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Buck’s happy ending starts when Hen calls him one afternoon in June.
It’s out of the ordinary for them to talk on the phone. They see each other on the job practically every day. And when Hen does call, she usually does in the quiet moments when the kids are guaranteed to be asleep. But no, today she rings around five, so dinner’s still in the oven, and Buck’s still patting from wrangling a fussy Theo into partaking in a non-destructive activity.
Theo is drawing something on the coffee table. It kind of looks like a fat, fat racoon, but Buck assumes that’s because he’s four, and obese racoons are not actually the little guy’s intended muse.
“Hey, Buck,” Hen says. “I’m just calling to check if you’re coming to Denny’s birthday party.”
“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Buck asks.
“A couple of day ago you told me you weren’t sure if you were free.”
“Yeah, well, that was before Mandy ghosted me.”
Hen sucks in her teeth. “At least it wasn’t serious.”
Which, well, it wasn’t, but Buck had this little daydream, bordering on expectation, that there could be something there. Because both times Buck and Mandy met up, Mandy had been great. She was really nice and understanding about everything. Even about Buck being indecisive when he’s given more than three options in anything in life, or when he has to choose from a big menu at a restaurant, unlike Tommy, who was very judgmental about Buck’s prominent lack of resolve.
And she also got Buck when it came to being a foster parent, and what that could entail. Got Buck when Buck opened up about his traumatic experiences in the dating scene. Got him when he told her about his first date with piece of shit Tommy Kinard. And, well, the sex was great too.
Buck groans. “Maybe I should just give up on dating. After Tommy, I thought maybe a woman would be nice. We could commiserate or something.”
The thing is, when Buck came out as bisexual, he thought that meant his dating pool had doubled, which was exciting, something twenty-something-year-old Buck, at the height of his hypersexuality and drowning in sexual trauma, would’ve creamed his pants over. But turns out a lot of women don’t like being with men that have been with men, sexually or romantically. And there’s gay men that aren’t very accepting of bisexuality either. So, his pool hasn’t necessarily gotten bigger, but dating prospects seem less eager for non-sexual intimacy, which was a thing he already kind of struggled with when he was straight.
Huh, now that he thinks about it, maybe this is more of a Buck-being-unlovable thing than a societal problem.
“I’m sorry, Buck,” Hen says.
It is what it is, he’d say to her if he was more mature. Because it isn’t like it’s a big deal, now that the fantasy of shit-talking men with his super-hot new girlfriend isn’t as appealing. Maybe upgrading to a prettier boyfriend, one Tommy could seethe over, would be better.
And this line of thought is what put things in motion, Buck will think in the future, thanking whatever butterfly fluttered its wings the right way, the string of happenstances that will make him bump into Eddie.
“I-I-I just…” Buck trails off. Then: “I need a boyfriend. A nice one. Someone that makes Tommy feel worth it.”
If Hen were a little messier, a little blunter, she would say something like Nothing would ever make Tommy feel worth it. Because Tommy’s a condescending asshole who makes Buck feel lower than dirt, made his chest burn, and his stomach hurt for a year straight. And then some, because Buck’s pathetic and can’t survive without constant external validation.
“Relationships are always worth it” Hen says instead, because she’s trying to be nice and sisterly or something. Buck rolls his eyes as she adds, “You learn about yourself and your own boundaries, that’s what’s important.”
So I should call him? Buck wants to ask just to push her a little bit, make her scramble. Although, honestly, the only reason he hasn’t rung Tommy’s line is because Theo, after the death of his parents, needed a place to stay, and Tommy isn’t very fond of kids.
What Buck fortunately says is “But what about a boyfriend? A nice boyfriend that makes me happy, and-and takes Theo out for ice cream.”
“You can take Theo out for ice cream yourself.”
“I already do that. But isn’t it nice to have someone else? Imagine your life without Karen; that’s my life right now.”
“You got me there,” Hen says because Buck’s right, Karen’s awesome. Then sighs, “Look, Buck, I know relationships seem like the end-all-be-all, but you need to learn how to be alone.”
Buck huffs in disagreement. He doesn’t know why Maddie and Hen think he needs to be lonely forever. He’d been plenty lonely growing up in the Buckley house, being ignored like a slightly bothersome ghost for a decade. And on the road, with only the radio for company, or maladapted strangers with agendas Buck couldn’t quite figure out. Did they want to hurt him? Did they want to help? Mostly the former, if they cared.
“I just want a positive boyfriend experience, like a good one that’s not just gay, but also happy.”
“So gay?”
Buck laughs. “Yeah. Gay gay. Homo and happy.”
“Well…I hope homo and happy happens to you,” Hen says. Someone talks to her on the other end of the line, and she tells Buck, “Listen, I have to go. But you’re coming tomorrow.”
