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1
See, here’s the thing. Eddie was a repressed gay man. He’d realised he was gay at thirteen then spent the next twenty years with his fingers in his ears saying “la la la I can’t hear you” to any and all queer thoughts or inclinations that crossed his mind.
The key phrase here is that Eddie was a repressed gay man. Months of therapy after Chris left for Texas, late wine nights with Hen and Karen, several heated screaming matches with his mother over the phone, and one tearful confession to Chris on their drive back to California later and Eddie is no longer a repressed gay man. Sure, only four people in his life know this (Chris, Frank, Hen, and Karen) but the point is that he isn’t repressed anymore. He’s not all the way out of the closet yet but he’s propped the door open and is letting fresh air in, and if anyone walking past happens to look in and see him so be it.
And here’s the other thing. Eddie is hopelessly, unconditionally, irreversibly in love with his best friend. Coming to terms with that had been a whole other thing and it had taken a firm slap upside the head from Hen for him to fully accept that he deserves to be happy and deserves to get what he wants (Buck).
But here’s the last thing – Buck has a boyfriend who seems to make him happy. Or at least is a decent enough place holder in his life until Buck realises he deserves to be happy and deserves to get what he wanted. Eddie isn’t sure if he is what Buck wants, and far be it from him to torpedo his life (again) by desperately chasing after the wrong person. Not that Buck is the wrong person – quite the opposite, actually. But Buck being the right person for him doesn’t make him the right person for Buck.
So this is where Eddie’s head is at. Unrepressed, gay, not out to his best friend, in love with said best friend, and spiralling about it a little (a lot).
Okay here’s the actual thing – seeing Buck with Tommy makes Eddie feel physically ill. They’re not super affectionate which Eddie finds perplexing because Buck is a pretty touchy person – standing directly in the personal space of everyone at work, draping himself over whoever is nearest when he’s tired, knocking knees and shoulders with Eddie on calls and in the back of the truck, falling asleep on Eddie’s shoulder when they stay up too late watching sitcom re-runs at Eddie’s place...the list goes on. But with Tommy, Eddie has barely seen them do so much as hold hands.
Eddie blames their usual weirdly polite distance from each other on his reaction to seeing Tommy lean in to kiss Buck. So if anyone asks Eddie was surprised, which is why -
“Hey Buck, I need your help!” Eddie lies like the liar he is, and he can tell Tommy doesn't believe a word Eddie said which isn’t surprising given the way his voice cracked like a pre-pubescent teen.
“Coming!” Buck chimes enthusiastically, turning on his heel with a quick flash of an apologetic smile to Tommy before he strides over to where Eddie is standing and checking inventory in the ambulance.
“Bye, then,” Tommy calls across the space between them (ha take that). “You’re welcome for the ride in.”
“Oh, uh. Bye Tommy, thanks,” Buck replies sheepishly before turning his undivided attention back to Eddie. “What’s up?”
‘You were about to kiss someone who isn’t me,’ Eddie thinks bitterly.
“Dump your stuff and grab a clipboard?” Is what he says out loud. A smile others may describe as evil (but Eddie describes as endearing) breaks out across Buck’s face as he all but sprints to the locker room to change. Eddie feels a little victorious (okay, a lot victorious).
Yeah, interrupting right as Tommy was about to kiss Buck was definitely only because it had surprised Eddie and not on purpose. Because only a crazy person would intentionally stop someone kissing their boyfriend without a good enough reason. And Eddie’s not a crazy person, right? Right.
2
Eddie might be a crazy person. The next time he interrupts an almost-kiss between the love of his life and the stale piece of white bread he’s dating is definitely on purpose and actually took a little careful planning and a little help from his son (who doesn’t even know he’s been roped into Eddie’s Circus of Insanity).
Buck is coming over for dinner and a movie, and Eddie absolutely insisted on cooking instead of the usual Chinese/Thai/Pizza/Indian they usually order.
