“What do you think about an 80s theme?” Buck asks into the silence around him, apropos of absolutely nothing, barely glancing up from his phone as he scours the internet for possible bachelor party locations.
“In general, or…?” Eddie answers without even missing a beat.
Buck can hear his best friend shuffling around the kitchen, trying to get a headstart on all the dishes Buck used to prepare the lasagna currently baking in the oven, a mouthwatering smell floating through the house. But his mind is stuck on the idea already unfolding before his eyes. “For Chim’s bachelor party.”
“Oh,” Eddie whispers, and it is almost too low to hear over the sounds of dishes clicking together in the already soapy water, at least it is from where Buck is sitting at the kitchen table. “I mean, the 80s are pretty on trend right now, I’d say. Plays into the nostalgia of it all. Why? What were you thinking about?”
“Look at this!” Buck suggests, already getting up from his chair, but still absorbed in his phone as he steps around the table to reach Eddie’s place in front of the sink. He shoves his hand out and closer to Eddie so he can be able to peer at his phone as well. “It’s a karaoke club out in Vegas.”
For a moment, Buck just watches Eddie’s face as his best friend takes in the colorful post on his own phone. There are neon-light-like shapes plastered all over a dark background, the words karaoke and 1980s standing out in a stark tangerine color, isolating themselves from the rest of the white text.
“You know, karaoke is kind of Chimney’s thing. He used to work at this karaoke bar before he became a firefighter, he told me so before,” Buck rushes to explain. “And the first date I witnessed between my sister and him, they were singing at that karaoke place. So, I would assume, it is still a thing for them.”
“Then why aren’t we going to the place where they had their first date?”
And that- that is actually a good question, now that Buck thinks about it. Quickly he pulls his phone away from Eddie, scrolling through it until he ends up on Google again. He hears Eddie’s quiet chuckle, just inches away from his own face, as the older man starts washing the dishes again.
“Huh,” he breathes into the silence, as the links start to load on his screen. There is a tight feeling in his chest, sort of a disappointment filling his lungs the more he reads what he finds. “It shut down a couple years ago. That’s kinda disappointing. I mean, imagine having all these memories of this one place and suddenly you cannot come back and live through them again.”
Quietly, gently, he can hear the soft questioning hum coming from Eddie. He imagines the kind of expression on his best friend’s face. The small smile on his face, his skin crinkling around his eyes due to the happiness of the quiet intimacy of the moment. A sweet, syrupy joy running through his veins, as Eddie explained it once, that only comes from evenings spent with Buck and Christopher. “And you do that a lot? Going back to the places you made good memories to relive them?”
It makes warmth bloom in Buck’s chest and somehow, the filter between his brain and mouth decides to take itself out. Too honest, the words rush from his mouth like a silver spring: “Well, I’m here all the time, aren’t I?”
From the corner of his eye, Buck watches as the words register. Eddie’s shoulders pull back and his arms tense, his face slipping from the relaxed and happy expression to something disbelieving for a moment, like his face just went slack for a second before the older man schools it back into a neutral facade. Then slowly, one after another, Buck watches as his best friend consciously relaxes his muscles, the tension seeping from his body. Almost too soft, Eddie’s voice like a gentle wind hits Buck’s ears: “Yeah?”
And equally as gentle, Buck answers: “Yeah, of course.”
For a moment, nothing happens, then Eddie looks up from the dishes, his hands still in the soapy water, little bubbles clinging to his forearms. A bright, soft smile spreads across his features, lighting his entire face up and making him look so much younger than he is.
It makes Buck’s heart skip a beat. He can feel his own face mirror Eddie’s expression. Just a small, soft moment between them in Eddie’s kitchen and it makes Buck want to risk the peace, let more words stream from his mouth like that, just to see his best friend’s face do that again.
After a moment that feels like it might be minutes, hours, days long, the phone still in his hand vibrates softly, ripping his attention from his best friend. Instead he finds a text from Tommy.
Like cold water, shock washes over him. His chest feels tight again, the breath catching in his throat. He feels like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. But what, his brain is refusing to tell him. Buck glances back up, but Eddie has already returned his attention to the cheese still coating one of the bowls he used during the preparation of dinner.
He forces a breath down his throat, into his lungs, expanding his chest, even though the guilt feels like a stone pressing down on his sternum. Steeling himself, he unlocks the phone and stares at the text from the man he is currently, technically, dating.
Tommy: any updates on planning the bachelor party? what was the date again? gotta check if i’ll be on call
He thinks it is sweet of Tommy to check in, but with no news to share, Buck feels bad. There are voices in the back of his mind telling him that he is wasting Tommy’s time, that Tommy doesn’t actually want to come, that he will change his schedule to have to work that day. It makes his stomach flip with nerves, a queasy feeling spreading through his intestines and finally reaching his limbs, leaving him sluggish and weighed down.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, his hand - now dry again, thanks to the dish towel - landing on Buck’s shoulder, his best friend’s thumb rubbing right over his pulse point. There is no doubt in his mind that the older man can feel how erratic his pulse has become since receiving the text message.
Instead of answering, Buck just pulls his phone closer, deciding what to text back without letting all his negative emotions show.
Buck: working on it, we’re looking into a place in vegas, but will let you know once we figure it out. :)
Buck: date is the evening before the wedding
Reading back over his messages, he decides they are good enough and will hopefully work to convince Tommy that everything is fine.
There is still warmth emanating from Eddie’s hand on his shoulder, the thumb still brushing over his pulse point, a gentle stroking motion meant to calm him down and keep him rooted in the reality of the two of them standing in the Diaz kitchen, soft light illuminating them.
“Yeah, I’m good now,” Buck smiles, his gaze finally catching Eddie’s searching eyes.
He watches as his best friend takes a moment to evaluate the truth of his statement, chocolate brown eyes tracking each of his movements, as small as they may be. After a long moment, Eddie finally nods, more to himself it seems, before his hand leaves Buck’s shoulder, leaving behind a cold sensation as the air rushes back in.
“So, 80s theme?” Eddie finally says, his lips pulling into a teasing smirk. “You weren’t even alive then, how are you going to fit into that theme?”
His phone vibrates again, in his hand. A quick glance down reveals another message from Tommy.
Tommy: can’t make vegas that night, i’m on call for sure, but i’ll be free for the wedding if there aren’t any major emergencies
Even though his stomach sinks, he decides to ignore the message. There isn’t even one single sorry in there, his brain supplies unhelpfully, the guilt immediately crashing into him again. Already, he is trying to find excuses. Sure, Tommy doesn’t owe him anything, they’ve only been on two dates so far, after all. But he could have asked to change shifts, his brain - the traitor - whispers.
Instead of spiraling further, he pockets his phone and focuses his entire attention back on his best friend, who is currently peering into the oven like it might hold the secrets to the universe and with one glance, Eddie will know everything there is to know.
“You aren’t that much older than me. You weren’t alive in the 80s either,” he finally teases back, a laugh already building somewhere behind his sternum and trying to force its way out. He doesn’t know whether it is hysteria or actual happiness.
“Shut up,” Eddie laughs with him. “We have to embrace that theme though! We should all dress up for it!”
“Like what, Top Gun? You’re Goose and I’m Maverick?”
“You know that you would be Goose and I would be Maverick, right?” Eddie grins, a glint entering his eyes, even when his face pulls into a fake look of concern, his arm already shooting out to grab Buck’s bicep lovingly. “Buck, this is important to me. You know that I would be Maverick, right?”
“Well, I’m not gonna argue against you in a flight suit and some aviator shades,” Buck finally says. But in the back of his mind, there is the voice again. Tommy could come in a flight suit. He wouldn’t even have to change if he was called into work. He pushes that thought down, swallows around the lump in his throat and puts on a fake smile when he continues. “But if we’re both in flight suits, that would be too matchy, I’d say. Any other ideas, buddy?”
Eddie glances at the oven again, the lasagna visible through the glass and perfectly golden brown from what Buck can tell. “Can you get Chris? I’ll get this out and we can have dinner,” his best friend suggests. “And honestly, what about Miami Vice? Colorful suits? It’ll be 80s, but not too much like a costume. Besides, you can still propose the idea of a Maverick cosplay to Chim. He’ll love that one. Didn’t he say, he’d love to be Top Gun?”
“Sounds good,” Buck smiles, already halfway out the door and on his way to Christopher’s room. He himself doesn’t know which of the things Eddie just said he is replying to. Whatever it is, he’ll figure it out over dinner, for sure.
--
The bachelor party itself is a complete success.
Chimney actually took Buck’s suggestion and is currently dressed in a light green-ish-brown flight suit, aviators perched on his nose and covering his eyes, as he belts Danger Zone. It’s not half bad, Buck has to acknowledge.
Apparently, it became a costume party without Buck’s input, but once Chimney had chosen a look, he had made a big thing out of it and pressured everyone else to dress up as well.
It makes Buck smile, as he looks around, catching Eddie in his matching pink suit to Buck’s own green one. In the corner, Hen sits, a striped suit jacket swung over her chair, her glasses a vomit green in color to emulate Beetlejuice’s hair. Karen, besides her, is wearing a billowing white shirt with wide lapels and a black waistcoat over gray pants, her hair styled to be falling messily around her face. When Buck had asked about her costume, she had told him that she was dressed like David Bowie in Labyrinth.
The most surprising look, however, at least to Buck, comes in the shape of Ravi walking into the room. He is dressed top to bottom in a complete Indiana Jones getup. There is even a whip attached to his belt, the tip of it sluggishly hanging below Ravi’s knee.
Especially when Ravi comes over with another round of tequila shots, Buck can’t help but admire the way the half-open white shirt drapes over the younger man’s chest and Buck is sure, if Ravi wants to, he will find somebody in that bar to get lucky tonight.
Besides that, the food is great, Buck knows more 80s songs than he originally thought and after enough drinks, he is sure he can get Eddie to abandon his seat and join him on stage at some point for sure.
But until then, he keeps sharing small, secret smiles with his best friend whenever their eyes catch across the room. Baby blue and chocolate brown meeting over the rims of glasses as alcohol flows freely.
Well done, good job, Buck, he thinks to himself, silently lauding himself on the idea to have the bachelor party here. In a small karaoke bar in the middle of Las Vegas, their hotel just down the road, the idea of a 4 hour road trip back to Los Angeles tomorrow already clouding his brain. Or that might be the alcohol.
--
The first thing Buck distinctly feels when he is roused from sleep is the pounding in his head. His eyelids feel heavy, not ready to open yet at all, which is probably for the best because he can feel warm sunlight streaming through the window and falling on his face where he is lying.
He feels warm and comfortable under the rays of sun, yet the hotel sheets are soft and cool against his skin where they cover him. It feels almost heavenly, if it wasn’t for the obvious signs of a hangover descending on him like the Sword of Damocles.
The second thing he feels is the warm body pressed up against his back.
There is a weight wrapped around his waist and after Buck’s brain finally catches up, he thinks it might be an arm. Especially now that he focuses on it, he can feel the hand pressed to his chest, right in between his pecs, fingers splayed wide and curled around him almost possessively.
It sends warmth through his body, originating from the tips of the fingers, all the way down the arm and spreading all through his own limbs. His head is swimming, but the physical sensation of warmth lures him back into it. Buck shuffles slightly, pressing firmer against the body behind him, grinding his hips back in a lazy swirl to feel more of the heat pressing into his back.
“Mhhhh, baby. Stay,” the sleepy grumble catches him off guard and his eyes fly open. The hand on his chest tightens infinitesimally, as the body behind him moves, closing the hair’s breadth of space that was remaining between them. There is a hard co*ck nudging against the back of his thighs and if Buck was to move even the smallest inch, it would slip right between the cheeks of his ass.
Which is the exact moment Buck realizes that they are both fully naked. Which… is probably something to be examined in a moment. Right after having a little freak out.
Because that voice. That voice is what truly wakes Buck up. Because he hears it every single day. At work, at home, in between, almost every single minute of every single day. But never quite like this. Not as gravelly, as low, never whispered as dirtily in his ear, sleep-rough and sounding like pure sex. It sends a full shiver down his spine, which only provides more friction between their bodies.
“Eddie?” Buck finally manages to breathe out, his voice low, a gentle whisper into the silence of the room. He doubts it is loud enough to fully rouse the other man, but on the off chance that Eddie is only dozing on him, which seems to be the case since Buck was actively pulled back into the hard line of abs behind him, then it should elicit a response, at least.
There is a soft hum emanating from right next to his ear as Eddie nuzzles closer. It takes a second until Buck’s brain fully catches up, but there are definitely lips brushing against his shoulder just there. A wet kiss is placed right on his shoulder blade, Eddie’s stubble scratching deliciously over the soft skin.
It makes Buck’s brain short circuit.
Eddie.
His best friend.
Just kissed him.
Him.
Evan Buckley.
Evan Buckley was just kissed by Eddie Diaz.
Somehow his brain cannot compute that information.
There is a distinct lack of understanding regarding the entire situation Buck has found himself in. That is definitely Eddie pressed up against Buck’s back. That is his best friend’s co*ck nudging against his ass. That is Eddie’s hand possessively cradling his pecs and pressing his entire body back into the hard line of Eddie’s figure.
“Good morning,” Eddie breathes into his ear after another few quiet seconds between the two of them, another soft kiss pressed into his shoulder blade. “How are you holding up, stud?”
Buck is still grappling with the idea of Eddie kissing him, but it makes his heart beat faster, blood rushing through his veins and drowning out every other sensation. It made his headache fade out of focus but with Eddie’s question, it comes back in full strength. It forces a groan from his lips.
“Honestly?” Buck whispers, keeping his voice low to stop the headache from getting worse. “I’m still asking myself what crawled into my mouth and died there. Hangover from hell, over here.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks gently, deliberately trying to be more quiet. Buck feels the hand on his chest move towards his shoulder and before he can even question what is happening, Eddie flips their positions. One second, they are spooning on the hotel room bed, the next Buck is on his back, the older man leaning over him slightly, pressed into his side. “Let me help.”
He stares up at his best friend, Eddie’s brown gaze full of warmth and so soft in a way that Buck has only ever seen directed at Christopher before. It almost feels like love.
“Let you-?” he finally asks, his hangover still clouding his mind and confusion hanging around like a heavy fog.
Instead of answering, Eddie just raises his hands, clearly telegraphing what he is about to do. Softly, the other man’s fingers land on his temples and start massaging, the pain behind his eyes immediately lessening and slowly fading into nothing. With a soft groan of pleasure, Buck lets his eyes close, dropping his head back into the pillow and letting Eddie continue his soft ministrations.
The gentle touches make him lose his entire sense of time and space. Especially with his eyes closed, there is only the physical sensation of somebody taking care of him, every other part of his body and mind floating. Only the tips of Eddie’s fingers cradling his face remain to remind him of his own physical body.
It could be seconds, minutes, hours or even days of his best friend gently massaging his temples, before Eddie’s fingers slip into his hair, carding through and occasionally tugging on the curls now loose from the hair gel he usually uses.
The mattress below him shifts infinitesimally as Eddie’s body moves slightly. A second later, warm lips press to his forehead in a gentle kiss. The next, the hands pull free from his hair and Buck follows the movement of Eddie as he leans back on his side.
On that last pull through his hair, a particular hard tug has Buck’s eyes fly open, as a hiss escapes his lips. As far as he can tell, there is something on Eddie’s hand that had tangled in his curls. Following the movement of his best friend’s hands, a soft glimmer from Eddie’s left ring finger immediately catches Buck’s gaze.
There, on the older man’s left hand, so small and innocent, almost innocuous, sits a golden band. Buck has to squint a bit, to really make it out, the pounding in his head less obvious, but still pressing behind his eyes. Almost without thought, his own hand shoots out and grasps Eddie’s before the older man can pull back.
