Archive of Our Own

Eddie doesn’t appreciate the way they’re all teasing him. Normally it’s Buck who’s the subject of their gentle bullying - Buck who just shrugs his shoulders and laughs shamelessly every time he’s the butt of a joke. And it’s all in good humour, of course - the kind of taunting you do with family, where you’re allowed to be mean to them but no one else is.

But this time it’s turned on Eddie, and he’s got to admit that Buck is a way better sport than he is. Because Eddie is spluttering out denials that just make everyone laugh the more insistent he becomes.

“I have game!” Eddie maintains.

Buck’s lips are pressed tight like he’s trying not to laugh, but Hen and Chim are long gone - cackling like they belong in some kind of horror movie. Whatever. Eddie knows he’s got game, and that’s all that matters. His dumb friends can think whatever they want.

“You haven’t hit on someone since you were in high school,” Chim scoffs. “There’s no way you could pull someone now.”

And like, rude? Eddie is a smooth talker when he wants to be, it’s just - he hasn’t wanted to be lately. It’s not like he’s looking for someone right now. Dating is the absolute last thing on his mind, so even if he was bad at flirting, which he’s not, it’s not like it would even matter.

“I could totally pull someone, don’t be mean,” Eddie whines.

“Yeah, look at that face,” Buck says, pointing at Eddie. “It’s not like he even has to open his mouth, he just has to smile at someone.”

Eddie’s stomach doesn’t - it doesn’t twist, okay? It’s just. He’s not all that used to getting compliments anymore, and it’s not like the people who flirt with him on calls count, so. Not that Buck counts either, obviously. Because Buck isn’t flirting, he’s just - being nice.

So Eddie ignores the way his stomach has started to feel a little strange, and points back at Buck. “See, at least someone has my back,” he says.

Buck snorts out a laugh. “Woah, let’s not go that far. I’m saying you’re pretty, Diaz, not that you’re smart.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open in betrayal as Chim and Hen howl with laughter. Buck looks proud of himself, grinning back as Eddie frowns at him. And it’s hard to be mad at a face like that, really, because Buck looks so sunshiney and happy, and it makes Eddie feel good to see Buck this way.

So, he’s not mad at him. He just has to prove him wrong.

He focuses in on Buck’s hand, the way it’s spread out across his thigh. Then he frowns, shifts a little closer like he’s trying to see something. Buck raises his eyebrows in question, then holds his hand up to look at it, before showing it to Eddie.

“What? What are you looking at?” Buck asks.

Hook.

Eddie shrugs. “Oh I just - Abuela taught me how to read palms when I was younger, and I thought I saw something.”

He leans back then, like he isn’t really interested at all. But he knows Buck like the back of his hand (no pun intended) so he knows that he won’t let it go. He holds his palm up to his face, squinting like there’s anything there to even make sense of.

And like - Abuela didn’t teach Eddie shit about reading palms, he just googled it once because he heard her talking about it and it made less than zero sense. But if they wanna say he doesn’t have game, well then, he just has to prove them wrong.

“Do mine, then,” Buck eventually says, holding his hand out for Eddie to look at.

Line.

Eddie sighs, as if he’s put out by Buck’s request. But he shuffles forward so he’s sitting right on the edge of the couch, and reaches out to pull Buck’s hand closer to him.

He lets his thumb brush over the back of his hand first, and resolutely ignores the way he feels Buck tremor at the contact. Eddie turns his hand over then; he slowly lets his fingers run down the lines, like he’s mapping out Buck’s future with nothing more than a gentle touch.

Eddie hums, like he knows what the fuck he’s looking at. “You have a really long love line,” he bullshits.

He can feel Chim and Hen watching the interaction, but he ignores them in favour of looking up at Buck. And like, he is kind of pretty, when you think about it - the bright baby blues, long lashes, full lips. Objectively speaking, of course.

Buck looks up at Eddie with his wide, curious eyes, and he’s got a half smile curving one side of his mouth upwards. His hair isn’t gelled into place either today, and his curls are all natural and soft-looking. And, okay - maybe it’s not entirely objective.

“What does that mean?” Buck asks.

“See where it ends between your middle and index finger?” Eddie points out, and Buck murmurs in acknowledgement. “It means you’re going to find your true love.”

“Wait, really?”