“Linda sent me a new recipe I want to try. You don’t mind, right?” Eddie had said at the end of their shift the day before, and Buck had flashed him a bright and easy grin.
“Sure, I’m good with whatever. As long as there’s beer, Christopher, you, and Andrew Garfield I’m happy,” he’d replied and Eddie had melted a little. Maybe, maybe, if he cooked well enough tomorrow night Buck would call Tommy on the spot and dump him before shoving his tongue so far down Eddie’s throat he can taste what Eddie had for breakfast. Or, you know, something more normal than that.
This is the plan right up until Buck – no, Tommy pulls into his driveway. Eddie spots the car though the window, runs to the kitchen, and dumps an extra half cup of milk into the simmering sauce on the stove.
“Uh, Chris? Can you see if Buck is here yet? I don’t think the sauce is supposed to look like this,” Eddie calls out from the kitchen. Chris grumbles but makes his way over to the door and like the wonderful teenager he is simply opens it and yells.
“Buck! Dad is ruining dinner, we need you!” Chris shuffles into the kitchen and Eddie has never loved the sullen teen phase more than he does right now.
“I could have done that,” Eddie admonishes but it’s weak and Chris knows it.
“They were about to kiss,” Chris tells him quietly as Buck enters the house, kicking off his shoes and closing the front door behind him. Victory!
“Alright, what are we working with here,” Buck murmurs as he steps into Eddie’s space, peering over his shoulder to the now far too liquidy sauce in the saucepan.
“I added too much milk,” Eddie tells him. “The recipe doesn’t tell you what to do if you add too much milk.”
“Google would,” Chris interjects from the dining table.
“I don't need Google when I have Buck,” Eddie retorts. Behind him, Buck shifts a little and clears his throat, before reaching around Eddie to the pantry.
“Cornstarch should do the trick. A couple of teaspoons in some warm water will thicken the sauce right up. As you heat and hydrate the cornstarch it absorbs the water and swells, releasing the starch molecules and thickening the sauce,” Buck rambles and he moves effortlessly around Eddie’s kitchen. The sauce gets fixed, dinner is actually pretty great, the beers are cold, and Buck is warm next to him on the couch.
When Eddie heads into the kitchen to grab the brownies he’d grabbed for dessert, Chris follows him.
“I read the ingredients out to you,” he states flatly. Eddie freezes as he’s placing the brownies in the microwave (he bought the expensive fudgy ones Buck loves – they go all melty in the middle when they’re warm, and Eddie goes all melty in the middle when he watches Buck eat them).
“You did,” Eddie agrees calmly, pressing buttons with far more care than usual, then taking deep breaths as he watches the plate rotate as the brownies heat up.
“I watched you add the milk,” Chris continues. “You added one cup, just like I told you to.”
“I did,” Eddie responds, “at first.”
“Where did the extra milk come from?” Chris asks. Eddie turns around and Chris is standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Eddie loves the sullen teen phase a little less in this moment.
“The carton,” Eddie retorts and is rewarded with one of Chris’ most impressive eye-rolls to date. Abuela had told Eddie in Texas that Chris is hands-down his father’s son, petty attitude and all. Eddie had spent around fifteen minutes after that carrying on about how much like Buck Chris is as well. And, so. Maybe Abuela knows as well.
“Ha ha.” The sarcastic laugh is very Eddie and there’s a brief moment of pity for his parents having to deal with a bratty pre-teen Eddie (because teen Eddie would have been disowned for that attitude) that’s quickly washed away when he remembers the months he just spent without his son.
“I thought the sauce looked too thick,” Eddie lies because he’s a liar.
“No you didn’t,” Chris calls him out. Damnit.
“Okay, no I didn’t,” Eddie says slowly. Chris is watching him carefully, head tilted to the side. He’s too fucking perceptive – that is all Buck. Chris hasn’t said anything by the time the microwave beeps and Eddie is grabbing three forks from the drawer by the sink. He opens his mouth to say something, but then Chris is – well, wonderful.
