Archive of Our Own

When Buck tells Eddie about dating Tommy nothing changes, just like he said to Buck.

Nothing changes.

Except it does.

Buck takes Eddie’s advice and gets back in touch with Tommy and they try again. And again and again and again. Buck spends so much time with Tommy that Eddie starts to realize how he must’ve felt when Eddie was the one hanging out with Tommy all of the time.

It doesn’t feel great.

He knows he was kind of a dick not to invite Buck along with him and Tommy when they were hanging out, and it’s not like he didn’t want Buck there, he always wants Buck there, but he knew the things they were doing just weren’t Buck’s thing. He didn’t want him to be bored. At least that’s what he’s been telling himself, but he knows Buck would’ve hung out with them anyway because he just wants to be included. He always wants to be included.

He needs to be included.

And Eddie knows this.

Buck craves attention and affection and time together. It makes him a bit sick to his stomach that Buck felt alone and left out and all he had to have done was to ask him along. Buck would’ve happily sat in Tommy’s garage while they worked on the Chevelle even if he had no idea what they were doing or talking about because he couldn’t give less of a shit about cars, but he would’ve done it, just to be with them. To be included. In fact, he probably would’ve asked question after question and been willing to learn even though he doesn’t care because he knows Eddie and Tommy do and even if he’s not interested in something Buck still wants to know about it, wants to learn so he can figure out what it is that makes it so interesting for the other person. He simply wants to know and appreciate the things the people he loves knows and appreciates.

Because he’s Buck.

And Eddie let the rush of a shiny new friendship distract him enough to forget it.

But now it’s Buck and Tommy hanging out - dating - and it’s not like Buck can ask him to join them so now it’s Eddie feeling left out even though he knows he shouldn’t. Buck’s in a new relationship, on a whole new journey in his life and sexuality and Eddie can’t exactly tag along even though they’ve always tagged along after each other in everything.

Besides, he’s trying to navigate his way through his own relationship, figuring out how he and Marisol work together after agreeing to back off of the whole moving in together thing and to start over. He needs to focus on her, on them, he has his own things going on, his own life separate from Buck. They both need time on their own, apart from one another, to be with their partners and build their lives with them.

That’s what he tries to believe, at least.

When he looks at his dry-erase calendar and sees it filled with his own handwriting and none of Buck’s he suddenly feels lost. The entire month of May stretches before him without a single note telling him when Buck’s therapy appointments are, or his dentist appointment, or what days he’s picking up Chris from school because Carla is with another client, or one of Buck’s stupid drawings of a fish because they’re going to the aquarium that day, or an alien because they’re going to the planetarium.

Eddie doesn’t know when Buck’s getting his goddamn teeth cleaned and he has to sit down at the kitchen table before his legs give out underneath him, has to stare at the calendar in front of him and wonder where Buck went.

And it’s not just the calendar, there’s no leftovers in the fridge that weren’t made by Eddie himself, or occasionally Marisol. Buck’s way too fancy dutch oven isn’t sitting on the back burner of the stove because there’s not enough room in any of Eddie’s cupboards. It’s back at Buck’s, because Tommy makes killer chili that’s almost as good as Bobby’s, and bolognese sauce that must be nearly fucking orgasmic from the way Buck describes it. They cook together now, apparently, and he needs the pot at the loft. Where it belongs, Eddie guesses.

One night he’s sitting folding laundry and watching Love Island when he realizes he doesn’t have a Buck pile. There’s just his and Christopher’s piles, and one of Marisol’s t-shirts that she wears to bed, but no Buck pile. No hot pink heart socks or stupidly expensive boxer briefs that he could just fucking get at Target if he wasn’t so stupidly dramatic about underwear, no hoodies, no stretched out old gym clothes. Nothing. And when Eddie heads to his bedroom with the laundry basket after leaving Chris’ folded clothes on his bed to be put away, he sets the basket down on the floor next to the dresser so he can pull out the bottom right drawer, just to see. He doesn’t know how long he stares down at the empty drawer, but he knows it’s an unreasonably long time. He tries and tries to remember when Buck might’ve pulled the last t-shirt from it, but he can’t.

He can’t.

Why doesn’t he know?

When Chris asks to go to the public library one day Eddie looks at him in confusion, they never go there, Buck is forever dumping books in Chris’ lap and telling him, ‘read this, it’s so cool, Chris, you’re gonna love it!’ so usually Chris gets more than enough reading material between Buck and his school library. But when Chris asks Eddie looks around and sees only Chris’ textbooks on his desk, and only his light on his nightstand. He mumbles something about being ready in five and then he goes out to the living room and finds an empty side table, and coffee table, and a half empty bookshelf because a couple months ago they went through them and decided on which ones to keep and which ones to donate and Buck hasn’t added any more to the shelves since. The only thing that’s left of Buck’s perpetual piles of books is an old scribbled on post-it he used as a bookmark half tucked under the lamp on the side table.

Chris asks him what he’s doing when he comes out the requested five minutes later and finds him sitting on the coffee table staring at their bookshelf. He’s not sure how to answer him so he just tells him to meet him in the truck.

Thankfully Chris just shrugs and lets it go, because how is Eddie supposed to explain how he suddenly feels lost and unbalanced in his own home? How it’s suddenly so wholly unfamiliar to him?

How can he ask Chris if he knows when Buck disappeared?

If he knows the exact minute it happened so they can go back in time and snatch him back, so they can hold onto him.

Eddie tries to get past what he’s feeling, but it’s almost impossible when he can’t even define it.

He’s in a good place with work and with Christopher, even with Marisol. They’re going on more dates and learning more about each other, talking like they haven’t done before. Looking back everything had been superficial, they’d been casual acquaintances who fucked, he can admit that now. He’d never given Marisol a chance to know him better, anything that fell deeper than the very surface of him he’d taken to Buck. It was easier. Buck knows him better than anyone ever has, but he isn’t here anymore.

