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"Dad?"
"Yeah, bud?" Eddie looks up from his iPad where he's trying to plan out a hiking route to do with Buck on their next set of days off. Despite cohabitating, it's been a while since they did something just the two of them.
Christopher is hovering in the hallway, his phone clutched in one hand, his eyes darting anxiously between the lit screen and Eddie.
"Would it be okay if Max came over?" Chris asks hesitantly, his attention still half on his phone.
"It's a little late," Eddie comments, noting that it's already after ten. He doesn't say no though, because he can immediately tell something's up.
"I know." Chris nods. "It's just, uh..." he trails off and his gaze returns to his phone as he quickly types something out.
"What's going on?" Eddie asks, apprehension growing as he flips the cover on his iPad and sets it down.
"Well, Max just came out to their parents," Chris explains. "And it didn't go well."
Eddie takes a moment to process that sentence. Max and Chris have been close friends for a few years now, 'they' is not the pronoun he's used to hearing accompany Max's name.
"Right, okay." Eddie pushes himself up from the couch and moves to pick up his car keys. "Of course they can come over. Where are we picking them up?"
Christopher's eyes widen for a moment and he stares at Eddie. "Uh, they're just - just at their house I think."
"Alright." Eddie nods. "Get your shoes on."
On the drive over to Max's house, Chris explains that Max's mom is 'cool about everything' but she's a nurse who works the night shift and things had gone quickly downhill with Max's dad after she left for the night.
"What kind of problems was their dad causing?" Eddie asks, his own parental instincts immediately flaring. He's not above getting involved himself if necessary, or calling in his enormous best friend for back up, or the much smaller, but honestly more intimidating, Athena Grant.
"I'm not really sure." Chris shrugs. "I think he was just saying some messed up stuff. Not, like, anything aggressive, just being a dick."
Eddie nods and lets Christopher's word choice slide. Sounds like Max's dad is a dick.
"Well that's still not good," Eddie replies, jaw clenched.
There are few things Eddie finds worse than parents who don't accept their children, regardless of the circumstance. He's of the belief that when you become a parent, you sign up for one thing and one thing only, to love your kid unconditionally. Whatever they do, whoever they are, that doesn't stop. Ever.
Eddie's run into his fair share of parents that don't uphold that same belief, from those who are apathetic and neglectful, to those who are overly involved and controlling, both ends of the spectrum entirely missing the point.
On the job he's encountered terrible family situations, seen things that sometimes make his skin crawl and his stomach churn. Things that compel him to hug Christopher just a little tighter when he comes home after.
As someone who didn't plan on being a dad, who was not prepared in the slightest - hell, Eddie was still a kid when he found out he was going to be a parent - he didn't have much to go on from the start. His own parents ... well, Eddie certainly didn't want to raise anyone the way he had been raised.
He remembers a conversation, years ago, with his Tia Pepa. She'd flown out for Shannon's baby shower when Eddie was still in basic training before he'd been deployed. It was one of the rare occasions he'd been able to come home over the weekend. He'd sat beside Shannon with his spine ramrod straight and his palms sweating and a sense of terror hanging over his head that he hadn't managed to shake ever since he saw that little blue plus sign on a plastic stick a matter of months before.
Tia Pepa had taken him aside after, insisting she needed Eddie's help carrying some things back to her car. But, like always, she had the ability to see what Eddie was trying so hard not to show.
"Relax, Edmundo. Take a breath," Tia Pepa said, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I can hear you overthinking from here." She'd tapped a knuckle against his temple and Eddie huffed a soft, self conscious laugh.
"I don't know what I'm doing, Tia," Eddie confessed, slumping back against the side of her car.
"Yes you do," she asserted firmly. "You're good with children and you know how to raise them." She gestured over to where Adriana and Sophia stood on the porch with Shannon.
Eddie shook his head. "That's not the same," he argued. "My parents -"
"You and I both know you did more than your fair share raising your sisters, Eddie. And look at them now, they've turned out just fine."
Eddie nodded, watching as Sophia laughed quietly with Shannon over some joke he wasn't close enough to overhear. His sister turned and caught his eye and waved. Eddie waved back, a small, fond smile on his lips.
"Of course they did," Eddie conceded. "But that's just how they are. They're incredible."
"They are," Tia Pepa agreed. "And a part of the reason they've turned out that way is because of how much you loved them, don't sell yourself short." She squeezed Eddie's shoulder a little more firmly.
"It's not the same though," Eddie repeated, glancing down as he shuffled his feet against the gravel of the driveway.
"Maybe not." Pepa inclined her head. "But the principle is the same. Children need love, the rest will come to you. When you love someone you care for them. You might not always succeed at doing the right thing, or making the correct decisions right away, but it compels you to strive for it. Always. You have so much heart, Edmundo, it's what makes you strong. No matter how many obstacles this world throws at you, I've never seen you back down or give up. You fight for the people you love. You keep trying. I know you'll do the same for your son."
Eddie swallowed, disregarding the stinging in his eyes as the dry Texan summer heat. He didn't believe her. As sincere and universally correct as Tia Pepa tended to be, Eddie couldn't bring himself to believe that it could be that straightforward.
Nearly fifteen years later, Eddie finds that she was right about all of it. He doesn't get it right all the time, God and probably half of Los Angeles knows that by now, but he doesn't give up. He loves Christopher, which means he'll never stop trying. He’ll never stop trying to be the kind of father he deserves.
He falls short. Eddie's pretty sure he falls short every single day, but that just spurs him on, gives him that extra kick of motivation to get out of bed every day ready to learn from his mistakes and, inevitably, find a new, creative way to fail. But he doesn't give up. Eddie is intimately familiar with what it's like to have a father that doesn't even care to try - or only does when it's years after his effort was needed - Christopher can never know that pain. So Eddie loves his son as hard as he possibly can and hopes and prays that the rest will fall into place.