Eddie turns his hand over again then, let’s his thumb caress the back of it as he looks up at Buck through his eyelashes. He smiles - because Buck has already said that his smile alone is enough to win someone over - and then he nods his head.

“Wonder who it could be,” Eddie muses.

And he doesn’t even really mean to do it. He definitely didn’t plan on taking it this far, but then he’s slowly bowing his head, and he let’s his lips graze over the back of Buck’s hand in a gentle kiss. Eddie’s whole body goes tense for a second, but he can’t help the way he revels in the sound of Buck’s sharp intake of breath.

Sinker.

The room is silent for a second, and then Eddie pulls back and laughs. “And you said I don’t have game.”

Buck’s face goes from dazed, to shocked, to smiling so wide it’s a wonder his jaw doesn’t ache. He’s chuckling, and so are Chim and Hen, so Eddie feels like he’s probably succeeded in disproving their very incorrect assumptions.

“Okay, good one, Diaz,” Hen concedes.

“Maybe you’ve got a little game,” Chim says. “Just a little.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’ll take it because that’s about as big a compliment as Chim offers out. And then he looks at Buck, who’s still shaking his head, but smiling at Eddie like he won the fucking lottery or something. Weirdo.

“Nice moves,” Buck says.

Eddie pretends to take a bow. “Thank you, thank you ladies and gentlemen. I’ll be here all week,” he jokes, just to hear Buck laugh again, really.

“But do you really know how to read palms, though?” Buck asks.

And then they’re all back to teasing him again, so it’s almost easy for Eddie to ignore the way his heart feels like it’s beating a little too fast in his chest. He can almost pretend his lips don’t feel like tv static where they brushed against Buck’s skin.

It’s a slow shift. Like, one of those painstakingly drawn out ones where absolutely nothing happens all day. And the chaotic ones are hard work, of course, but it’s usually these kinds that are worse. Because they’re bored, and have nothing to do, and everyone just gets sleepy and cranky.

Eddie is honestly considering pulling out the Q-word, just to shake things up a bit.

They’ve eaten two full, uninterrupted meals, which - getting one uninterrupted meal in this place is usually a blessing, and two is completely unheard of. They’ve cleaned out their lockers, tidied the bunk room, worked out, and even cleaned the trucks. And Eddie is glad that no one is in, like, danger, or something. But he’s kind of losing his mind.

“Ow, fuck, shit” he hears Buck hiss.

Buck has been injured so many times that he’s is convinced it’s done permanent damage to Eddie’s heart. So he jumps out of his seat and rushes over to where the cursing came from. It’s probably nothing, Buck tends to be pretty clumsy. But, still. There’s no harm in double checking, because Eddie doesn’t want to find him unconscious on the floor in thirty minutes times, or whatever.

When he rounds the corner he finds Buck leaning against the truck, his finger in his mouth as he sucks on it. It only takes a glance at their tool bag on the floor next to Buck, for Eddie to realise that he’s cut himself on something. He rolls his eyes fondly, then walks closer to check Buck out.

“Let’s see the damage,” Eddie says.

Buck startles. He clearly hadn’t seen Eddie coming, and he gives him a sheepish grin as he holds his finger out for Eddie to look at.

“Nicked it on the handheld saw,” Buck confesses with a shrug. “It’s not too bad.”

Buck’s right, it’s nothing major. But with his blood thinners, Eddie wants to make sure it’s cleaned and wrapped up properly. So, without letting go of Buck’s hand, Eddie tugs him over to the ambulance to steal some of Hen and Chim’s supplies.

“I’m fine,” Buck insists, laughing as Eddie pulls him along.

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard that before,” Eddie teases. And he can’t see Buck roll his eyes, but he absolutely knows that he’s doing it.

Eddie makes him sit on the back of the ambulance while he roots around for an antiseptic wipe, and some gauze and tape. It might be a bit over the top - a bandaid would probably do just fine - but Eddie doesn’t want to risk anything with Buck.

Because they’ve almost lost him more times than Eddie cares to think about, thank you very much. And like, a cut on the finger isn’t going to kill him off, but Eddie’s gonna make sure anyway. Plus, Chris would kill him if Eddie let something happen to Buck, so. It’s for Christopher, more than himself.

“Hand,” Eddie instructs, as he sits down beside Buck.