“I’m glad Buck didn’t kiss Tommy,” he mutters.
“Why?” Eddie asks, breath caught in his chest.
“I don’t like him,” Chris shrugs and god Eddie loves his kid.
“Me either,” Eddie admits with a sigh. He pulls Chris in for a hug as they leave the kitchen, pointedly not looking at Buck stretched out and half-asleep on the couch.
“He doesn’t make Buck laugh like you do,” Chris mumbles and Eddie squeezes him a little tighter.
“I’m working on something, don’t worry. Thanks for your help, bud. Love you,” Eddie whispers, kissing the top of Chris’ head. Buck smiles up at him, sleepy and soft, before snatching the plate out of Eddie’s hand and digging into his brownie. Eddie decides that just for tonight, he’ll pretend Buck is his. Then it’ll be time to plan his next move.
3
Eddie can feel himself coming a little unglued, loose at the hinges, off his rocker...plus any other figure of speech you can think of to describe then fact that Eddie is slowly going insane . He’s obviously not around Buck and Tommy all the time so he can’t stop every kiss, but he sure as hell can stop any kisses from happening in front of him. Out of sight, out of mind.
Kind of.
It’s a cool evening, the team and their partners enjoying dinner and drinks at the Wilson’s. People are floating in and out of the backyard carrying trays of food, bottles of wine, cutlery, napkins...everything except for plates, which Eddie valiantly volunteers to carry out. Coincidentally, Buck is outside with Tommy and near the glass sliding door. If anyone asks, Eddie was adjusting his grip on the (intentionally) too large stack of plates before exiting and not watching and waiting for the perfect moment to step outside and ‘accidentally’ almost drop said plates.
He watches carefully as Tommy takes a step closer, willing himself not to just fling a plate at his head. It’d distract him enough for sure, but Eddie doesn’t think he’d be able to excuse his way out of that one. ‘Oops I slipped’ when you’re ten feet away and actually have pretty spectacular spatial awareness and hand-eye coordination wouldn’t really fly, so instead Eddie toes the door open as Tommy leans in and ‘stumbles’ with the towering plates.
“Oh fuck,” he says louder than he needs to, catching Buck’s attention just in time.
“Whoa, need a hand there Mr Balance?” Buck snorts, stepping away from Tommy (victory!) to grab half the plates out of Eddie’s hands. Behind him, Tommy is regarding Eddie through narrowed eyes which, well. Eddie cares about it less than he probably should. Buck follows him over to the table, knocking their shoulders together as they stand side by side to put the plates down.
“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie murmurs, chancing another look at Tommy who is standing with his arms crossed watching him and Buck.
“Hey, I got your back, remember?” Buck nudges Eddie lightly with his elbow and grins, and Eddie really doesn’t fucking care what Tommy thinks, because Tommy will never have this with Buck. The casual ease between them that developed (possibly alarmingly) fast, the warm looks, the...everything. The BuckandEddie of it all.
“Didn’t realise that extended to plates,” Eddie chuckles. Buck rolls his eyes and hip checks Eddie over in favour of organising the cutlery that Chimney had unceremoniously dumped in a pile in the middle of the table.
“Can even extend to bread plates if you need it to,” Buck hums.
“Good, I’ll keep that in mind during my next midnight bread plate emergency,” Eddie retorts, his insides turning to liquid as Buck throws his head back and laughs. Take that, Tommy.
4
The next time is an accident – actually an accident this time. Eddie is heading to Buck’s for beers and lasagna, which Eddie needled Buck into making. Not that it took much needling – Buck loves cooking and Eddie secretly suspects Buck especially loves cooking for him, if the expectant and anxious look on his face as Eddie takes the first few bites are any indication. He especially loves how Buck’s cheeks flush and expression softens when Eddie tells Buck the food is great, and the way he ducks his head when Eddie points out the little details in the meal he loves – the crispy edges of the potatoes, the slight heat from the jalapeños, the extra roasted garlic he put in, or the earthy undertones from the truffle. Eddie wonders if Tommy ever makes him smile like that.
