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Eddie is halfway to the car before he realizes he’s forgotten his wallet, turning on his heel to go back and fetch it. He isn’t exactly trying to be quiet as he lets himself back into the house, scanning the living room until he spots his wallet on the coffee table, and at first he thinks Buck has heard him, is speaking to him from the kitchen, an explanation on the tip of his tongue before he hears Maddie’s voice, tinny over speakerphone.
‘How’s it going?’
There’s a pause that feels weighted and when Buck finally speaks, there’s a false cheer to it that Eddie really doesn’t like, ‘great! I love having them home.’
They’ve been back a few weeks, Eddie and Chris, nearly a month of sharing the old house with Buck. Eddie had thought it was going well. They’ve been slotting in around each other like it’s never been any different but Buck had given up his loft on the understanding that Eddie’s move to El Paso was permanent. He didn’t sign up for sharing, with Eddie or Chris, and perhaps he feels it’s time for him to find his own place, as much as it would break Eddie’s heart to see him leave.
‘Buck ,’ says Maddie and she sounds weary. Have they had this conversation before? Is Buck really that sick of them already?
Buck sighs, ‘I know I can’t do it forever. Eddie’s been so good about letting me stay. I-I just. I like to be close, y’know. I missed him. I like to know he’s right there, that both of them are here.’
Buck’s voice cracks as he finishes speaking and Eddie is already moving towards the kitchen, treading softly. He doesn’t want to interrupt and he knows he shouldn’t be listening but if Buck is upset Eddie’s first move is always to reassure, to comfort, to make sure he knows he doesn’t have to worry about his place in their family, wherever they’re living.
‘Have you told him how you feel?’ says Maddie and that’s definitely a question she’s asked before.
‘He doesn’t feel the same,’ says Buck, quiet enough that Eddie can barely hear him, resigned and miserable.
Eddie’s heart is beating so fast as he steps another pace closer, avoiding the floorboard in the dining room that creaks. He’s holding his breath. Feel the same about what?
‘How do you know?’
Buck doesn’t reply, a suspended, empty silence that Eddie longs to fill, a sudden, overwhelming need to say tell me, go on, ask me. The fear from moments before, that Buck was tired of their living arrangement, dissipates, replaced with a jittery anxiety, guilt at overhearing something he shouldn’t and because he knows with startling clarity what Maddie means, there can’t be any explanation other than the obvious.
‘You don’t need to torture yourself, Buck. I know it’s difficult because he’s your best friend and it’s okay if you’re not quite ready to tell him but I’m worried what it’ll do to you if you keep holding on to this.’
‘I think it’d b–be torture wherever I was,’ Buck admits, ‘if I wasn’t here I’d miss him and I can’t risk it, what we have. I only just got him back, Maddie, I can’t lose him again.’
‘You love him,’ Maddie says, such a simple, efficient truth, ‘and he loves you–.’
Buck scoffs and it spikes, sharp and painful, through Eddie’s gut. Buck has to know, right? He thought they’d been through this, before Eddie left, and he knows Buck gets insecure, has abandonment issues on abandonment issues but whatever the nature of Eddie’s feelings, one thing has always been certain; how much Buck matters to him.
'Maybe not in the same way,’ Maddie continues, ‘but he does love you. I know neither of you would let this ruin what you have and he wouldn’t want you to be suffering like this.’
‘I know. I just can’t see a way where this doesn’t change everything,’ Buck says at last.
When Buck came out Eddie told him nothing would change but in retrospect that might have been a lie. To himself as much as to Buck.
‘That could be a good thing,’ says Maddie softly.
Eddie’s already heard too much and Maddie’s gentle insistence that he might reciprocate Buck’s feelings is the thing that finally gets him moving, heading backwards towards the living room, opening and closing the front door as quietly as he can manage. He’s never been more glad that his stupid prius is near silent as he drives away, barely focused on the road, thoughts endlessly returning to Buck and the desperate sadness in his voice.