“Yes. Theo and I will be there,” Buck answers. Glass shatters in Buck’s house, the sound coming from the living room. Buck hangs his head in defeat, saying, “Hen.”
Hen laughs. “Go.”
Buck ends the call while muttering, “Bye, bye, bye, bye,” and runs to find a broken window, a distraught Theo looking for his pet rock.
“Where’s Marley?” Theo asks, looking at the ground.
“You just threw him out the window, buddy.”
With a little luck, they find the lime-sized rock, and Theo gets to bring it to Denny’s birthday party, cradling it in his hands the whole drive over, and then, reluctantly, slipping it in Buck’s duffle.
“Bye, bye, Marley,” he says.
Hen’s house looks to be bustling with activity, and a couple of people are, like Buck and Theo, in the driveway, some already waiting by the front door.
Buck kneels on the gravel. “Okay, buddy, we’re going to use our gentle hands and inside voices, okay? No throwing things, because Hen will get sad. And we don’t want Hen to be sad, do we?”
Theo shakes his head.
“Okay. Let’s go.” They high-five.
Theo is actually pretty subdued when they’re greeted at the entrance, and they say hello to a couple of people without a hitch.
Karen gives Theo a fist-bump. “Hi, Spiderman.”
“Hi.”
“He is looking taller,” Hen says, and Karen turns to give her a kiss.
Buck nods. “Yeah, most of his long shirt are getting too small for him.”
“Want us to give you some of our old stuff?” Hen asks.
“Yes, please,” Buck says.
Karen says. “Buck, can you help me in the kitchen real quick? I’ll tell Chim to keep an eye on Theo.”
Buck strokes Theo’s back. “Yeah, sure.”
Theo joins Chim and Jee on the couch, and they all seem to be talking calmly. Clearly, this is a sign that a storm is coming, the silence of before and all that, but Buck is so busy helping Karen out with the kids and the drinks and the cake that he doesn’t think about it. He’s just glad he doesn’t need to do more than look at Theo every couple of minutes.
Then, Theo says, “Are you a boyfriend?”
And the question is loud, a yell that makes Buck’s stomach drop. Because Buck’s not stupid. His phone call with Hen was yesterday, and Theo had been a room away.
Buck glances over and oh my God, oh God no, Theo is staring up at a gorgeous, gorgeous man, with big, broad shoulders and tan skin and huge biceps and a strong nose and—
The attractive man points at himself. “Are you asking me?”
Unfortunately, a defeated part of Buck thinks, his feet frozen in place.
Theo’s big mouth opens again, and adrenaline rushes straight in Buck’s veins, something wild and anxious cracking open inside his chest. He rushes to Theo’s side, but it’s too late.
“Are you a boyfriend? Buck needs a boyfriend for ice cream.”
Buck gasps. “Sorry. Theo is just…Theo, let’s go.” He tries to lead Theo away from the pretty man, but Theo stays put.
“No, it’s okay,” the man says, crouching a little. “Nice to meet you, bud. I like your medal.”
Fuck, that’s so sweet. And he’s hotter up close, all doe-eyed and handsome. A hair strand falls over his forehead like it wants Buck to tug it back. Buck has the urge to scream.
“He likes my medal,” Theo tries to whisper to Buck, but it’s loud enough for anyone to hear. It’s his new participation medal from a drawing contest at school—the purple firetruck looks great in Buck’s fridge
“Of course he does,” Buck says, every bad feeling flowing out of him the moment he looks back at his little buddy.
“Dad,” someone calls over, voice cracking in the middle.
Hot Man looks over his shoulder, face a cute shade of red. “My son’s calling me. Nice to meet you…”
“Buck,” he says, taking the guy’s outstretched hand while trying not to gush at the large width of his palm, the firmness of the shake.
“Buck. Uh…” The man looks a Theo. “Bye, Theo,” he says before heading out the yard.
Theo squeals, running after Hot Man while screaming, “Bye.”
Buck sputters something, a bunch of no’s and stop’s, but gives up at constructing a coherent sentence halfway through. Theo’s already followed the man to the backyard anyway. And Buck’s now talking to empty air.
“Can you keep an eye on Theo?” he asks Maddie the moment she appears, carrying a handful of plastic cups. And then, like a normal human being, he goes to freak out in Hen’s downstairs bathroom. Just a little.
Hot Man is not there when Buck dares to show his face again, like he was a hallucination born out of Buck’s desperation. And oh, well. Hopefully Buck will never see him again, or he’ll make even more of a fool of himself, bury the rest of his dignity down where his self-esteem lies. And Theo, unbothered by Hot Man’s disappearance, spends the rest of the party jumping up on chairs and clinging to a sweet kid named Chris, who waves Buck off every time he apologizes for their existence.