That is definitely a wedding band, his brain whispers.
“Holy sh*t,” is what leaves his mouth instead of any other thought running through his head. Like any other thought - there actually is no other thought in his head, the more Buck tries to think about it. It’s a constant run of holy sh*t Eddie got married that won’t stop. “Dude, you got married?”
“Buck,” Eddie says, confusion lacing his tone. If Buck didn’t know better, he would describe his best friend’s tone as concerned, maybe even worried. But why would Eddie be any of those? That one word, though, just his name. It is enough to stop the train of thoughts, the circle of thoughts, currently racing through his head. Eddie’s voice cuts through the tension, hitting Buck right in his stomach and making him nauseous with his next words: “What do you remember from last night?”
“I-” he tries to start. It takes a moment, to rearrange his thoughts, to get back on track. The last thing he remembers. Is Ravi in his Indiana Jones costume, abs on full display, tequila shots in hand and ready to kick Buck’s ass at karaoke. But that was fairly early in the night. And there was a lot more alcohol involved after that first song battle, as far as Buck can imagine. “I remember singing with Ravi,” he finally mumbles, “...that first time,” he clarifies.
“Buck,” Eddie repeats, helplessness coloring that one single word.
Buck’s chest feels tight, like a thousand pounds of metal are compressing his ribs. Every single breath feels forced, the air around him still. “Eddie?”
Something about his best friend’s expression, the panic and hurt, the helplessness, the desperation all swirling in his gaze, but the concern - all of it is visible for barely a second, before Eddie takes a single metaphorical step back, leaning away from Buck. The proximity before - the heat and physical comfort - leaving with the older man’s body and leaving Buck feeling bereft and reeling in the cold loneliness.
It takes a full second, Buck counts in his head, before Eddie’s face returns to a carefully neutral expression, and the chocolate brown gaze drops down to Buck’s own hands, sitting idly in his lap. He cannot do anything but follow, a perfect mirror of his best friend in every way, when he catches a glimpse of his own left hand.
There, innocently, fitting perfectly on his ring finger, barely palpable, a matching, golden wedding band sits.
“Oh my God,” Buck breathes into the pregnant pause between them. A heavy sigh in the descending tension of silence. “Oh my f*cking God.”
“Did we-,” Eddie stops abruptly, the words superfluous. Both of them know.
“Oh my God,” Buck repeats once again, barely glancing away from the ring on his finger, “we got married.”
There are a million things running through his mind, but none of them seem substantial enough to hold in his mind for more than a fraction of a second. On a normal day, Buck is running on fumes of ideas, one thought replacing the other within moments, once out of sight they are out of his mind. But this - this is special circ*mstances.
Sometime between leaving the karaoke bar and this morning, Buck decided to get married to his best friend. There is nothing in his brain to indicate why, not a single clue as to how. Just the certainty that it happened, evidence clearly wrapped around both of their fingers.
Another thought crosses his mind - one that is worse than the unsolvable mystery of why Buck married Eddie in the first place. “Oh my God-”
“Buck, I swear to God, if you don’t stop saying that, I will lock you in the bathroom,” Eddie explodes, exasperated. “Stop spiraling!”
Within a second, Eddie’s hands have come up, framing Buck’s face perfectly. A gentle grip holds him in place, as his best friend desperately tries to catch his panicked gaze. Immediately, like a gentle wave lapping through him, Eddie’s surety and calmness seeps into Buck himself, spreading from his head and through his chest into every single one of his limbs.
“Buck, I need you to focus,” Eddie whispers, their faces barely inches apart. There is a slight hint of commanding in his voice, and Buck instinctively lets himself go, wanting to follow his best friend - the man who will always have his back. “Keep breathing with me. In. And out. In. And out. You’re doing so good for me. In. And out. Great.”
They sit there in silence for a few more moments, Buck slowly getting his breathing under control while his best friend keeps whispering soft praise and counting out every single one of their breaths in tandem. “Eddie,” he finally manages to choke out.
“It’s alright,” Eddie soothes, “what is it? What’s got you so worked up again?”
“Eddie! Maddie and Chimney are getting married today!”
It would almost be comical, the way Eddie’s eyes widen in clear panic at the realization. In any other circ*mstance, Buck would laugh at the older man. In any other circ*mstance, he wouldn’t freak out, in bed, naked, married to his best friend.
“Oh f*ck,” the older man finally sighs. Buck watches as Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back as if in silent prayer towards heaven. “I completely forgot about that.”
“What are we going to do? We can’t just roll up with a ‘surprise, we got married in Vegas last night’! That would steal all of their thunder! They’ve been planning that wedding ceremony for literal months. Eddie, I can’t be the reason their perfect day is ruined, I can’t do that to my sister.”
“Okay, cariño, calm down.” Their gazes meet once more as Eddie focuses on him, all intense in that brown gaze, calming all his anxieties with just a few sentences. “We can keep it a secret for today. It’s all okay. We don’t have to tell anyone today. Let your sister have her big day, and we can deal with all of this later.”
Buck feels himself nodding without really thinking about anything at all. Just the security in his best friend’s voice is enough to convince him that everything will be alright. Everything about Eddie helps to quiet his own overactive mind, his racing heart slowing down in a matter of beats.
His face feels warm where the older man’s palms are still pressed tight to his cheeks. Just like before, when Eddie was massaging his headache away, the gentle touch is comforting all on its own, leaving Buck’s brain empty of thoughts.
“Yes, of course,” Buck finally whispers into the scant few inches between their faces. “You’re right. Obviously, you’re right,” a chuckle forces itself out of his throat, “nobody needs to know. We can deal with that mistake later. Find a way to undo it, or whatever.”
With barely any space between them, Buck can only just catch the way his best friend’s face falls immediately at his words. But one blink of his eyes and the expression is gone. The haze in his brain is almost enough to convince him that he must have imagined it. But no - Eddie’s face actually fell for a moment, as if the older man lost control of his expression for a second.
“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles, sounding more dejected than Buck would expect from him. “Undo the mistake. Sure. If that’s what this is.”
And that makes him stop. The way Eddie speaks, the slightly dejected expression.
Is this-?
His thought gets interrupted right there as a loud knock sounds from their hotel room door. Barely a second later, Hen’s voice rings through the still closed door: “Up and at ‘em, boys, we need to leave in half an hour. Get yourselves presentable and come down to check out as soon as possible!”
Immediately upon the intrusion into their shared space of sworn secrecy, Buck watches as Eddie jumps to put space between them. The older man literally jumps away from Buck and stumbles from the bed, feet planted awkwardly on the plush carpet and perfectly glorious ass on full display from where Buck is still half-sitting, half-lying on the bed.
“We’re almost ready!” Eddie yells, already ducking to pick up the discarded pink suit from the ground.
“Wait,” Buck whispers, just in case Hen is still standing in front of their door, even if she probably can’t hear them inside. “Eddie, we have to talk! What was that just now?”
“Buck.” Eddie sounds entirely defeated, even just on that one choked out word. Just his own name.
It puts a weight on Buck’s chest, his ribs pressing down on his lungs, no way for air to enter his body. Anxiety rises in his throat like bile, a lump of it forming and effectively cutting off the last flows of air he can gasp into his lungs. “No, Eddie, please. Talk to me.”
“I just-,” Eddie’s voice cuts out, but Buck can still hear the emotions reflecting in the sound. “You don’t remember, Buck, none of last night. So apparently, this,” here the older man gestures between the two of them, indicating something that Buck cannot think about just now, won’t let himself think about, “this, was a drunken mistake. I cannot deal with that right this moment. Not today. Let’s talk about it later, after the wedding.”
“No, wait, let me process all of this. Give me a moment.”
“We don’t have a moment, we have half an hour at the most. I’m gonna go shower, in the meantime.”
“Eddie-,” Buck almost whines. “Don’t do this. Don’t take yourself out of this situation now. If I let you get away now, we’ll never talk about it.”
But as he is speaking, he watches as Eddie sighs and turns to head to the bathroom. Immediately, Buck is scrambling off the bed and following - his entire naked situation fully forgotten - just to catch up to his best friend.
Again, Eddie just sighs. “What’s the plan here, cariño, huh? Are you just gonna shower with me?”
And maybe it is slightly insane. Buck certainly feels slightly insane for his reaction. But, letting Eddie go now, he knows it would be a mistake. “Yes, actually.”
Maybe it is the conviction in his voice, or maybe it is the sheer stupidity of what he just said, but his words leave Eddie stopping dead in his tracks, standing just in front of him. Buck has to steer to the right in the last second to avoid literally running into his best friend, frozen still in the doorway to the en suite bathroom.
After an awkward second that feels like it might be years long after all, Eddie just bursts out laughing. Loud guffaws of unbridled joy spill out of his best friend like he hasn’t heard in a long while. And it’s such a stark contrast to Eddie one or even two years ago - the man who had a breakdown and smashed his entire bedroom - and the man standing in front of him now. Nothing about those two images of Eddie are even comparable in his mind.
But despite everything, it is still Eddie. It is his best friend. It is his husband, as Buck’s mind unhelpfully supplies.
“Dios, you are an absolute idiot,” the older man forces out between bouts of laughter. “I understand why we got married right away in the middle of the night, for sure.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buck finally asks, jabbing his elbow somewhere into the region of Eddie’s ribs, effectively bullying his best friend into the en suite. He is not quite sure whether he missed his target or not, because he doesn’t trust himself to look and take in the wide expanse of golden tan skin fully on display before him.
Because, yeah. That is Eddie. That’s his best friend. But that’s also his husband. Something happened between them after way too much alcohol, and one thing apparently led to another, and now they are married, woke up naked and spooning in the same bed.
It feels like whatever Buck is missing in his memories might be very important, indeed, to solve this mystery.
But somewhere in the back of his mind, the part that was quiet until Tommy kissed him in his own kitchen, repressed and never quite taken a look at in his life before. That part. It roars to life every time his brain so much as dares to brush towards the idea of matching rings on his and Eddie’s hands. It consumes all higher brain power and leaves him a blushing, stumbling mess. No thoughts, head empty, only gay.
For a second, Buck thinks this should have been a clue.
The next, there is a way more pressing thought in the back of his head. Specifically that part that was awoken thanks to one Tommy Kinard, who Buck is technically still dating.
And isn’t that a thought.
As he climbs into the sizable shower right alongside his husband, there is the thought of his boyfriend that comes knocking. As the water warms, hitting him square in the chest and splashing over onto Eddie’s broad form, Buck has the worst realization yet.
“I’m a cheater,” he breathes, and prays he is quiet enough to not be heard over the spray of water.
According to Eddie’s face when he spins around, his prayers remain unanswered by whichever God has decided to forsake Buck today. Chocolate brown eyes, comically large, widened in shock, find his own blue gaze. His best friend’s lips drop open into the perfect shape of an ‘o’ and for a single moment, Buck wonders if they kissed last night. What Eddie’s lips might feel like. What they taste like. “Oh f*ck. Neither of us are single, are we?”
“Oh God, Eddie. You’ve been dating Marisol for months at this point. I’m dating Tommy. What the f*ck have we done?”
“It’s- it’s fine, we deal with it, right?”
“What does that even mean?” Buck can feel his thoughts spiraling. The same old melody of f*cking up and trying, nothing but trying, but never succeeding, never being good enough. “Like, we don’t tell anyone today?”
“Okay, wait, priorities. We have to be out of here in 20, gimme-,” Incredulously, Buck watches as Eddie makes a grab for the soap, lathering himself up almost effortlessly. “-here, you stink.”
“At least you can still joke, idiot.”
But without further complaint, Buck follows his best friend’s example. He tries desperately to keep his eyes anywhere but on the older man’s chest, muscled arms, thick thighs. In a desperate act of self-preservation, he raises his eyes to heaven and starts silently praying.
“Okay, Buck, querido, it’s fine. Today, we keep our mouths shut. Nobody needs to know. And then, we can figure it out. I’ll contact my lawyer, see what we can do, if you actually want to… I don’t know? Get this marriage annulled? Get a divorce? It sucks, but we’ll figure it out.”
It sounds like a solid plan. That is what Buck keeps holding onto during the shower, and getting dressed. Silence reigning between both of them, but the weight of the ring on his finger keeps pulling him back to Eddie, a force of gravity, magnetism that won’t let him walk too far away from his best friend.
For some reason, finding the marriage certificate in the mess that is their hotel room, that is what breaks Buck’s brain, in the end. Seeing both their full names signed with care, not a shaky line in sight, it makes his heart beat faster, the blood rushing through his veins. There is warmth spreading through his chest, filling every single cell of his body.
Sending a single glance in Eddie’s direction, making sure his best friend is somewhat busy enough not to notice him, Buck mutters under his breath: “I will figure out what happened last night,” and even quieter, “and whatever I did last night, I’ll do it again, and I will keep you in love with me.”
--
As it turns out, a four hour drive back to Los Angeles, which was planned as a fun road trip, is actually less fun with a giant hangover, and a husband pressed tightly to the side of his own body. Buck has to swallow multiple times to clear the lump from his throat and try to get some moisture back into his mouth. There is not enough water in the world, or in their rental car, that he could drink right now that would make him feel okay about any of this situation.
Subconsciously, Buck finds his thumb brush against the smooth gold of the ring on his finger. Repeatedly, he twists and turns it around and around on his ring finger, just like if it was an anxiety fidget ring. Well, it could be that too, he guesses, for now.
There is an awkward silence in the car, and it makes the nervous flutter in his chest even worse, his lungs feeling too small for all the air he doesn’t get to breathe as he rather chokes on his own complicated feelings.
Eddie, completely silent, sits directly beside him, in the middle seat in the back of the car, even though there is a free space right next to the window as well. They are pressed together from shoulder to ankle, and from time to time, Buck can make out the stolen glances from his husband. Out of the corner of his eye, he just keeps watching Eddie’s face remain carefully neutral, hands folded in his lap, but the occasional twitch of fingers as if his best friend was playing with his wedding ring as well.
In the front, Ravi is driving, seeing as their youngest member probably was the least drunk out of all of them, and neither Hen nor Karen wanted to be part of their road trip home. Whenever he isn’t caught up in watching Eddie, Buck catches Ravi’s careful eyes in the rearview mirror, bouncing between him and his best friend as if the youngest of them is waiting for someone to spill some big secret.
That - more than anything else - makes Buck feel queasy, his stomach rumbling and gurgling ominously, as if one wrong move might make him hurl up his breakfast coffee in just the right moment. He feels completely seen by one of the people who should know absolutely nothing, but then again, Buck never thought that Ravi might be unobservant.
The only reason why Ravi might be quiet and not asking the obvious question he wants to ask seems to be Chimney, catching a nap in the passenger seat, slumped against the door with his head resting precariously against the cold window. As far as Buck can tell, the groom-to-be is sleeping peacefully, his breath slightly fogging up the glass in front of him.
In a weird way, Buck feels envious that Chimney can just sleep through this entire ride, get out of the car and marry the love of his life, probably feeling rested and relaxed and no trace of their previous night left over. Internally, he curses his soon-to-be brother-in-law for getting to nap while he has to suffer through the nausea-inducing adrenaline-bomb of this entire situation. Maybe, and just slightly, he curses himself for not remembering last night and what led him to make the decisions he ended up making with his best friend.
“Hey,” Eddie finally whispers, breaking the train of thought Buck was about to head down. Even though his best friend’s voice is barely louder than the radio softly humming some soft pop rock song in the front seat, he manages to shatter the delicate silence of the interior of the car. Buck catches another one of Ravi’s heavy glances at the two of them. “You’re okay, cariño. Everything’s okay, I promise.”
Slowly Eddie’s hand glides over his thigh and comes to rest on top of his own fidgeting fingers, as Buck simply cannot do anything but observe the gesture. He wants to ask what his best friend is doing, but instead he finds himself frozen in place, all feeling leaving his body, only the warmth of Eddie’s body pressing into him registering.