He has Tommy, Eddie has Marisol, and this is a new phase in their lives.

They each have a significant other and they can’t always be relying on only each other for everything anymore. They have to let their partners be a part of their lives now.

Eddie has to let Marisol be a part of his life.

Because Buck and Tommy seem to be doing just fine. From what Buck shares with them all at work things couldn’t be going better. He says he feels more comfortable, more himself with Tommy than he has with any other person he’s ever dated.

And Eddie is so happy for him because he deserves it, he deserves someone who will treat him the way he should be treated. He’s spent so long searching for that sense of comfort and home, has kept twisting himself into what he thinks the other person wants when all he wants is to be seen and accepted and treasured, just as he is. And now he has that with Tommy. He doesn’t need to cling to Eddie so tightly anymore, now he has someone else who will be good to him, who won’t give up on him. Tommy seems to be all in now. On the rare occasions when they hang out together, just the two of them, all he can do is sing Buck’s praises. Just saying Buck’s name makes a smile spread across his face.

And Buck is the same.

He blushes and laughs, ducks his head with that shy smile he gets when he’s especially thrilled with something. He’s loose-limbed and relaxed. He’s settling into himself, and he glows.

He fucking glows.

It hurts to look at him sometimes. Eddie’s almost afraid to touch him, he thinks the light of him might burn.

When Buck comes over to help Christopher with a project Eddie finally realizes there was nothing wrong with the circuitry, or the wattage of his lightbulbs in his house, nothing wrong with the heat, it was simply the absence of Buck. Because when he walks through the door and calls out their names the dimness and chill that’s been bothering Eddie for weeks disappears. He’d been checking lights, adjusting lampshades, washing windows he thought had a film over them, adjusting the thermostat because the whole house just felt faded, cold, and this whole time it’s been Buck. He’s at Eddie’s kitchen table with Chris and it feels like all of his blinds are open and the sun is bursting in.

He stands in the kitchen doorway and feels his shoulders relax, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

“You fall asleep there, Eds?” Buck laughs.

Eddie slowly opens his eyes, smiles. “Must’ve.”

“Dad, make us a snack.”

Buck looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, Eddie just shrugs and rolls his eyes.

“You’re missing a please in there somewhere.”

Chris huffs out a, “please,” in the most put upon, annoyed voice imaginable and Buck laughs again.

It’s perfect.

Buck always makes time for Christopher. Always. But Eddie still finds it difficult to not ask for more time for himself.

It’s stupid. He doesn’t want to be that person, but he’s never experienced this kind of separation from Buck before. With the lawsuit, yes, but this is different. Buck always had time for him when he was dating other people before, he took it for granted that Buck would always be there, but he’s starting to realize Buck had the time for him because the people he was with didn’t make the time for him. At least not the amount they should have, they should have wanted to spend every minute they could with Buck because he was worth all those minutes.

Tommy makes the time for him.

He hoards those precious minutes.

He’s everything he should be for Buck.

So Eddie’s not going to be that person.

He’s not.

But then one day he walks by Christopher’s room and hears him on FaceTime with Buck, hears him say, “I think Dad misses you,” and he stops in his tracks to listen for Buck’s reply.

“You know what, bud? I miss him too.”

And it’s soft like it’s a bit of revelation to him, and Eddie lets out a relieved breath because now he knows he’s not the only one.

He’s not.

“Yeah, well, tell him to invite me over then,” he says, and hopes his voice sounds teasing and light instead of bordering on needy. “I haven’t seen the inside of the loft in a month.”

“Dad, stop interrupting my calls.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Buck’s voice rings out from the phone, and Eddie suddenly needs to see his face with a desperation that feels a bit manic.

He tries to mask what he’s feeling by trying to annoy Chris instead, so he pushes into his room and squeezes himself next to him on his bed so his face is on the screen too, and watches as a beautiful, brilliant smile spreads across Buck’s face when he comes into view. He feels like he can breathe again. In his strange giddiness he wraps his arms around Chris and smashes their cheeks together.

“Apparently I’m interrupting calls on a phone I pay for, is that even possible?”

“You should respect my privacy,” Chris says, but Eddie squishes his face even closer and asks, “like this?” and Chris just laughs and shoves at his side.

Buck’s eyes are bright and happy watching them, even through a tiny phone screen, and Eddie stares back.

He stares and he stares.

“You’re always invited, you know that.”

“What?” Eddie’s got a bit lost looking down at Buck.

“To my house?” Buck says, like Eddie’s a bit slow, which he is. He feels like molasses right now for some reason.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Just making sure.” Buck’s voice is quiet and warm, pleased as he smiles like he does when he thinks Eddie’s being a bit dim.

Chris and Buck go back to their conversation and Eddie just leans back against Chris’ pillows and lets their voices drift over him. He must fall asleep because the next thing he knows Chris is poking him in the side and he’s opening his eyes.

“You’re drooling on my shoulder. Buck took a screen grab, fyi. He’ll probably make it his lockscreen”

Eddie’s got a crick in his neck because apparently he did indeed fall asleep on Christoher’s shoulder for the last thirty minutes of his and Buck’s phone call. He rubs at his neck and shifts into a better position, settles himself on his back next to Chris as they both stare at the ceiling.

“Can I tell you something?” Chris asks after a couple of quiet minutes.

“Of course you can.”

“Promise you won’t get upset?”

“You do know prefacing anything with, ‘promise you won’t get upset’ is upsetting in and of itself because whatever comes after it will inevitably be upsetting, right?”

Chris just sighs.

“I promise,” Eddie says as he gives Chris’ shoulder a nudge.

“I’m glad you and Marisol decided not to move in together.”

Eddie’s a bit surprised since they’d talked about it, just the two of them, and Chris had assured him he was good with it.

