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"Thanks for helping me out. I really appreciate it."
Eddie put down the last of the cardboard boxes, now empty and carefully flattened out, and rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh.
"I can't believe I let Chris get away with fleeing the aftermath of moving across the country twice."
He was complaining, but there was no bite in it. No, Eddie looked like the happiest person ever to have to pack and unpack their belongings for the second time in a year. He was relaxed in a way that was painful and comforting to look at at the same time, eyes crinkled by fatigue and laughter, and a kind of nonchalance that spoke of the reassurance of getting his kid back. Like nothing could reach him now, even if Buck was well placed to know it wasn't strictly true. He was wearing washed out jeans that sat in a way that only worn clothes do, and a white henley with his sleeves rolled-up. He looked... soft, like he hadn't in a really long time. And Buck... Buck didn't feel soft. He felt unnerved, like his skin was too tight and it was constricting him. Like it was going to extract the tears out of his body at any moment.
"I'm starting to think he has the right idea", joked Buck, a little tiredly, maybe, looking at the litteral cemeterary of boxes blocking the hallway. They had been surprisingly effective at unpacking. There was something to be said about the efficiency of people who had too many things to say to each other and who desperately wanted to avoid doing so. "I'll take them to the dumpster on my way out", he offered, planning his - let's not call it an escape, more like a well thought out itinerary. So much traffic in Los Angeles, really, at all hours. One simply couldn't be too careful.
"There's no rush, we could hang out. I have beers in the fridge, and your bake-off show is coming up on TV", countered Eddie, pointing at the turned-off machine behind him with an easy smile. Buck struggled in doing the same, and opted to rub his hands together and take a step back, towards the door. How could it be that somewhere that used to feel like happiness now felt like regrets and suffering ?
"No, I'll head out to Maddie's for the night. I'm gonna cook them a few meals for the next weeks. But thanks, man."
Man, smooth, Buckley, real smooth. He bent over to pile up the flattened cardboards and lifted them, trying not to wince : they weighted a ton, and it had been quite a long day. Eddie was looking at him with a familiar frown of his face, like he was going to argue. Buck wisely chose to ignore it and finally succeded in giving him a smile that didn't look like he pulled something : "Well, see you around, Diaz."
"Buck -"
Buck didn't answer and kneed the front door open, carefully carrying the mountain of flattened out boxes and holding them a little to the side so he could see. He dumped them all in the recyclable and stretched his back, feeling like an old man. Granted, the shift had been interminable, in the least boring way possible. Everyone was okay in the end, and the collapse would soon only be a memory, with no casualties to report. Eddie and Chris were finally staying, and Maddie had her baby. He was an uncle again. Life was good. Good enough, at least, even if he was technically homeless. It was for the best reason possible, but still, it hurt a little, not to have anywhere to call a home. Or no one, for that matter. He had gone out to visit a few properties before going to the hospital in the afternoon, but nothing really called out to him. He would probably have to pick one of them anyway, seeing as the L.A market was a nightmare, and he was in a kind of a rush. It was a shame, really. This house had been nice. It would be even nicer with the Diaz boys home, but it had treated Buck well. It was full of memories : a capricious drawer remembered him of Eddie swearing at it, the burn marks on the table of the one time he had forgotten he was a firefighter and that yes, wood did burn, especially if you put something hot on it, like something right out of the stove, for exemple. There was the couch where they had spent so many hours watching at cartoons and nature documentaries with Chris, the burn-out lightbulb in the dining room kitchen that they always burnt out right after changing it for a new one. There were the shaky pencil lines in the treshold where Eddie used to measure Chris. It was a real home. Not his, but still. And it hurt to leave it, and those who made it a home.
"Listen, Buck, I - "
Eddie was interrupted by the honks of a car pulling over. He had followed Buck out of the house, and he was still frowning. They turned to see Chris get out of the back of the car with his crutches and a smile that lighted out his entire face, and the entire street with it. He was laughing when he slammed the car door, and waved at the vehicle while it was leaving. He walked up to Buck and Eddie and sized up the ton of boxes in the bin with narrowed eyes.