On days like today, when Eddie sees the caring, compassionate man Christopher is growing into, he thinks that maybe he isn't doing too bad. He's raised someone empathetic and kind, someone who wants to help his friends, someone who wants to be there for the people he cares about. Eddie hopes that maybe Christopher learned that loving someone means showing up for them because of the example Eddie has tried so hard to set. Maybe tonight he isn't a failure.
Sometimes, when Eddie looks at Chris, at the kind of person he's becoming, it's hard to punish himself. It's hard to feel like too much of a fuck up when there's an incredible, inspiring individual sitting next to him, and even a fraction of that is because of Eddie.
"Hey," Eddie says, reaching out to lay a hand on Christopher's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, son."
"Oh," Chris breathes, turning his head to peer at Eddie through his glasses. "Uh, thanks, Dad."
"Course." Eddie pats his shoulder firmly before returning both hands to the steering wheel. "You're a good friend."
Christopher ducks his head and shrugs in that awkward, self conscious way he's taken to doing since his age started ending in 'teen'.
"It's not a big deal, it's just what anyone would do," he mumbles.
"No," Eddie disagrees. "It's not what anyone would do. It's what anyone should do," he corrects. "But unfortunately there are a lot of people in the world who only care about themselves and their own experiences and can't put themselves into someone else's shoes, or look at how they're hurting and want to help."
"I guess that's true," Chris concedes, looking down at his hands in his lap. "It shouldn't really be that way though."
"No, it shouldn't," Eddie agrees. "But it's something you can do and I think it's pretty admirable."
"Dad, it's fine," Chris huffs, shifting uncomfortably. "Don't make a big deal."
Eddie chuckles fondly, shaking his head a little. "Sorry I can't do that. My kid is growing up into this really great person and that's sort of a big deal for me."
"Okay, okay. Just get it all out of your system before we pick up Max, you're being all sappy and embarrassing."
"Deal." Eddie throws Chris a grin that gets a small, hesitant, lopsided smile in return. He'll take it.
The tone shifts significantly when they get to Max's house. They're sitting on their driveway, leaning against the garage door, knees pulled up to their chest, backpack resting beside them on the concrete.
"Did you want me to wait in the car?" Eddie asks, shutting the engine off. Christopher nods and gets quietly out of the passenger seat.
Eddie waits for a couple minutes, watching as Max stands up and pulls Christopher into a hug. They exchange a few words before Max hoists their bag over their shoulder and follows Chris to the car.
"Hi Max," Eddie says as both kids climb into the back seat.
"Hi Mr. Diaz," Max replies, sounding more subdued than Eddie is used to hearing them. They're usually a pretty bubbly kid. "Thanks for coming to pick me up so late."
"Not a problem," Eddie assures them, turning in his seat to offer them a smile. "You know you're always welcome at our house."
Max nods and swallows, averting their gaze as they click their seatbelt in. Eddie can tell they've been crying.
"You got everything you need?" Eddie asks.
Max nods but looks a little hesitant.
"If there's something else you want to take you can let me know what it is and I can go in and grab it from your dad," Eddie offers.
Max shakes their head as if on autopilot, without even considering the possibility. Eddie recognizes that, the impulse not to cause any inconvenience, not to put anyone else out of their way by asking for help.
"Okay," Eddie says, turning back to face the front. "If you think of anything, just let me know. I'm sure Chris has stuff you can borrow and we can always run to the store."
"Thanks, Mr. Diaz."
"I have told you you can just call me Eddie, haven't I?" Eddie double checks. "Mr. Diaz makes me sound kinda old."
"Right, yeah." Max ducks their head. "Thanks, Eddie."
Eddie smiles at them again, this time through the rear view mirror. "Of course."
As Eddie navigates back to South Bedford Street, Chris and Max talk quietly in the back seat and Eddie turns on the radio to low and rolls down his window in an attempt not to overhear. He knows if he was a fourteen-year-old in distress he probably wouldn't want his best friend's dad listening to whatever he was experiencing about it.
When they get home, Eddie helps set up the air mattress in Christopher's room. It's a school night, but he foregoes a warning about bedtimes. If Max needs to stay up and talk, Eddie knows that Christopher will listen, no matter what he says and there's a small, warm burst of pride in his chest knowing that.
"Do you have everything you need for the night?" Eddie asks after grabbing a set of towels for Max and showing them where all the toiletries in the bathroom are stored.
"Yeah." Max nods. "I'm all set."
"Good, okay." Eddie sets his hands on his hips and tries to think of anything else he should say.
Max has already called their mom to let her know where they are. She had insisted on talking to Eddie, thanked him profusely, and proceeded to say some extremely choice words about her husband in his ear that had Eddie fighting the urge to ask why she hadn't considered divorce yet.
Since Max and Chris go to the same school and have all the same classes, their schedule for the next day is fairly straight forward. They'll simply be dropped off and picked up with Chris.
There's a bit of an awkward pause, Max politely waiting for Eddie to finish speaking before returning to Christopher's room.
"Uh," Eddie clears his throat. "I know it might be kind of cringe or something coming from your friend's dad, but you did a pretty brave thing today, so, good job. I'm sorry it didn't go so well, but that's not your fault at all," he tells them sincerely. "You did good," he finishes, internally kicking himself for how disjointed that undoubtedly sounded.
Max looks a little surprised for a moment and then their expression softens into something genuinely touched. "Thanks, that's actually - uh - really nice to hear coming from an adult. My dad said I was just making it all up and then it made me kinda feel like maybe it wasn't a big deal and I was just making everyone's lives harder for nothing or something."