Buck sighs, but he indulges Eddie anyway. He holds his hand out and Eddie takes it, rests it on his knee so he can clean it carefully. Eddie tries and fails to ignore the way it makes him feel - Buck doing what Eddie tells him, pliant in his hands.

And it’s kind of ridiculous, really, that Eddie’s heart is beating too fast in his chest, and his hands feel kind of clammy. It’s all his own fault, too. Because this wouldn’t have even been a thing last week, but Eddie just had to go and pull that stupid stunt, had to kiss Buck’s hand and get lost in the way Buck’s cheeks coloured and his breath hitched and - no. Nope. Eddie’s just - he’s not going there, okay.

Because if he thinks about that, then he has to think about everything else too - all the other moments where Buck smiled at him and Eddie’s heart fucking soared; or the times when Eddie felt an unnecessary anger when people hit on Buck; or the way his stomach gets all squirmy when he watches Christopher and Buck playing together.

So - no. No thank you.

He finishes taping the gauze to Buck’s finger, and then, without even thinking twice, he brings it up to his lips to kiss it better.

It’s just something he does with Christopher whenever he hurts himself, except this isn’t Christopher - this is Buck. His best friend who he may or may not have slightly beyond platonic feelings for. So Eddie just kind of freezes.

But then Buck is chuckling, and he takes his hand back from his grasp so he can tap it on the side of Eddie’s face in a good-natured gesture.

“Thanks,” he says. “I’ll let Chris know you kissed it better for me.”

Buck winks at him and laughs again, so Eddie sucks in a breath and forces a smile onto his face. It’s good. It’s chill. If Buck doesn’t care, then Eddie doesn’t either. It’s not even a big deal really, because Buck gets it, he’s seen Eddie do it a million times to Chris. Hell, he’s probably done it a couple of times himself. He won’t think anything of it.

And, thankfully, no one else was around to witness it. Because, while Buck was exceedingly normal about it, Hen, Chim, and Bobby would have ripped the absolute shit out of him for it.

“Be more careful next time,” Eddie warns him.

“Yes, sir,” Buck says, saluting him.

Before Eddie can even touch the way that made him feel, the alarm finally starts to ring out the through the station.

“Aw, yes,” Buck says, pumping his fist like a fifth grader.

It’s embarrassingly telling that even that makes Eddie smile fondly.

Eddie hates being separated from Buck when they’re on a call. It’s not because they work so well together that they can communicate through glances (which they do), and it’s not because they’re co-dependent either, Chimney (which they’re not).

It’s because no matter what the call is, bad shit always happens whenever they’re separated. Like the universe wants them to be together, or something dumb like that.

It’s an apartment block that’s gone up in flames, and all but the ground floor is already burning. Eddie doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t disrespect authority, but as soon as Bobby takes Buck, and sends Eddie in with Chim and Hen, he knows something is going to go wrong.

He’s not even superstitious. This isn’t like, something he’s fixated on and convinced himself it will happen. It’s just - the truck bomb, the tsunami, the well pipe, and the dog driving the car in Texas, and the hand sanitizer factory that almost killed Buck - they all happened when he and Buck weren’t together, when something was separating them.

So this isn’t superstition, it’s just fact at this point.

Eddie, Chim, and Hen clear the the lower three floors pretty quickly because most of the people had managed to make their own way out before things got too bad. It takes a little longer for Bobby and Buck to get everyone out of the upper floors, though. But Eddie’s whole body sighs in relief when he sees Bobby stumbling out the building with an old man at his side.

But then Buck is supposed to be on his heel and he just - isn’t. He’s not there, and Eddie is yelling into his radio, and so are Chim and Hen, and then Cap is too, once the paramedics have taken the patient from him. And Buck still isn’t responding.

“Buckley? Buck, what’s going on?” Cap says into his radio.

There’s nothing but static on the other end, and Eddie can’t breathe. It’s not a conscious decision, he doesn’t even realise that he’s heading towards the building until Chim and Hen are grabbing one arm each and pulling him backwards, holding on so tightly he can’t take another step forward.

“Eddie no,” Hen is saying.

“Diaz, stop it,” Bobby insists.

Eddie can’t stop, though. Not when Buck is in there, and the flames are consuming the entire building, and Eddie can’t feel his fucking hands with the anxiety of it.