“It’s fine,” Chris says, like he’s not a teenager being forced to babysit a four-year old. “Theo’s cool.”
And that makes Buck want to cry a little bit. Most strangers are kind of harsh about Theo being so loud, so hyper. Like he’s sullying the moment just by being there. When he’s just a kid. The best kid. So sweet and so cute Buck could eat him.
Buck’s parents thought he was too loud when he was little too, and Buck’s scared they’ll say to Theo the same things they did to him if they ever meet him. Thankfully, Mom and Dad didn’t care enough about Buck to visit him after he signed the foster papers, and taking care of a grieving toddler with a surplus of energy is time consuming enough that Buck hasn’t thought much about them either.
Denny opens his presents and they all eat the cake from that store Hen likes so much, the one that made that hilarious bust of Chimney to welcome him back to the firehouse after he recovered from the rebar incident. This one’s chocolate with a little firetruck on top, and Theo spends the rest of the evening running around screaming, “Wee woo wee woo,” like he’s the 118-firehouse station alarm, that blares and blares a couple of weeks later.
“Probie jinxed us,” Buck grumbles.
“Have some compassion,” Ravi says, getting in the engine. “We used to be that probie.”
“You used to be that probie,” Buck says. “Respect your elders.”
“Buck,” Hen says, raising her eyebrows, because Buck might’ve jinxed the 118 once too.
Buck huffs. “Why isn’t the q-word curse taught at the academy? It would save us so much trouble.”
Neither Ravi nor Hen respond; they just give him a look.
The call is a big pileup this time, a multiple alarm incident with around five fatalities. And the team is quickly put to work, Hen, Chimney, and their other paramedic trying to resuscitate an unresponsive woman, Ravi and Buck rescuing a kid stuck in the backseat of Prius.
Buck is tending to a victim, a middle-aged woman who is mostly in shock, when he sees him. It’s Hot Man from Denny’s party, already staring at him before their gazes even connected. Crap, he remembers. That’s embarrassing.
He’s right outside an ambulance, wearing a station uniform, his dark eyes pinning Buck into place. Buck swallows with a click, feeling a little wobbly.
“Diaz!” someone yells from inside the ambulance, and Hot Man, who appears to be that Diaz, gets on the rear end of the vehicle, quickly closing the doors.
As the ambulance pulls out the street, Buck has half a mind to flip the bird at it. Because these past few weeks had given Buck time to think, and he’s pissed at Hot Man Diaz now, kind of hates him a little. A lot. Because can you imagine the amount of people he’s tortured throughout the years? The way he has decimated their self-esteem by being the sexiest guy alive? Regular people cannot compare. They can only be so hot, as hot as Buck is, and that kind of realization is soul-crushing.
“Firefighter Buckley?” the woman by his side says. “I think I hear someone screaming for help.”
“Help!” someone screams, and Buck takes off in that direction.
He saves a guy stuck in his mangled truck, manning the Jaws of Life in the process. They get back to the firehouse a couple of hours after their shift, but Buck feels pretty good about himself, energized by the satisfaction of a job well done today. He saved a couple of people, and that’s what matters.
Before heading to the changing rooms and heading home, he takes out his phone to message Theo’s babysitter, a nice, accoladed woman named Britney, when he sees Hen has sent him a text with the name Eddie and a phone number.
“What’s this?” he asks her.
Hen shrugs. “Eddie told me to send you his number.”
“Who’s Eddie?”
“Eddie Diaz from station 143. I thought you knew him.”
Buck doesn’t answer Hen, and he also doesn’t call or text Eddie Diaz because that would be weird. And it’s not because every time he’s thought about it he’s chickened out, promise. Like, who even knows? Maybe Hen’s guy is not Hot Man Diaz. It’s not like Diaz is a super unique and uncommon last name. Maybe Hen’s Diaz is just Average Diaz, and the reason Buck’s guy was at Denny’s party was because he’s a ghost haunting the firefighters of LA. Or one of those magical elves that likes to bring children joy, like a leprechaun. Or a poor concussed man who wandered into an open house. Or a robber trying to stake out the place, to see what things he could take if he tried to burglar the Wilson’s.
“What?” Maddie asks, frowning. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he rob a house on a firefighter salary?”
“Forty percent of firefighter in Los Angeles are inmates, actually,” Buck says, finishing his coffee.
“Yeah, and they’re in jail making two dollars an hour, not going to children’s birthday parties.”
“They could be.”
“They’re in jail, Buck.”
“Well…maybe he’s a klepto. Or a gambling addict that owes a lot of money.”
“Eddie’s not—” Maddie cuts herself off, sighing. She seems to ready herself to say something, but Theo and Jee come round the kitchen.
“For you,” Theo says, handing Buck a sparkly tiara. He has glitter in his nose.