"Hey, no." Eddie shakes his head. "You're not making anyone's life harder by just being who you are. If he can't accept that, then that's his own problem, but having the strength to stand up for yourself is never a mistake or an inconvenience. It's not - you shouldn't ever feel bad about that." For a second time, Eddie feels like he's articulating himself far less eloquently than he would like. He feels vastly out of his depth here.
"You really think that?" Max asks tentatively.
Eddie nods. "I really do."
"Okay." Max takes a deep breath. "Thanks," they repeat. "Seriously. That's, like, really nice to hear actually."
"Good." Eddie hopes the smile he offers is reassuring. "Okay, well." He claps his hands together. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. There's lots of snacks in the fridge and pantry," he waves vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. "You already know where everything is. You're welcome to whatever you want. No need to ask. And, this goes without saying, but you're welcome to stay here for as long as you need, so don't even worry about that. We'll - we can coordinate with your mom, and, yeah, just whatever you need."
"Thank you again, really," Max says adamantly. "I just, I have no idea how I can thank you and Chris enough, you're both being so - so nice about all of this and -"
"Hey," Eddie cuts them off before they can spiral too far, seeing the tell tale signs of tears beginning to well in their eyes. "I'm serious, don't worry about it. That's just what friends are for, yeah?"
"Okay." Max sniffs and wipes at their nose before nodding again. "Yeah, okay."
Eddie follows Max down the hall to Christopher's doorway. "You two have a good night," he says.
"Goodnight, Dad." Chris looks up from where he's sitting at the edge of his bed, already in his pajamas. "Love you."
"Love you too, bud."
-
Thanks to close to a decade and a half of parenthood, and even longer than that of jobs that require Eddie to be on alert at the drop of a hat, he's a fairly light sleeper. Sometime after midnight, he hears someone shuffling around in the kitchen and gets up to go investigate.
When Eddie makes it to the kitchen, he sees Max's slight frame silhouetted against the kitchen window.
"Hey," Eddie whispers, before flicking on the small light over the stove, hoping not to startle them.
"Oh my god!" Max jumps. "Shit - oh sorry - I mean, you scared me."
"Sorry," Eddie laughs softly. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you, I was just coming to get some water."
"Yeah." Max gestures to the cup sitting beside them on the counter. "Me too."
There's a beat of silence as Eddie fills up his own glass and takes a drink. "Couldn't sleep?" he asks.
Max shakes their head. "Sorry if I woke you."
"Nah," Eddie shrugs dismissively. "I'm always up in the middle of the night for work. I can almost never sleep through." Which is true enough.
Max visibly relaxes. "Oh, okay, good."
"You want some juice?" Eddie asks, crossing over to the fridge. "When Chris was little and couldn't sleep after he had nightmares I used to pour him a glass of juice," he explains, opening the fridge to poke around through their selection.
"Uh," Max hesitates for a moment. "Yeah, actually, that would be nice. Do you have Apple?"
"Yup." Eddie nods his confirmation. "Coming right up."
Max laughs softly and takes a seat at the kitchen table while Eddie pours two glasses of juice.
"Thanks," they murmur as Eddie slides one of the cups across the table and takes a seat across from them.
Another couple minutes of silence pass as they sip their respective glasses. In the dim light from the stove, Eddie can see that Max's eyes are puffy and he wonders if that's still from earlier or if they were crying again. It makes his chest ache.
There's something about this kid that reminds Eddie, uncannily, of himself at that age. He knows that Max has a younger sibling, he knows that they play on the school baseball team, so maybe Eddie's just projecting, but he sees the kind of quiet tentativeness he possessed at that age. Although he also sees a comfortableness with themself that he never possessed as a kid, maybe still doesn't fully possess, even at 33.
"Can I tell you something sort of weird?" Max eventually breaks the silence, tapping their painted fingernails against the side of their glass.
"Sure," Eddie agrees, not entirely sure what to expect.
"You're one of the people that made me feel okay with all this." They gesture to themself. "Like, coming out, and stuff."
"Me?" Eddie asks, surprised. "Why?"
"I dunno." Max shrugs. "I guess you just always made it seem so normal."
Eddie doesn't respond for a moment, turning the sentiment over and over in his brain, trying to parse out what it could mean.
Sure, he's always taught Christopher to be accepting of everyone, and has tried to set a good example when it comes to accepting people for who they are, but he doesn't understand how that would be anything particularly significant to Max.
"I don't really know what the deal is exactly with Chris' other dad," Max goes on. "It seems like you're sort of on and off, sorry if that's not something you want to talk about," they apologize quickly.
Eddie is too stunned to say anything so he just shakes his head and says, "no, not at all," and inclines his head for them to continue.
"But you've always co-parented pretty seamlessly, at least since I've been around, and I know that you and Chris lost his mom when he was super young, so it's nice that you guys make an effort so that he still has two parents, you know?"
Eddie blinks several times and nods mutely.
"I guess you just always made it seem like it wasn't a big deal," Max explains. "Being queer, I mean, it was just like a fact of life. You're still just like a normal person with a normal job and a normal family, and so, I don't know, I guess it just made me think it could be like that for me too one day. Like even though there's this thing about me that's different from other people, it's still just okay."
Eddie really needs to say something. Max is being vulnerable, which Eddie recognizes is difficult at the best of times. They are trusting him with something deeply personal that's also strangely flattering even if it is wildly incorrect. He's just so stuck on the whole being perceived as some sort of gay role model for one of his son's friends thing that his brain is short circuiting.
"Of course it's okay," Eddie says, forcing his response to come out even. "It doesn't matter who you are, you still deserve to have all of that stuff, a - a loving family and fulfilling life and everything." That doesn't feel too off base, but he feels sort of bad for not correcting them. Like he's taking credit for something he doesn't deserve. But trying to explain to a 14-year-old whatever him and Buck have going on would probably only complicate this conversation.