It’s not new, having Buck on his mind. So often in El Paso, Buck was his first thought; when things were going well with Chris and badly with his parents, it was Buck he turned to, a steady, reassuring presence in spite of the distance. For seven years Buck has been there, for Eddie, for Chris, at work and at home. Some of the worst weeks of Eddie’s life have been when they’ve been apart, victims of Eddie self sacrificing or Buck’s stubbornness. He never wants to do that again. He never wants to lose what they have and maybe he doesn’t have to, maybe he can have more , actually, if he asks for it.
Eddie is not that close with Maddie, they rarely spend any time together one on one, their interactions usually limited to organising, dinners, birthdays, babysitting, locating Buck or Chim and the occasional exchange in the dispatch group chat he’s still part of. They don’t know each other that well and yet she’s seen something in him he wasn’t even aware of. Perhaps it just comes from a deep understanding of Buck, something they both share, and she can see the way Eddie loves him, knowing it's different from how everyone else loves him. Now that he thinks about it, Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if it was written all over his face. He loves Buck. He’s in love with him.
*
He’s late to coffee with Linda and May and they both regard him with twin looks of amusement as he sits down, distracted and flustered.
There’s no point even trying to hide his blush when the first question out of May’s mouth is, ‘so, how’s Buck?’
Eddie smiles, a big cheesy grin taking over his face, almost involuntary, ‘he’s good. Great.’
‘You’re getting on okay? Living together?’ asks Linda and she doesn’t know Buck beyond their roles as dispatcher and firefighter but she’s looking at Eddie knowingly and all he can be is honest.
‘I never want him to leave.’
*
Eddie comes into the house as loudly as possible, this time, slamming the door and chucking his keys firmly on the coffee table, not willing to risk overhearing any more life-altering revelations.
Buck pokes his head round the kitchen door and beams at him as he comes through the dining room, a mirror of earlier but not treading so carefully.
‘Dinner’s nearly ready. How were May and Linda?’
Eddie steps into the kitchen, surfaces cluttered with ingredients for whatever Buck is cooking. It’s warm and smells familiar, rich and spiced.
‘They were good. It was nice to see May after so long.’
Chris, miraculously sat at the table instead of in his room, looks up from his homework and smiles, ‘hey, Dad. Buck’s making the barbacoa recipe. I’ll let you know who's is better.’
‘Hmm. I feel like I’m being set up,’ says Eddie, coming further into the kitchen, as Buck holds out a beer for him to take.
There’s a moment, their fingers touching over the cool, wet glass of the bottle, Buck’s blue eyes soft as he regards Eddie, where every anxiety evaporates and Eddie is sure this is where he wants to be forever. He blinks and it settles, no longer a surprise, just the easy truth.
‘Don’t worry, Eddie. Chris is an impartial judge. Isn’t that right, Chris?’
‘Yeah. I would never let my biases cloud my judgement,’ Chris intones seriously.
‘Well, I am your father and I’m also not above bribery so keep that in mind,’ says Eddie, pointing his beer at Chris before taking a sip, leaning against the counter, gravitating as close to Buck as he can get.
‘Sure,’ says Chris, shrugging nonchalantly, ‘and Buck’s a better cook.’
‘Hey!’
Buck is laughing, nudging Eddie with his shoulder and it’s so simple, in the kitchen with Buck and with Chris, teasing and chatting about their days. They eat and Eddie has to concede there is something about Buck’s cooking that does make it better. They’re pretty evenly matched at this point but Eddie can admit to his own biases. Maybe it’s love. It’s probably love.
After dinner there’s the usual lighthearted argument over what to watch on TV and Chris slopes off to his room after a single episode of MasterChef. Eddie is hyper aware of Buck beside him. He’s been trying to focus on the TV but his gaze keeps drifting to where Buck is leaning against the arm of the couch, sipping his beer and heckling the contestants.