"Well done, Dad ! You did it so fast this time !" There were still traces of laughter in his voice, making it clear he was absolutely making fun of his father, like was his birthright.
"This time, huh ?" asked Buck, giving a side eye to Eddie, whose ears had taken a delightful pink color. He cleared his throat while looking embarrassed, but didn't actually answer, no doubt knowing he had no possible way of getting out of that one.
"Yeah, when we left there were still boxes at Dad's, and he moved in months ago", laughed Chris, all mischevious and just happy looking. He should always look like that, thought Buck. Chris was just such a bright light this world, and he couldn't believe how grim his own had been since he left.
"That's right, make fun of your dad, go on, but don't think for a second that I'm gonna forget that you let us do all of the unpacking while you were out with your friends", said Eddie with a smile that pretty much said that he would, in fact, forget all about it for the smile on his kid's face. He looked so relaxed and at peace looking at his son, that between the two of them, Buck felt like he was looking at the sun. He looked at them walking over to the house, and he felt painfully out of place. His lungs -or was it his heart ?- hurt at the idea of leaving them behind, but he had to. He just, he had to. He took out his car keys, and took a few steps towards his car, but before he could say anything Chris called out to him, scrunching his face in an adoable frown that looked so much like his dad's :
"Where are you going ? I'm starving ! We should get pizza", he added as an afterthought, looking particularly pleased at the prospect.
"You heard him, said Eddie. Come on, Buck." He pointed to the house with a head tilt without letting go of Buck's eyes, like he knew it would be impossible for Buck to say no to that.
He followed them with hesitant steps, while Chris was enumerating all of the food he had missed at El Paso, which apparently didn't provide as many take-out options as a teenager raised in L.A could hope. Buck let himself be led to the couch by his favorite kid, who was going on and on about how mexican food did get boring after a while, even if his grandmother was really good at it. Eddie left to call the pizza place looking amused, and Chris looked up at Buck from his sitting place, his glasses slipping down his nose a little.
"You were really going to leave without saying goodbye ?" He didn't sound upset, more like confused at the idea.
"Just for the night, I would have come to see in the morning you know." He sat down with him, pushing the crutches out of the way while letting them close enough to Christopher, should he want to get up. "To hang out with my favorite Diaz."
"I heard that !" They heard from the kitchen, then "No, sorry, that wasn't for you - "
Chris giggled, and he just looked so young again for a minute, before frowning again : "But where would you have slept ?"
"At Maddie's. They're at the hospital right now, so I was going to help them out with a few meals."
"Yeah, Dad told me she had the baby", nodded Chris, actually looking excited at the idea.
"You want to see a picture ?" Buck took out his cell, exchanging it for the car keys that he was still holding out to. He pulled out the dozen of photos he had taken of his nephew and handed the phone to Chris. "They called him Bobby. Bobby Nash Han."
Chris took the phone and scrolled through the pictures. He stopped on one, and zoomed in a little, a small smile on his face.
"That's a good name", he offered quietly.
"Yeah. Yeah, it is." His own voice was strangled, like he was trying to form words around a sob so deeply buried in his throat he could not even swallow it. Chris looked up at him, and his smile was definitely a sad -if unbearably soft- one.
"I think it's cool. There should always be a Bobby."
Buck chuckled, and if the sound was a little wet, well, no one could really be mad at him for it, could they ? He took back the phone that Chris was handing him, and took another minute to look over the face of the baby. Another perfect kid.
"I think you should stay. Not just for dinner", added the teenager when Buck went to answer. "You should stay with us. At home."
"I..." He tried, his voice a raspy, dusty thing, and his eyes stinging. "Thanks, Chris, I really appreciate it. But it's not my home, you know. It's yours. I was just keeping it warm for you." He tried to smile, but he felt like it was more of a wobbly, pathetic thing. It really was like talking with a stone in his throat.
"It's your home too. Dad said you gave back your old one, so it's your home too now. If you stayed, we could spend time together, like before. I have so many things to tell you." He sounded like he was getting worked-up, now, huffy breaths and jittery hand movements. "/I want it to be like before", he said decisively, like a statement.