What could he even say? 'No, Buck and I aren't together but he practically co-parents my kid and we currently sleep in the same bed and when I left him it felt like a piece of my soul was torn out and left across the country?'
For a long time now, friendship has seemed like a term that's too reductive to encompass the breadth of what Buck is to him. Buck is his friend, he's his best friend, but he's so much more than that. They're partners in all the ways that matter. They share a house and a kid and a bond that Eddie's never been able to come close to forging with anyone else.
"My dad's always been pretty traditional," Max explains. "In the super outdated 'boys should do these things and girls should do these things' sort of way."
"I'm familiar with that way of thinking," Eddie commiserates.
"So I think being nonbinary is like a completely foreign concept to him, and I expected that, but I just didn't think he'd straight up reject it?" Max frowns, their expression pinched with hurt and confusion. "And then he got so mad and he just kept saying stuff about how I was stupid for even thinking that and how could I ever expect people to accept it." Max cuts themself off and quickly takes a drink of juice, obviously trying to stave off tears.
"That's not true," Eddie says earnestly. "It's certainly not stupid and you should always be accepted for who you are, especially by your parents."
Max sniffles. "Yeah," they agree quietly. "I just - I knew he wouldn't get it but I hoped he would maybe try?"
"He should have," Eddie replies with conviction. "More than that. It doesn't matter if he understood or not, he should accept you anyway, without question, and deal with his ignorance on his own time. It's our job as parents to learn about the things our kids experience. So that's not on you."
Max is looking down at the table now and Eddie watches as a tear drops down onto the smooth wooden surface. "I think you're a good dad," Max comments, voice a little shaky.
"I try to be," Eddie admits. "Christopher deserves a good parent, but so do you, so I'm really sorry your dad isn't being that for you right now. But it seems like your mom is?"
Max looks up at Eddie then, their mouth shaping into a small smile despite the tears still shining in their eyes. "Yeah." They nod. "She is. When - when I told her, she said she was really proud of me and that…" Max trails off again and wipes at their eyes, though this show of emotion seems more related to overwhelm than distress. "She said she could always tell that there was something different about me and that it was good to see me figure it out because she thought I seemed happier."
"That's really good." Eddie nods encouragingly. "I'm glad you have her."
"Me too," Max agrees quietly. "I don't know what's going to happen with my dad, but she makes me feel like it's all going to be okay."
"That's good. I'm sure she'll be able to help you figure it out and, until then," Eddie adds. "You've got us."
"Yeah." Max's smile widens a little. "I really appreciate that."
Eddie smiles back.
"I knew I was making a good choice when I picked Christopher as my best friend in fifth grade," Max remarks, voice lighter, and Eddie laughs.
"Yeah, I think you made the best choice, but hey, I might be biased."
"Eh." Max waves a dismissive hand. "I think you're allowed. He's kind of the best."
"He is," Eddie agrees.
Max finishes their drink and returns to Christopher's room to go to sleep for the night shortly after, but Eddie remains at the kitchen table. He sits and stares at his own, half full glass of juice. His gaze falls on the pictures and magnets on the fridge, and even though he can't make out the details in the low light, he knows exactly what they all are. Pictures of him and Chris and Buck. Magnets from zoo trips and road trips, partially collected by Buck. This week’s grocery list, half in his own neat hand writing and half in Buck’s near-illegible scrawl that Eddie’s never had a problem deciphering.
Like the rest of their lives, their fridge decor is jumbled together, a bunch of incongruent pieces coming together to make a whole, to paint a picture of something complete.
Eddie picks up his glass and thinks about joy. He thinks about denial. He thinks about the overwhelming awe he felt when Buck moved in so that he could go to Christopher. He thinks about the way it felt like ripping himself in two to leave for Texas. He thinks about how he panicked once when Ana was mistaken as Chris's mother and the way he panics now at the very idea of Buck moving out. He thinks about the kid with brilliantly purple hair, now asleep down the hall, who, for some reason, was made comfortable enough to express their true self, in part, because of spending time around their little unconventional family unit.
It all adds up to the same result. There's one equation Eddie's been struggling to solve his entire life and it might just be that he was putting in the wrong variables from the start.
The glass is cool against Eddie's lips and the juice is sweet on his tongue. It slides down his throat and he feels the chill of it in his chest, in his stomach, radiating out into his whole body. It's almost calming, how refreshing it feels to enjoy such a simple pleasure.
It's just after one when Eddie flicks off the light above the stove and goes back to his room. He climbs into bed and stares up at the ceiling. He listens to the silence of the house for a long time. He wonders when his bed started feeling empty with just one occupant.
Buck gets home around three. They're on their days off, but he'd gone in at the last minute to cover for a guy on B-shift whose wife went into labour. Eddie's awake when he comes in. He hasn't been able to fall back asleep since his conversation with Max.
Like every time he comes to bed after Eddie, Buck is quiet, moving stealthily around the room, making as little noise as possible, aware of how light Eddie sleeps.
"Hey," Eddie whispers when Buck slips into bed beside him.
"Hi, why are you up?" Buck rolls over to face him and through the darkness Eddie can just see the gleam of his eyes.
"Long night," Eddie explains. "Max is here."
"Max?"
"Christopher's friend," Eddie explains. "From the baseball team, different coloured hair every month, big fan of dinosaurs?"
"Oh, right, yeah." Buck nods in recognition.
"They came out to their family today, didn't go super smoothly with the dad. I think they're gonna stay with us for a few days," Eddie tells him. "Their mom is supportive but she's gotta figure out what to do about dad."
Buck nods again, slowly, taking in the information. "Shit that's rough, they okay though?"