He barely knows how he gets anything to come out of his mouth in that moment, but a tiny questioning gasp of a sound somehow crawls up his throat and ends up forced out as a single “Huh?”
“You’re fine, there’s no reason for your anxiety. Everything’s going to be okay.” Eddie, still whispering directly into his ear, sends an obvious glare towards Ravi, who Buck can see immediately averts his gaze in the rearview mirror. “Talk to me, Buck.”
“I just-,” but he doesn’t actually know what he wants to say. There’s nothing but anxiety and adrenaline in his bloodstream, no discernable feeling to trace back to that could cause any of this. It’s a reaction of fight or flight, and Buck is freezing. “Eddie,” he finally almost sobs out.
“Shhh,” Eddie hushes him, his tone taking on the soothing calm he knows his best friend uses when Christopher is upset, “I’m here. Just take a deep breath for me.”
It almost works, the air being forced into his lungs thanks to the soft command of his best friend. But the breath still rattles around in his lungs, does not want to cooperate, his airway rejecting every attempt at a normal pattern of taking calming breaths.
Oh so gently, Eddie’s hand squeezes his own, still intertwined in his lap, their rings clicking together, barely audible over the car radio, but sounding so loud to his own ears.
“Do you guys need a moment? Do you want me to pull over?” For a moment, the new voice confuses Buck. He was so focused on Eddie trying to calm him that he somehow forgot about everyone else in the car. But snapping back into reality, he finds Ravi’s eyes on them. Eddie himself is looking at Buck expectantly, letting him make that particular choice.
Slowly, he lowers his head onto his best friend’s shoulder, burying his face in the crook between Eddie’s neck and shoulder and inhaling his scent. It helps, the shared warmth of their bodies, his best friend just a solid weight, a support beam for him to lean on and take comfort. “No,” he says, gentle but decisive, in the end. “No, I think I’ll be okay. Just the hangover. I’ll nap a bit, if that’s okay with you two.”
He watches as Eddie and Ravi exchange a look, an entire conversation happening between the two men that Buck isn’t privy to, and does not really want to have to follow either, if he is being honest with himself. At the youngest man’s slight nod, Buck lets himself succumb to the emotional exhaustion washing over him, his eyes already dropping.
The last thing he consciously feels is his best friend moving to be more comfortable in the middle seat, turning his head and pressing his lips to the crown of Buck’s head in what he assumes to be a soothing gesture. A soft voice flows through his ear and makes a home in his brain: “Sleep, cariño, I’m watching over you.”
--
In the end, they arrive just in time for the wedding.
Thanks to the fact that Chimney had slept the entire four hour drive back to LA, he looks completely refreshed and ready to get married, despite all the alcohol he sweats out of his system. Especially once he is in his tux, Buck can barely see any hint of last night’s shenanigans.
But as soon as they arrive, Buck is separated from the rest of his road trip companions by May, who is already dressed in one of Maddie’s bridesmaids’ gowns, as she shepherds him off to the bride-to-be’s suite. With one last glance over his shoulder, right to the place where Hen takes Eddie’s arm and starts guiding him towards Chimney’s room to get ready, Buck starts walking away. At the last possible moment, he thinks he catches his best friend’s gaze across the room, Eddie looking as unhappy about being split up as Buck himself feels.
Getting ready is an entire whirlwind of activity. There are dozens of people fluttering around Maddie at all times, fixing her hair, fluffing up her dress, putting last gentle touch-ups on her makeup.
And during all of it, as Buck watches his sister get ready for her wedding, the happiest day of her life, he mourns the fact that he doesn’t remember a single thing about his own turmoil of a wedding last night. He imagines the giddiness that must have swept through him, through Eddie, just for them to want to get married as soon as possible. He imagines the way they must have straightened their shirts and suit jackets, how he must have run his hands through his best friend’s hair to tame it, or maybe mess it up more.
Throughout the entire process of getting ready, it just leaves him empty, bereft of any emotion at all and he finds himself mourning all the lost memories, instead of focusing on creating new wonderful memories with his sister.
“Buck!” Maddie calls, and judging by the tone of her voice, it is not the first time she tried to get his attention. “Come on - we have to get going! They’re all just waiting for me! What’s gotten into you?”
It rips him out of his thoughts, finally able to focus on his sister - his beautiful sister, who looks even more beautiful in her white gown, her hair long and curling around her face and shoulders, the crown-like piece sitting atop her head gracefully. Her eyes are big and round with concern - directed at him, he realizes belatedly.
And as he stares at his sister’s oh so brown eyes, he finds that the words just want to slip out of him without his consent. There was never any secret that wasn’t eventually shared with Maddie, throughout his entire life. This is no different.
“I got married to Eddie last night,” he admits, confesses to her, in the gentlest whisper he can muster up. “And I don’t want to steal your thunder today of all days, so I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, but I can’t remember any of it and I think I’ve been freaking out about it since I woke up this morning.”
“Oh, Buck.” The way she says his name. The exact same way Maddie had said it when they were kids, patching up his wounds one after another, with gentle touches, soft words and tiny kisses to his scrapes. All a ploy to make him feel better.
“I don’t- We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he finally stutters out, as the tension grows around him in the room, Maddie frozen in place before him. “I just- I can’t keep it in and I needed to tell you, but we have to get out there now. After all, Chim is waiting for you!”
He forces a smile, prays to any God out there that it is convincing enough, if not for his sister then for the rest of the waiting wedding party, at least.
But Maddie doesn’t let up. She fixes him with a heavy gaze, concern etched into her features. “You know you can talk to me at any time, right? About anything and everything, I promise. If you need a little more time to think about all of it before you want to talk, that is fine. But you just dropped something big on me, you know that, right?”
“I know, Madds,” Buck admits, his fake smile making way for a small, but genuine quirk of his lips. “But you’re getting married now! I promise I’ll talk to you. Tomorrow, I’ll come over and we’ll have that talk. Let me walk you down the aisle, ignore my moping for today, okay?”
Her eyes soften immediately, and as Buck watches, Maddie takes a deep breath and blinks away the tears that are gathering in her eyes. “I love you, Evan, you’re the best little brother I could have ever asked for.”
Embarrassingly, he feels his own eyes well up with tears. “Don’t make me cry before the ceremony even starts,” he jokes, instead of sobbing hysterically and falling into her arms, like he actually wants to do. “I love you too, Maddie. Let’s get you out there to your man.”
Buck manages to walk Maddie down the aisle, just barely keeping it together, as he finds all the faces of all their friends and family lighting up with joy. He imagines that his sister and him must make quite the stunning pair as they walk through the crowd to the altar where Chimney is eagerly waiting. In the end, he ends up standing right next to his sister, a pillar of comfort and support for her on her special day.
During the ceremony, his eyes wander over the crowd. He spots Karen, beaming at Hen who is standing, in a mirror of his own position, right next to Chimney. Further in the back, there are Christopher and Denny and Harry, all huddled together, with Carla and Athena flanking them and keeping them in line.
When Chimney starts his vows, Buck lets his gaze search for his own husband in the crowd, only to find Eddie already staring right back at him, a soft smile on his best friend’s face, tears gleaming in his eyes as they threaten to fall and roll down his cheeks. Warmth blooms in Buck’s chest, as he recognizes the pure affection aimed at him as such. It’s a stray thought that catches in his brain, but it is there nonetheless. It makes his heart skip a beat, steals the air from his lungs in a single gasp and for a moment, the feeling in his chest is so big, he has to avert his gaze to learn to control himself again.
Straying from Eddie’s watchful eyes, no feelings hidden in his best friend’s chocolate orbs, Buck tries to focus on the other guests again, as Maddie launches into her vows. He finds, even further in the back than the kids and Carla even, in a navy suit, sits Tommy Kinard, eyes trained somewhere between Maddie and Chimney and Buck himself.
Realization rushes over him like a cold shower of rain.
Oh.
That man is supposed to be his date. That is technically his boyfriend, sitting in the last row, watching the proceedings like a hawk - or rather like a vulture ready to descend on the carnage that is Buck’s heart, flayed open as it is after this entire confusing entity of a morning.
When their eyes finally meet, Tommy grins, like nothing is out of the ordinary. Like Buck wasn’t just making eyes at his best friend. Like there isn’t a marriage certificate somewhere stuffed into his backpack that declares him guilty as sin.
Hesitantly, he returns the smile, before letting his eyes swipe away from the guests entirely to focus on his sister, just as Bobby, officiating, finally says “You may now kiss the bride.”
Immediately, loud cheers and applause break out, a single wolf whistle can be heard from further down the aisle and if Buck had to guess, he would say it was Albert. But none of that really matters or registers to him, because before Maddie and Chimney literally run off into their life together, his sister turns to him with a knowing glint in her eye and in a matter of seconds lets him know: “Enjoy the party, we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”
--
For most of the reception, Buck manages to avoid both Eddie as well as Tommy. But then again, he is desperately trying to avoid his parents as well, so he is essentially just ducking away every time anyone who isn’t Bobby, Athena or Christopher tries to talk to him. It is a surprisingly effective way to spend his time.
In fact, it works so well that it lulls him into a sense of security as he darts to the grazing table, ideally to find something to purge the taste of champagne from his tongue. He should have known that the universe is out to get him.
As soon as he finds some fancifully arranged cheeses, he feels the heat of another body slide up beside him, boxing him in against the table. Without really meaning to, his head swivels around as a hand makes its home on his lower back and he almost chokes on the piece of brie in his mouth, when he finally comes face to face with none other than Tommy.
“Hi, kid,” the older man teases. “You avoiding me or something?”
Swallowing heavily around the cheese, Buck’s skin crawling slightly, the last remnants of anxiety and guilt making themselves known heavily in the pit of his stomach, he decides his best option is to lie. “No.”
A single, fair eyebrow raises, and Buck suppresses the urge to shiver when Tommy’s hand moves to rest below his suit jacket. “No? Are you sure?” Still with that teasing tone, the older man continues. “I remember you asking me to be your date, but I have barely seen you at all. This entire time, it’s like the earth swallowed you whole.”
“Ha, sorry.” There is a blush forming high on his cheeks, Buck can feel the warmth spreading with each passing second. The last time he felt that - he was drunk last night and the alcohol was making him flush, or maybe it was the idea of Eddie in a matching outfit. He clears his throat. “I’m really sorry. You know how it is, always busy when you’re man of honor at one of these events.”
“Mmhhhh,” his date hums doubtfully. A few tense seconds pass between them, with Buck’s thoughts running a mile a minute, but also no single sentence standing out in his mind. Then Tommy sighs. “Are you upset about last night? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come out to Vegas with all of you.”
“It’s not-,” Buck starts, but finds he does not actually have any words, any plan of where this thought was supposed to go. He has that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that had Tommy been there, the night wouldn’t have ended the way it did. “Thank you. For apologizing. And don’t worry, I get it, you couldn’t come because of work.”
“Yeah, actually, that’s the weirdest thing - I was removed from on call last night, isn’t that ironic?” Tommy laughs, but as soon as the sentence registers with Buck, he feels his face fall.
“Wait, just to understand. You had yesterday off and you didn’t come to the bachelor party?” There is a nagging thought at the back of his mind, but it’s not clear enough yet for Buck to draw any conclusions on it.
There is a moment that might as well have been years of time between them before Tommy awkwardly clears his throat. As Buck watches, his date reaches for one of the crackers on the grazing table, popping it into his mouth and chewing languidly.
“So what were you doing last night?”
“How about we dance a bit?” Tommy interjects. “Let you show me off as your boyfriend for a bit, huh?”
Something in the co*cky tone his current boyfriend is using makes bile rise in his throat. But he swears to himself he will not cause a scene at his sister’s wedding, if he can help it.
From the corner of his eye, he can make out Ravi staring intensely at the two of them. Buck turns his head slightly to look at the younger firefighter. He finds not just Ravi watching them, but further away, he catches sight of Eddie, champagne still held in his hand, and Bobby, eyebrows seemingly raised in concern.
“Yeah,” Buck breathes, still staring at his friends instead of the man he is talking to, “yeah, let’s do it. One dance.”
He finds himself led to the dancefloor with a hand pressed to the small of his back, pressed between all of his friends - his family - and he can feel their eyes burning into the back of his neck. Tommy seems to be unaware, or he is just happily ignoring them, because when Buck looks up, their gazes lock, his boyfriend’s focus entirely on him.
The music, up until now, has been mostly love songs, meant for couples to dance. The universe still seems to be out for him, because the music slows down even further, and Tommy grins at him, as one large hand lands on his waist, pulling him closer.
With horror, Buck watches as his boyfriend grabs his left hand, pulling it up to rest at shoulder height, leaving it in full sight of everyone around, including Tommy himself.
That is the moment it hits Buck. The entire day, the weight of the ring on his finger has faded into the back of his mind. But now, with it entirely on display, he can’t believe he forgot the one incriminating detail visible from last night.
For a split - probably imaginary - second, the ring catches the light perfectly, glinting beautifully in the soft set-up of his sister’s backyard, and reflecting the fairy lights as if they were stars in the night sky.
“What’s this?” Tommy’s voice sounds unaffected, maybe bored, almost definitely indifferent. Buck watches, frozen in place, as the older man turns his hand first towards his own body, then to his dance partner’s, admiring the ring from multiple different angles. “Trying out jewelry?”
“Tommy-”
“You weren’t wearing that the last time we saw each other. If I remember correctly, it also wasn’t part of your costume last night. At least I didn’t see it in the selfie you sent.”
“This isn’t-”
“-what it looks like?” His boyfriend’s voice turns hard and cold like stone. “Spare me the details and answer my question. What is this?”
Buck doesn’t know how to answer. His heart pounds in his chest, blood rushing through his veins and drowning out the sounds of the wedding reception taking place around them. The music fades away to nothing, and so do the hushed conversations. He doesn’t know if the entire rest of the wedding party is watching his imminent doom, or if he is simply imagining things.
“Tommy, let’s not do this here. Not now,” Buck finds himself pleading, his voice hushed, barely audible over the music.
“Evan, what is this?”
“Tommy.”
“Evan.”
His mouth is dry, and he barely knows how any words are still coming out of his mouth. But somehow, through all the adrenaline in his body, through the fight or flight reflex building up inside him, he forces out the truth: “I might have gotten married last night in Vegas.”
“You got married.” It’s not a question. There is barely any emotion in the words, Tommy just staring at his hand, at the wedding ring. “You went to Vegas with a bunch of people from your team and you got married?”
He doesn’t trust himself to answer, so he just nods. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can still feel the stares of his friends boring into his back. For just a moment, he is tempted to see if anyone at all is close enough to rescue him from this situation, but then Tommy swivels around himself, and to Buck’s absolute horror, finds Eddie’s gaze immediately.
Almost instantly, Buck can feel the tension in the room skyrocketing. His boyfriend and his husband - and holy sh*t, isn’t that a weird thought - are just staring at each other for a few seconds before Buck can make out Tommy’s gaze dropping to Eddie’s own hand, wrapped around the glass of champagne he is sipping idly.
The matching wedding ring is glinting, reflecting the lights just like Buck’s had done, unmissable when one is looking for it.
“You know what?” Tommy starts as he turns back to face Buck again, his voice cold as ice and devoid of any emotion. “I knew you weren’t in this, weren’t interested in me at all, but this? This is a f*cking low blow, Buckley. You know he doesn’t love you, right? What did you even do to trick him into marrying you? Or don’t you remember, huh?”
The words his boyfriend is spitting are vile, but they bore into Buck’s brain like a telepathic lance, taking all his negative emotions and giving them something to hold onto, to burrow deeper under his skin and infect him. He feels sick, his stomach twisting and turning, the champagne bubbling as if in a cauldron, about to boil over.