“Buck,” he yells into his radio, breathless and terrified, and doing absolutely nothing to hide it.

It feels like everything is standing still except for the inferno in front of him - the inferno that’s swallowed Buck whole and doesn’t seem to want to give him back. And Eddie can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as Chim and Hen hold him back. Except they’re not holding him back anymore, they’re holding him up, because Eddie’s knees have started to buckle under the weight of his fear.

He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe - and then Buck is there, and he’s staggering, and gasping for breath, but he’s there and he’s okay.

And then Eddie is pulling out of Hen and Chim’s grasp, and he’s running at Buck. He wraps him up in his arms, pulls him so close than Eddie can feel Buck’s heart beating against his chest. He can’t find the words, doesn’t know what he could even say to him to express the sheer terror that had been coursing through his veins at the thought of losing Buck.

Because Buck isn’t just his work colleague; he’s not his partner, or even his best friend. Buck is - there just aren’t words for what Buck is to him. He’s half of Eddie’s heart, and Christopher is the other half, and to lose him would feel like losing a part of who he is.

Buck clings back, holds on for as long as Eddie does, like he needs this too - or like he knows how much Eddie needs it.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m fine,” Buck pants, and he’s close enough that Eddie can feel his breath on his neck.

“You scared me,” Eddie confesses.

And it feels big - like too much, too fast, and definitely at the wrong time. So Eddie bites his tongue and holds Buck closer. But he can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to Buck’s temple, like it says all the things Eddie is too scared to voice in case it makes everything else come crashing down.

“I’m sorry,” Buck repeats.

And it’s okay. He’s okay.

“Even my teeth hurt,” Buck whines.

And normally Eddie would say he’s being dramatic, but Buck is just getting over the worst bout of flu Eddie has probably ever seen. He’d been too sick to even move, and he’d stayed at his loft to make sure he didn’t get Eddie and Chris sick, but Eddie was over there half the time anyway. He kept Buck supplied with Abuela’s chicken noodle soup, and forced him into the shower every other day just to keep him resembling something alive.

He’s back at work after taking over a week off sick, which is the longest Buck has ever been off without being in hospital. And that’s how you know it was bad - that he hadn’t been ordered to stay off by doctors or Bobby, but that he was doing it of his own volition. Eddie was close to calling ambulance when Buck text him to tell him he wouldn’t be in work.

And Eddie is glad he’s back, obviously - it’s not the same working without his partner on his hip. Not that his replacements weren’t competent, they just weren’t Buck. But his skin is too pale, his eyes are too dull, and the dark circles beneath them are almost as bad as they were after the tsunami. He looks drained.

“Stop being such a drama queen,” Chim tells him.

“I’m not,” Buck grumbles, and Eddie thinks he’s probably telling the truth.

His voice still sounds kind of hoarse too, and Eddie makes a mental note to ask his Abuela to make him a pot of her homemade lemon and ginger tea.

“You sure you’re okay to be back, kid?” Bobby asks, peering at Buck over the newspaper he’s reading.

Eddie is behind him so he can’t see his face, but he’s certain that Buck is smiling as he nods. Because nothing can keep Buck away from work for long - not almost losing his leg, or a pulmonary embolism, and certainly not the flu.

“I’m good, cap,” Buck says.

And Eddie knows he wouldn’t lie about it, wouldn’t come back to work if he wasn’t certain he was better, because Buck would never put anyone else in danger. But he looks sleepy, and small as he pulls the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands and wraps his arms around himself.

“You want some tea?” Eddie asks, walking up behind where Buck is sitting on the couch.

Buck tilts his head so it’s resting on the back of the couch, and he’s looking up at Eddie with a lazy smile on his face. His cheeks are still flushed from the temperature that’s only just broke, and god, Eddie likes him so much that his hands feel clammy and his stomach feels swoopy.

He shakes his head. “I’m good thanks, Eds.”

Eddie puts his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Buck’s head, and he looks soft, and smiley. And it’s kind of just instinct, when he leans down to place a kiss on his forehead. His skin is warm to the touch, but that doesn’t explain why Eddie’s whole body feels electric.

Buck lets out a content little hum, and when Eddie straightens back up, no one is even looking them. It’s like this is something Eddie does all the time, like it’s completely normal for him to kiss Buck on the forehead when he’s sick - which it isn’t. But it could be, maybe. Maybe.