When Eddie arrives at Buck’s he doesn’t bother with the doorbell, simply scanning himself into the building and using his key to unlock Buck’s door. The door hits something solid as Eddie shoulders it open, hands full of beers and brownies (again).
“Oof,” comes a voice from behind the door.
“Oh shit, sorry! Didn’t see – oh, Tommy. Sorry dude,” Eddie says flatly, and even he can hear how fake it sounds.
“That’s - you have a key?” Tommy asks, eyeing Eddie suspiciously again.
“Have for years,” Eddie replies with a shrug. Buck steps away from Tommy (ha!) and takes the beers from Eddie, walking to the kitchen and putting them in the fridge. He hands one to Eddie who (of course) follows Buck to the kitchen, standing close enough that he can feel Buck’s body heat and thinks he can maybe hear his heartbeat (or maybe that’s just his own). They clink their bottles together and Eddie grins at Buck, not bothering to hold back the likely completely dopey look in his eyes.
“Huh,” Tommy replies, jaw ticking slightly. Eddie could be in trouble here.
“I’m just gonna change out of these jeans,” Buck tells Eddie (not Tommy, Eddie notes with a pang of pride) and jogs up the stairs two at a time.
“Take your time,” Eddie calls after him, pulling plates out of the cupboard. As he sets the table Tommy moves closer, leaning on the back of one of the chairs.
“I know what you’re doing,” he says in a low voice. Eddie freezes, only for a split second, likely unnoticeable to Tommy. Buck would have clocked it immediately, Eddie knows this for sure.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eddie responds, voice even. “I’m just setting the table for dinner. You staying?”
“No, I have a shift. And I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Eddie. You’ve had some strangely impeccable timing over the last few weeks. Because to me it seems like every time I’m about to kiss Evan when we’re anywhere near you, you find a way to interrupt,” Tommy continues. His voice is still low, he obviously doesn’t intend for Buck to overhear him. Maybe Eddie should feel bad about Tommy noticing what he’s doing, but the reality is that he just does not give a flying fuck what the guy thinks of him. Eddie thinks of him simply as a speed bump on his and Buck’s road to each other. A hurdle. A pit stop for Buck. He’s not going to last, and if Tommy has picked up on the fact that Eddie is...hurrying that process along a little then so be it.
“Sounds to me like you’ve spent too much time around the Prince of Conspiracy Theories up there,” Eddie snorts, gesturing up to Buck’s bedroom.
“Prince?”
“Chimney is King,” Eddie sighs. The table is set now and Eddie has no choice but to look at Buck’s saltine cracker of a boyfriend.
“Right. Whatever. I don’t - what is your problem? I didn’t peg you as homophobic,” Tommy mutters.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs with an eye roll so hard it hurts a little. “You’re reading way too much into whatever you think is going on here. Relax.”
“Whatever, Eddie. I hope you can sleep alright at night with whatever is going on in your head,” Tommy tells him, turning to walk away. He heads up the stairs and Eddie clenches his jaw, because there’s nothing he can do now to stop someone else kissing the love of his life without completely giving himself away.
“Is that burning I smell?” Buck yells out, pushing past Tommy on the stairs and running into the kitchen. Eddie maintains his position by the dining table, both hands in the air.
“I can’t smell anything,” Tommy says, turning around and coming back down the stairs
“I didn’t do it!” Eddie exclaims. “I did not touch a thing except the plates.”
“Because you’re so trustworthy with plates,” Tommy snarks and this might be the first time Eddie has wanted to hit him. Buck shoots him a weird look before busying himself with the oven, poking and prodding at the definitely not burnt lasagna.
“All good?” Eddie asks softly, moving to stand behind Buck and ignoring Tommy’s pained sigh.