Once more, he pleads: “Tommy - please don’t do this here and now. Let’s go somewhere more private, but don’t-”
“No, f*cking shut up,” the older man forces out, his voice deathly quiet, but to Buck they are louder than if his boyfriend were screaming. Tommy, still standing close from the plan to dance, pushes even further into Buck’s space. Those two inches the older man has on him are more evident than ever before, as Tommy uses his entire height to intimidate him and make him cower. “I knew you were a slu*t, but you are this desperate to get f*cked by him? That you plan an entire bachelor party to drag him to Vegas so you can get him drunk and make him marry you? God, you are so depraved. Nobody will ever love you enough to want to spend the rest of their life with you, Evan, so you had to trick someone into it?”
It only takes a moment from the start of Tommy’s rant, in between one blink of his eyes and the next, a large hand lands heavily on the older man’s shoulder, effectively pulling him away from Buck’s body. Barely a second later, with Tommy still clutching onto his hand, the wedding band still shining in the light, a fist flies and hits his boyfriend right in the face. With a shocked grunt that, even to Buck’s ears, sounds painful, Tommy is wrenched away, and pushed to the ground.
Almost immediately, Buck is forced back into the reality of the situation. Standing in the middle of the dancefloor, he can finally hear the silence that has descended over the backyard, the music cut out, conversations halted, just empty nothingness where sound should be. For a single moment, nothing happens.
Then everything happens as people start moving frantically.
The first thing he is aware of is the pair of hands reaching out to him, grabbing his shoulders firmly, but with a surprising gentleness. Even with just that split second of seeing them, he can make out the bruises already forming over the knuckles, the blood seeping sluggishly where the skin has cracked open.
The second thing he focuses on is the worried look on Eddie’s face, as his best friend - his husband, his brain reminds him carefully - finally steps fully into Buck’s view. “Buck? Cariño, talk to me. Are you okay?”
Before he can even think over the question, Athena is beside them, forcefully pulling Tommy to his feet and, even though she is several inches smaller than the man, she effectively cages him in and bullies him from the dancefloor. On her way out, she throws a worried glance towards Buck, a gentle hand landing on his shoulder and squeezing exactly once.
Not even a second later, Maddie full on barrels into him, wrapping her arms around his body and squeezing him tighter than ever before. “Oh my God, Evan. What just happened?” But taking him in for a moment, she seems to decide that her question isn’t worth it. “Come on, let’s get you inside, we can talk about all of this later.”
Already chattering a mile a minute, Maddie grabs his hand and starts pulling him away from the scene of the crime. Away from Eddie, who Buck watches be left behind, alone, in the middle of the dance floor, knuckles bloody, eyes a pool of concern, hands still raised and that damned ring still reflecting the fairy lights.
--
When he finally wakes up, Buck is disoriented. He doesn’t recognize the ceiling when he opens his eyes. The bedside table also is unfamiliar to him, but at least his phone is plugged in and tells him that it is barely past 10 in the morning.
A soft knock sounds on his door, before it is opened barely a smidgen. There are tiny feet pattering down the hallway, no hesitation at all, as Jee-Yun stumbles into the room. “Uncle Buck!” his niece yells excitedly, as she makes her way over to the bed and flops down heavily, directly on top of him.
“Oof.” The wind is knocked out of him, just now catching up with the fact that he is seemingly in Maddie’s guest room. But that does not stop him from greeting his favorite niece with the appropriate salutation she deserves. So, matching her enthusiasm, he cheers: “Good morning, princess!”
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he hears from the doorway. He only takes his eyes off Jee-Yun, when she has finally made herself comfortable between his chest and arm, half-lying on his bicep and giggling to herself. Then, he lets himself meet his sister’s eyes. “We just wanted to know if you’re awake yet. Which you are,” she laughs, before sobering again, “When you feel like it, there’s some coffee and breakfast. Chim is making omelets before we have to leave.”
“I thought you were going on your honeymoon next month?”
“We are, but the Lees were kind enough to offer to take Jee for today, so we can actually enjoy some married bliss, their words, not mine. We have to drop her off at noon,” Maddie, with her too-knowing brown eyes, stares at him for another long moment, before she shakes herself out of it, sending him a small smile. “Get up and bring Jee, okay, Evan? I was promised a conversation.”
Swallowing heavily, he glances at his niece, cuddled up to him as she is. There is a heavy nothingness inside him, just a pure black hole in the center of his chest, swallowing all his emotions. Dr. Copeland would probably tell him that it is a trauma response - a way to avoid thinking about what has happened and his feelings in regards to the entire mess of a situation. But knowing that his family is there, ready to support him, it takes some of the weight off his shoulders, loosening the power of the black hole.
He takes one last long glance at the ceiling, blank as it is, running his hand through Jee-Yun’s hair carefully, to show her affection as well as to gain some comfort for himself. “Okay, princess, let’s go. Your daddy probably has the food ready. Let’s go, I could eat a whole horse by myself!”
Making his way to the kitchen feels like arming himself for battle. Building up emotional walls, that no doubt will be knocked over within seconds of Maddie giving him that look and Chimney being his usual self of a supportive older brother. Holding his niece on his hip, balancing her carefully, feels like taking up a shield. Another deep breath to fortify his armor, he steps through the doorway.
“Morning,” he greets Chimney, who is entirely too focused on the pan on the stove, in Buck’s professional opinion. Meanwhile, Maddie is already seated at the table, cup of coffee in hand and eyeing him carefully as he hands Jee-Yun over to her. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, so he decides to make a joke instead: “When does the interrogation begin, again?”
“Haha,” Chimney answers sarcastically, completely deadpan, without even turning away from the stove. “Great one, Buck. Deflection doesn’t work here. What the f*ck happened last night?”
“Um-,” Buck starts, trying to drag out the inevitable conversation as long as possible. Instead of answering, he goes in search of more coffee, taking his sweet time to mix in the right amount of creamer, before carefully sitting down at the table, directly in front of his sister. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have no idea what you are talking about?”
“No,” both Chimney and Maddie say in unison.
“For the record,” he starts, “that was creepy. And I also didn’t think so.”
“Evan,” Maddie says softly, her hand reaching out and covering his own where it is curled tightly around the mug of coffee. “We don’t have to talk about this, but I would like an explanation. You can say no, of course you can, but we can help. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone.”
There, right behind his sternum, his heart swells ten sizes and beats thrice as loud as it usually does, just because his friends - his family - love him so much. There are so many emotions inside his body, remnants of bygone days as well as fledglings of feelings just being born.
Immediately, all his carefully crafted walls burst, falling apart brick by boring brick, tears gathering in his eyes and a lump in his throat. He tries to swallow around it, but instead, a sob rises: “Maddie-”
“Oh, Buck,” she breathes, already moving to hug him. “It’s alright. Just, take a deep breath and start at the beginning. We can fix everything, together.”
Stealing a single glance at Chimney, now fully turned around, his entire attention on the siblings now that the pan is removed from the stove, Buck hiccups sadly. “Yesterday, after the bachelor party. I woke up in bed with Eddie. Naked,” somewhere from the stove, there is the sound of choking, “and with rings on our fingers. We got married sometime between the bachelor party ending and getting back to our hotel. I have the marriage certificate and it seems to be legit, as far as I can tell.”
“Holy sh*t, Buck,” Chimney mumbles.
“I know,” he almost sobs, letting his head crash to the surface of the table. “But I don’t remember anything from that night, so I don’t know what happened. And we didn’t want to tell anyone because Eddie is trying to contact his lawyer to see how we can get it annulled, but I forgot to take off the ring. And Tommy saw. And-”
“Stop, wait, just a moment,” his sister interjects. “That’s why Tommy was yelling at you. He saw the ring?”
“Must have,” Chimney answers before Buck even has the chance to. “And obviously, he knew it was Eddie right away, because there never was any question on who Buck would marry given the chance.”
“Hey,” even though he feels the need to object to that, there is no heat in his voice. The longer he thinks about it, the more he realizes that his brother-in-law is completely right with that assessment.
“But you said, Eddie is contacting his lawyer about getting the marriage annulled, right?” Maddie waits patiently for him to nod before she continues. And when she finally does, the question hits him right in the stomach, puncturing him and gutting him at the same time. “Do you want to get this marriage annulled?”
“I-,” he starts, but immediately stops again. “I don’t know?”
“Well, look at it this way. Imagine your life in 5 years, or even 10 years down the line. What do you see?”
Glancing between Maddie, Chimney and Jee-Yun, Buck takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He imagines family get-togethers at the Grant-Nash household, Bobby clapping him on the shoulder like any dad would do, while he helps with making the burgers. He imagines Hen and Karen and a full gaggle of kids surrounding them. He imagines Maddie and Chimney and little Jee-Yun growing up and becoming the best parts of her parents. In his mind’s eye, he sees May and Ravi and Albert all hanging out and making stupid jokes that inevitably lead to them doing something stupid together.
And then he focuses on himself. Standing besides Bobby, it is easy to miss the way his body is angled towards the other source of warmth next to him. But once he lets himself think it, it is so clear before him: there, in his imagination, is Eddie, a hand on his lower back, just a gentle touch, a reminder that he is there. Even through his shirt, he can feel the cold metal of Eddie’s wedding ring digging into his back.
For just a moment he thinks he would love to kiss Eddie. Just to know what it would be like. He would love to touch Eddie, cuddle with him, wake up next to him, run his hands through the older man’s hair. He sees himself raising Christopher and adopting a dog and a cat. He thinks about the way they are - the BuckAndEddie of it all - and -
- Oh.
“Oh,” he breathes into the silence that has spread comfortably around the kitchen. “I’m in love with Eddie.”
It should be an earth-shattering realization, but somehow it just makes sense. There is a distinct feeling of rightness that settles in him at the notion that this might be it. That the missing puzzle piece was sitting right before his eyes, in plain sight, and Buck was just too close to really nudge it into place all this time.
“Oh thank God, finally,” Chimney cheers, sounding entirely too gleeful at Buck’s realization. “You wouldn’t believe how exhausting it has been to watch you two dance around each other.”
“Howie, now’s not the time,” Maddie warns her husband sharply, as she seems to take in Buck’s own awestruck expression. Then she turns back to him. “Evan? How are you doing with that realization?”
“Maddie,” his voice sounds thin, fleeting away with the wind, “He’s my best friend.”
“So what? Chimney’s my best friend. And I married him yesterday.”
“Yeah,” he finally says, with Chimney and Maddie both watching him intensely. “God, he’s my best friend. And I love him so much.” Finally he makes eye contact with the happily married couple. “I don’t want to get this annulled, I want him forever. Whatever led to us wanting to get married - I’ll do it again. Just you wait and see, I’m going to keep him in love with me!”
--
Thus, Buck devises a plan.
It’s a five step plan he intends to follow: find out what happened - figure out what exactly made Eddie say yes - talk to Christopher about courting his dad - trick Eddie into dating him - profit.
“Okay, maybe this needs some more planning,” he mumbles to himself, sitting in the kitchen area of the station loft, scrawling his plan onto a piece of paper Bobby left lying around on the table. After a moment of hesitation, he scratches out the numbers in front of his bullet points and puts a little “1” before his plan to speak to Christopher. Then he grins. “That’s better.”
“No! I’m telling you-,” Chimney stage-whispers excitedly to Hen, as they’re sitting on the couches, their attention having left their Mario Kart tournament a good 15 minutes ago, as they are obviously gossiping.
Having his realization right in front of the one person who cannot keep a secret if his life depended on it probably wasn’t his best idea ever. But then again, he had just come off of 24 hours of bad ideas in general, and between an accidental marriage and a half-assed plan of keeping said marriage secret, but not removing the most visible piece of evidence, realizing he is in fact in love with his best friend ranks on a good third place for sure.
But when Buck walked in earlier, at the beginning of his shift, and had seen Chimney beeline for Hen, with a crazed look in his eyes that said “I know something. Do you know something?”, well, all his hopes of keeping his feelings a secret flew right out of the window.
It’s not that he’s feeling any particular way about it - he’s happy that it’s Hen that Chimney is talking to, it is way more preferable than Bobby, or say, Eddie himself, in the worst case scenario. But it does guarantee him a few curious glances from darling Henrietta for the rest of their shift for sure.
He is so deeply focused on Chimney and Hen, he almost misses the footsteps walking up the stairs and coming closer. Just as he swipes the piece of paper with his plan on it from the table, a new travel size cup of coffee is placed right by his elbow and Eddie plops down heavily into the chair beside him with a defeated sigh.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Buck smiles, already a teasing lilt to his voice, especially curling around the pet name as he watches the older man slump in his seat even further.
“Don’t even,” Eddie sighs heavily again, “It’s already been a day. My alarm didn’t go off and Chris couldn’t find his homework, so we were already rushing to school, but then I forgot that call with my lawyer - sorry, our lawyer, since -,” he waves his hand once sharply, the wedding band on full display, “- you know. And then there was so much traffic. It’s been a day.”
“Sorry, baby, that must have been hard. I can feel your pain,” Buck puts on an exaggerated pout, turning up the teasing to a thousand. “What can I do for you to take away some of that stress? A massage maybe? Or you could crash in the bunk room and I’ll do some of your chores?”
“You are a literal heaven-sent,” Eddie responds, with a defeated groan already halfway up from his chair and on the way to the bunks. “I have toilet duty today, just so you know, honey.”
For a moment, Buck can feel the teasing smile slip from his face, immediately replaced by the disgust of having to clean the bathroom shared by all firefighters at the 118. “Wait, Eddie-,” he finally yells, the rest of his best friend’s words catching up to him, “what did the lawyer say?”
He watches as Eddie sighs again - and man, he must be having the worst day ever, just judging by the amount of heavy breaths he has been taking since he stumbled up the stairs - and turns around, without really making eye contact, taking a step closer to Buck’s position again. “He said it would be fairly easy to get the marriage annulled if we can somehow prove that it wasn’t consummated - which it wasn’t, based on how we woke up. You know, not sticky and no other aches than what you would expect from a normal hangover. That’s the good news.”
“Okay, sounds like that’s a plan. What’s the bad news?”
“Well, our lawyer is pretty booked right now, so we’re gonna have to remain married for about two weeks, until we can come in to sign the papers. And then it should be a matter of weeks to get it approved and get everything annulled.”
Two weeks. Within two weeks, Buck has to convince Eddie somehow to want to stay married. He has to get this plan into action immediately.
“Well, thank you for asking anyway. Get some rest. I’ll take over your toilet chore for today.”
“Thank you,” his best friend breathes. “You are the best husband I could wish for, cariño.”
When Eddie finally takes those last few steps out of the loft and towards the bunk room, Buck takes a deep breath and pulls out his plan again. Softly, a smile creeps up on his lips, and he can still hear the whispers of Hen and Chimney and the sounds of the Mario Kart menu theme tune playing softly from the TV.
Picking up his pen again, he scribbles above his list, adding a nice heading to it. It is now officially the “keeping Eddie in love with me” plan.
--
It takes exactly one twenty-four hour shift for Buck to realize that his plan is entirely dependent on one thing: Christopher Diaz.
Because Christopher might be Eddie’s kid in name, but in all but name, he feels like Buck’s kid too. Technically, with them being married, right now, Christopher is his kid. The thought rumbles around his head for a good eight hours in between calls for minor kitchen fires and rescuing cats from trees.
Obviously, that thought leads down a slippery slope, and Buck finds himself wondering if his best friend has told his kid anything, whether Christopher is aware that they are married. Whether the kid knows what happened between Buck, Eddie and Tommy at the wedding a couple days ago. If Eddie had told Christopher why he punched a person he had formerly considered a friend.
So, he devises a second plan. A plan within a plan, so to speak. It’s like a play within a play, Buck’s had to read A Midsummer Night’s Dream in high school, he knows his metaphors very well. So, plan within the plan, in this case, is a jailbreak, so to speak.
