked on Eddie's lower lip, used his teeth to nibble, and tasted every part of him that he could. Eddie’s hands were on his waist, holding tight. Hips moved. Buck wasn't sure who started it but they were grinding against one another wantonly.
If this was a fever dream he was content to die in it.
Eddie licked him. Eddie was leaving a trail of saliva down his jaw, onto his neck, and was sucking hard on his skin.
He caressed Eddie's chest, digging his fingers into his pecks and twisting his nipples gently, giving attention to all of him. Their pelvises kept gyrating, both of them with rock hard cocks brushing against one another shamelessly. He would come, he already knew it was a sure thing. Eddie was going to make him come in his boxers like a teenager, and he'd never been so happy about anything in his life.
They kissed more, deeper, rougher, softer, any way they wanted. Testing it out, finding their pleasure with the other. When Buck threaded his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugged, the other man moaned. His hips jerked harder, faster, upward into Buck's body at an inconsistent rate. He moaned again, deep, and Buck knew before it happened that Eddie was about to orgasm.
He pulled his face away and selfishly watched Eddie throw his head back and gasp, eyes squeezed shut, as his body jerked forward and he came. Buck pushed Eddie down and resumed kissing, staying connected to Eddie through his own orgasm. He moaned into Eddie's mouth, sharing his pleasure with a kiss.
They both were short on breath, clinging tightly to the other in some way. In sync, as always, with the same level of relief.
"Damn." Eddie fell back against the mattress, muscles loose. Buck rolled off of him and laid down on his back, doing the same.
"Did you like it?"
Eddie snorted and lazily used the back of his hand to hit Buck's stomach. He let his arm rest there.
"Yes. Do you get it now?"
"Yeah, I think I got it."
Two weeks later, Eddie was the one shoving Buck into the wall.
"Longest week of my life," Buck said while Eddie licked his neck. Last time he left a mark, so this time Buck nudged his face away before he could brand him again. Their work shirts did nothing to hide hickeys.
"I told you I wouldn't change my mind."
Buck had expressed his worry that the excitement of reuniting his family had caused temporary brain damage and that Eddie would go back to being just friends once they were all in LA. Eddie tried to explain that his thoughts and feelings were present long before their trip to El Paso, but Buck was reluctant to believe him. He was stubborn like that. It was delicious vindication, holding onto Buck and proving him wrong.
Eddie and Christopher were officially back in LA, and Chris had reluctantly agreed to stay at the house with Eddie. Luckily, Buck was going to be a semi-permanent fixture (if Eddie had anything to say about it), so hopefully their home would be less tense. Buck was good for stress relief, as Eddie was discovering in the present…
Christopher was taking (according to him) much-needed space from Eddie, staying overnight at his friend's house. In return Eddie would be hosting the next sleepover the following week - but that was a problem for future-him to schedule. For now, he was focused on Buck.
Buck, who made sure Eddie didn't make the horrible mistake of moving back to his hometown.
Buck, who believed in him and trusted him to fight for them.
Buck, who he missed an unhealthy amount after only seven days apart; whose hands he'd been having wet dreams about; whose presence made him feel at home.
“This is crazy.” Buck mumbled against his lips. Eddie had to smile.
“It's really not, though.” He pulled away and memorized Buck's face, eyes scanning every inch of him. He already knew it by heart, but what was another look? He'd be happy to look at Buck every day for the rest of his life. He intended to; wanted to.
“Just how long have you been planning this?” Buck grinned and leaned forward, kissing him.
“The forever part? Since we met. The kissing stuff is new though.”
It was Buck's turn to stare. His expression was the picture of ‘fond.’
“I love you.” He didn't really have to say it for Eddie to know, but hearing him say it first did make Eddie's chest feel lighter.
“I need you,” Eddie said with a smile and Buck laughed. He nodded into their kiss.
“Same difference.”