"Yeah, I think they will be," Eddie says, stifling a yawn. He's surprised how fully his body has relaxed now that Buck's beside him. "They're a good kid," he goes on. "And it sounds like they've got a pretty solid support system with their other family and friends and stuff, teachers too. I talked with their mom on the phone for a bit after they got here."
"That's good." Buck sounds relieved and shuffles around a little, getting more comfortable.
"Plus," Eddie adds, pride swelling in his chest. "They've got Chris."
"Yeah," Buck agrees and Eddie can picture his fond smile even in the dark. "That is lucky. He's the best kid."
"That's what I said."
"Mm," Buck hums, starting to sound sleepy. "You're often right."
"I'll remind you of that next time we argue," Eddie laughs.
"Fuck off," Buck mumbles, and Eddie can tell his face is half smushed into his pillow.
"You said it, not me," Eddie reminds him.
"Hmm," Buck makes another, small, sleepy noise, evidently too tired to fight Eddie on it.
A comfortable quiet blankets the room for several moments, Buck and Eddie curled towards each other, breathing steadily in time.
When Eddie speaks, he isn't even sure if Buck's awake still, but it's been building on the tip of his tongue for hours and he has to get it out.
"Max thinks I'm gay."
There's a long enough pause that Eddie thinks Buck really must be asleep.
"Oh?" The sheets shift as Buck pushes himself up on his elbow. He sounds wide awake now.
"Yeah." Eddie lets out a slow breath.
"That's, uh -" Buck clears his throat. "Did you think that was weird? Getting mistaken for - for that?"
"At first maybe," Eddie says softly. "I was definitely surprised that they thought that. But it - I guess it makes sense."
"Does it?" Buck asks, voice sounding a little strained. Eddie can hear the way his breath has quickened.
"They thought you and I were together, which I can't really blame them for. Lots of people think that."
"Yeah," Buck agrees.
It's true that the two of them often get mistaken for a couple when they're out. They used to laugh about it and then Buck came out as bi and something shifted. Buck was quick to correct people where he never had been before. He always gets a little awkward with Eddie afterwards and now apologizes, like he needs to explain his way out of a stranger's assumption, as if it’s his fault.
"Buck?"
"Yeah?"
"I," Eddie takes a deep breath. "I actually think they might be onto something"
There's another long stretch of silence.
"What are you saying, Eddie?”
"I realized .... I was thinking - I think maybe I am." Eddie swallows. "Gay," he clarifies and that one word feels like a thousand pop rocks exploding on his tongue.
"Oh."
More silence. It's heavy and tense. It makes Eddie squirm.
"Okay," Buck breathes and Eddie can tell he's struggling to figure out what to say. "Well that's good. I'm proud of you and it doesn't have to cha -"
"I want to kiss you," Eddie blurts out before he can stop himself. Because apparently now that he's started admitting things, all of his best kept secrets are spilling past his lips.
Buck draws in a sharp inhale. "What?"
"That's what made me realize," Eddie explains. Suddenly the bed feels very small. Too small for two grown men. Too small to contain everything in Eddie's chest that's fighting to break loose.
"Wanting to kiss me?" Buck asks, quiet, disbelieving.
"Just you," Eddie replies, gesturing to Buck himself, even though he probably can't see it. "Just you being here, in our lives, and then it just seemed silly"
"What did?"
"That we don't talk about it." Eddie knows he's probably not making a lot of sense, because Buck sounds completely lost. But he's got too many thoughts bouncing around in his brain to be coherent.
"Talk about what?" Buck asks, and Eddie can envision the confused furrow between his brows despite not being able to see it on his face.
"How I'm in love with you," Eddie answers, like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"You're in love with me," Buck repeats, and it's less a question than it is simply a stunned echo of Eddie's own words.
"Yeah, and you know what else?"
"What?"
This is a risk, Eddie knows it's a risk. He doesn't care. He thinks about the last seven years, about a man who crawled into open gunfire for him and braved a tsunami to save his son. A man who broke down his door and patched up his walls. He thinks about 'it's me, I'm your renter.'
"I'm pretty sure you're in love with me too."
Buck doesn't even hesitate. "I am."
"Why don't we talk about it?" Eddie asks quietly.
"Didn't seem like we could." He hears the sheets shift with Buck's shrug.
"Should we start?"
"At three in the morning on a school night? Someone's got to be up to drive the kids in a couple hours," Buck reminds him.
They both know they're on the precipice of something here. Something bigger than a handful of whispered words in the dead of night.
"We don't have to talk about it now," Eddie says and it's the truth. He knows and Buck knows. It's enough to know.
"Okay." Buck's voice comes out a little shaky, a little nervous. It's overflowing with hope, the same hope that's simmering inside Eddie's chest.
It's almost enough to know.
"Can I kiss you?" The question tumbles out against Eddie's better judgment, but everything he's said in the last ten minutes has been against his better judgment and now he's on a roll.
"Will we sleep if I say yes?" Buck asks, though he's already shifted closer. Eddie clasps his hands together to keep himself from reaching out.
"I don't think we'll be able to sleep if we don't," Eddie reasons.
There's another beat of silence while Buck considers. This time the tension in the air is electric, expectant and anticipatory, buzzing between them. They aren't quite touching, but Eddie can feel the heat of Buck's body nonetheless.
"Okay," Buck agrees.
"Just once?" Eddie suggests, because as much as he'd like nothing more than to spend the rest of the night wrapped up in Buck's presence and absorbing every ounce of what they've been tiptoeing around for years, he could hear the exhaustion in Buck's voice when he returned home from his shift. Buck needs to rest and Eddie will always put that first.
"Yeah." Buck nods and he's close enough that Eddie feels his curls brush his face with the movement. "Just once."