“And you would be?” The bored-looking secretary at the kid’s school barely looks up at him, instead focusing on the computer screen in front of her to pull up Christopher’s file.
“Right, Evan Buckley, Ma’am,” he answers, putting on his most charming smile, “I’m one of Christopher’s emergency contacts and I’m on his approved pick-up list.”
She doesn’t look up at him, and his smile freezes on his face, no way his Buckley charm will work any wonders on her. There is just a single humming noise coming from her.
“Actually, I’m Mr. Diaz’ husband,” he decides to add, “Eddie asked me to come in early to pick up Chris.”
“There is no note about an early pick-up, Mr. Buckley.”
“Yes, I am aware, Christopher left it lying on the kitchen counter this morning. But here,” he pulls the forged note from his back pocket, hoping that the school administration doesn’t care enough to check Eddie’s signature against the one on his note. His heart is pumping faster and faster by the minute, and he can feel the sweat starting to emerge on his forehead. “I brought the note just in case you would need it.”
The secretary takes one look at the note, at the signature on the bottom and the weird squiggle of Buck’s name, and she lets out a defeated sigh. Then, apparently done with their conversation, she leans over to the phone stationed on her desk and speaks into it with the most apathetic tone Buck has heard since his confrontation with Tommy during the wedding: “Christopher Diaz, please report to the office. I repeat, Christopher Diaz -,” she slows down his name and it feels like it drags on for an eternity, “please report to the office.”
It is an agonizing few minutes until the sound of crutches clicking on the tile floor alerts Buck to Christopher approaching. But he shares another tense look with the secretary, before he opens his mouth once more. “Do you want me to sign him out or anything? Otherwise, we’re just gonna take off.”
She holds out a clipboard and a pen, waiting for his signature, just as Christopher ambles through the heavy doors, his backpack slung haphazardly over his shoulders. Once the kid finally looks up and takes in his form, Buck watches as a giant grin sweeps over the teenager’s face. “Buck!”
“Hey, superman!” he laughs. Somehow, the kid always manages to break any tension and grant Buck some piece of mind, sparking joy wherever he goes. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Christopher says, even if his tone is tinged in confusion. “obviously. Where are we going first?”
Taking one more look at the secretary and her complete disinterest in the situation, Buck takes a step forwards, guiding Christopher from the office and out of the building until they’re at his car. “So, buddy, this is a surprise for your dad. He doesn’t know that I’ve picked you up early, and we’re not gonna tell him, okay?”
“Okay, Buck.” The megawatt smile makes another return and Buck feels the warmth settle in his chest, a feeling of contentedness spreading until he has no other emotion but happiness taking over his mind.
“Ok, great.” He sends his own smile towards Christopher, his cheeks already aching with the full extent of his expression of joy. “Then first of all, we’re going grocery shopping because I’m making dinner for you. And then, I have some things I want to talk to you about. But it’s nothing bad, and I just want your honest opinion. Is that cool with you?”
“I’d honestly rather do it now, if you don’t mind,” Christopher mumbles, and a tense silence spreads around the interior of the car. Immediately Buck’s face falls, but before he can answer, the teenager continues: “This is about you and dad getting married, right?”
“You know about that?”
“Yeah,” Christopher says quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “He explained it after the wedding. Why he punched your friend. He just-”
“He wanted to make sure you would understand that violence isn’t the answer, even if people are rude to you. He wanted you to know the whole situation before judging for yourself.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” The silence is growing more tense, or maybe it is the pressure behind Buck’s ribs, compressing his heart and making him feel like he can’t take a breath deep enough to push the next words out of his mouth: “And how are you feeling about all of this?”
Christopher shrugs, seemingly trying to find the words for what he wants to say, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions into something to put out into the world. Buck waits, but nothing comes out of the kid’s mouth.
“Chris, listen,” Buck starts instead, taking all his courage and pulling it together into a string of hopefully coherent sentences. “I know this is a lot to take in and it’s- it came out of nowhere, right?” He waits for the nod. “It did so for me too, but listen. I think I really like your dad. Like, I like like him. But you are my first priority, you always will be, you always have been. So, let me ask you once more, and be completely honest with me: how are you feeling about this situation?”
“You promise you won’t get mad at me?”
“I promise, Chris. If you don’t want me and your dad to be together like that, I will honor that and we will go back to the way we were before, I promise.”
“You pinky promise?” He watches as the teenager holds out his hand in a fist, with only his pinky extended.
“I do,” Buck whispers, interlocking their pinkies together and shaking Christopher’s hand once. For a single moment, he imagines saying these words to another Diaz boy, the same soft cadence of voice, making a vow similar to this one. Choosing the other person’s well-being over his own. “I really do promise, kid.”
“Okay,” Christopher mumbles, still holding onto his hand with a vice-like grip. “Then… Dad said that you wanted to undo it. You didn’t want to be married to him. And-,” the kid takes a shaky breath, “-and I don’t want you to leave. Not like the other people dad has dated. All of them leave, first mom, then Miss Flores, now Marisol. Even Tommy, and I thought dad and him were just friends.”
“Oh, Chris,” Buck sighs, a lump forming in his throat, and his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I would never leave you.”
“But dad-”
“Listen,” he interrupts, forcing the words out. “I don’t remember why your dad said yes to marrying me. I thought he might think it was a mistake, but the longer I’ve been thinking about it - I don’t want to undo it. I want to stay married to your dad. I want to date him for real, let all of us be a family, like we have done before, but now officially. And I promise I will never leave you. So if there is any chance that your dad wants to stay married to me, and you are okay with all of this - of me being part of your family - then I will do everything I can to stay with you. Both of you.”
“Thank you, Buck,” Christopher finally says, voice quiet and gentle, their hands still interlinked over the gear shift of his jeep. “I hope you can work things out with dad, because I want you both to be happy, and you can make us happy. Just don’t leave us, okay?”
“Okay, buddy,” Buck whispers.
Their conversation doesn’t quite end, but topics shift to Christopher’s day at school and the best meal to make at dinner, to maybe end up wooing Eddie, but not be too obvious about it. Christopher is a champ all throughout grocery shopping, and at home, he immediately starts a video game tournament until it is time to prepare dinner.
Overall, step one of his plan seems to work out great.
Until Eddie comes home, that is.
“Evan Buckley!” he hears before his brain even consciously registers the sound of the key in the lock of the front door. “You are in so much trouble, mister!”
In the kitchen, Christopher drops the plastic cup he was holding into the sink, takes one single look at Buck and then lets out a little: “Ooooooh, you are in trouble. I’m gonna get out of here before he sees me, that cool with you?”
Buck finds himself nodding before he even gets a chance to take in what the teenager was saying, too preoccupied with the way his best friend’s heavy boots stomp across the hallway towards the kitchen. “Save yourself while you still can, I’ll take the fall for you.”
“Thanks, Buck,” Christopher grins, stumbling as fast as he can on his crutches out of the kitchen, right as Eddie crests the doorway.
“What the f*ck were you thinking?” his best friend asks, as soon as Buck is in his line of sight. He doesn’t look particularly upset, his voice deadly calm, and for a second, Buck asks himself if make-up sex is an appropriate reaction to Eddie’s stern glance and hard appearance. For a moment, his mind wanders to the gutter and with no conscious thought of his own, he imagines dropping to his knees right then and there, in the middle of his best friend’s kitchen, to beg for forgiveness. “You smuggled him out of school? And I had to learn it from Carla? Are you out of your mind?”
“In my defense, telling the secretary that I was your husband was enough to convince her that I am apparently trust-worthy. So, it’s not entirely my fault.”
“Is it not entirely your fault? Buck, you literally kidnapped my child from school!”
“Again, in my defense, technically, you know, legally, that is both of our child now,” he says, his voice forcefully light to balance out his best friend’s anger. “So technically, I kidnapped my child from school, as well.”
He tries for a soothing smile, but even though he cannot see himself, he feels his face fall into a grimace instead. Eddie’s stern look is not helping the situation either, but Buck holds onto his false bravado.
“Okay, so I should have told you earlier, and I’m sorry,” he takes a hesitant step towards the doorway, holding his hands up placatingly and curling in on himself, just to appear a little smaller before Eddie. The last time he had done this, Christopher had laughed at him and said he looked like a sad puppy. “I really am sorry, but I wanted to talk to Christopher on my own, and I couldn’t really figure out when to do it otherwise. And to show you how sorry I am - I made you some quesadillas for dinner. After your long and hard day, you should have some food.”
“Buck,” Eddie sighs and his shoulders slump. Internally, Buck is already congratulating himself on a successful jailbreak and avoiding the first big fight with his husband. He can feel the smile spreading on his face again. His best friend sighs once more before stepping further into the room, directly into Buck’s own personal space. “You have to tell me these things, cariño. I was worried.”
“I understand. And I’m sorry, Eddie. Won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Good, now be a good husband, and bring me my food out to the couch, it’s movie night. And tell Chris he can come out too, I’m not about to yell at him.”
With the smile firmly in place, Buck turns around to grab the food and plate it. Teasingly, he adds: “Right on it, sir.”
He misses the way Eddie’s face lights up at the sass, but from the doorway, he can hear the bright laughter that his best friend barks out at his sentence. It makes the warmth spread through him again, makes him feel like he is finally home. The fading footsteps he hears turn around suddenly, coming to a halt just inside the kitchen doorway again. “But just so you’re aware, Buckley, I’m making you sleep on the couch tonight for that stunt.”
--
In the end, when Christopher has nodded off leaning against him, the movie’s credits playing quietly in the background, Buck has made peace with sleeping on the Diaz couch instead of going home to his empty loft. Here, there is warmth and comfort and most importantly, family. Nowadays, the loft just feels cold and barren, bereft of anything that could ever make it feel like a home.
So, taking a night sleeping on the couch in a place he likes to call home is better than going anywhere else. Except maybe Eddie’s bed, his brain whispers to him, the absolute traitor putting images into his head of waking up cuddled together like they did at the hotel almost a week ago.
“Hey,” Eddie whispers, catching Buck’s eye over the top of Christopher’s curls, softly pressed into his shoulder as they are, “can you help me get him to bed?”
With a nod, he tries to sit up as quietly and with as little movement as possible, scooping the teenager into his arms easily. With another nod, Buck heaves himself off the couch and starts down the hallway towards Christopher’s room, following his best friend.
Gently putting Christopher down onto his bed, pulling the blankets over his small frame and running his hand through the soft curls, he leans in close. “Good night, buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Love you, kid.”
He thinks he hears a tiny “love you too” coming from the bed as he steps away to let Eddie have his moment, already on his way back to find the sheets from the hallway closet, and make up a bed on the couch.
“You know I was joking when I said I’d make you sleep on the couch, right?” He hears the words not even five minutes later, the gentle footsteps of his best friend announcing his arrival before any words were ever spoken. “Please tell me you know that.”
“I know, Eddie,” Buck laughs, “but I really didn’t feel like driving back to the loft tonight. And you so graciously offered your couch to me.”
He hears a soft snort behind him, as Eddie walks around the offending piece of furniture, coming to rest right in front of Buck on the opposite side of the couch. “Hey, thank you for spending your day with Chris. Even if it happened without my knowledge, I know he loves you and it probably meant a lot to him to play hooky with you today.” Softly, his best friend - his husband - reaches up, hand landing on Buck’s shoulder and sliding until he can cup the back of Buck’s neck, thumb pressing gently into his pulse point. “I appreciate it and you are a great father to him. Truly, Buck, thank you.”
A warm sensation spreads from where Eddie’s hand is resting on his shoulder and rushing through his entire body. His best friend’s words are still ringing in his ears and the moment their full meaning catches up to him, he has to blink several times to get rid of the tears springing up in his eyes.
“I-,” he has to swallow around the lump rising in his throat, clearing his throat softly, once, “I don’t know what to say. But thank you for trusting me with him. I will always put Chris first, no matter what. He will always be my first priority, Eddie.”
“I know.” Eddie regards him with soft eyes, the chocolate of his irises almost looking molten in the darkness that descends over the room. A teasing smirk spreads over his best friend’s face then. “You know I would never marry anyone who doesn’t love Chris as much as you do.”
“Stop sweet-talking me when you’re making me sleep on the couch, darling,” he forces out around the dryness in his mouth, going for a joke instead of the love confession he feels bubbling up in his chest.
“Oh honey, if I was sweet-talking you, you would definitely know,” Eddie responds without missing a beat. “And I wouldn’t do it in the living room with our kid just down the hall. I’d at least sweet-talk you in a room with a lock on the door.”
He feels the flush rising into his cheeks, and before he can even respond, he sees the smirk widen on his best friend’s face. “Shut up,” he grumbles instead.
“Good night, cariño,” Eddie just whispers, his hand still tightly pressed to Buck’s shoulder. “Do remember that Chris will want some pancakes tomorrow morning, so you’ll have to get up earlier than all of us.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Buck laughs.
“Good boy.”
With a loud laugh Eddie disappears out of the living room, leaving Buck and his entire flushed appearance to sag onto the couch, trying to get his heart rate back under control.
--
Falling asleep takes longer than Buck would like. But after an hour of just staring at the ceiling, thinking over every single interaction he has had with Eddie since the wedding, his eyes finally grow heavy enough to close his eyes.
With his sleep, dreams come. And with that come the memories of the night of the bachelor party.
“Good night, Chim!” Buck yells loudly across the private room of the karaoke bar, as Hen and Karen all but drag a very drunk Chimney out and back to the hotel to safely deposit him in his room.
“Night, Buckley!” Chimney responds happily, turning back around with a lurch that pulls him from Karen’s tight grip and almost makes him drop completely to the ground. “Wait. I’m gonna be a Buckley tomorrow as well!”
“That’s not how that works, Chim,” Hen tells him gently, stifling a bright laugh at her best friend’s antics. “But Maddie will be a Han after tomorrow. So there’s that.”
“Oh my God, yeeeaaaah,” Chimney sighs, falling back into Karen’s hold easily. Karen herself seems to be trying to keep in laughter, holding onto her wife and their friend simultaneously, as she sways gently in place, the alcohol finally making itself known at the end of the night.
Beside him, he feels Eddie slip onto another one of the high chairs, his body radiating warmth and making Buck shiver with the intensity of their proximity. A hand is gently resting on his lower back when he tries to lean back into his best friend, steadying him to stop him from dropping to the floor himself.
“Hold on, cowboy, you don’t need to take a tumble tonight,” Eddie whispers gently into his ear, his thumb drawing soothing circles where it rests on his back.
As the trio make their way out of the room, finally, Ravi comes crashing back in, his hat and whip noticeably missing and his shirt fully open on his chest, obviously somewhat pulled from his body by wandering hands. He holds another tray of tequila shots. Somehow, the youngest of them all is still the most steady on his feet. “You good, Buck? You don’t look so hot right now.”
“f*ck you, probie, I’m the hottest one here,” he thinks he says. He might be slurring it, to be honest, he cannot really tell how coherent he is with all the tequila inside his body.
“I would beg to differ,” Ravi counters, his eyes straying from Buck towards Eddie in an obvious once-over. “But you are certainly in the top three of the hottest people in the room right now.”
“Damn straight,” Buck whispers.
Beside him, he can hear Eddie snort ungracefully, as he picks one more shot from the tray in Ravi’s hands, immediately shooting it without even looking at his best friend. Eddie’s hand remains as a constant pressure on his back, thumb continuing its gentle ministrations.
“There is nothing straight about the people in this room right now,” Ravi says. He probably means it to be quiet enough to be under his breath, but Buck can still somehow make out the words. They make him laugh. Somehow, they might be the funniest words Buck has heard in a long time.