“For me?”
Jee giggles. “You have to put it on.”
They’re clapping before Buck lays it on his head. Maddie’s cell pings, and she looks at it with a huff.
“What?” Buck asks her.
“I miss wine night. Every time I see the groupchat I just wanna…” She clenches her fingers, and, weirdly, she stills. “You should go to wine night. Then I could live vicariously through you.”
Buck eyes her, suspicious. “Or I could just babysit your kids.”
“Not a kid thing. A work thing. Promotions come with downsides.”
Theo taps his thigh, saying, “Buck.”
“You want up?” Buck asks.
Theo nods and Jee pushes him, Theo pushes back.
“Wow, okay,” Maddie says. “No pushing.”
She picks Jee up, telling her to say sorry. Jee shakes her head, hiding in her hair.
“You should go to wine night,” Maddie hammers in again. “It’s fun.”
“I though it was exclusively for ‘kickass moms’,” Buck quotes Hen.
“There’s kickass dads too. The only reason Chim can’t go is because he likes to hog the wine.”
There are words on the edge of Buck’s lips, something about not being a dad, but they die out as soon as Theo makes grabby motion at him.
Buck picks Theo up with an exaggerated groan. “I’ll think about it,” he says.
Maddie grins, knowing she’s won. “I’ll text you the details.”
And that she does. She also bullies Chim into babysitting Theo when Buck tells her Britney isn’t free, so Buck really has no choice but to go.
“Buck!” Hen exclaims as she opens her front door. “We’re just getting started. Come inside.”
Athena is right behind her. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she says, taking a sip of her wine glass.
Buck shuffles his feet, awkward. Talking to Athena is not how it used to be before Bobby’s death, and maybe it never will be again.
“Maddie made me,” he says.
Athena hums, hiding her mouth behind her drink. “Well, get comfy ‘cause you’re staying here until sundown. No one’s ever left early, and you won’t be the first.”
She pats him in the back and Buck gives her a small smile, swallowing down all the things he wants to say to her, none of them fun or lighthearted. At least she’s trying; Buck should too.
Hen leads him to the living room, where Buck sees the familiar very gorgeous shape of Hot Man, and turns around, ready to bolt.
Hen blocks his exit. “What are you doing?”
And what does it look like Buck’s doing? He’s running, of course.
“Uh. I wanna leave.”
“What? No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“No,” Hen says again, like he’s a misbehaving dog.
Buck gestures at Hot Man. “Who’s that?” he asks instead of saying something harsh like Get him out of here.
“Eddie Diaz, from station 143,” Hen says, like she didn’t give him Eddie’s number a month ago. “His son Chris is Denny’s best friend from elementary school.”
“Right. But what is he doing here?”
“Well, it’s wine night,” Hen says with a glint in her eye. “Eddie’s been coming to wine night since before Mara was born. We go way back.”
“And you didn’t consider telling me?”
“Tell you wh—?”
Eddie is right there, suddenly, approaching them.
“Hey,” he says, giving Buck a handshake with the bear paws he likes to call hands. “Buck, right?”
“And you’re Eddie.”
“Yeah. That’s my name.”
Hen pipes up, “He’s Maddie’s brother.”
“Oh. How’s baby Nash?”
“He’s…doing great…being round.” Buck makes an oval-shaped circle with his fingers.
Eddie gets a cute little divot between his brows. “Huh, He really is kinda…” he trails off, making a circle as well.
“Buck.” Karen says, walking into the living room. “You want Rosé?”
Buck scratches behind his ear, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. “Sure, uh, but you got any red?”
“Yeah, it’s in the cupboard.” Karen gestures with her chin to the kitchen. “C’mon,” she says.
Karen opens a bottle for him, so it makes sense in the moment to drink as much as he can to not waste it. And as always, Athena was right when she said he’d here for a while, because he only grows aware of the passage of time when it’s late enough for Theo to already be in bed.
He texts Chimney, apologizing, but it seems as if Chimney was expecting this to happen, so he gets a short message waving him off, and another reading: Have fun ;))))
Buck groans, chucking his phone on the carpet. The couch feels so comfy right now.
“Buck,” Eddie says.
“What?”
“Your name’s kinda silly. Buck.” Eddie elongates the vowel and overpronounces the k.
“Issa nickname,” Buck slurs.
“My name’s also a nickname,” Eddie slurs.
“Your names Eduardo?”
Eddie snorts. “No.”
Buck stares at, appreciates, the ceiling, how it moves a little, how it’s fuzzy around the edges. His mouth feels very dry. And that’s okay. He doesn’t want to stand up.
“Do you believe in angels?” Eddie asks.
Buck pursed his lips, letting a pensive hum. “What type of angels?”