It's slow and tentative. Eddie reaches up and across, carefully cupping the back of Buck's neck, letting his fingertips brush against soft hair, while Buck's hand finds Eddie's waist, settling lightly above his hip.
For a moment they stay like that, knees knocking and hearts pounding. Eddie strokes his thumb along the side of Buck's neck and revels in the little shudder it pulls from him. Buck's hand is heavy against his body, a warm, solid weight through the thin fabric of Eddie's t-shirt.
Leaning forward incrementally, Eddie lets his eyes fall shut. He feels the gust of Buck's nervous exhale against his chin, and then the slightly chilly bump of his nose as they collide a little off centre. It's through laughter that their lips finally meet, their smiles merging into one. The sound of their shared joy reverberates down Eddie's throat and sinks into his heart, pouring warmth throughout his entire body.
Kissing Buck is like nothing he's ever experienced before. No kiss, no touch, has ever felt like this, slow and purposeful and sweet. It's so pure. Pure like Buck's heart, like his laughter, like his ability to love so fully. Eddie adores him even more than he knew, more than he thought was possible.
"I love you," Eddie says again the moment their lips separate because he simply can't contain it.
Neither of them pulls back, remaining close enough that their foreheads rest together and the tips of their noses still brush.
"I love you," Buck mumbles and Eddie can hear the same giddy, happiness that he's feeling mirrored back at him through the barely restrained giggle in Buck's voice.
"I've wanted to kiss you for so long," Eddie sighs. "I didn't even know"
"Me too," Buck agrees, and his voice still has that light, airy quality that tells Eddie he's trying to fight back a laugh. "Well," he adds after a moment. "I knew a little bit"
"You saying you had a crush on me Buckley?" Eddie grins and nudges Buck's foot.
"You said you had one on me first," Buck argues, nudging Eddie's foot right back.
"Not true. I said I was in love with you," Eddie corrects.
"Semantics."
Eddie rolls his eyes but relents. "Okay, maybe I had a crush on you, but in my defence, I didn't know I did!"
"That's a pretty bad defence, Eddie," Buck points out. "Kinda makes you sound like an idiot," he teases.
"Well maybe I am!" Eddie retorts playfully.
"Maybe you are," Buck agrees. "But I like you anyway."
"Good. Because you're an idiot too," Eddie says, reaching down to pull Buck's hand up from his waist. He presses a kiss to the back of it. "I think I'll keep you."
Buck's breath catches audibly at that and Eddie smirks against his skin.
"You like the sound of that?" Eddie murmurs, his voice dropping flirtatiously. He has absolutely no idea what possesses him to keep talking, but he's going with it. "Being mine?"
It's not until it's out of his mouth that Eddie realizes just how suggestive that came across and, even more surprisingly, he doesn't hate it. He likes the idea of being the one to make Buck all wide-eyed and red-cheeked and flustered.
"Yeah," Buck answers quietly. "I do." He says it so simply, so easily, like being Eddie's is only natural.
"Good." Eddie whispers, turning Buck's hand to brush his lips against the inside of his wrist this time, pressing a kiss right over his pulse point. "I want to be yours too."
"Yeah?" Buck asks, breathless and hopeful. It makes Eddie ache to think that Buck would ever doubt it.
"Yes," he says with conviction. "Of course I'm yours. Couldn't be anyone else's."
"Neither could I," Buck confesses. "You're it for me, Eddie."
"You're it for me too," Eddie says, shifting his grip to hold Buck's hand between both of his own. He pulls it to his chest and holds it against his heart. "I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out."
"I don't mind," Buck says and his voice is so soft as he admits, "I would have waited forever."
"I know you would have."
And it's the truth, because Eddie knows Buck better than anyone, knows the depth of his loyalty and devotion more intimately than anyone else ever has. Buck would do anything for him and honestly Eddie isn't sure what to do with the overwhelming weight of that knowledge. He doesn't feel like he deserves it, but he's going to try. Going to spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of being in possession of something as precious as Evan Buckley's heart.
"I'm glad I don't have to though," Buck admits through a small huff of laughter.
Eddie smiles. "So am I."
There's a beat before Buck responds and Eddie realizes he's stifling a yawn.
"We should sleep," Eddie says.
"Yeah," Buck agrees reluctantly around a second, even bigger yawn, which sets Eddie off too.
They don't have to discuss it, Eddie rolls over and Buck loops his arms around Eddie’s middle and pulls him back against his chest. They fit together seamlessly, like their bodies instinctively know how to form around each other already.
It's surprisingly easy to fall asleep in Buck's arms. Within minutes Eddie's eyelids are drooping and his breath is evening out, slow and steady, matching the rise and fall of Buck's chest against his back.
Eddie runs hot, but he's shocked to find that having Buck curled protectively around him isn't the slightest bit stifling. Maybe it's because Buck always runs cold and he's absorbing all of Eddie's excess heat. Or maybe, Eddie thinks, thoughts slow and sleepy and sappy, it's just that being with Buck is so right that insignificant things like temperature simply don't matter anymore.
"Goodnight, Buck," Eddie whispers, just as he's beginning to nod off.
"Night, baby," Buck murmurs against the nape of Eddie's neck. The words are so muffled that Eddie isn't even sure he heard them right. Maybe Buck really said 'Eddie,' and it was just his own sleep-addled imagination.
Regardless, Eddie dreams about strong arms and blue eyes and Buck's voice uttering the word 'baby' in his ear like the endearment belongs to him.
-
As gently as possible, Eddie slips out of Buck's grasp mere hours later, trying his best not to wake him. Buck’s eyelids flutter anyways and he cracks one eye open and slurs a sleepy, "what's up?"