“I thought you said you were okay with Mari moving in. You like her, right?”

“I like her a lot, she’s really nice, I’m just glad she’s not living here.”

“Then why did you tell me it was okay, you know I’d never have asked her if you weren’t okay with it. Your opinion is the one that matters most to me in the whole world. It will always be the most important.”

“I know, and that’s why I said it was okay with me. I knew if I said it wasn’t you wouldn’t ask her and you seemed really set on it.”

“Chris, I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to lie to me. That you can’t tell me what you’re really thinking.”

“But I want you to have things too. You always do everything for me, and you seemed to want Marisol to move in with us so I wanted you to have that.”

Eddie feels tears pricking hot in the corners of his eyes. He loves his kid so goddamn much, loves his whole beautiful heart with every single molecule of his body and soul.

“Christopher.”

He can’t say anything more than that without bursting into tears so he grabs Chris instead, pulls him into his arms and holds him there and wishes he could freeze time and never let him go. Chris turns to his side and curls into him, lets himself be hugged to within an inch of his life, and actually hugs Eddie back.

When Eddie finally lets him go they’re laying on their sides facing each other. Chris’ glasses are sitting awkwardly on his face, his pillow pressing at them and making them all wonky. He smiles at his perfect, sweet, dorky boy.

“I like Marisol, I do,” he says, but then he stops and Eddie knows he wants to say more but he’s not sure he should.

“But?” He prompts.

“But I thought it was always gonna be Buck.”

Suddenly Eddie feels like his stomach has bottomed out, and there’s heat pricking up the back of his neck, hot and unsettling.

“What was always gonna be Buck?” He manages to get out.

“Here, with us.” Chris is looking straight at him, and in the matter of a second Eddie feels the startling anticipation of a terrible fear or a beautiful longing truth come screaming at him. “I thought if it was ever going to be three of us again it would be Buck.”

“Buck?”

God, why can’t he say anything other than Buck’s name? Why can’t he do anything but repeat Christopher back to himself?

“Dad, you know it’s us. You have to know.”

And he does know.

He does.

He’s always known, and his heart starts pounding with the truth of it. He feels relief and terror and a sharp, brilliant joy all at once. It’s overwhelming, and to his absolute fucking horror he just starts crying. Right in front of Christopher. A big, hiccuping sob bursts out of his throat. He tries to heave it back in but it’s useless, he just shudders and an even louder sob breaks free instead. For one crazy moment he thinks it’s all of his hidden, piercing love for Buck spilling out of him in uncontrollable waves. The dam’s burst. That impenetrable, rigid dam, and now he’s drowning. He feels like he’s on the verge of going completely under.

But then Chris touches his cheek and he can breathe again.

“It’s okay.”

Eddie focuses on Chris’ face, draws in another breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“Dad, you’re always telling me it’s okay to cry. It’s okay for you too. Although that was pretty ugly crying, you might want to try being less blubbery and embarrassing next time.”

And Eddie lets out a loud snotty snort of laughter that’s probably just as embarrassing and ugly as the crying, but goddammit. Christopher.

“And you might want to work on being less judgy when trying to guide others towards emotional well-being.”

Chris just grins at him, all cocky and proud of himself.

For the next couple of minutes he tries to settle his breathing while Chris waits him out. It’s only when his shuddering breaths calm down to an even in and out does Chris reassure him.

“We’ll figure Buck out.”

Eddie wants to believe his thirteen year old somehow knows that for certain, somehow holds the answers to the universe, but he can’t deny reality. He can’t lie to him. He can’t say, of course they will, of course everything with Buck will get figured out, of course everything you want for your whole life you’ll get. It just doesn’t work that way.

“I think he really likes Tommy, kiddo.”

“Yeah, he does. But he loves us.”

How does he tell his kid that isn’t always enough?

Eddie moves through the next couple of days in a sort of haze.

Because it’s Buck.

It’s Buck.

After leaving Chris to go to bed he’d wandered out into the backyard and sat out in the fresh night air and let himself admit all the things he’d buried so deep he’d almost been able to forget about them.

He looked up at the sky and loved Buck.

And he loved the fourteen year old Eddie who, his whole body shaking, set his arm right next to his friend Aaron’s arm on their shared armrest at the movie theater as he watched X-Men and Eddie watched him, breathless and confused. The sixteen year old Eddie who pretended to love soccer so he could act as goalie for Mason Jacobson as he practiced his penalty kicks, and later took the long way home with him in the glow of sunset. And most of all the eighteen year old Eddie who went to a party and found himself in the guy’s little sister’s bedroom sitting on her purple flowered bed and looking at Augusto Ruiz as he leaned in all wide-eyed and blushing bright red to kiss him, and running out before their lips could meet only to knock into Shannon in the hallway and kiss her instead to try to prove something to himself.

He loved them all, because they needed so much love. So much.

They needed to be told that their small, little world wasn’t the only thing out there, that feeling those things for boys was nothing to be ashamed of, and that the things they were told sitting on a hard, wooden pew every Sunday for their entire childhood were not always right. The love they felt, the wild swoop in their stomachs when they looked at Aaron, Jacob, Augusto, a dozen others, was beautiful and good, that it was the guilt and the shame that were bad.

They needed to know that one day they’d love a boy, truly love him, and it would set their heart afire, make their stomach swoop, and make everything make sense.

He wishes he could tell them all of that.

He’d texted Marisol that they needed to talk and then he spent the rest of the night letting himself cry and breathe and love all the pieces of himself he’d neglected for so long.

But now he’s awake in a world where he knows why an empty drawer had almost made him weep, and a half-filled bookshelf had stabbed into him, and why all the trying in the world will never make his house a home with anyone other than Buck.