“Baby angels. The ones in”—Eddie struggles to find a word—"diapers.”
Buck glances at him, lolling his head to the side. “You mean cherubs?” he asks.
“Yeah. Cherub,” Eddie says, sliding a fat finger down Bucks nose. He giggles as Buck scrunches his face in confusion.
“I mean, I dunno,” Buck crosses his eyes to look at the finger. “If ghosts exist, anything’s possible.”
“Ghost don’t exist.”
“Then how do you explain a ghost calling 9-1-1?”
“Ghost don’t call 9-1-1.”
“They do. It was a-a hitchhiker ghost, and he…saved a guy that was stupid…and hurt.”
Eddie pats Bucks face. “Why ‘idn’cha call?” he slurs.
“9-1-1?”
“Me”, Eddie says, bleary eyes on Buck looking kind, warm. “Call me,” he says.
Buck opens his mouth, closes it, mumbles, “Okay.” He licks his lips. “Call you.”
So, after that, Buck grows confident enough to send Eddie a message. A simple hello that shouldn’t have taken as much courage as it did, but it’s worth it for how quickly they hit it off, texting every day, all the time, at odd hours in the morning. And they start to hang out in person too. They hang out in bars and play vey shitty games of pool, and Eddie talks about his son with stars in his eyes, a kid named Chris, who Buck would only realize is the same teen that was sweet with Theo at Denny’s party when they meet again.
Chris is a social butterfly, quick-witted and funny enough to toe the line between making a clever joke and making fun of someone. He’s a little moody like anybody at sixteen and rolls his eyes at his dad at least twenty times per day, but it’s clear that there’s love there, in the way Chris leans on his dad, in the way Eddie’s voice softens when he talks to him.
“You’re so bad at this,” Chris says to Eddie as they play Minecraft. It’s in survival mode, so they’re trying to shelter themselves for the night.
Theo’s watching the screen, like Buck should also be doing. But Eddie is way more interesting, the way he bites his bottom lip in focus—there’s a scar there, only visible when you stare for a little too long.
Eddie pouts. “I’m just digging.”
“Use a pickaxe. You’re wasting our shovels.”
“In the chest, right?”
“Yes. But don’t touch anything.”
Theo moves a little, clutching at his medal because yes, he’s still obsessed with it. And he does that thing with his mouth that means he’s getting bored, that he will be running around in less than a minute.
Eddie turns to Buck. “Wanna play? I seem to be ruining Chris’ new luxury mansion.”
Buck doesn’t need to look at Chris to know he’s rolling his eyes. Again.
“Sure,” he says, taking Eddie’s controller as he watches Theo wiggle his toes, vibrating with unbridled energy.
Buck doesn’t even have time to even press a button before Theo is sprinting off the sofa, squealing. Eddie catches him like he’s been expecting it, picking him up and twirling him around as Theo laughs in delight.
Everything feels a little warmer, homier, as he watches Theo try to climb Eddie like a very cute monkey.
“Buck,” Chris says, gesturing toward Buck’s controller, raising his eyebrows in a way that makes him look like he knows something Buck doesn’t.
Buck fiddles with the joystick. “I don’t know how to play.”
Chris groans.
Months pass, and nothing bad happens, and Eddie now knows his coffee order. He comes to Buck’s when the kids are at school on the days that they’re not working, holding two cups and wearing a smile. Eddie drinks it black until he doesn’t and hates Buck’s Hildy with the passion of a thousand suns.
“Me and Chris got you some ice cream,” Eddie tells Theo the first time Chris gets out of school a little earlier than normal. Buck just got to Eddie’s from picking up Theo from kindergarten, so he’s just as surprised as the little guy. Theo squeaks before throwing himself onto the coffee table.
“Careful,” Buck says and turns to Eddie. Eddie’s watching Theo with a gentle countenance, with a feeling that smooths out the lines of his face. It makes something in Buck feel small, vulnerable.
“You’re dealing with the sugar rush,” Buck tells him, voice a little thready.
Eddie shrugs. “Worth it.”
So, Theo gets his own little tub of Superman flavor, mostly because it’s so sweet that everybody else pushes the container away after a spoonful. Buck and Chris enjoy their own mint and chocolate chip while Eddie judges them all. He’s a chocolate guy, says it’s a classic, like most things he appears to enjoy in life.
Eddie’s a cinephile, the kind that’s really annoying about The Godfather. A car enthusiast, especially about sports cars and performance specs. A maniac behind the wheel. The guy that likes putting a friendly hand on Buck’s thigh as he drives. And God, does LA traffic piss him off, even if he denies it.
But he also misses driving Chris to school, who takes the bus because he thinks getting dropped off is kind of lame. And Buck kind of wishes he met them when Chris was younger, so they could do that kind of thing together, although teenage Chris is great as is.