“Okay, buddy, I think it’s time to cut you off,” Eddie decides, voice low and gravelly, again right in his ear. “Let’s get you to bed. Ravi, you helping? Or do you want to stay a little longer?”
Buck misses the youngest firefighter’s response completely, as he is hoisted from the stool, his limbs feeling heavy, but still tragically attached to his body. He does, however, catch the stifled laughs of both Ravi and Eddie.
“Oh, did I say that out loud?” he wonders.
“Yeah, Buck, yeah, you did,” Ravi answers, the smile way too big on his face, joy radiating off of him in waves. Or maybe it is the light reflecting from the mirrorball disco lights all around. “Are you really that drunk already?”
“I’m not drunk at all!” Buck insists, his voice steadier than he would expect it to be. “In fact, I could probably still drive my car right now.”
“You know, that’s a really bad idea and we’re not even going to entertain the thought at all,” Eddie cuts in, his hand having slipped further up and pressing insistently between the blades of Buck’s shoulders. “We’re just going to go to bed, because there’s a very happy bride waiting in LA for us, wanting to finally shed that Buckley name!”
“Oh my God,” Buck mumbles as the realization finally sets in. It feels like the fog in his brain clears for that one thought, exactly enough to permit one grand moment of eureka. “Oh my God,” he repeats softly.
“What?” He thinks it’s Ravi’s voice, but he really cannot tell with his mind clouded by the train of thoughts currently running through his brain.
“I don’t want to be the last Buckley out there. I don’t want that name if Maddie doesn’t share it with me!” In some distant way, he knows he sounds like a petulant child, but he cannot find it in himself to care about it at all. He also thinks he might be pouting.
As he stops dead in his tracks, just outside of the karaoke bar, the air hitting him and clearing his head further, he forcefully pulls Eddie and Ravi to a stop with him. Suddenly, there is a lot of clarity that he doesn’t want and for just a second he thinks he would have loved to take those shots with them when they left the bar.
“Buck?” That’s his best friend’s careful voice. The hand between his shoulders presses down harder, anchoring him, but in one swift move, Eddie shuffles in front of him, cupping his cheek softly. “Talk to me, what’s going on?”
“I just… I don’t know, I don’t want that name to tie me to my parents for the rest of eternity. Not if it means I don’t get to keep Maddie tied to me in the same way.”
“Then get your name changed to something else,” Ravi suggests gently, still holding onto Buck’s arm gently. “You could change your name to Han as well, if you want that connection to Maddie, still.”
He scrunches up his nose at the idea of it. Sure, he could just go and change his name, but then it would mean absolutely nothing. He wants it to mean something.
“Buck,” Eddie whispers, still cupping his cheek, locking their eyes together, not letting Buck avert his gaze. “How drunk are you?”
“Not really. I’m feeling way more sober.”
“Marry me,” Eddie breathes into the inches of space between their faces, no hesitation, as if the thought has been running around his mind for days, months, years even. “Take my last name. Or let’s hyphenate. We could both be Buckley-Diaz. We can ask Chris what he wants as well. But…,” he seems to be looking for the right words, “...what I mean to say is, let’s show everybody that we are family. You belong with Chris and me, and I- I love you. I would do anything for you. So if you are having a crisis about your sister changing her name, then by God, let’s all do it.”
“That is literally the worst proposal I’ve ever seen,” Buck laughs. “You aren’t even on your knee.”
“Holy sh*t,” he hears Ravi mutter from beside him, somewhat breaking the tension, but neither Buck nor Eddie seem to pay him any mind at all.
“Evan Buckley, I mean it. I’ll say it every single day for the rest of our lives. I love you. I am in love with you. We are literally in Las Vegas, there’s probably a chapel right around this corner. I mean it. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, loving you, raising my son with you. And if there is even the smallest chance that you might want that too, then say yes right now. Let me marry you.”
"Holy sh*t,” Ravi repeats, his voice having gone up at least two octaves.
“Holy sh*t,” Buck breathes, in an almost perfect imitation of the youngest firefighter. “Eddie- yes, f*ck yes. Let’s go do it. Let’s get married. Let me be part of your family officially.”
It all falls into place in his mind, the way he seems so much closer to Eddie than everyone else at the 118. How he fits perfectly into the Diaz boys’ routine and dynamic. The way Maddie used to tease him about the many times he used to talk about Eddie when they first met. The way he feels about Christopher, as if he was his own son at times. All the heavy eye contact, the subtle (and not-so-subtle) touches.
And finally, the envy from just a couple weeks ago, when he had found out about Eddie and Tommy’s friendship. The jealous streak that made him go out of his mind. It finally makes sense. It was never about Tommy.
“Holy sh*t, I am in love with you, too.”
A bright grin breaks out on Eddie’s face, and it lights him up in a way Buck has only seen a handful of times. It makes his best friend look ten years younger at least and for a single moment, his heart skips a beat, his entire body shutting down, the breath catches in his lungs and he feels his cheeks flush heavily.
“I’m going to kiss you now, cariño, okay?”
Before he can so much as nod, soft lips find his own, pressing gently but insistently against his mouth. There are no fireworks, nothing as grand as that, but it is gentle and reassuring, soft in the same way that coming home is soft. And that is what hits Buck right in his gut. Eddie - and Christopher - have been home to him for so long, it is surprising how long it took Buck to notice it. But now, with their lips finally connected, it really sinks in.
The thought is distracting enough that when Eddie swipes the tip of his tongue against Buck’s lower lip, he lets his mouth drop open around a wanton moan, granting his best friend - the love of his life - full access.
“Um… guys?” The moment breaks all at once, with Ravi’s voice ringing out right beside them. “Not to be that guy, but we should get going. At least wait until you’re back in your hotel room before you make out like teenagers. That’s public indecency.”
Still, even though Buck takes in everything the youngest firefighter is saying, he cannot bring himself to pull back from Eddie - and apparently neither does his best friend. Instead of releasing him, like Buck would have guessed would happen, Eddie moves his hand from his shoulder blade and grabs at the short hairs at the back of his neck, pulling him more forcefully against his own body.
Reluctantly, Buck pulls back, once he finally runs out of breath. Gasping heavily, he doesn’t dare move too far away, barely leaving an inch between them. He rests his forehead against Eddie’s gently, taking in the awestruck look on his best friend’s face. He probably doesn’t look all too different.
“Let’s get married, baby. I want the whole world to know that I am yours.”
“Buck, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Eddie groans.
Without moving a muscle, Buck addresses Ravi, who is still holding onto his arm, probably holding him up. If Buck was not leaning into Eddie right now, he is sure his knees would have given out on him minutes ago - at least when the kiss started. “Probie, we’re gonna need a witness. You coming with us, or not?”
“I’m not actually a probie anymore,” Ravi says, his voice completely void of any emotion besides surprise. “But yeah, you need a witness. And I’m probably the least drunk out of all of us, and I feel like I should discourage you from this, but honestly? That kiss was the hottest thing I’ve seen all day, and I would do anything to watch you do this on the daily, so let’s go. I saw a chapel on the way from the hotel. We can probably get you some rings on the way there as well.”
When he finally wakes up, curled up on the Diaz couch as he is, staring at the familiar ceiling once again, he remembers.
“Holy sh*t,” he breathes out into the silence of the living room. “He’s in love with me.”
Suddenly, his five step plan seems way easier to execute than he previously thought. His goal of staying married seems attainable in the early morning sunlight of the Diaz household.
But looking at the clock, and finding that it is already 7.30am, he realizes that he needs to focus on getting Christopher to school and himself off to work, both of which should be way higher up on his list of priorities.
--
“Buck!”
When he finally makes it into work, he is immediately greeted by Bobby insistently waving at him from the loft upstairs. He hasn’t seen Bobby this agitated since the aftermath of the plane crash, when he was still in his probationary year, so he hustles up the stairs before he can even think twice about it, his heavy bag still slung over his shoulder, still dressed in his civvies.
“Thank the Lord you’re here,” is the first thing out of his captain’s mouth when he finally ascends the stairs. “Listen, Summers from B-Shift called out a couple minutes ago. Do you think you could handle pulling a double today? Or cover half of her shift? I know you only had a 12 hour scheduled today, and I’m sorry to keep you here longer, but she seems to be really sick and out of it and I don’t know who else to ask.”
“Yeah, Bobby, it’s no problem. How long do you need me for? Is Summers also scheduled for 12?”
For just a second, Bobby checks his phone as a strangely loud notification pops up. “Great. And no, she was scheduled for 24, but Eddie said he can come in tomorrow and cover half of her shift, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep you until tomorrow morning?”
“Really, it’s nothing, Cap, you know I always like to help out around here.”
He watches as Bobby’s shoulders slump, the tension dropping from him like the string holding him up was cut. His fingers fly over the keyboard on his phone, probably sending the details of the shift change to Eddie as well. And before anything else can be said, his captain turns on his heels, ready to get back to work.
“Wait, Bobby, could I talk to you for a minute?”
For a moment, he thinks it is the wrong time to ask, but then Bobby locks his phone, sliding it into his pocket, and raises his gaze for the first time in their entire conversation, taking a long, hard look at Buck’s face. “Is this about the ring on your finger and the fact that Eddie punched Tommy at your sister’s wedding? Because I don’t really think we need to talk about that just yet,” Bobby smiles. “There’s some paperwork for this sort of thing, but honestly, we can wait until next week with that, when you and Eddie are on the same shift again.”
The wind is knocked out of him, leaving him gasping in a shallow breath as he listens to his father figure talk about his marriage so nonchalantly. Around the stone lodged in his throat, he manages to produce one single sentence: “Okay, yeah, that sounds good.”
“And I do want to remind you: keep it professional at work. But also, Buck, if he hurts you in any way, I am not above firing him on the spot without explanation. He hurts you, he hurts my family and I will not let that go. Neither will Athena. I doubt you want to be around when we give him the shovel talk, but I just wanted to say: I am proud of you. And I am happy for you. And if there is anything you want or need from me, I’ll happily provide it.”
Buck barely has the emotional capabilities to take all of that in. He doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry at his quasi father’s words. Instead, he goes with his instincts. Wrapping his arms securely around Bobby’s shoulders, he pulls the older man in for a long hug, hiding his face somewhere between his captain’s neck and shoulder. He wills the tears back into his eyes and hopes he doesn’t leave any wet patches on Bobby’s uniform.
“Thank you, Cap.”
--
The first half of his shift is almost too calm. For a single blink of time, Buck debates whether he could get away with hiding the word “quiet” anywhere in his next few sentences without invoking the wrath of the entire team at the 118. But then, from the corner of his eye, he finds Hen already glaring daggers at him, as if she can read his mind.
Overall, the shift remains entirely too uneventful, no distraction at all to quiet his mind and keep it from returning to what he remembers from that fateful night, now.
He keeps thinking about the way Eddie had looked at him, about the way his best friend’s hand had clung to his shoulder, keeping pressure over his pulse point and holding on as if Eddie could tell just from that feeling alone what he was doing to Buck all this time.
And he keeps remembering the feeling of Eddie’s lips on his own, the soft pressure and the sweet slide of tongues, the quiet click of teeth before righting the angle and trying again. The disbelieving chuckle leaving his mouth after that first kiss, when the decision seemed made to go and get married.
The soft look in his best friend’s eyes when they picked out rings, Ravi carrying the jewelry for them as they finally made their way to the chapel. Holding hands in front of an officiant and promising - vowing - to spend the rest of their lives loving each other. The feeling of smooth metal gliding onto his finger, neither of their hands shaking. The tears Ravi tried to hide, while Buck was openly weeping.
And then the hotel room - their frantic stumble to get their clothes off as soon as possible. Roaming hands and wandering mouths, and a giant yawn that made his jaw crack, the first rays of the dawning sunrise filtering through their curtains. Eddie’s voice soft, telling him to go to sleep.
But then waking up, with no memories of any of it. Only the physical reminders, the rings and the certificate, and the naked body pressed to his. And the guilt rolling through his body, ever since he woke up that morning, with Eddie cuddled up to him, and kissing his shoulder blade like nothing was wrong, even though everything had changed.
By the time B-Shift comes in to take over, he has had enough time to clean the fire engine and the ambulance, hoover the locker room, and finally clear his mind. It’s also been 12 long hours of doing nothing and thinking about the best way to go about his plan.
“Hi, Buck,” he hears coming from the freshly cleaned locker room, and turning around he finds Ravi coming his way, his hand raised in a greeting. “How was your shift?”
Before he can even think about it, rationalize the thoughts in his brain, he goes and opens his mouth: “You know, quiet. Really uneventful and I have been so bored, I cannot take it anymore.”
He hears the gasps before he sees any of the other firefighters on shift, some even throw in groans, actually sounding upset about the thought of a nightful of hectic calls and always being on the road.
“Oh my God, Buck, you didn’t just do that,” Ravi mumbles, his eyes wide and his hand still held high, apparently frozen in shock. “You jinxed us?”
The alarm rings shrilly, cutting off any words that Buck might have used as an excuse.
From there on, the jinx takes hold, B-Shift being called out with barely a second to breathe in between incidents. They are called to several smaller fires, grease fires in kitchens and out of control campfires taking over nearby shrubbery. But there are also several daring rescues of kids stuck in bathrooms, teenagers sneaking out and falling from their first-floor windows. Most notably, though, is the pile-up they tend to that comes in about an hour before Buck’s shift officially ends.
He can hear Bobby yell out orders as he descends from the engine, taking in the five cars blocking the entire road, bumpers dented, doors completely crumbled in some cases. It looks gruesome, all the metal pieces covering the street. He is so focused on it, he almost misses when their captain calls his name: “Buckley, Panikkar, grab the Jaws of Life and get to triaging!”
Being paired up with Ravi, even though it is preferable to anyone else from B-Shift that Buck has rarely worked with, is still unfamiliar. They work well together, but there is something undoubtedly missing from his usual dynamic with Eddie - something unspoken that just cannot be replicated.
“So, how’s married life treating you?” Ravi finally breaks the silence, as the Jaws of Life cut open the first door, a terrified looking little girl sitting in her booster seat, with her mom unconscious in the front seat. The paramedics are already taking care of her mom, but something within Buck feels the need to comfort the child.
So he barely speaks, only focuses on getting the door open as quickly as possible. Only when the kid is finally free, being checked over at the back of their ambulance, he turns to Ravi. “You know you could have said something, right?”
He watches as his friend’s face pulls into a grimace. “Didn’t want to invoke your wrath if I was to accidentally spill any secrets before you were ready for it,” the younger man finally mumbles. “I know Chimney was asleep, but he still could have heard. And we all know how he is with secrets. And Eddie was comforting you, so I didn’t think I had to say anything at all.”
“I didn’t remember,” Buck confesses. “I woke up and I was so confused. Why I was in bed with Eddie. I didn’t remember that we got married.”
“Oh,” Ravi breathes, already stepping towards the next vehicle, peering in and assessing how to best access the thankfully uninjured passengers. “I thought you knew. I mean, Eddie wasn’t being subtle about any of it.”
“Oh my God,” crosses his lips without consent as it finally dawns on Buck. “Eddie knew the entire time, didn’t he?”
“He didn’t drink that much all night, I kept an eye on him. Honestly, I didn’t think you were too drunk to remember anything, either. You seemed perfectly sober to me when Eddie proposed to you.” The younger man pulls another weird face, but Buck cannot tell whether it is based on their conversation or from the strain he has to exhibit to wrench the doors of the car open. “I thought you had talked about it, that’s why I didn’t say anything to you yet. I thought you wanted to keep it a secret, or at least leave it unspoken. You are wearing the rings after all.”
It strikes him then that there was never a single thing keeping him from Eddie. That his best friend never showed even the slightest indication that he wanted to get divorced, or annul their marriage. Buck was the one to call it a mistake, to want to undo it, to push Eddie to contact his lawyer.