He goes to work and smiles at the right times and says the right things when he needs to and pretends to be normal when all he wants to do is press himself into Buck and whisper against the curve of his neck, I didn’t know. I promise I didn’t know, but I love you. I love you. Please love me too.

Instead he sits and watches Buck hunched over his phone, smiling and texting, and he doesn’t say anything at all.

He takes Buck up on his standing invitation to the loft. He thinks he might be a bit of a masochist though because having to spend every working hour with Buck is hard enough and now he’s on adding onto it. But he taps all that down and goes to pick up some food from Buck’s favorite Chinese place and shows up at his door.

“Eddie!”

He hadn’t texted he was coming for this reason alone, the way Buck says his name when he’s surprised, like Eddie is the best possible thing he could’ve ever found on the other side of his door.

“I brought food.”

Buck’s eyes light up when he sees the name on the bag Eddie’s holding.

“Chinese?”

Eddie’s kicking off his shoes and is about to say, of course, because he knows Buck. He knows him, and he needs Buck to remember that. But when he looks back up to say it he hears Tommy call out a hello to him and he sees him standing at Buck’s stove, stirring something in that goddamn dutch oven that should be at home on Eddie’s stove.

“Hey,” he says instead.

“Buck didn’t say you were coming over, this is great!”

Fuck, why does he have to sound so happy to see him?

“Uh, Buck didn’t know. I kinda decided at the last minute and didn’t text him. I’m sorry, I should’ve.”

“You know you don’t have to, Eddie,” Buck says as he grabs the food from his hands.

“No, I should’ve. Tommy’s cooking. I can head out–”

“No way, you’re staying,” Tommy says.

“But the food.”

“We can do a Buffriday like Maddie and Chim.”

“Buck, it’s Tuesday.”

“Buffuesday then.” Buck laughs as he walks over to Tommy to show him the food Eddie brought and Tommy leans in to kiss his laughing mouth.

It’s all so fucking stupid, and Eddie wants to die, but Buck’s so happy and he knows he’s never going to leave.

“Buffuesday isn’t a thing, Buck.” Eddie tries for his best unimpressed Christopher imitation and Buck just smiles at him knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“Well I say it is. It can be our thing. The three of us.”

The three of them.

Christopher’s voice echoes in his head and he tries to keep it from rattling around in there in some maddening, never-ending loop.

Of course Buck would include him. Eddie’s heart is trying to break free from his chest and make a leap at Buck, but he just smiles instead and tries to keep from pressing his hand to his chest in some sort of sad attempt to keep his fucking heart inside his body where it belongs.

“We should invite Marisol next time though,” Tommy says. “Don’t want her to feel left out.”

Buck’s busy pulling all the food containers out of the bag but he looks up at Eddie, “We should. We can all get to know each other better. I’ve barely talked to her at all, you know Tommy way better than I know her.”

And isn’t that fucking telling?

Eddie kept Marisol from Buck the entire time they were dating, he did the same thing with Ana, and it’s only becoming clear now why he always kept them separate, how he must’ve known that seeing them side-by-side would never end well for Marisol or for Ana. Neither one of them would ever compare to Buck.

He’s been so unbelievably stupid.

So stupid and repressed, so in denial, and now he’s stuck in Buck’s kitchen staring across the island as Tommy holds out a spoonful of whatever he’s cooking to Buck, who lets him feed it to him instead of taking the spoon himself. He closes his eyes and moans at the taste of it and Tommy chuckles under his breath at him and all Eddie can do is stand there. Stand there while everything slips away piece by piece.

Eddie pulls his eyes away from the two of them.

“Uh, yeah, no. We, ah. We broke up.”

Buck immediately looks over at him, eyes wide and shocked.

“What? When?”

“Um, a few days ago.”

“Eddie.”

“Buck.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I should have, but I honestly don’t know. I feel embarrassed about it all, to be honest.”

“Why embarrassed?”

“I asked her to move in like a month ago and then I break up with her? Like what am I doing?”

Buck walks around the island until he’s standing in front of Eddie and can grab him by the shoulders to push him to sit down on one of the stools while he sits down on the other.

“You’re figuring yourself out?” Buck says. “I think I’m kinda familiar with the concept.”

Eddie can hear Tommy quietly laugh at that, and Buck’s eyes are boring into him, but he’s grinning at him too, like it’s no big deal, like Eddie is okay.

“Yeah, well, it’s still embarrassing.”

“We’re all works in progress, man,” Tommy says.

Buck points at Tommy. “Yeah, that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and manages to give Buck a half smile. Buck leans in and grabs Eddie’s knees, gives them a good squeeze.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

We.

We’ll.

Just like Christopher said about Buck.

Always the two of them, one so like the other.

So wonderfully, beautifully alike.

Goddammit. He doesn’t want to start to cry right now.

“Maybe later though?” Eddie manages to say. “I’m kinda starving right now.”

“Buffuesday!” Buck shouts.

“That’s not gonna be a thing, Buck.”

“It is. It’s totally going to be a thing.”

“No. It’s not.”

“It is,” Buck sings out.

Tommy’s been setting out plates and silverware in the middle of all of his and Buck’s arguing, and he just gives Eddie a fork and says, “Best to let him have this one, he’s gonna call it that anyway, whether it’s dumb or not. Which it is.”

“I am,” Buck agrees. “But also, hey!”

“Besides, he’s cute. That face? Sometimes you just gotta let things slide for that pretty face.”

Buck laughs and blushes and Eddie hates everything. Tommy’s right, though, he’d let anything slide for Buck.

“You’re forgiven.”

“Can’t say I was worried.”

They work on getting all the food transferred over to the table and Eddie keeps watching Buck and Tommy’s back and forth. It sounds familiar, it sounds like them, the way they are with each other, and Eddie aches more and more with the thought of what he had within his grasp that’s just– gone now.