Once in a while, Eddie tells Buck stories about how he used to joyride, to hotwire random cars on the street, when he was young and reckless. Buck wasn’t that cool when he was a teenager, isn’t as cool now, but he still shares tidbits about his past here and there, the different jobs he worked as, the most eccentric people he’s bumped into. And Eddie treats the words he utters like they’re important and interesting, listens to Buck rant about his new obsession of the week. He even lets Buck touch him when the touches are bordering on what’s considered more than buddy-buddy, uncharted territory that makes Buck squirm.
They have takeout and movie nights. Buck takes Chris to sleepovers. Eddie squeezes his hands in a dinner, once, mostly by mistake, a miscalculation of where Eddie’s own hand would end up. But it makes Buck’s heartbeat thunder in his ears.
And Buck makes Eddie blush whenever he can, watches him get all red over and over again. All the time. It’s such a pretty sight.
“How the boytoy?” Hen asks him sometimes.
She’s joking, Eddie and Buck aren’t anything, even if Maddie and Hen and Chim like to make quips about how close they are. Buck misses Eddie when they do. He wishes and wishes they worked together an average of twelve times a week.
Like always, the days grow colder, and Halloween is a cute affair. Buck dresses Theo as Spiderman, and they go trick-or-treating with Jee. Thanksgiving is uneventful, and Christmas passes with a little get-together at the 118, where Eddie, who doesn’t have to work on this holiday, shows up with Chris and Theo in tow, taking care of them while Buck has to go on calls.
Then it’s New Year’s, and Athena invites them to her house for dinner. Both of them. Like they’re a unit, a pair.
It makes Buck giddy just thinking about it.
“Have you tried the charcuterie board?” Eddie sidles up next to him, plopping a couple of cheese cubes in his mouth.
“You still on that? Countdown’s in a minute,” Buck says, although he’s unsurprised. Eddie loves snacking, especially on sweet stuff, but salty works too. He’s not picky outside of the principle of things, like pineapple not going on pizza, doesn’t even register when food tastes bad or spoiled most of the time, says it’s because all the MREs he had power through on tour.
Eddie shrugs. “Don’t have anybody to kiss.”
You could kiss me, Buck thinks. Not that that would ever happen; Eddie’s straight. An ally, but straight.
“Oh.” Eddie brightens up like there’s a light bulb on his head. “We could eat grapes.”
“Grapes?”
“Yeah, twelve grapes like in Mexico. We used to do it at home all the time.”
“It’s starting,” Chimney yells. Eddie looks in the direction of the charcuterie board and makes a sound. Too late to get the grapes now.
And three, two, one. Happy new year! Or not so happy for Buck, whose house is affected by the wildfires in January, which makes it unlivable for the next three months. Joy.
First, him and Theo try to live at Chim and Maddie’s, but this is quickly a bust. Three toddlers are one toddler too many, and Chim and Buck are too busy with the fires to take care of the kids.
“It’s too much,” Maddie says, and Buck doesn’t even fault her.
Hen and Karen don’t have room. Buck knew that before he asked, but it’s still disheartening. And Athena would say yes to him, but he could barely look at her most days.
It’s silly, Buck thinks, that the fires feel like a consequence of the world moving on without Bobby.
A hotel is the next best option. Something expensive because Theo needs his own room. But Buck doesn’t feel comfortable leaving Theo and Britney to stay overnight somewhere strangers have access to, doesn’t trust Theo not to do some property damage either. And Buck can’t fathom his caseworker not taking Theo away in that scenario. He’s already on thin ice.
“Stay with me, then,” Eddie says.
Buck leans on a counter, beer in hand. “There’s not enough room,” he says.
“Nonsense. Ya’ll can sleep on my bed, and I’ll get the couch.”
As excited as Buck feels at the prospect of burying his head on Eddie’s pillow, he’ll feel even more guilty for inconveniencing him this way. And Buck and Eddie are both working overtime because of the fires; Chris didn’t sign up for Britney to be practically living in his house.
“I can’t do that you,” Buck says, “What about Chris?”
“Chris would love for you to move in. And, with all the sleepovers, he’s barely home anyway.”
“I dunno. Plus, Theo needs his own room by law.”
“Okay. We buy an air mattress, put it on the living room, say we’re both sleeping there.”
Buck can’t argue with that. “You should get the bed. It-It’s your bed, Eddie.”
“And it’s your son.”
“I’m just some guy to him. And he loves you.”
Eddie pats Buck the shoulder. “He loves you too. How about we get the kids, build a fort, and see how we feel about it tomorrow?”
Buck bites his lip. It’s a bad idea, but God does he want to.
“And buy an air mattress,” Buck says.
Eddie smiles. “And buy an air mattress.”