“I think so, I definitely thought I could smell burning,” Buck huffs, turning the tray around. He settles back on his heels, inspecting the bottom of the oven for fallen crumbs or melted cheese maybe, Eddie’s not sure. What he is sure of is that he needs to up the ante in getting Tommy out of the picture.
“Evan, I need to go,” Tommy calls out pointedly from near the door. Buck doesn’t move, and is now using the tongs to pick up what seems to be a piece of garlic bread – or was, but is now a brick of carbon.
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later,” Buck says dismissively, waving one hand above his head. Tommy sighs again and turns to leave, shooting Eddie a filthy look on his way out. Whatever. This one was not Eddie’s fault.
5
The next time takes a little more meticulous planning and a hefty tip for an Uber Eats driver. Movie and dinner night has rolled around again, and Buck messages Eddie to let him know that Tommy will be dropping him off at six on his way to work. ‘Why the fuck is this bowl of plain white rice driving Buck everywhere’ is Eddie’s first thought, followed swiftly by ‘time to ruin Tommy’s day’.
“Hey Chris, what do you want from the Indian place?” Eddie calls out as he wanders through the living room. He thinks ‘accidentally’ fucking up dinner a second time might give him away, so he decides to go with ordering from Buck’s favourite Indian take-away and getting all his favourite dishes.
“Just my usual,” Chris answers with a dismissive wave. “And don’t forget Buck’s -”
“Chicken Mango Masala, Mushroom Biriyani, Aloo Gobi, extra garlic naan,” Eddie rattles off, adding items to his cart.
“That’s a lot of food,” Chris comments, eyes wide.
“...Vegetable Pakora and the paratha,” Eddie finishes. Maybe it is a lot of food – maybe it’s too much (it’s definitely too much). But Eddie has A Plan™ that involves creating a weak excuse for Buck to stay the night and subtle flirting involving a stack of cheap bread plates he’d picked up.
“We’re gonna be eating leftovers for days,” Chris groans, having inherited Shannon’s distaste for eating the same thing several days in a row. Eddie doesn’t care – if he enjoys eating something, why wouldn’t he want to have it as much as he can?
“I’ll ask Buck to stay over tonight and it’ll be gone after lunch tomorrow,” Eddie assures him. Chris eyes him warily but shrugs it off, turning back to his game.
“What about Tommy?” Chris asks, not looking up. What about Tommy indeed. It had been a couple of weeks since the awkward moment at Buck’s loft, and Eddie hadn’t seen Tommy since. Wasn’t really going to be able to get out of it tonight, given they’d be here right about the time the food was scheduled to arrive. Exactly as the food was scheduled to arrive, if the delivery driver was willing to follow Eddie’s insane delivery instructions for the fifty-dollar tip he was offering.
“He’s dropping Buck off soon,” Eddie hums as Terrence confirms he’s happy to sit with the food around the corner until he spots the car.
“What do I need to yell to him about this time?” Chris asks. “You could fall over, maybe.”
“I’ve got it sorted bud, just wait and see,” Eddie assures him with a smirk. Maybe it’s a little weird that he’s roped Chris into his unhinged nonsense, but he kind of loves conspiring with his kid. Makes him want to give Chris a sibling. Buck would definitely be down for another kid, Eddie thinks. But Eddie needs to get him first.
Eddie sits and waits impatiently, annoying Chris with his hovering around the door as it nears six.
“Okay, what’s the plan?" Chris sighs, exasperated.
“Come and see,” Eddie tells him as Tommy’s car pulls into the driveway. Right on cue, a white sedan pulls up on the street, the delivery driver out of his car right as Buck steps out of Tommy’s. Terrence’s arms are laden with containers, foregoing the bags just as Eddie requested. Buck is quick to move and help him, taking several boxes from the delivery driver and shouting a goodbye to Tommy over his shoulder.
“Nice,” Chris giggles as Eddie opens the door. Buck steps over the threshold with a bright grin, and Eddie takes the remaining containers from Terrence.
“Thanks man, you’re a lifesaver,” Eddie tells him quietly. “There’s another $20 coming your way.”