"It- it will be. I promise, Chris. I will be there so often you'll want to kick me out. We'll go the zoo, and to the pier, and anywhere you want, and it will be just like before." His eyes were burning now, and they were wet. His voice was unassured, but he knew Chris could see it in his eyes, how he would always be a part of Chris life, as long as he wanted him in it. He reached out to him and put his hand on the teenager's leg, squeezing a little. Chris looked down at it without saying anything for a minute, then, slowly, like every word was carefully chosen :
"You know, no one asked me anything. Dad said we would go back to Texas, then that we would come back here, and I had to be okay with it."
"I'm sorry, Chris. Did you want to stay there with your grandparents ?" God, he hoped not. He hoped Chris wanted to be here, with him, with all of them. He hoped Chris still thought of Los Angeles as home.
Chris shook his head, curls bouncing. "No, I wanted to come back. I've wanted to for a long time. But Dad never asked, and Grandma and Grandpa, they didn't ask either. When Dad came there, I thought it meant we were going home. But he didn't ask me what I wanted, and he bought a house. So I didn't tell him. We talked about it when I moved in with him, and he said I should say what I think, and that I should ask for what I want." He was looking deep in Buck's eyes now, blue eyes so different, and yet so similar to his father, in the way they left you stripped bare, unable to look away.
"He's right, said Buck gently. You really should."
"Well, I don't want you to go", huffed Chris. "I want you to stay." Buck's breath was stuck in his throat. Distantly, he registered that he didn't hear Eddie anymore, which meant that he must have finished his phone call. God, what if he was listening right now ? What if he thought Buck was overstepping ? "Is that what you want too ?"
"What ?"
"You should ask for what you want, too. Would you prefer to have your own place, like before ?"
Buck rubbed his face tiredly. He felt like his skin was crawling. He laughed a little, but it sounded more like a sigh.
"It doesn't really matter what I want, bud. What matters is that you dad and you are home, and I'm so happy about that. That's what I want. I've wanted that for a long time, you know. For you to come home. I missed you a lot. I swear that even if I don't live here, I won't leave you. You're it for me, kid", he promised, his eyes locked-in with the teenager's, so that he knew he meant it, with all his being. He had never spoken truer words.
Chris looked away, but Buck could see that his eyes were wet, too.
"Come here."
He hugged the teenager, burrowing his face in his curls and engulfing him in his arms. He was so much bigger than before, and yet, Chris held him as tightly as he used to when he was just a kid.
"I missed you too." He mumbled. They jumped at a noise behind them, and let go of each other. Eddie picked up his phone on the floor with a sheepish smile, awkwardly standing in the treshold. His eyes too were far from dry and Buck knew then and there that he had indeed listened to them.
"The pizzas will be here in an hour", he said, casually pocketing his phone like nothing happened.
"I'll go to my room then", quicky answered Chris, who had rubbed out his eyes fiercely if the irritated skin was anything to go by.
"An hour, that's it !" called out Eddie, watching his son go on with his crutches, with a dopey smile on his face, like he had missed being able to pester his son. He probably had. Buck knew he had missed all of it. He startled when Eddie's eyes met his and he realized he had been staring.
"I didn't ask him to say that." He said immediately. "I'll be out of your hair in an hour. I can still go now, if you want. You'll just tell him I had to go, and -"
"Buck -"
"No, I mean, that's better anyway, I should go, I have so many things to cook, and grocery shopping to do, too-" He started getting up.
"Buck." Eddie crossed the room and grabbed his arm, squeezing a little, dragging him back down on the couch with him. "Calm down, man. It's okay. I know you didn't ask him to say that." His eyes were warm, and he had this smile on his face, the one that was reserved to Chris, and Buck, sometimes, when he was lucky enough. He hadn't been lucky recently, and so it explained why his pulse just got so much faster. "He already told me all of that when I told him we were staying."
Buck swallowed, his heart thumping in his chest. Eddie was still holding him tight, in a non-hurting way. More in a stay-right-here way.