He’s fucking miserable, but it’s a misery of his own making. The high of that first night after talking to Christopher and realizing what he’d been holding inside of himself for so long is rapidly fading away. He knows he’s had shit to deal with in his life, people and beliefs and expectations, that sunk their claws into him and held on tight for years and years, but he wishes so badly right now that he could’ve escaped those claws sooner.

Because he knows, if he’d only told Buck, if he would’ve reached out for him, Buck would’ve reached back. He’d have grabbed onto him and pulled him free. Buck would never have let him sink.

He never has before.

But he’s never going to burden Buck with that knowledge. Especially when he sees him now, so happy and content, and just so at peace with himself. He’s so beautiful, and he was already beautiful in Eddie’s eyes, but now he can’t look away from him. If he ever said anything Buck would only feel badly and try to fix things for him, and he never wants that for Buck.

Instead he makes his way through dinner, manages to laugh and have a good time in the end because he loves Buck and he likes Tommy and they’re his friends. First and foremost Buck is his friend, and Eddie’s not going to let that change.

He never wants to miss sitting across from him and laughing at him as he shovels food into his mouth then complains about eating too much. He never wants to miss stupid things like Buffuesdays, or perfect things like Friday night movies and pizza. He already has so much.

And at the center of it all is Buck.

Like Chris said, they’ll figure it out.

“What does yours say?” Buck asks Tommy when he opens up his fortune cookie.

“The middle of the process is no place to determine the end of it.”

“Oh, that’s a good one, I like it.” Buck cracks his open and smiles. “Be passionate and totally worth the chaos.”

Passionate and worth the chaos.

It’s like it was tailor-made for Buck. His wild chaotic love turning Eddie’s life upside down, and worth every pain and joy.

“That one’s perfect for you,” Eddie says.

“You think? I mean I know the chaotic part is,” Buck says, like it’s a fault.

“The chaos is the best part.”

Buck’s face goes soft and Eddie wants to reach out and touch his cheek.

“What does yours say?”

Eddie cracks his cookie open and pulls out the little strip of paper. When he reads it he wants to start laughing hysterically.

“The love of your life is right in front of your eyes.”

“Oh no, that’s rough,” Tommy commiserates.

Buck gives him sad eyes for about five seconds, but then he breaks and snorts, really loudly, before bursting out in laughter.

“I’m sorry. Oh my god, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh–”

“Yes, you do,” Eddie grumps at him as he leans back and crosses his arms.

“But I’m trying not to, that has to count for something.”

“Buck, oh my god, stop,” Tommy tries to glare at him, but then Buck looks at him, still laughing, and he starts to laugh too.

They’re both worse than the other and are only making each other laugh more. And Eddie can’t help it, it is funny. It’s fucking ridiculous. Both Buck and Tommy probably think he’s heartbroken over Marisol, and of course he’d get that as his fortune. Neither one knows Marisol never once crossed his mind because the fortune is true, the love of his life is right there in front of him, laughing, and Eddie is bordering on hysterical, but goddammit, he can feel the laughter coming.

It bursts out of him, and quite frankly he’s surprised it sounds even a little bit normal. But then Buck seems so happy that he’s laughing too that he laughs louder. He keeps apologizing, saying it’s not funny, but he keeps laughing, and it’s actually kind of cathartic. He and Buck are in tears by the end of it, Tommy’s settled somewhat and is looking at them both like they’re nuts, which is wonderfully funny to them both as well, and it’s one of those unhinged laughing fits that just feels fucking good.

Once they settle down Buck just looks at him, so fond and happy, his face still wet with tears and a smile that cracks Eddie’s heart open.

He has that.

He has that stupid, silly, beautifully chaotic part of Buck. It’s his. It’s been his since they met and promised to have each other’s backs. He has that piece of him and he’s going to cling to it. He’s lost so much already that he’s going to hoard what he has left.

So when Buck and Tommy get up and start clearing off the table Eddie reaches out and grabs Buck’s fortune and tucks it in his pocket when Buck’s back is turned.

That wild, perfect chaos.

He’s keeping what’s his.

Eddie finds himself doing it more and more often, grabbing onto pieces of Buck and tucking them away for safe-keeping. He feels like a fucking little goblin when he picks up an old paperback Buck’s just finished and left on the coffee table at the station, or when he pockets one of the beaded bracelets he made with Jee that he keeps in his locker, and then a sloth magnet off of his fridge when he goes to the loft again.

Over and over.

He keeps stealing things from Buck, hoarding them, and he wants to tell himself he has no idea why he’s doing it, but he does. He feels an almost manic need to refill his home with Buck, or at least with pieces of him. It’s been so devoid of him, so empty and lonely, and if Eddie can just have these things he tries to believe it’ll be okay.

He’ll be okay.

So he takes a t-shirt from Buck’s locker, stinky from the gym, and tries not to feel pathetic and gross, a pair of alligator socks that were folded up in Buck’s laundry basket that sat at the foot of his steps until he found the time to bring it up to his bedroom, and then one of the collection of assorted mini basketballs Chris has been giving Buck to make fun of him for trying to, “y’know, like, kill my dad on the court.” The glee in Christopher’s eyes when he wins a basketball keychain for Buck at Dave & Busters would be a bit troubling if it wasn’t so funny. Buck always grumps, but then laughs bright and loud when Chris shoves into him as hard as he can, holding the basketball and shouting about loving him “so hard I’m gonna maim you!”

Buck always looks at Eddie and grins sheepishly, and it’s sweet and adorable and so completely Buck that Eddie feels himself light up. He always makes sure to look right back at Buck and smile, to laugh just as loudly as him and Christopher, because even though they talked about the whole basketball game he knows Buck still needs reassurance every now and then that things are good. Eddie wishes he could press that knowledge into Buck’s very being, that no matter what he’ll always love him. There’s nothing Buck could ever do that would make Eddie love him less.