It’s too early and Eddie is too tired, and he’s also way behind schedule.

He’s picked up an extra shift at work because Christopher’s birthday is coming up and he wants it to be extra special, but neither Tía Pepa nor Abuela could watch Chris, and it’s Carla’s day off. So, naturally, Buck is his go-to.

Eddie has literally just stepped out of the shower when hears the front door unlock. He swears under his breath because he isn’t dressed, and Christopher isn’t fed yet, and if he’s not out of the house in the next thirteen minutes then Los Angeles traffic will not be kind to him, and he’s definitely going to be late. Again.

He gets dressed as fast as humanly possible without tripping over his own legs. He doesn’t even recognise the t-shirt he pulls on - or, no, he does recognise it, actually. It’s the one that Buck got when they took Christopher to the aquarium a few months back. It’s got two otters holding hands on it, and the words ‘you’re otter this world’ printed over the top. It’s cute.

But Eddie has no idea how it ended up in his laundry. That just kind of happens sometimes. It’s the price you pay for having a busy job and a kid who loves your best friend almost more than you. He’s sure that Buck won’t mind though, and he doesn’t have time to change now, anyway.

“I’ll be one minute!” He calls out to Buck.

“You gotta be out of here in seven,” Buck yells back.

And Eddie doesn’t know when Buck started staying over enough that he knows exactly how long it takes for him to get to work, but he’s not exactly complaining about it. He’s around more often than he’s not now, and it’s kind of doing - things, to Eddie.

Because he always wants Buck around, like, literally always. And he knows Buck worries that he’s imposing on Eddie and Chris, but he couldn’t be further from the truth. They both, well. They both love him, and having him around all the time makes it really feels like Buck is part of their family - like he’s here to stay. Eddie likes it, and it also kind of breaks his heart too.

He’s almost breathless by the time he heads into the kitchen and - he checks his phone - he has four minutes to make Chris breakfast.

But Buck and Christopher are already sitting at the kitchen counter eating jam on toast, and Buck is laughing while Chris tells him the story about a teacher from school getting his finger stuck in a chair. It kind of knocks the breath out of Eddie for a second, seeing them like this. It makes his heart ache in a good way - knowing that Buck loves Christopher just as much as Eddie does, and that Chris loves Buck right back.

Eddie huffs out a breath a little too loud, because Buck turns around and smiles when he sees him. He doesn’t even hesitate, just leans backwards to hand Eddie a thermos of coffee - and god, Eddie would marry him right now, no joke.

“Keys and work bag are by the door,” Buck tells him.

It floors Eddie, how much Buck just fits into their life, like a missing puzzle piece finally slotting into place.

“Thank you, Buck,” Eddie says. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Buck flashes him a cheesy grin, like he knows exactly how much he’s saved Eddie’s ass today. “Two minutes,” he warns.

Eddie grunts. If there was ever a time he wanted to stay home, it’s right now. But he could use the money, and Buck is giving up his day off for this, so he takes a slice of toast off the plate Buck is offering to him.

“Chris, I gotta go okay, buddy?” Eddie says. “You’re gonna be good for Buck, right?”

Chris laughs, and Buck scoffs while gently elbowing Chris in the side.

“Superman is always good,” Buck insists.

And Eddie rolls his eyes, because he loves his kid more than life itself, but that is absolutely not true. Christopher can be the actual spawn of Satan when he’s having a bad day, it’s just that he never has bad days around Buck.

Which, when Eddie thinks about it - he doesn’t have bad days around Buck, either. He definitely does not have the time to analyse that, though.

“I’ll be good, dad,” Chris promises.

“Thank you bud, see you later. I love you,” Eddie tells him.

He leans between them to press a kiss to Chris’ cheek, and then, without even thinking about it, he turns his head and kisses Buck on the cheek too.

Christopher doesn’t even notice, too preoccupied with shovelling as much food down as he possibly can. But Buck stills and his cheeks flush an obscene shade of pink, and Eddie feels his heart quite literally skip a beat. Eddie kind of just hovers there for a minute, like he’s too scared to move or even breathe.

“One minute,” Buck whispers, and he sounds almost winded but there’s the hint of a shy smile on his lips. It startles Eddie back into action.