"Shh, nothing. Go back to sleep," Eddie soothes, brushing a lock of hair out of Buck's face. He mumbles something illegible and closes his eyes again.
Eddie only hesitates for a second before giving in to the impulse to bend down and press a kiss to Buck's birthmark. When he leaves the room, Buck is smiling.
Admittedly, Eddie is a little distracted while he makes breakfast. He nearly lets the peanut butter jar roll off the counter and drops the jam spoon on the ground.
"Dad?" Christopher asks, tilting his head to one side to look at Eddie who's cleaning jam off the floor with a paper towel.
"Oh, hi!" Eddie nearly jumps at the sound of his voice. "Uh, there's breakfast on the counter for you both. Peanut butter toast."
"Oh, nice! Thanks," Christopher says brightly, moving to sit down. Max is close behind him.
"Thanks for breakfast," they say politely as they take one of the plates off the counter top.
"No problem." Eddie smiles at both kids as he straightens up and brushes himself off. "Sleep okay?" he asks, moving to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee.
He receives shrugs and muttered 'yeahs' in response, in true teenager fashion.
"My mom texted me," Max announces halfway through breakfast, glancing down at their phone. "She's going to pick me up after school. We're gonna stay with my aunt for a few days."
Eddie hesitates, unsure whether or not this is good news for Max.
"That's good," Chris says enthusiastically. "Isn't your aunt the really cool one, with orange hair?"
"Yeah," Max confirms with a pleased little nod. A smile breaks across their face. "She always helps me dye my hair."
Eddie relaxes. "That's good. I'm glad you can be with your family."
Max smiles up at him. "Yeah," they agree. "Me too."
Chris and Max fall into easy conversation as they finish breakfast and Eddie mostly tunes it out, leaning back against the counter and sipping his coffee. His mind keeps wandering to the bedroom, to the image of Buck peacefully sleeping as he left, to last night and the way Buck's lips had felt against his and the way Buck's laughter had tasted on his tongue.
"Dad?"
"Hmm?" Eddie looks up to find both Chris and Max hovering in the kitchen doorway, backpacks slung over their shoulders. Eddie glances at the clock. "Oh shit," he mutters, quickly setting down his mug. He'd completely lost track of time.
There's muffled laughter from both Chris and Max.
"Neither of you heard that." Eddie points a warning finger at Chris, who just rolls his eyes.
Rush-hour on the way to school seems to take an excruciatingly long time to get through, but every time Eddie checks the time on the dash, he sees that no more time than usual has passed. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and tries to pay attention to the road instead of the warm, inviting space beside Buck waiting back in his bed.
"You got everything for the day?" Eddie double checks as both kids climb out of the car once they've finally pulled up outside the school.
"Yup." Chris nods. "All good."
"Okay. Have a good day, mijo."
"Bye, Dad!"
Max hesitates beside the open car door, after Christopher has already started walking away.
"Thanks so much for letting me stay," Max says, their voice soft and genuine.
"Of course," Eddie replies warmly. "Any time, really," he assures them. "Our home is always open."
"Thanks." Max ducks their head, the vibrant purple of their hair catching in the early morning light. "And uh, just, thanks for everything - the thing we talked about last night."
"Right." It's Eddie's turn to shyly duck his head. He still doesn't really feel like he can take credit for any of what Max said.
"Thank Buck for me too," Max adds. "I know he was asleep still when we left, but it's his house too..." they trail off with a little shrug. "And, you know, the other thing. You're both cool."
"Sure," Eddie says with a little laugh. "I'll let him know."
"Okay, bye, Mr - Eddie," Max corrects themself.
"See you later, Max." Eddie gives them a wave. "I hope everything works out with your family."
"Thanks."
"And, uh," Eddie clears his throat awkwardly. "You're doing good, kid. Keep being you. It's better that way."
Max nods, a little smile flickering over their face. "I will," they promise.
Eddie doesn't speed on his way home, but it's a near thing. He does roll one stop sign, by accident, because What I Like About You by The Romantics shuffles on in his playlist and he forgets to hit the breaks because he's hit full force with a memory of Buck in a green suit clinging to him and singing 'keep on whispering in my ear, tell me all the things that I wanna hear,' very passionately, and very off key directly into his ear. How did it take Eddie this long to kiss him?
When he gets home, the house is still quiet and Eddie tiptoes up the hall. He slowly pushes the bedroom door open to find that Buck has starfished out across the bed in his absence, limbs thrown out wide, face smushed into Eddie's pillow, snoring softly. Eddie leans against the doorframe and just watches him for a moment and lets warmth pool in his chest with just how much he loves him.
Buck looks soft, illuminated by the little bit of light streaming in from the hallway. His curls frame his face in a way that's almost angelic, there's a nearly imperceptible golden shine to them. He's so beautiful. Eddie has never seen another human being that exudes so much beauty.
Maybe Buck feels the intensity of Eddie's gaze on him because his eyes slowly open. The moment his gaze catches on Eddie, a brilliant smile blooms across his face.
"Whatcha lookin' at, Eddie?" he murmurs, one eyebrow quirking up like it's automatic.
"You," Eddie replies fondly.
"C'mere." Buck reaches out towards him and makes a grabbing gesture. It's so ridiculously adorable that Eddie can't help but laugh.
"Just a sec," Eddie says, pushing off the wall and closing the door behind him.
"Ugh," Buck groans when Eddie pauses to start meticulously unbuttoning his shirt. "You and your no outside clothes on the bed paranoia."
"Hey, watch it." Eddie narrows his eyes at Buck. "You better respect that rule if you want to keep sleeping in my bed on a permanent basis."
Buck holds up his hands. "I'm respecting it! I just want my - my bo - my - Eddie to get back in bed faster."