And how that’s true about everybody in Buck’s life. Christopher, Maddie, Bobby, all of them, are there for life. Buck is so loved and Eddie truly wished he knew that, that he’d know he doesn’t have to be afraid of losing any of them. Ever.

But he also knows what it is to feel so intensely that it gets out of control because he loves Buck like that, like he could throw himself against a goddamn brick wall for the love of him. Just somewhere to put all of that feeling, all of that love that’s too much to bear. Sometimes when he sees Buck and Tommy together, when he sees them kiss or show that easy affection they have with one another, he wants to just run at them and push them apart. He feels so stupid about it too, how the urge builds up in him like he’s a toddler in the throes of a temper tantrum. But it’s all so much.

Buck is just so goddamn much.

So he crosses his arms, or shoves his hands in his pockets, or finds something else of Buck’s he can take for himself. He knows he’s going to get caught soon, he has to, he’s taking too many things, Buck’s going to start to notice. He started out small, with the fortune, a flower from the bouquet Tommy gave him just because, a post-it note to remind himself to pay his electric bill, but now he’s taking things Buck will one hundred percent miss. Especially those things from Christopher, or associated with Christopher, because Buck hoards them like treasure, just like Eddie does, and he’s so fucking stupid for taking them.

But he can’t stop.

He just wants him back so badly.

And he does get caught, just not by Buck.

By Tommy.

At a Thursday basketball game of all places, because of course, why not?

They’re done playing and are just sitting on the grass next to the court cooling down and talking. Tommy finishes his bottle of water and flops down onto his back, and because he’s no longer face to face with him Eddie feels the need to torture himself and asks how things are going with Buck.

“Oh man, things are going great. Evan’s so amazing, but you already know that.”

Eddie just sort of grunts in response. He fully anticipated that exact answer, but somehow he thought maybe Tommy would say, “terrible, we’re breaking up, can’t wait to do it.”

He’s fucking delusional.

“It’s been what? Five months?”

As if Eddie doesn’t know it’s been five months and four days since Buck looked at him in his loft and said, “It was a date.”

Each day the number increases, and the month, the week, the exact day, rings around in his head like three minutes and seventeen seconds.

“Yeah. About that long.”

Eddie rubs his sweaty hands over his shorts. “Getting serious, huh?”

Why does he do this?

Tommy doesn’t answer him right away. Eddie can feel his stare burning into the side of his head though, but he refuses to look at him, he just stays facing away and looks up at the sky, at the court, at anything other than Tommy.

“I’d love it if that were the case,” Tommy finally says. “In another life, maybe.”

“Another life?” Eddie frowns and finally half turns his head towards Tommy.

“One where I could fall in love with Evan so easily. I’d be fucking head over heels for that ridiculous idiot,” he says, then pauses for a bit and continues slowly like Eddie is an idiot too, which he is. “But not in this one.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie twists around then, looks straight at Tommy. “You could love Buck. Could? How could you not lo–”

Love him.

Love him and love him and love him.

Eddie stops himself from saying it but the way Tommy is looking back at him he knows it doesn’t fucking matter that he stopped, he heard it loud and clear anyway.

“We’ve had fun, Eddie, and it’s been wonderful to see him wake up to everything that he is, but we were never in this for the long-haul.”

“Does Buck know that? Does he know you’re not all in? Because Buck is all in, he’s always all in. He’s going to be hurt– you’re going to hurt him. I can’t–”

“Evan knows,” Tommy interrupts him.

“Are you sure?” Eddie demands. “He always says what he thinks people want to hear, he’s always doing that. He’s so irritating.”

“Eddie, he knows.”

He must look like he doesn’t believe him because Tommy keeps talking.

“I’m just out of a long-term relationship, and Evan’s just starting. We both know where we stand. It’s been amazing, and I love the hell outta him, but it’s not a build a life together love. He’s already got that.”

Eddie feels his shoulders tense and heat flush over his face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He knows he sounds stupidly belligerent, but he can’t help it.

Tommy just looks at him, eyebrow raised.

“What?”

He lets Eddie stew in it for a few more seconds before answering.

“Eddie, where’s Evan’s favorite pair of socks?”

“What? I don’t know. How’d I know that?”

“Or the sloth magnet from his fridge?”

Eddie shrugs. “I dunno. Buck’s a mess. He loses things all the time.”

“I suppose so.”

The, ‘but we both know that’s bullshit,’ is heavily implied.

Eddie turns away from Tommy again. He’s been caught out and he fucking hates it. How do you even explain yourself when you’re doing something so incredibly stupid and unexplainable?

He rolls his shoulders and tries to relax his muscles. He’s usually so loose after a game, muscles warm and used, but he’s strung so damn tight right now he knows he’s going to snap if Tommy says another word. Everything’s going to come spilling out and he just sits there in his anxiety and panic waiting for it to happen.

“He’ll figure it out eventually,” Tommy says quietly as he sits up and tries to get Eddie to look at him. His voice is horribly kind and Eddie knows that’s the last straw.

“It’s just that. I just. I’m losing him, piece by piece, and I’m panicking. I don’t know– I don’t know what to do,” Eddie blurts out in a rush. “One day I woke up and he was gone. None of his stupid socks were in my drawer, there were no stacks of books I’d never read because he tells me the whole entire book anyway, but Christopher does. Christopher reads them. And they’re gone. I don’t even know when his dentist appointment was, he was due one. Did he go? Do you know? He always forgets the dentist. He hates the dentist. I have to make the appointments for him, but I didn’t this time. Do you know, did he remember? It’s always on my calendar–”

“Eddie.”