"He did ?" Eddie brushed a hand through his hair nervously without letting go of him. He looked a little embarrassed, his ears once more a pretty shade of pink.
"Yeah. He said I wouldn't ask you, so he had to."
"It's okay, man", he assured him, even though it was very much not, even though it felt like a stake going right through his heart. Throwing up blood hurt less. "I know you don't want me to stay. It was always gonna go like this. It's your home, I was only subletting. I- I visited a few places, in fact. I'll be gone so fast you won't even remember I was there at all." Eddie let go of him all of a sudden.
"What ? Already ?" He asked, sounding distressed, eyes all round and unblinking.
"Well, yeah, I mean, I knew you would want your home back as soon as possible, so I booked a few visits, before the hospital." Eddie shook his head.
"Okay, no" he said as decisively as his son, like it was self-explanatory.
"What ?"
"No. No. You stay here. You, me, and Chris. That's how it goes. That's how it should be. You don't, you don't go. You stay here", he repeated. "I know I left, I know I did, but it was for Chris, okay ? It was for Chris. So I could have him back. And then, I was going to take him back here. I was !" He had seen the disbelieving look on Buck's face. "I know it doesn't sound like that, but I was ! I was going to let him finish middle school, and then I would have talked to him about coming back here. You think I wanted to go back to El Paso ? He's my son. He's my son, Buck, but I would have found my way back to the 118. I swear I would have." He was hyperventilating now, his eyes wide and a little panicked, like he was desperate for Buck to believe him.
"Hey, hey, Eddie, stop, breathe. It's okay." He put a hand on Eddie's shoulder., trying to ground him. "Take a breathe for me, okay ? Just... slowly. Okay ?" He breathed in and out with him for a few seconds until he looked a little better, or at least less like a human-sized hamster in his wheel. "You're here. That doesn't matter, okay ? You're here now. You found your way back. It's all good."
Even if it wasn't, really. Even if it took Chimney to say exactly the same things Buck had been saying for months to make Eddie come back. By now, it should have been old news that Buck just wasn't enough to convince the people he cared about to stay.
"I know you don't believe me", said Eddie, looking deep into his eyes. His wet, kind, warm, ensnaring really, brown eyes chaining Buck's to them like a spell. His hand was balled in a fist, and he looked like he was angry, but not at Buck, this time. "It's okay. I wouldn't believe me either. I'm not... I'm not good at saying what I want. That's why I didn't ask Chris. I thought I knew better, and I didn't want to put that on him, you know ? I never pick out the juice, even if I want to." He must have seen the look on Buck's face and the way his eyebrows shot up, because he added : "I love juice, you know ? But I always pick water. Because I don't feel like I deserve the juice."
"Oh, Eddie..." He felt his eyebrows scrunch up, and his heart squeeze in his chest, at the idea that Eddie could somehow not know that he deserved everything the world.
"I want Chris to pick up the juice." Eddie said, taking a deep, shaking breah. "I want him to ask for what he wants, and to know he deserves everything good."
"I know. And look, he asked, okay ? You're doing a good job with him, I can tell."
"I mess up all the time. I know I do. But you don't. And I think together, we're good parents." He grabbed Buck's wrist by his shoulder, looking at him like he was begging him to understand.
"I'm not his parent", he painfully enunciated, like it hurt to say it. And it did. It tasted like ash, like chewing on all the cardboard they emptied earlier. "I'm just... I'm just his friend." He untangled his arm from Eddie's grasp and moved a little away from him.
"You're his parent too. I'm sorry I didn't say it before. He's... He's your kid too. He asked me about you the whole time we were in Texas. He said you were talking to him. That you sent him videos of animals, and fun facts, and messages to tell him that you loved him always, and that you missed him. He feels guilty for not answering, you know. But he missed you. And now we're all here, just like it should be so you don't have to leave, okay ? You don't."
Buck took a shaky breath. He felt like he was barely holding it together, like any sudden move could break him a little more. And if he broke any more, he would shatter right where he was, and there would be no more fixing it. He would just crumble.