“Ravi,” he whines, teenage petulance making an unexpected return. “I love him so much. And I didn’t remember anything from that night until I woke up today. What if I ruined all of this?”
An ungraceful snort leaves the younger man, he shakes his head in obvious disbelief. “Buckley, and I say this with the utmost disrespect - you are the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. Like Jesus - and I cannot stress this enough - f*cking Christ. Diaz is so in love with you, he proposed the night before your sister got married because you were upset about not sharing a name with her anymore. He calls you cariño, for f*ck’s sake. Even though you didn’t remember anything about your wedding, he is still wearing his wedding ring. He keeps flirting with you - and you flirt back. Like, all the time.”
Ravi sends him an exasperated look, face pulling into a frown. “I am begging you to get your head out of your ass and go confess to your husband again.”
It leaves him speechless, and he feels his eyes growing wider with every passing second that Ravi just stares at him with his big, judging eyes. “This might be the exhaustion talking, probie, because I haven’t slept even a wink in the last 24 hours, but that was the gentlest, yet most convincing, ass-kicking I’ve ever gotten.”
“Not a probie anymore, Buckley.”
“Not a Buckley anymore, Panikkar.”
It pulls a laugh out of both of them, at least until the end of the call, the smiles don’t leave their faces.
When they finally make it back to the station, it’s about an hour after Buck’s shift should have ended. Bobby sends him a single long look, motioning him towards the locker room and without a single word, sending him home. But before he can move too far from the fire engine, another voice calls out to him. Ravi, walking past, pats him on the shoulder once in support, sending him a small smile before the younger man leaves him to it.
“Buck!”
With a grin, said man turns to the source of the voice - Eddie coming down the stairs from the loft, obviously having started the second half of their shared shift. Summers really does owe them at this point. Maybe they can trade shifts another day, make it fun for Christopher and go to the aquarium or the zoo, or maybe the planetarium.
Buck doesn’t know where the thought came from, but it is there, nonetheless. And he finally stops questioning it. Eddie and him, and Christopher, they are a family. He can finally think that way about them, because there is no way that he is losing it, not now and not ever in his future. Eddie made sure of that when he proposed in front of a karaoke club in Las Vegas.
That might be the exhaustion talking, but Buck still feels too wired from the last call, his eyes stinging, but not in danger of dropping closed any time soon. His limbs feel sluggish and his brain is still catching up with the visual of Eddie jogging to stand before him.
“Morning, sunshine, you good to get home on your own?” His best friend looks at him strangely, concern tinting his big brown eyes. “I heard from Ortiz that you had one hell of a shift tonight. Didn’t get any sleep?”
“Might have used the q-word when the shift started,” Buck confesses, the aches of a long and stressful night finally catching up to him. “Wasn’t my best idea ever,” he laughs.
“If we’re still jinxed because of you, I’m making you sleep on the couch again tonight,” Eddie threatens, but his voice is fully joking. “No really, cariño, are you okay to get yourself home?”
“Yeah, I think so, but I will be crashing for a couple hours once I’m there.”
His best friend stares at him for another second, taking his sweet time to make his own assessment, seemingly. Buck watches as Eddie’s eyes drag over his form in a full once-over, and then as his shoulder slump, a sigh escaping the older man. With a nod, his best friend finally says: “Okay, text me when you’re home, though. And can you pick up Chris later?”
“Yeah, will do, babe,” Buck answers, leaning into the warmth of his best friend’s body, and slowly, without any thought in his mind, he finds his lips pressed to Eddie’s in a gentle kiss. It is sweet and short and for a second, he finds his tongue swiping over the older man’s lower lip, tasting coffee and chocolate, and he thinks it is one of the best kisses he’s ever had.
Slowly, he pulls back, his lips already pulling into a soft smile. His brain is still lagging behind a few minutes in their conversation, so it only just registers that Eddie asked him to pick up Christopher. That “home” probably referred to the Diaz house, not his loft.
Instead of spiraling like he thought he would, he just feels calm, especially when he catches a glimpse of Eddie’s soft gaze and sweet smile. “You’re really tired, huh, honey?”
“So tired,” Buck admits.
The older man just laughs softly, the sound echoing around the space and bouncing back from the walls, and the metal of the engine and ambulance around them. “Get home, text me once you’ve made it so I can stop worrying about you.”
“Will do,” he answers, already turning to get his bag from the locker room. The alarm is shrill and loud, and it echoes around his head, as he moves away, sending one last grin at Eddie as the older man rushes past to get his turnouts on.
From around the corner of the fire engine, he catches Ravi’s eyes trained intensely on the two of them. The younger man just sends him a single thumbs-up as he swings up into the cabin of the engine, taking his seat.
--
It doesn’t actually register in his brain what he has done until after he has had a successful nap on the Diaz couch and is already in the school parking lot, Christopher in his passenger seat.
“f*ck,” he swears loudly, “I kissed your dad.”
“Ewww,” Christopher answers without pause, his nose scrunching up in what seems to be disgust, but not even a second later, a wide grin spreads over his face. “That’s gross, Buck. I don’t want to have to think about you kissing dad.”
“That’s not- I’m sorry? Did you just say I was being gross?”
“You are!” Christopher laughs brightly. “You are my second dad. I don’t want to think about my parents kissing and doing other stuff. Even if I am happy for you two,” he amends softly.
“You’ve grown up way too quickly, you know that, pal?” Buck chances a glance towards the teenager in his passenger seat and finds a weird disconnect in his brain. Somehow he sees the 7-year-old he met after the devastating earthquake years ago, and now that same kid is almost 13, and somehow both versions of that kid are currently sitting next to him.
“Were you about to freak out about kissing dad, just now?”
“Way too grown up,” Buck mumbles under his breath. “Yeah, Chris, I think so. I haven’t really talked to your dad yet, about us. I just kissed him this morning before I left the station. I think I might be freaking out about it.”
“So?” The kid sounds so nonchalant about everything, just like he is for everything that recently seems to freak out Buck. God, he loves that kid so much.
“I love him, and that can be scary,” he starts, while simultaneously trying to navigate early afternoon LA traffic. “And I don’t know how much you know, but I kind of forgot some things after your dad and I got married. So I have been feeling off for a while. But I remembered a couple nights ago. And I want to tell him that I know and that I want to be with him, so I feel like I jumped the gun a bit, so to speak.”
“Buck,” Christopher sounds so done with the conversation that Buck has to suppress his laughter. Teenage petulance, and all that. He feels like he might have heard that one before. “Did dad kiss you back?”
“He did, yes.”
“Then it is easy, isn’t it?” Coming to a standstill in the traffic, Buck gathers the courage to look at Christopher, finding the teenager already staring back at him. “You love him and he loves you. All you need to do is tell him again and you’re going to be just fine. That’s all there is to it.”
“You are so much smarter than any adult I know.”
“That’s because none of you know what you are talking about. You are always caught up in something else.”
“Maybe I’m just an idiot.”
“I really don’t want to roast you, Buck,” Christopher laughs again, “because you are technically somewhat my dad and I think you can ground me. So I’m not gonna agree right now. I will tell dad that you said it, though.”
Coming up on the next exit, Buck’s brain comes up with an idea. Staring at the clock on his car dashboard, he does some mental calculations. “Hey, Chris, how about some tamales for dinner? We can drop by Tìa Pepa’s to sweet-talk her into giving us Abuela’s recipe, right?”
Immediately, Christopher’s face lights up, his smile spreading into a bright grin, showing all his teeth and almost blinding Buck when he catches a look from the corner of his eye.
Letting the laugh bubble from his throat, Buck turns on his signal and merges into the exit lane, foot on the gas to Pepa’s house.
--
“Okay, what have you done?” Eddie asks as soon as he steps into the kitchen, face drawn in a carefully concerned expression.
“Dad!” Christopher cheers, from his place perched on the kitchen counter, watching as Buck checks if the tamales are ready yet. The smell is delicious, permeating the entire house by now, after hours of carefully preparing the food. “Buck is making tamales! Abuela’s recipe!”
“Yeah, I can smell that,” the older man replies carefully. “The question is why. What have you two done now that you need to soften me up with Abuela’s tamales?”
“I’m offended that you think I did anything,” Buck adds, turning around from the stove and finally taking in the older Diaz’ appearance. He looks calm, collected, not as tired as Buck had felt that morning. “How was your shift?”
Eddie shrugs halfheartedly. “Nothing too bad. We weren’t jinxed anymore, no thanks to you.” With a laugh, he finally steps fully into the room, peering at the mess on the counter and the table dubiously. “Don’t distract me, Buck, what are you doing?”
“Can’t I want to do something sweet for my husband, every once in a while?”
“Buck,” the older man says sternly, fully activating his dad-voice. And maybe he would be lying if he said it didn’t send a shiver down his spine, watching Eddie square his shoulders and cross his arms over his chest.
“Well, maybe I wanted to woo you,” Buck says, to the sound of Christopher groaning dramatically in the background. “And maybe, just maybe, I am indeed softening you up for a conversation later?”
His voice comes out uneven, anxiety swimming in his gut. In theory, he knows that Christopher is right. That Eddie does love him - he knows it because he remembers it from the night of the bachelor party. But there is still an uneasy feeling floating around ominously, like he might have messed everything up anyway. It feels like Tommy’s words from the wedding have burrowed under his skin, destabilizing everything he thought he knew and making him question every fact he has ever learned.
“Well, that depends on how your tamales turn out, cariño,” Eddie teases. “I honestly can’t find any reason as to why to talk to anyone who can’t make tamales as good as Abuela’s.”
“Shut up,” Buck laughs. The weight on his chest becomes less and less with each second, his breaths coming easier with every glance his best friend sends to him.
There is a teasing smirk on the older man’s face as he approaches further, taking a peek into the pot on the stove. “Well, it looks like tamales, at least.”
“Dad, go take a shower, you stink,” Christopher adds, wrinkling his nose at Eddie. Buck has to work hard to stop the snort threatening to break out. At least the kid is not above roasting the other half of his parents as well. “The food’s almost ready and I’m hungry.”
With a laugh, a gentle hand to his lower back, and a ruffle through Christopher’s hair, Eddie leaves the kitchen again, and not even a few minutes later, Buck can hear the shower starting down the hall in the bathroom.
Dinner afterwards is a quiet affair - well, quieter than it usually is. Christopher still happily chatters on about his day at school, and about their visit to Pepa’s, his plans for his science project and the movie he wants to watch later. The kid talks so much that Buck thinks his own silence might not be as noticeable throughout all of it. Especially since Eddie seems entirely focused on Christopher for now.
As it turns out, tamales are harder to make than Buck originally thought, but they still taste good - not as great as Abuela’s, but it is a good starting point. Towards the end of dinner, when Buck is pushing the last few bites around his plate instead of actually eating them, Christopher stops talking. The kid’s eyes jump between Buck and Eddie for a few seconds, before he pushes away from the table, his chair squeaking awfully loudly in the silence descending over the kitchen.
“Well, I have a lot of homework, still, and I wanted to play some video games later. So, you know, I’ll just be in my room with my headphones on and some music playing or something,” Christopher explains, overly long on a level of awkwardness that only teenagers can reach. “Yeah, I doubt I’ll hear you and I’m actually super tired. I’ll just head to bed on my own after my homework.”
With one last heavy look thrown at Buck, Christopher practically sprints from the room, his crutches clicking loudly, but fading notably when the kid finally reaches his room. The door falls shut heavily, then there is a complete silence that engulfs everything.
Another awkward moment passes between them, before Eddie breaks out laughing loudly, his eyes squeezed shut and crinkling around the corners. For a second, Buck’s brain can’t comprehend it, just watches his best friend’s joy erupting like a volcano out of him. “What’s so funny?”
The older man doesn’t answer immediately. But as Buck watches, his best friend’s face flushes a dark shade of pink, and there are tears rising in his eyes. In one single move, Eddie covers his face with his hands, before wiping away the moisture at the corner of his eyes. “I can’t believe this.”
“What?”
“I can’t believe that Christopher watched us dance around each other for an entire week, and just sat by while you were trying to make tamales. Just to then get out of here with the most obvious, unsubtle hint for us to go have sex that I have ever heard in my life.”
“Well, when you say it like that,” Buck whispers. It is absolutely ridiculous, the longer he thinks about it. So much for his subtle plan of confessing to Eddie via a heartfelt meal and a slow conversation afterwards. A chuckle bubbles out of his throat, evolving into a full on giggle, as he imagines Christopher sitting in his room, music blasting through headphones and desperately ignoring that his dad and his dad’s best friend are currently in the kitchen, alone together.
All the laughter sets off Eddie again and they just fully break down laughing for a good handful of minutes. When they finally calm down again, the silence between them is comfortable, no longer stifling or awkward. Eddie is looking at him with his big, soft brown eyes, their color like molten chocolate in their warmth.
“Buck,” his best friend starts softly, “what are you really doing?”
He sucks in a deep breath, trapping the air in his lungs, waiting for his heart to start beating faster, for his chest to feel tighter, for the anxiety to rush through his veins like his blood. None of it actually happens. The same serenity present in the room stays, filling his body with each breath and spreading like molasses through him.
Finally, he finds the words to speak. The words embedded in his soul whenever he thinks of Eddie lately. He thinks it is time to share them with the world.
“I am trying to wine and dine you, Eddie,” he confesses. “Because… when we woke up in the hotel room, I completely freaked out. I didn’t remember anything, as you know, and it felt like us getting married came out of nowhere.”
“Well, it did come out of nowhere, if you don’t remember that night,” Eddie laughs.
“Yeah,” Buck breathes out, sending a small smile to his best friend - his husband. “And then you were trying to keep me together when I was falling apart on you, and you knew the entire time and I didn’t.” Slowly, he moves his hand to grab onto Eddie’s, intertwining their fingers and holding on tightly, as his eyes meet his best friend’s once again. “But I remember now. I remember what you said and I- God, Eddie, I love you. I love you so much and I don’t want to undo any of this.”
“Buck, what- ?”
“Let me talk, please. What I want to say is: I want to stay married to you. I want you and me for all eternity. I want to wake up next to you and I want to make you breakfast and lunch and dinner, and I want to have your back every single day of my life. Let me make you happy, Eds. Let me be your husband for real, with everything that comes with it. The late nights, raising our kid, every single shift with our friends making fun of us and teasing us relentlessly, because us - getting together - took way longer than it should have.”
“Buck.”
“Eddie,” he mimics, a laugh already bubbling up and out of his mouth. “Just say yes, baby.”
A gentle squeeze is delivered to his hand, their fingers still intertwined and holding together, their wedding bands glinting in the low sunlight filtering through the window. “If you would let me get a word in, Buckley, I would have said yes minutes ago,” Eddie teases. “Dios, Buck, I’ve been here this entire time, I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
“Yeah?” he asks. A slight flame of hope burns bright in his chest, making his heart beat faster and his cheeks flush. The blood is roaring in his veins.
“Yeah, baby, I love you so much, too,” Eddie whispers. “And just so you know, I will kiss you now.”
Leaning in over the kitchen table, he actually does. The kiss is slow and gentle, the angle slightly off because the table is in the way, no matter how they lean around it. But Eddie’s hand finds its way to his cheek and then into his hair, pulling on his curls slightly to maneuver his head this and that way until the angle is finally right and Eddie’s tongue can slip into mouth. Quickly, the kiss turns heated, with Buck releasing a filthy moan into the silence of the kitchen, as the feeling of Eddie’s lips on his turns overwhelming.
With a wet sound, Eddie pulls away, their mouths finally parting, even as he pushes their foreheads together. At the move, there is an involuntary whine that falls from Buck’s still open lips.
A low chuckle follows from his best friend, just before Eddie’s voice, rough and low after the kiss, rings out: “Wanna take advantage of our kid giving us permission?”