“So I’m taking things. I don’t know why,” Eddie just keeps barreling on even though he knows Tommy’s looking at him like he needs to bundle him into his truck and take him straight to the nearest therapist, and he’s not wrong. He’s not wrong. “No, that’s a lie. I do know. I know exactly what I’m doing. I just want him back and so I’m taking what I can get. I know what it looks like. I know. But I’m doing it anyway. I need him back.”

“Eddie,” Tommy says again, more firmly. “I didn’t mean he’d figure out it was you taking things.”

Eddie’s in the middle of a confusion induced trauma. He’s relieved to have said everything out loud, but he was rambling and panicked and now Tommy’s said he wasn’t even talking about all the things Eddie’s stolen and just confessed to and he’s absolutely fucking lost right now. The thread of the whole entire conversation has unraveled completely.

“What?”

“I said I wasn’t implying Evan would figure out about all of the– theft? Which now that I know the why I guess I sorta understand, even though it’s a bit–”

“Crazy?”

“Much. I was going to say much,” Tommy says kindly.

“Yeah, well. What d’you know?” Eddie tries to joke.

“What I know is that Evan will figure it out, not about your whole reverse penguin pebbles thing you’ve got going on, but about how he loves you.”

Eddie’s gone speechless, why he couldn’t have gone speechless before now is the real fucking question, but he must look so entirely idiotic because Tommy gets a look on his face like he can’t believe he’s dealing with the levels of bullshit he’s dealing with right now.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie, you’re his build a life together love. I kinda assumed my embarrassingly heavy-handed implication was picked up, but apparently not.”

“But you kissed him,” Eddie says inanely.

“I did. Because that sweet little idiot was confused as hell, and really fucking cute, and I figured I’d shoot my shot. But I knew from the start I was just the beginning stretch of his journey. You’re the long-haul, man.”

“He’s so happy though. With you. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

“Because he’s finally figured some shit out. He’s relieved. He’s diving into that missing part of himself and loving every minute, I just get to share that with him for now. Besides, if he’s this happy with me, think about what he’ll be like with you. He’ll be fucking estatic. He’ll probably need to be sedated.”

“I need to be sedated.”

“Clearly. You two are a match made in heaven.”

Eddie laughs. He has to, because of course Buck’s loved him all along. Of course they’ve been building a life together, they have been for years. It’s why his house no longer feels like a home with Buck missing from it, because he’s burrowed himself in so deeply. Buck’s always left pieces of himself behind, a trail of breadcrumbs leading Eddie and Christopher back to him.

Always back to him.

“Having a moment, are we?” Tommy asks.

“Maybe a little one.”

Tommy just shakes his head and chuckles as he lays back down on the grass, hands behind his head. Eddie sits there and wonders how the hell he’s survived thirty plus years of life without his own kid and fucking Tommy Kinard holding his hand through all of his big-time life revelations.

It’s goddamn embarrassing is what it is.

“Maybe just give me a couple of days to break things off with Evan before you propose and shit,” Tommy jokes, eyes closed and not even looking at Eddie. “Maybe take a breath or two first, and let him do the same.”

“I’m not going to propose. Jesus.”

He would though.

He’d totally propose.

But maybe an emergency therapy session first.

Eddie gives it a week.

Even after Tommy texted him a couple days after their basketball confessional.

call Evan

I honestly can’t believe I’m the one who has to keep telling you two idiots to call each other

seriously

it’s embarrassing for everyone involved

but mainly you two I’m just embarrassed for you

He manages to get through three shifts and two therapy sessions before showing up at Buck’s door with a box and a prayer.

Buck grins at him when he opens the door and sees him standing there holding the box.

“Are you moving in? Did Chris finally kick you out?”

“Not yet,” he says as he walks in and sets the box down on Buck’s dining room table. “And I hope when he does he’ll let me take a little more than just this with me.”

“Dunno, Eds, your kid’s brutal.”

All Eddie can think is, our kid. Ours.

“So, what’s in the box?”

“Hm?”

“The box? What’s in it?” Buck repeats, then grins. “What’s in the booox–”

“Don’t you dare do a Brad Pitt impression.” Eddie points at him and glares.

Buck laughs at him. “Seriously though, what’s in the box?”

“Before I show you I want to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

Eddie’s standing next to the table and he puts his hand on the box, taps it with his fingers, and Buck just looks at him expectantly. God, how does he even start this? He’s thought about it all week, but now that he’s here there are literally zero thoughts in his head.

“Are you okay? With Tommy, I mean.”

Buck crosses his arms and leans against the kitchen island. He nods with a faint smile on his face.

“You know what? I think I am,” he says with a bit of amazement in his voice. “I’ve never been okay with a break-up. I’m not sure how to handle this.”

“Is this some sort of personal growth happening here?”

Buck laughs. “I think so.”

“Well, it looks good on you.”

“Thanks.”

Buck’s eyes go soft and Eddie’s not quite sure what to do now.

“I really am okay, though,” Buck says, preventing Eddie from having to say something. “We had an unbelievable time together, and we left off as friends. We just had this really great talk and things are good. Really good. I dunno, I just feel light. Does that even make sense?”

“I think it makes perfect sense.”

“I’ve been searching my whole life - for love, for family, for more of just something that’s been unknown to me. At least it was for the longest time, and then Tommy kissed me and I had an actual, honest to god, oh moment. My chest just filled up with air and I could breathe, y’know?”

“I do,” Eddie says quietly. “I’ve had a couple of those oh moments recently. Maybe too many, too quickly - had to talk to Frank again.”

Buck stands up straighter. “Are you okay?”

Eddie closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then just says what he means, says the quiet part out loud.

“Yeah, I am, now that I’m here with you.”

“You know I’m always here for you–”

“No, I mean it in the way that you make everything easier. I can breathe around you, and there hasn’t been much in my life that’s made it easier for me to breathe in any way. Christopher, Shannon in the good times, and you.”

“Eddie,” Buck steps closer. “It’s you and Chris for me too.”