“Anytime, your tip just covered my gas for the next two days,” Terrence laughs, waving as he heads off. Eddie heads inside where Chris and Buck have already set up plates in the living room.
“Eddie there’s enough food for like six people here,” Buck snorts.
“Yeah, I went a little overboard. Crash here tonight and have leftovers for lunch with us tomorrow?” Eddie knows the excuse is flimsy, because he could far more easily just send leftovers home with Buck. But Eddie is growing increasingly desperate for Buck’s company, so. That, and the second half of his plan hinges entirely on Buck being asleep on the couch at around midnight.
“Was planning to anyway,” Buck grins, opening containers. “Hang on, these are...these are all my favourite dishes. Where’s your tandoori chicken? The dal?”
“What, can’t a guy spoil his two most favourite people in the world?” Eddie scoffs. It's probably revealing too much, it’s definitely too bold, but Eddie feels a little weak in the knees over the way Buck blushes and bites his bottom lip. So, it’s fine.
--
Better than fine, really, because after eating about as much Indian food as they can handle and watching the first two Ant-Man movies Buck is set up on the couch and Eddie is ‘headed to bed’. It’s just after eleven and Christopher is already snoring away in his room. It had killed him a little not to stay up with Buck and drink a couple of beers like they usually would, but Eddie needs him asleep by midnight.
At five minutes to Eddie quietly opens his door, hearing Buck’s snores drifting down the hall. How he ended up with a kid that snores and a soulmate that snores he’ll never know, but he wouldn’t change a thing. Eddie pads through the loungeroom in silence and makes his way into the kitchen, pulling the stack of approximately ten bread plates out from the back of the pots and pans cupboard (where he knew Buck wouldn’t need to look tonight).
“Sorry Buck,” Eddie whispers as the holds the plates above his head and drops them to the ground. They shatter loudly, splintering and cracking. Shards fly everywhere and Eddie hadn’t really though this through when he bought cheap plates because he wasn’t wearing shoes and couldn’t reach the dustpan from where he was standing.
“Eddie?” Buck calls out, and he’s in the kitchen in seconds. “What -”
“Midnight bread plate emergency?” Eddie says with an apologetic smile. Buck snorts and brings a hand up to cover this mouth and muffle his laugh.
“I’ll say,” he snickers. “Let me get my shoes, I don’t really feel like picking shards out of my feet all night. Don’t move!”
“Aye aye, captain,” Eddie salutes. Buck is back quickly with his own shoes on and a pair of Eddie’s runners, crouching down to help put them on so he can step out of the way.
“How did this even happen?” Buck asks as he retrieves the dustpan from underneath the sink.
“I’m bad with plates?” Eddie suggests with a shrug. Buck snorts again and starts sweeping up the mess. “Hey, you don’t have to -”
“Did I or did I not promise to even have your back in the event of a midnight bread plate emergency?” Buck says pointedly, levelling Eddie with a warm gaze that turns his insides to liquid.
“You did,” Eddie replies hoarsely. This was somehow the dumbest and best idea Eddie has ever had, because watching Buck flex and bend over to sweep up the shattered plates is a truly beautiful sight. Especially with his sleep-rumpled shirt and messy curls. Eddie is a fucking goner and needs to wrap this up soon.
+1
Soon comes the next evening, just a couple of hours after Eddie dropped Buck home on his way to drop Chris at Hen’s for dinner
Buck: Come over?
Eddie: Sure, be there in 10. Want me to bring anything?
Buck: Nah
Okay, so. Something is off. Buck usually sends multiple texts in a row, telling Eddie exactly why he wants him to come over. Three words over two texts is painfully off-brand for Buck, so Eddie is...well, he would say he’s freaking out but given how completely unhinged he’s been over the last few weeks he can’t be sure of how he’s really feeling. But this might be a reason to freak out.
His instinct is correct when he opens Buck’s door and finds Tommy standing at the bottom of the stairs already looking pissed off, and Buck standing next to him looking...confused. Conflicted. Maybe a little worried?