So, they buy a mattress and build a fort. And, the day after, Buck wakes up with a crick on his neck and a grin on his face. He’s alone in their little makeshift fort, but he can hear sounds coming from the dinner table.
“I found a Dory with some of my old toys,” is the first thing Chris says to him, gesturing at Theo who’s fussing over a plushie of a fish. They watched Finding Nemo yesterday. It was Chris’ favorite movie growing up.
Buck rests his hand on Chris’ shoulder. “Thank you. I bet it’s less destructive than Marley.”
“RIP Marley,” Chris says. They lost him in the fire, mostly because Buck wanted him gone. Letting Theo have a rock was a mistake.
Eddie comes in through the doorway. “Mattress came in a couple hours ago.”
Buck frowns. “What time is it?”
“Just a little after eleven,” Eddie says.
“Oh. I was gonna make breakfast.”
Eddie waves him off. “It’s fine. There’s bacon in the kitchen, if you want some. And besides, you gotta help me blow this up, then Chris needs his homework checked, and Theo needs a bath.”
“I don’t need a bath.”
Chris nods. “But it’s always fun to take a bath. Don’t you want bubbles?”
Theo nods. “Okay.”
Buck scrubs Theo clean, Eddie skims through Chris’ math homework, and they all spend the rest of the day setting everything up, changing sheets, doing chores…When the evening comes, Buck starts dinner.
“You should take the bed. You’re working tomorrow,” Eddie says, hair wet from his shower. The kids are in another room. In a better timeline, Buck would be able to reach out and kiss him.
Buck stirs his cheese sauce. “You also work tomorrow. I know your schedule. And I talked to Chimney; I won’t be volunteering or doing any overtime anymore.”
“That’s good. But look, you need your rest. I can take the air mattress.”
“Why is my rest more important than yours?”
“I’m used to sleeping on way worse than an air mattress, Buckley. Take the bed.”
“No, you take the bed.”
Eddie drops his arms to his sides. “Fine,” he says in a tone that doesn’t make it seem fine. “We’ll both sleep on the air mattress. That’s what we’ll tell Theo’s caseworker anyway.”
“I thought we were gonna say that one of us slept on the couch.”
“Does it matter?”
Buck looks at Eddie, who seems a little frustrated. “It’s your bed, Eddie,” he says.
Eddie’s expression molds into a familiar kind of gentle, soft. “Buck,” he says. “I want you to take it.”
He seems genuine, but Buck can’t do that to him. He just can’t.
“I’ll take the couch,” he says, and Eddie groans.
“Why would you take the couch?” The question has such an obvious answer that Buck doesn’t really understand why Eddie is asking.
“Because you wanna sleep on the air mattress.”
Eddie puts his head in his hands.
There’s no resolution, not one they were able to come to anyway. So, at night, after reading Theo three stories and hugging Chris goodnight, they both trail into the living room, Eddie picking up a pillow from the air mattress and a blanket from a storage cabinet.
“What are you doing?” Buck asks in a whisper.
“Sleeping on the couch.”
“No, I’m sleeping on the couch.”
“Get on the mattress, Buckley.”
“Only if you get on the mattress too,” Buck says, immediately realizing how it sounds. And now he wants to die.
But Eddie doesn’t make fun of him or even respond. He just flops onto the mattress, throwing him a beckoning gesture. Buck sits down on the other side, butt on the edge so they don’t touch. Jesus, there really isn’t room for the two of them, huh?
“Buck.”
“What?”
“Lie down.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Inside the covers.”
“Okay.”
Eddie’s body drapes all over him, and Buck freezes, forgetting how to breathe.
He gets it; there’s a lack of space. But Eddie’s sleeping on him. And it’s not like Eddie wants to. There’s no other option. Eddie has no choice. But, Jesus Christ, Eddie’s sleeping on him.
“Relax,” Eddie says.
Buck keeps his eyes on the ceiling. “Sorry,” he croaks.
“What are you sorry for?”
Buck doesn’t answer, can barely hear the question over the buzzing in his ears, the violent pounding of his heart. He’s trying to stay rigid still, anchor himself on the blurry and swimmy, away from the wave of want that’s rushing through him.
“Hey,” Eddie says, laying his hand on Buck’s jaw, inching closer until they’re nose to nose. “You okay?” he asks.
And it’s like he realigned Buck senses. Everything is clearer now.
Buck gaze flickers up to Eddie’s mouth, then up where Eddie’s looking down, staring. Buck licks his lips and it drags Eddie even closer, like there’s a magnetic pull there, like they’re two opposing poles attracting each other.
Their eyes meet and Buck nods, the kinds of movement that Eddie could interpret as him answering his previous question. It isn’t, but Eddie can take it as such, if he doesn’t want the same thing Buck’s body is singing for.