They watch two more episodes that Eddie barely takes in before Buck is slapping his hands on his thighs, standing, ‘I’m just gonna finish cleaning up.’
‘I’ll do it,’ says Eddie, following, ‘you cooked.’
‘The slow cooker did all the work,’ says Buck as he starts to load the dishwasher, moving around the kitchen like he belongs, at home here long before he actually moved in.
Eddie settles against the counter and lets himself look. Buck loves him and he– he loves Buck. That revelation is nothing new, Maddie was right about that, but now Eddie is able to see how beautiful Buck is, the broad span of his back, shoulder blades shifting under his thin t-shirt, the strength of his arms, the softness of his belly. He leans past Eddie to reach for a couple dirty glasses and Eddie’s eyes trace the handsome slope of his nose, his birthmark, cheeks rosy pink, textured with acne scars and two-day old stubble. His hair is fluffy, he didn’t bother with any product today, curling across his forehead and lit up with early evening sunshine and he smiles at Eddie with his whole face, boyish and pleased.
‘What?’
‘What?’ Eddie repeats right back at him.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
Buck’s eyes dip, ducking his head, and it’s shocking how much Eddie wants to touch him with intent. Every night since he came back from El Paso, since they started sharing the bed, he’s woken up to Buck wrapped around him, clinging like he’s afraid Eddie will leave again and it’s clear now how much Eddie needed that too. The reassurance of Buck’s body next to his, anchoring. He wants to put his hands on Buck on purpose, he wants to kiss him, he wants to fuck him. If Buck will let him, he wants to spend the rest of his life making Buck feel good, he’ll spend the rest of his life on his knees if Buck agrees.
Eddie hates that Buck has been afraid of this, that it’s been hurting him, because it’s so obvious. The last few weeks, the months of distance before that, every step they’ve taken together since the bomb in the back of that ambulance has led to here, dinner in their kitchen, with their kid. It’s ease and comfort and certainty for Eddie now he can look at it and see if for all that it is. He wants to gift that to Buck so they can step forward together.
‘I love you.’
Eddie has never found it easier to say those words but Buck rears back slightly, startled like he’s taken a hit.
‘I–I love you too, man,’ he says, almost swallowing the qualifier but he does say it, man, arms length and untrue.
Eddie steps a pace closer and takes Buck’s hand, the rough calluses of his palms, the strong ridge of his knuckles, as he tugs him forward. Buck stumbles a little but Eddie has him.
‘No. I love you.’
Buck meets Eddie’s eyes, breathes out like relief, and Eddie knows he’s been understood.
‘Oh. Yeah, I love you too.’
Buck is so close he’s out of focus, pink and golden and glittering. Eddie tries to keep him in sight right up until their lips touch, soft at first, then deeper as Eddie’s eyes dip closed and it’s just the warmth and strength of Buck against him. He’s not sure who escalates, one kiss slipping into another, this one wet, Buck’s tongue against his lips, the hard press of his teeth as his hand comes up to cup Eddie’s jaw, pulling him in. Eddie grips Buck’s waist, pressing a thigh between his legs and somebody moans, maybe it’s both of them, laughing, as they part. Buck rests their foreheads together, the delicate touch of his nose against Eddie’s cheek, a pause and then they’re kissing again, endlessly.
The light in the kitchen has changed by the time they stop. Eddie feels lightheaded and Buck can’t stop grinning.
‘Why?’ says Buck, low and secret, ‘why now?’
Eddie smiles, hands smoothing up Buck’s spine as he draws them into an embrace, swaying slightly in their kitchen, ‘sorry, I had insider intel.’
Buck leans back to look at him, one eyebrow raised, puzzled.
‘I overheard you and Maddie this morning.’
‘Oh. That’s okay, I wanted to tell you,’ Buck relaxes back into Eddie’s hold, ‘I want to tell you everything, really.’
For the rest of their lives, Eddie hopes that it will be true, knows that he'll work to make it happen.
‘I want to hear it.’