"I don't... I don't know what to say", he let out in a whisper.
"You said it didn't matter what you want, only what Chris and I want. That's not true, by the way, but right now I don't care. So I'm, I'm gonna ask for what I want, okay ?" Eddie was twisting his hands together, and his breathing was too loud. He looked like he was panicking again, but he was looking at Buck with these damn brown eyes, these puppy eyes that made it so hard to even think about anything else. He was looking at Buck like he had the solution to all his problems, and Buck didn't know how, didn't know how to fix whatever was wrong, but he would be damned if he didn't do everything he could and even what he couldn't to try. That he knew how to do. That, he was good enough for.
"Okay", he nodded, even if he knew it would cost him everything, even if he knew whatever Eddie wanted to ask him couldn't be good. "Okay, tell me what you want".
"I want you to stay, he blurted out loudly, then looked surprised, like it had erupted out of his chest without his consent, like a geyser. I want you to give up on these other places, and stay here, with us. With me. I..." He reached out to Buck, whose breath was lodged in his chest, whose heart felt like it stopped beating, and he took his hands in his shaking ones. Eddie's hands were clammy, and too cold, like he was terrified. Buck squeezed them in his, marvelling at the sight of these slightly bigger, yet thinner, perfect hands, safely encompassed in his. He could feel the calluses in the palms, in the fingers, and they felt like a braille poetry he could only hope to decipher. "You're the juice, Buck." His heart started beating again. In fact, it was thumping so loudly, he wasn't sure he could hear anything Eddie was saying.
"What ?"
"I didn't know." He had a sad smile on his face, a self-deprecating one Buck wanted to make disappear. Eddie should never look like that, like he wasn't the best person in the world. "I didn't understand why nothing ever felt right for me. Why it always came to shit, with Shannon, and Ana, and Marisol, and just everyone. Why if it didn't fall apart on its own, I just had to go and ruin it myself. But I understand, now." He took a big breath, and squeezed Buck's hands, looking them over, before plunging his eyes in his friend's. "I think I'm gay."
"What ?" He said again, like it was all he knew how to say, now.
"I'm gay, Buck," he exhaled, and it sounded like a confession, and it sounded like relief. "I'm really, really gay. And I didn't even know, because it wasn't something that I thought was possible for me. I was raised in Texas, in a catholic family, and these things, they just don't exist, there. Except they do. And I didn't know that the way I felt, it was not friendship. That it was more than that. I didn't get it until I left, and I missed you all the time, and then Bobby died, and I came back, but it was like you weren't even there. It was like you were gone, and I was all alone again, except you were right here. And I couldn't handle it, because I've been so sad Buck," he squeezed his hands again, and Buck couldn't breathe, "and I wanted to share it with you, I wanted to be sad with you. But you were so far away, and I just couldn't deal with that, so I came at you. And I meant what I said, but I said it wrong. I want it to be all about us, and not just about you. I want to get through it together. I want... I want everything together."
Buck felt like he was drowning. His hands were lax around Eddie's, and his brain was going a hundred miles a second and still struggling to catch up. It was like everything was coming together, like a puzzle he never even realized was there until he was handed the solution, and it just, it made sense. It finally made sense. He and Eddie. Eddie and him. Eddie, who looked soft, and like home, and the way his lashed fanned out on his cheeks when he was looking down, and his hair without the hair gel, and with the hair gel, and the sharpness of his canines, and the way he rolled his eyes, and the way he snorted, and his laugh, and even the way he glared, and when he scowled, and snapped, and yelled, and just... Eddie. Eddie and his henleys, and his neck, Eddie and his moustache, Eddie and his eyes like home, and hell, and heaven, and his hands who looked like they should always be caressing, and healing, and playful, and never hurting, and never holding a weapon, and the hairs on his arms, and the way the light made them shine. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Eddie who is the sun, and the moon, and the tide. Eddie who can make him feel like he's burning, like he's freezing, like he's melting. Eddie who left and took all of the sunshine with him. Eddie who came back and ignited him, Eddie who looks at him like he's the clouds, like he's a lighthouse, and the shore. Eddie.