Eddie raises his eyebrows. "Your what?" he asks playfully. His heartbeat has definitely accelerated.
"Uh," Buck hesitates and even in the dim light of the room Eddie can tell he's blushing. "My boyfriend?" Buck is staring at the ceiling and resolutely avoiding eye contact.
"Hmm," Eddie considers aloud as he discards his shirt and pushes off his jeans to follow. He leaves them in a heap on the floor. He may be sticking to his no outside clothes in the bed rule, but the rule about clothes going in the hamper seems less pressing when Buck is right in front of him, now watching him expectantly.
"Hey, no!" Buck protests, vehemently shaking his head when Eddie reaches for his pajama pants. "That's not necessary."
"Okay," Eddie agrees easily, feeling his own face heating. "Whatever you want," he adds causally as he climbs up onto the bed.
"So?" Buck asks, watching Eddie intently.
"So?" Eddie parrots back, crawling across the bed on his knees before flopping unceremoniously down on top of Buck.
"Oof," Buck wheezes, but his arms come up to wrap tightly around Eddie’s back. "What do you think of being my boyfriend?" he asks into Eddie's hair.
"I'm not sure." Eddie lifts his head, making sure to catch Buck's eye before he continues. "I'm not sure if that sounds permanent enough for me."
Buck's lips part in surprise. His eyes frantically dart across Eddie's face. "Permanent enough?" he echoes, voice small.
"Mmhm," Eddie hums. He leans down to brush his lips fleetingly against Buck's before pulling back to look at him again. "I thought we agreed last night," he says, keeping his tone soft. "This is it."
"It is." Buck nods. "It's us."
"It's us," Eddie agrees.
"Buck and Eddie," Buck says.
"Buck and Eddie," Eddie repeats.
"Forever?" Buck breathes.
"Forever,” Eddie confirms. Now he’s the one waiting expectantly, eyes searching Buck's.
"D'you mean..." Buck trails off, eyebrows pinching together, like he's trying very hard to figure out any meaning other than the obvious one.
"What do you say, Buckley?" Eddie nudges Buck's shoulder. "Want to make it official?"
"You want to get married?" Buck asks in quiet disbelief.
"If you do," Eddie replies easily. He has absolutely no idea how he's being so calm about this. He didn't have the slightest intention of proposing to Buck this morning. He didn't have the slightest intention of proposing to anyone ever again. But somehow this - them - it just makes sense.
"I - I, uh," Buck stumbles over his words. He takes a slow, measured breath and stares up into Eddie's eyes. "Yeah, I do."
"Okay." Eddie smiles softly, gazing adoringly down at Buck beneath him. "Good."
Then Buck's hand is coming up to catch the back of Eddie's neck and he's pulling him down, down, down into a slow and steady kiss. It drags on and on and Eddie loses himself in it, swept away in the current of Buck's touch.
It's overwhelming in the best way, having every single one of his senses filled with Buck. He tastes like joy and feels like safety and smells like home, and each small, breathy noise that Buck makes sounds like a promise of forever. Eddie has never been so alive.
Eddie isn't sure how much time has passed when he finally finds himself tucked up against Buck's bare chest, sweat cooling on their skin as their heart rates return to normal rhythm. It turns out he is extremely, incredibly, phenomenally gay after all.
"Hey," Buck whispers, tilting his chin down to catch Eddie's eye.
"Hey," Eddie replies, looking up at him.
"You good?"
"Yeah." Eddie nods, snuggling closer into Buck's chest. "Really good."
"Good." Buck kisses the top of his head like it's already become a habit.
With a deep, contented sigh, Eddie presses his ear more firmly against Buck's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. There's something deeply comforting about the sound and Eddie's eyelids are beginning to droop when his gaze catches on the picture frame on the dresser. It's a photo of Buck, Eddie, and Christopher at the park, from back when Buck had helped him build Chris' skateboard. For a moment, Eddie's eyes linger on the photo, before he abruptly sits up.
"I can't marry you!"
"What?" Buck looks at him, bewildered. He pushes himself to sit up beside Eddie. "Why not?"
"I want to," Eddie assures him quickly, maybe a little frantically. "I really, really want to, but I have to take it back! Pretend I didn't ask!"
"Why?" Buck repeats, looking confused rather than hurt.
"Chris." Eddie gestures in the direction of the photograph. "I have to tell Chris first."
"Oh." Buck visibly relaxes. "Yeah, of course."
"I'll ask again," Eddie promises. "Just as soon as Chris knows."
"Okay." Buck smiles at him. "I'm not in a rush."
"Okay," Eddie echoes back, feeling a weight ease off him. They're in this together.
"So." Buck raises an eyebrow at Eddie. "Maybe we can try being boyfriends until then?" he suggests.
"Yeah, okay," Eddie agrees, allowing himself to be pulled back into Buck's embrace. "I think I'd like that."
They end up being boyfriends for all of ten hours. They're ten of the best hours of Eddie's life.
That evening, over dinner, they break the news to Chris. He's happy for them but his reaction is, admittedly, a little underwhelming. He laughs and says 'finally,' before asking Eddie to pass the ketchup like it's just another regular meal in the Buckley-Diaz house. Maybe it is.
It's all so natural and normal that Eddie doesn't even notice the time slipping by. One day he wakes up and he's Buck's husband and Buck is legally Christopher's parent and nothing's really changed. They get up together, go to work together, raise their kid together. It's nothing out of the ordinary. It's everything Eddie didn't know he'd spent his life searching for.
In the end, the only thing that's different is Eddie himself. Not because he's changed, but because he's finally stopped trying to change. He doesn't wake up every morning and try to be someone he isn't. He doesn't keep trying to build a life that was never meant for him. He just gets to be. A father, a husband, a firefighter.
He gets to be Eddie.