“Don’t mention Chris when you want us to get hot and heavy, that just kills the mood.”
“Don’t say hot and heavy. That is what actually kills the mood,” his best friend laughs, pressing a single sucking kiss onto the hinge of his jaw. “Let me take you to bed. Let me f*ck you like you deserve, baby. Just say yes.”
“f*ck, Eddie,” Buck breathes, his heart beating a hundred miles a minute, all the blood rushing from his head all the way south. “Yes.”
“f*ck, baby,” Eddie breathes, already getting up out of the chair and grabbing onto his hand, pulling him up as well. In a haste, they make their way down the hall, his husband only slowing when they pass by Christopher’s room. For a second, Eddie halts fully, listening for even the slightest sound from their son’s room, but the only thing Buck can pick out is the clicking of the computer keyboard and mouse as Christopher plays his video games.
“Coast is clear,” Buck whispers. A quick kiss is pressed to his lips as Eddie pulls him away and all but shoves him into his bedroom. Before he can even catch up to their change of scenery, the lock clicks behind him and his best friend is right there in front of him, pushing him against the door heavily.
Their faces inches apart, Eddie takes a heavy breath, releasing it in a long puff of air that fully hits Buck’s cheek. It makes his heart skip and his breath hitch with an audible gasp. Eddie smiles smugly, their eyes locking. Slowly, his best friend closes the gap between them, dragging their lips together in a hot press, a tease of what is to come.
Buck’s mouth drops open around another moan, the feeling of his husband pressing into his body obscene, all the blood rushing from his brain to his co*ck.
In the same moment, Eddie’s lips slide from the corner of his mouth towards the hinge of his jaw and pressing into the side of his neck. A second later, a sharp tooth slides over his skin, nipping slightly.
“Eddie,” he moans, but it sounds more like a whine being ripped from his throat.
“Yeah, baby?” he hears from somewhere closer to the crook of his neck, another hot slide of lips and tongue and teeth and the sharp sting of a feral bite to the tendon in his neck. “What’s up?”
“Stop teasing and f*ck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow,” he demands, or pleads, he genuinely cannot tell anymore. Reluctantly, he adds: “Please.”
“Ooooh, good boy,” Eddie teases, “you know how to beg for what you want. I’ll remember that.” An almost gentle roll of his best friend’s hips rips another moan from him, as he can feel the bulge in Eddie’s pants rub against his thigh roughly. “But you’re doing so well, I think you deserve a reward.”
His brain fully fizzles out, short-circuiting at the way his husband’s voice drops lower around the praise, the rasp of stubble dragging over his neck and he can feel his skin rising in goosebumps. He feels like he is floating, his head dropping heavily back against the heavy wooden door behind him, rattling the lock with a loud noise.
“Sssshhh,” Eddie shushes him, pressing another quick kiss against his lips. “You ready?”
It takes everything in him to process what his best friend is asking. His mind is fried and there are several attempts at making his throat work to form a single sound. Eddie is watching him with a soft look in his eyes, his best friend’s mouth forming into a small smile. Finally, he finds the words at the back of his throat, forcing them out of his mouth, even though the feeling of his best friend’s abs pressing into his own body, even through both of their shirts, is incredibly distracting and keeps him from forming a single coherent thought.
“Eds, please,” he whispers, “I’m so ready. Whatever you want to do.”
That is all it takes, apparently, because the second the words are out of his mouth, Eddie leans away. Cold air streams into the space between them as soon as his best friend’s body disappears, leaving him cold and reeling. A whine works itself out of his mouth, ripped from him without his consent.
It turns into a high, reedy noise as he watches, his eyes half-lidded, as Eddie’s fingers find the edges of his henley, pulling it over his head eagerly prior to dropping to his knees. For a single moment, Buck cannot believe his eyes, but no, that is his husband, on his knees, eyes sparkling with mischief and joy.
Eddie’s mouth drops open in a smirk, his tongue running teasingly over his canine teeth, before he leans in, mouthing at the bulge in his jeans.
“sh*t,” Buck curses under his breath, just watching everything unfold before him. He thinks he blacks out for a full minute as Eddie pops the button on his jeans, pulling the zipper down, all while mouthing at his hard co*ck through the soft fabric of his boxer briefs. “Eddie, if you blow me now, this will not go further.”
He feels the hum from his best friend’s mouth more than he hears it. It vibrates straight through his dick and his mouth drops open, a groan wrenching from his throat into the silence around them.
“No, really, I appreciate it,” he moans, Eddie still mouthing around his co*ck, hands slowly inching to the waistband of his boxer briefs, ready to pull them off at a moment’s notice, “but as soon as your mouth touches my co*ck, I will absolutely cum. Like the second you do it.”
That gets his best friend to pull away, a laugh already wrecking the man before him. “Sorry,” he forces out in between chuckles, “let me just ask this real quick - no blowj*b for you, honey?”
The laughter is infectious, Buck can feel small giggles bursting out of his chest and into the room. “God, I wish I could say yes, I really want to, but then this would be over real quick.” Giving into an urge coming up from the bottom of his stomach, he runs his hands through Eddie’s hair, carding his fingers through the soft curls. “Come back up here, and then f*ck me into your matress, please.”
“Dios, I love you so much, Buck,” his best friend laughs, already getting off his knees, pressing another kiss to his lips. Then, with Buck’s eyes following each and every detail of Eddie, he watches as his husband shakes off the laughter, his expression turning serious, a glint of fire in his eyes flaring up. “Strip,” he commands simply. “Get on the bed.”
“Holy sh*t,” Buck breathes, and then, a smirk taking over his face, he tacks onto the end: “Yes, sir!”
“Oh f*ck off, you brat,” Eddie laughs again, giving him a soft and playful shove towards the bed.
When Buck turns around to add something else, the words die in his throat, coming out as a garbled mess of sound at the sight before him. He finds his husband, stripping off his jeans, the muscles in his arms working and flexing obscenely. In one swoop, with him frozen in place as he just takes all of it in, Eddie pulls both his pants and underwear down, letting them drop to the floor ungracefully.
“Oh,” escapes him before he can stop the sound. He can feel his dick twitch in his boxers at the view before him. “Eddie, we need to get Chris out of the house way more often than before.”
“Huh?” Seemingly, Eddie had not realized that he was staring.
“Oh,” he says again, his gaze stuck on his husband’s hard co*ck standing proudly, the crown of it a deep red in color, a drop of precum already sparkling and making him want to drop to his knees instead. “I’m married to that,” he realizes with a start. Then, shaking himself out of it, he addresses his best friend once more: “I need you in me as often as possible, I don’t think I can go 24 hours without touching you ever again.”
“Well, get naked and maybe we can get a headstart,” Eddie laughs again, pushing him once towards the bed again.
With his hands pushing his jeans down, finally freeing himself, the cold air hitting him and making him break out in goosebumps, already anticipating the warmth of his best friend’s body pressed against him again, he watches as Eddie walks over to the bedside table. The first drawer is pulled open and deftly, his husband pulls a half-full bottle of lube and a strip of condoms from it, dropping them onto the bed.
Something breaks in his brain, another fuse burning out, another screw coming loose at the visual. For a second, he is too distracted by the implication, before he forces himself to pull his shirt over his head, finally naked as well. In not even three steps, he covers the distance between him and Eddie, pressing a soft kiss to his best friend’s shoulder blade in a perfect imitation of the moment they woke up at the hotel.
“Mmhhh,” the older man hums, contentedly, and fully at peace. “I think I told you to get on the bed.”
“Wanted to touch you, baby,” Buck whispers, right into Eddie’s ear, pressing a single wet kiss right below the lobe. Before he can think about it too hard, his tongue pokes out experimentally, tasting the slightly salty skin before him. Eddie tastes of soap, freshly showered at the station, but there is something deeper beneath that Buck can only attribute to being a part of Eddie himself. “I missed you a lot.”
“Buck,” his best friend finally voices, gentle and quiet. “I really want to f*ck you now, I had to live without touching you for a week, even though we are married, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Raising his hands in a placating gesture, he steps away from the older man, gracelessly letting himself drop onto the bed, falling onto his back, never moving his gaze away from the hungry look in Eddie’s eyes. Then, something occurs to him. “Have you done this before?”
“Cariño, I have a kid,” the older man deadpans. “He is literally in the other room. Do you want to get dressed and see him?” Even though his husband is fully sassing him, Buck can hear the gentleness beneath the sentence, the offer to not take this too seriously, not to panic and to just have a good time.
“I meant, do you know how to prep me, you idiot,” Buck says, instead of reacting to the silent offer. “I love you and I trust you and I want to have sex. Now get on top of me.”
With a slight chuckle, Eddie finally lets himself lean over his body, pressing their lips together once more. Slowly, his best friend lowers himself until they are pressed together from chests to shins, their hard co*cks pressed together in the small space between their bodies. Then, Buck almost misses it, but the bottle of lube is pressed into his hand insistently.
“Get yourself ready for me, honey, I want to watch you.”
Without hesitation, Buck gets down to business, feeling Eddie’s heavy gaze on him as he spreads his legs as far as he can, his thighs falling open around his best friend’s waist. They have been waiting too long, in his professional opinion, meaning he does not want to wait any longer.
With clinical precision, he opens himself up, his eyes never straying from his husband’s face as the other man seems stuck on the point where Buck’s fingers disappear inside of him. He can feel his breathing speeding up, growing heavy with every move, passing over his prostate but refusing to chase the high of it before his best friend takes over.
“Eddie,” he pants out, “please.”
It seems to be enough, pulling Eddie out of his reverie, making his eyes snap up to Buck’s. When their gazes finally meet, the older man surges forward, half-collapsing on top of him, pushing a kiss below his jaw, trailing his lips down his throat, as his hands fumble for the condoms from beside them.
Quickly, Eddie rolls the condom on before spreading lube over it.
After that, everything becomes a haze of sensation for Buck, a swell of pleasure as Eddie slides into him, their bodies connecting in the most tender way. His brain fizzles out fully when his best friend finally starts moving, his co*ck pressing right into his prostate on every stroke, making the blood rush through his veins and roar in his ears.
Every moment makes his limbs tingle. He feels like he is floating, no part of his body feels real, except for the spaces where Eddie touches him, where his teeth sink into the side of Buck’s neck, sucking and leaving bruises in his wake, marking him up.
As he had predicted, he doesn’t last long. There is a tightness coiling in his lower abdomen, growing bigger and bigger with every one of his husband’s thrusts.
“Eddie,” he forces out, in between the sighs he tries to stifle as much as possible so that Christopher doesn’t accidentally hear them. “I’m about-”
“Let go, baby, I’ve got you,” he hears, breathed somewhere in the region of his collarbone, a wet kiss pressed into the place where the skin is thinnest.
It is all the permission he needs, and without a single touch to his co*ck, he comes fully undone, releasing between their bodies, painting both of their chests. He can feel himself squeezing down on Eddie’s hard dick inside him, and almost instantly, he feels teeth bury in the soft skin of his shoulder, a moan muffled into his flesh.
When he finally comes back to himself, a whine works itself out of his throat, as his best friend is still pounding into him, chasing his own release. His brain is still offline and he can feel every single nerve ending in his body alight from his release.
“Too much?” Eddie strains to ask, slowing his movements significantly.
He tries to shake his head, but none of his muscles seem to cooperate. The older man seems to take his silence as affirmation for his question, pulling out in a smooth move that leaves him feeling empty.
Without missing a beat, Eddie strips off the condom, his hand flying over his still-hard co*ck. Leaning over Buck, his brown eyes are hooded, but trained on the blissed-out expression on the younger man’s face.
“f*ck,” his husband moans out, breath punching out of him.
“Please,” Buck whispers, as much as he can manage, “cum for me, baby, mark me up with it. I’m yours, forever. Just yours.”
He finds himself mumbling sweet nothings for a couple more strokes before his husband’s voice breaks on a whine, cum spurting in thick, hot stripes over his chest, staining the sheets around him and leaving him gasping for breath.
Seemingly exhausted, his best friend collapses beside him on the bed, immediately pulling Buck closer, and curling around him, as they both come down from their highs.
“Cariño,” Eddie whispers, when they have finally caught their breath, Eddie’s cum still drying on his chest. “This is the least romantic way I could do this, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
Buck releases a questioning hum, his brain still catching up. He feels sated in a way he hasn’t since- ever, actually, his limbs heavy and aches in his muscles that he never quite uses during his workouts. Somewhere around his neck, he can feel the sting of several bruises left behind by Eddie’s canine teeth, and he has never felt this f*cked out.
“You with me, baby? Need some water or some chocolate after that?”
It takes an herculean effort to turn his head and lock their gazes together. Ocean blue meeting chocolate brown. But somehow, Buck manages, even if he feels slightly dizzy with it. “Nah, I’m good. Better than that, actually. I think you f*cked my brains out.”
His husband laughs loudly, throwing his head back into the pillows below him. “Dios, I love you so much. But no, listen. Baby, I love you, and I believe you deserve better than having a quickie wedding in Las Vegas. I know we are already married, we did this all in the wrong order, but let’s plan an actual second wedding. Do it all right.”
“If you think I’d say anything but yes, after you just did that to me? Baby, you got a big storm coming,” Buck laughs breathlessly. “So, yeah, let’s do it. Let’s get married again for real.”
--
Walking into work the next morning is both exhilarating and nausea-inducing. Eddie is right by his side the entire time, holding his hand tightly, and Buck can feel the cold metal of the wedding band press into his own hand.
In their shared work bag, there are several envelopes, heavy cardstock with fine calligraphy print. What a weird and wonderful thing it is to have print-on-demand stores on every second corner. However light they are, the invitations weigh him down greatly.
He knows, right there in the back of his head, that all of them already know. Hell, Ravi was with them when they got married. He had his entire realization with Chimney in the room. Eddie had sat him down last night, after everything, and told him about how he had freaked out weeks ago at this point, after Buck had come out, and run to Hen and Karen to ask for their help. How he had come to figure out that he was actually gay and in love with Buck.
So much to say, all of them are already well aware of what exactly happened between Eddie and him in Las Vegas. It wasn’t a very well-kept secret in the first place.
So he doesn’t actually understand why the idea of a second wedding ceremony, this time with all his friends and family present, freaks him out so much. Why the invites weigh him down like they do.
Before he can think about it any longer, Hen spots them from the loft. She greets them with a long yell, her eyes narrowing in on the poorly concealed bruises on his own neck. “The idiots have finally figured it out!”
“No way!” Buck hears coming from further back in the loft, and he assumes it might be Chimney. “Which one of them finally manned up and told the other?”
He hears Eddie’s low chuckle as the man starts up the stairs, ready to confront the relentless teasing of their friends. With a heavy sigh, Buck follows him, as he would into any situation, always having each others’ backs.
When he finally emerges from the stairs, Eddie is already being pulled into a tight hug by Hen, who is whispering something to his best friend that makes the older man blush heavily. A bright smile breaks out on his face, as Hen pulls back.
“There you are,” he hears from behind him, just as Bobby comes over. “I hear congratulations are in order. I’m very happy for both of you, Buck, and Eddie.”
It is only a moment before Buck is pulled into a tight hug by their captain, tears already forming in his eyes. He opens his mouth, to thank his father figure maybe, but instead another swell of words emerges: “We talked a lot last night,” he starts, “and we want to get married again, a real ceremony with everyone there. Will you help us plan it?”
He doesn’t miss the glossy look in Bobby’s eyes as the words register, even if he is already digging through his bag to get the invitations out and hand them to each of their friends. His captain puts a hand over his own, stopping his motion. “Buck, I would be honored to help you.”
There, sandwiched between his family, he finds his husband’s eye over Chimney’s shoulder and he knows that he is in the right place, at just the right time. It might have taken a couple years, but damn is he glad that he made it to this point.