"Oh. He took a shaking breath. Oh." Eddie's eyes were uncertain, assessing, like he expected him to freak out. "I can't believe Tommy was right".
He felt Eddie go stiff, and his hands trying to leave his, like it was possible, like it was allowed.
"Tommy ? What do you mean Tommy was right ? What does Tommy have to do with anything ?"
And it was right there, in the way he said Tommy's name, in the scowl on his face, and Buck couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. He tightened his hands around Eddie, right where they belonged, and looked at him, feeling like he had never really seen him before. Like it was the first time, and he was made anew by his eyes, and his touch, and his voice.
"He said he always felt like he had competition when you were around. And I think he was right." Eddie stopped struggling, eyes wide open and unblinking, and oh, Buck never wanted to look into any other eyes. Just this, just this gaze that was worth everything the pain, the loneliness, the inadequacy. Everything that led him to this. To this man who looked at him like he couldn't believe him. Like he was lucky that Buck wanted him too. Oh God. Buck loved him. In a devastating, peaceful, life-changing way.
"What ?" He sputtered, like he too was drowning.
"He was right. I never would have chosen him over you and Chris. It was always you before anyone else. I... You're gay", he said again, like he just realized. Like it just hit him.
"Yes..." said Eddie hesitantly, sounding unsure.
"No, Eddie, you're gay !" And it was unmistakable, the way Buck said it, like it was the best news he had ever heard -and it was- and the way his voice just melted around the word, all joy and relief.
"I am."
"And I'm Buck, I mean, I'm bi." He said dumbly, but with the same exhilarated tone, because it didn't matter. It didn't matter if he was dumb, if he wasn't clear.
"Yeah, you are", said Eddie with a fond look in his eyes, lips stretched in a soft, tender, oh so gentle smile.
"I'm the juice." He squeezed Eddie's hands in his, his heart like a hummingbird in his chest. "You said I'm the juice", he said insistently. "Please tell me I'm reading this right."
"You're... not reading it wrong", offered Eddie, looking almost as terrified as Buck felt at the idea of doing a mistake, of saying the wrong thing now, at what was undoubtedly the most important moment of his life.
"I want you too. I didn't know it, I didn't understand, but I do. I do so much, Eddie. You're everything. I didn't think you could want this. Want me. I never even thought you could... So I never allowed myself to even consider it. Maddie asked me if it were so crazy to think I could be in love with you, and I told her I couldn't, because you're straight, and I told Tommy" -he squeezed Eddie's hands when he scowled again at the unfortunate name- "I told him I didn't have to sleep to everyone I love, or to love everyone I sleep with, but I really want to sleep with you. NO ! I mean, yes, I do, but that's not what I meant, I meant -"
Eddie laughed. And it was such a joyous sound, so free, so vibrant, that Buck's heart soared with it, the bird finally slowing down, at last landing to drink the sweetest nectar. Because Eddie just got it. He knew with an absolute certainty that he understood him. Eddie twisted his hands out of Buck's, and reached out to his face, and Buck's breath hitched, and he was going to die if he didn't kiss him right now, and Eddie was just smiling at him with his eyes lighted up like fucking sushine, and - the door rang. They stayed still, lost in each other, Eddie's hands so close to cup Buck's face. It rang again, and Chris called from his room with this mix of whining and boredom specific to teenagers in his voice :
"Dad, pizza !"
Eddie chuckled and shook his head, soft threads flying around his face in a way that made Buck's heart beat twice as hard in his chest, and it didn't feel like fear, or anxiety, it felt exhilarating, it felt like the world had shifted on its axis, or maybe it always was this way, and Buck was only catching up, and Eddie was his anchor, and -
"To be continued", Eddie whispered before getting up. He took a few steps. "Stay right here", he added, a hand on the back of the couch, looking behind his shoulder with that smile that made Buck's heart soar in his chest, like sunlight giving life to a plant.
Nothing could have made Buck move. So, he stayed.