Eddie doesn’t take the out. He kisses him in a way that’s delicate, chaste. And then, he presses harder with fervor, licking into his mouth in a way that makes Buck tremble. And Eddie grabs at his arms, his wrists, his chest. Buck tugs at his hair. There are desperate noises that get muffled in between their lips. A quiet sigh here, a quiet moan there.
Eddie tastes like toothpaste, like the best decision that Buck’s ever made. And Buck knows he will regret this when Eddie comes to his senses, but right now it feels like he never will.
“You’re straight,” Buck pants out Eddie pulls away. It’s a dumb thing to say, but Buck had always been kind of stupid. And right now he can’t think, dizzy from the weight of Eddie looming over him, drunk on his mouth and his tongue and his spit.
Eddie shakes his head. They continue kissing, slipping into something hot and languid that feels like the epitome of safety.
They fall asleep at some point, huddled up together like they’re fused by the hip. And in the early morning before work, Buck wakes up to his alarm and the smell of eggs. He finds Eddie in the kitchen, making breakfast. Making breakfast for Buck and the kids like they’re a family. And maybe, if Buck plays his cards right, someday they will be.
“Hey,” Buck says, voice quiet.
Eddie looks at him before turning away to the stovetop. “Good morning to you too, Buck. How did you sleep?”
“Good,” Buck says, walking over to him, moving his hands to grab a belt that he isn’t wearing and awkwardly grappling at nothing.
Eddie nods. “Good.”
“And you? H-how did you sleep?” That’s not the question that Buck’s really asking, but Eddie probably knows that, even if Buck, in his shoes, wouldn’t.
Do you like me? Buck tries to ask telepathically. How much do you like me?
Eddie plates the scrambled eggs and offers them up to Buck. “Want some bacon?”
Oh. He wants to pretend like nothing happened, doesn’t he?
Something inside Buck’s ribcage crumbles, body wanting to hunch in on itself like someone just punched him in the stomach.
He tries not to appear crestfallen. “No, it’s okay. I’ll make me a protein shake when I get home.”
“I was just gonna do that.”
“It’s okay.”
There’s a pit of dread in Buck’s gut, a big lump in his throat. Did he ruin things with Eddie? He hopes not. Buck knows deep in his bones that he can’t live without him. He can’t.
Buck’s eyes burn, his heart hurts, and he feels so, so pathetic. He really thought, even just for a moment, that someone like Eddie would like someone like him. And isn’t that funny? Or maybe it’s just sad.
“I have to tell Chris,” Eddie says. “We can’t…do this without Chris’ blessing,”
Buck doesn’t know what Eddie’s talking about. “Do what?” he asks.
“You know what.”
It takes him a minute. His brain has to reboot. And oh, okay. Maybe Eddie’s not rejecting him. Maybe Buck read it wrong.
“And you want to?” Buck asks, finding it a little easier to breathe now.
Eddie’s face softens in that special way of his. “Of course I do.”
Buck blinks, disbelieving.
Eddie cups Buck’s face with gentle hands. “Hey,” he says. “Of course I want to.”
Buck nods, a little dazed. “Theo loves you,” he says.
Eddie chuckles, moving to drop the hand that’s on Buck cheek, but Buck holds it there.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and Eddie ducks his head just a little.
He points at Buck. “Only one kiss.”
“Yeah. Only one.”
It’s a press of the lips, a peck, and then two, and it might’ve been three if they hadn’t heard little footsteps come running.
“Pshhh.” Theo waves around his toy robot. Buck wants to live in this moment forever.
He doesn’t, but Chris approves of their relationship; doesn’t even seem surprised. And two months later, when they tell Theo they’re boyfriends, he just says, “Okay!” like he doesn’t really understand that there was a change.
But things have changed, irrevocably. Buck isn’t the same man he was a year ago. He has Eddie now, who pulls Chris closer as Theo wiggles in Eddie’s lap, and watches them interact with a gaze that’s so, so sweet.
It’s love, the thing that softens Eddie’s face. Love for Theo. Love for Chris. And love for Buck as well, in a way that makes Buck feel like he’s stuck in a dream that’s too good to be true. Tiny Evan would break every single one of his bones to have something half as good as this, and now, thirty-four-year-old Buck gets it handed over on a silver platter.
He was shivering in a beat-up jeep ten years ago, starved for food and affection. And after he found home in LA, he was touched and used and discarded for half of a decade. Because he was that boy that wasn’t taught how to say no, who wanted people to like him too much to say it. It all feels like a lifetime ago. It all feels like yesterday. He’s still that boy sometimes today.
But now with a ring inside his sock drawer, because Buck’s always been kind of insane. And that’s okay, because Eddie has a ring in his sock drawer too.