“Right, yes,” Eddie says. “If you need anything then-“

“-We’ll be fine, go,” Buck laughs, half shoving Eddie towards the door.

So Eddie leaves, because if he stays a single second longer he’s certain he’ll never be able to walk away again.

Eddie and Buck were both working on Friday, so they had to move their weekly movie night with Chris to Saturday instead.

Buck and Chris made burgers for dinner, and neither of them would let Eddie anywhere near the kitchen- which is rude, honestly. Because Eddie can cook, just as long as it’s all pre-made and he just has to put it in the microwave. Whatever. Chris even smacked a spoon on the back of his hand when he tried to steal some cheese from the cutting board.

”He got that from you,” Eddie had insisted, and Buck just smiled like it was the greatest thing Eddie could have possibly said to him.

They eat the burgers, and fries, and salad, or - Buck and Eddie eat the salad, Chris just pulls his face at it. But it’s nice, sitting down around the table and listening to Chris talk about his week at school, and Buck rattling off facts from his new book about the moon landing.

It just - it feels like family, like this is exactly how they’re supposed to be, and what it’s gonna be like for the rest of their lives. It’s hard to imagine that it won’t be, one day. That Buck will find someone, and Eddie might too, eventually, and their Buckley-Diaz movie nights will be no more.

But that’s too much to deal with for a Saturday night with his two favourite people, so Eddie pushes it to the back of his mind. He laughs at Chris’ stories, and he and Buck tell Chris about the age appropriate work calls they’ve attended this week, and it’s good.

Christopher picks Tangled for their movie of choice, and he snuggles in between them with a huge bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“I love this movie,” he says.

“Me too, kid,” Buck agrees. “I love the horse the best.”

“And the chameleon!”

Buck laughs and ruffles Chris’ hair, and it’s a testament to how much Christopher loves Buck that he lets him do that, because if Eddie tried he’d get another smack to the hand. And that’s just another thing that makes Eddie feel all warm inside - knowing that if anything ever happened to him, Chris would be so well taken care of with Buck.

Eddie can’t really focus on the movie, what with Christopher constantly wriggling around like a worm. Also the fact that Buck’s arm is stretched along the back of the couch, and every so often the tips of his fingers brush against Eddie’s neck, and it’s kind of making him lose his breath.

So, he’s having a great time. He just has no idea what’s actually going on, except that there’s a horse and an old man in angel wings. Whatever the hell that’s about.

Not even an hour into the movie, Christopher is fast asleep. He’s curled into Buck’s chest, but his legs are spread out over Eddie’s lap too, like he owns the damn place. Which, he does, really. And it’s the first time he’s been quiet and still since the moment he got home from school and realised Buck was here, so. Eddie definitely isn’t complaining.

It feels like there’s a change in the atmosphere, now that Chris isn’t awake to fill up all the space in the room. Now the air feels charged, like if Eddie were to stick his tongue out it would crackle with electricity.

He’s too aware of how close he and Buck are sitting, their arms brushing together every time they so much as breathe. Buck’s hand is still tickling the back of his neck every minute or so, and Eddie feels frozen in place. It’s just - it’s too much, and not enough, and Eddie isn’t sure if he’s allowed to want more than this, but he does anyway. He wants everything with Buck.

He takes a breath, and dares to turn his head and look at Buck. Only when Eddie’s eyes fall on him, Buck is already looking back. His eyes are wide and bright, and he looks so soft and at home here, with Eddie and their son - it’s like nothing has ever felt more right than this.

So it’s a choice, when Eddie leans closer towards Buck, and his heart feels sticky in his chest when Buck leans in to meet him. And when their lips finally touch, he tastes like popcorn, and soda, and magic, and Buck. It tastes like home.

“Hi,” Eddie murmurs against his lips.

He can feel Buck smile when he says, “Hi back.”

“I kinda love you,” Eddie confesses.

Buck presses their lips together again, soft, and short, and sweet, and Eddie thinks he’d like to live in this moment for the rest of his life.

“I kinda love you too,” Buck replies. When Eddie pulls back, Buck is smiling so bright that he lights up the whole room.

Loving him feels like every colour of the rainbow. It feels like days at the beach, and lazy weekends, and the first flowers of spring. Loving Buck is the easiest thing in the whole word, and Eddie can’t wait to do it for the rest of his life. He can’t wait to always choose Buck.