“At least until you told me you and Tommy were on a date.”

Buck takes a startled step back, eyes going so hurt so quickly that Eddie can’t speak for a second, can’t explain himself.

“I thought you were okay with me being bi, you said you were.”

“I am okay with it,” he says in a rush, “Totally okay with it, Buck, I swear.”

“I don’t understand–”

“I know, I’m not making sense, just,” Eddie opens the box and shoves it at him. “Here.”

Buck leans over the box and looks inside.

“My bracelet from Jee,” he says as reaches in and pulls it out. “And Chris’ basketball, my book, and socks– Eddie, what is this? Why do you have a box full of my stuff?”

Eddie sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “Because I’m an idiot?”

“Seriously, are you a secret kleptomaniac or something? Are you confessing to something? Because if you are, maybe you should do it to Athena instead.”

Eddie just laughs. “God, I wish I were a kleptomaniac, that’d be easier to say.”

“You’re kinda worrying me here, Eddie.”

Buck looks so concerned, so worried for him. He’s staring back at him with wide, troubled eyes and fuck Eddie loves him.

“One day, a few weeks after you started dating Tommy, I went to the kitchen and noticed you hadn’t written anything on the white erase calendar. Nothing. It was all my handwriting and I just– god. It was like I was in the wrong kitchen. I looked in the fridge and there were no leftovers you’d made, none of your gross oat milk, and I. I dunno. It was like my entire world was off-balanced. And then I was folding clothes one night and there were none of your clothes to fold, there wasn’t a Buck pile. There’s always a me pile, a Chris pile, and a Buck pile. But there wasn’t and then Chris asked to go to the library.”

“Well he tends to do that seeing as how he loves to read.”

“No, no he doesn’t. Not the public library. Yeah, he gets books at his school library but you always give him so many books that between the two we’ve never had to go. He asked though, and I looked around and the bookshelves were half empty because we donated a bunch and you hadn’t brought any new ones over.”

“I’ll bring Chris some books, I promise. I have a whole stack for him, I can–”

“Buck,” Eddie interrupts. “It’s not about the books themselves, it’s the fact that you hadn’t been there to bring them. I looked all around the house and you’d disappeared and I didn’t know when. I didn’t know when it happened and everything was wrong.”

Eddie knows his voice is going into panic-mode right now and Buck looks like he’s about to push him to sit down in a chair to calm the fuck down, but he has to say everything right now or it’s all going to be such a mess, so he reaches out and grabs both of Buck’s hands and holds on tight.

“For six years it’s been you, me, and Chris, and when it wasn’t it wasn’t my home anymore. And I realized it was you, it was always you that made me love this life I’ve built here with Chris, and I think - no, I know - I panicked. I started to take things of yours, all those things in the box, because I wanted you back. I needed you back. Whatever small piece I could grab I brought it home and stuck it in a drawer, or put it on the bookshelf, just to try to make things feel right again.”

“Eddie,” Buck squeezes his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, look at what I did when I felt you slipping away. I nearly broke your damn ankle and now Chris is never going to let me live it down. You do not want to be on Christopher’s hit list, Eds, let me tell you.”

Eddie bursts out laughing, a bit too loud, and before he can stop himself he just blurts his whole goddamn heart out.

“God, I love you. So much. You make me crazy with it, I can’t even contain all of it. It’s overwhelming and just this beautiful thing I get to have. I get to love you, Evan. I love you and I steal things,” Eddie laughs again, he can’t help himself. “And it took our kid telling me he was happy Marisol didn’t move in because if there ever was going to be three of us again it was always going to be with you and I mean of course it was. Of course. And I know you just broke things off with Tommy, who, by the way, also gave me a come to Jesus moment and I honestly don’t know how I’ve managed this far on my own because, my god, do I need help, but that’s not the main issue here, the main issue is you. It’s you, and I love you, and I know there was Tommy but I’m just really hoping after you have some time you could maybe come back home?”

“You love me? Eddie–”

“I’m rambling.”

“No, I. Well, yes, you are, but you love me.”

“I do.”

Eddie’s eyes are locked on Buck’s face and he can see everything, the moment his eyes flash bright right before he closes them and his entire face slides down into a perfect, happy sigh. His shoulders drop and he takes a breath and Eddie’s never seen him look so beautiful because he’s glowing, that fucking glow he thought was because of Tommy that he hated in that dark, mean place inside of him, is right there in front of him.

And it’s his.

If he thought it hurt to look at him before he’s like the goddamn sun right now.

A bright, burning sun just for him.

“I love you,” he says again, soft and quiet, and Buck opens his eyes and smiles.

“I love you too.”

Eddie leans into him and rests his forehead against Buck’s, breathes in and out with him.

“And I promise to stop stealing all your stuff.”

A puff of laughter ghosts across Eddie’s lips.

“Unless it’s my heart, am I right?”

Eddie can feel Buck waggling his eyebrows against his forehead and he wants to laugh because Buck’s so fucking stupid, but he’s not going to give him the satisfaction, so he kisses him instead.

It’s soft, so soft, and slow, and oh god, this. This is what it’s supposed to be like. This. He never knew. And he tries to lock every second of it in his head because it’s the last first kiss he’s ever going to have and he wants to tell Buck when they’re ninety that he remembers every single thing about it. The taste of him, the way his breath hitched and his lips parted just right, and how he knew he’d remember it until the day he died.

When the kiss ends they just breathe against each other’s lips, give each other time to come down a bit from the beautiful high of it.

“Don’t ever make that joke again, I beg you,” Eddie whispers against Buck’s mouth.

Buck laughs and presses another kiss to Eddie’s lips.

“I promise,” he says. “Besides, I won’t get a chance to make it again since you won’t have to steal my stuff anymore because it’ll already be home.”

Eddie closes his eyes and breathes.

Yes, it will.