“Everything okay?” Eddie asks slowly, setting his keys down.
“Do you ever knock?” Tommy snipes. Eddie and Buck both flinch at that, with Buck taking a noticeable half step away from him.
“Not when I’ve been invited over, no,” Eddie replies cooly.
“Uh. Tommy mentioned something I need to ask you about,” Buck says nervously. He’s twitchy and fidgeting and Eddie suddenly feels crushingly guilty. He hadn’t stopped to think how this end part might make Buck feel, so focused on how happy he knew they’d been when they were finally together.
“Go for it,” Eddie croaks, knowing there’s no way out now. This is it.
“I don’t - I didn’t want to ambush you like this, but -”
“But I knew there was a chance you wouldn’t admit it if I wasn’t here as well,” Tommy scoffs. Buck flashes him a pleading look before turning back to Eddie.
“Have you – this sounds so stupid. Have you been stopping me and Tommy kissing on purpose?” Buck sounds like he doesn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth, and looks like he’s waiting to wake up from a dream.
“Yes,” Eddie answers, because it’s now or never.
“What?” Buck whispers.
“I told you!” Tommy shouts. “I fucking told you he was doing it intentionally. What is your problem, Eddie?”
“You. You’re my problem,” Eddie finally snaps. Buck’s eyes are wide and he takes another step, towards Eddie this time. Eddie wants to reach out so badly but he can’t quite read the look on Buck’s face. He’s standing on the edge of a precipice, wondering if he’s ready to jump.
“Why?” Buck asks. Eddie takes the leap.
“Because,” he murmurs, stepping closer and planting his hand on Buck’s shoulder making sure this thumb is brushing the bare skin over the pulse point. He leans in further, lips brushing Buck’s ear.
“Oh come on ,” he vaguely hears Tommy say.
“The next person you use your lips on had better be me,” Eddie finishes saying before releasing Buck from his grasp and turning on his heels to walk out the door.
“Are you fucking serious?” Tommy yells after him as he walks down the hallway. He opts for the stairs over the lift, taking them slower than he usually would because he’s waiting. ‘Chase me,’ he thinks, ‘chase me, grab me, kiss me, choose me, chase me, chase me, chase me .’ He doesn’t hear any footsteps behind him but the blood is rushing so loudly in his hears that Eddie thinks someone could fire a gun in the stairwell and he still wouldn’t hear it.
This theory proves correct when suddenly he’s being grabbed by the wrist and pinned against the wall of the stairwell. Buck’s lips are on his own before he can even register what is happening, but his body reacts instinctively to the touch. He cups Buck’s face with both hands, sighing into the kiss as Buck presses their bodies together. The kiss is everything Eddie knew it would be – warm, comfortable, fucking electric .
“I broke up with him,” Buck gasps when the pull apart for air. “Told him he was right and that it was over. Ran after you.”
“Chose me,” Eddie breathes, his hands moving to Buck’s hips.
“Would have done it a lot sooner if I’d known you were an option. Because you’re the only option as far as I’m concerned,” Buck admits. He’s got one hand in Eddie’s hair and the other on the back of his neck. Their foreheads are resting together and they’re breathing in tandem, inhaling and exhaling on the same beats.
“I love you,” Eddie confesses, “so damn much.”
“I love you too,” Buck grins. “Now can we please take this out of my stairwell?”
“Come back home with me?” Eddie asks, because honestly? It’s not home unless Buck is there too.
“Yeah, Eddie. Take me home.”
--
Chris is fucking thrilled, especially when Eddie explains to them both in great detail the extent of his insane plan.
“You’re insane,” Buck tells him gleefully, head pillowed on Eddie’s shoulder.
“Completely,” Eddie replies. “For you.”
“Gross,” Christopher gags, and Buck laughs. Eddie’s world is back on its axis, and he tucks his unhinged energy away until he needs it again. His proposal is gonna have to top this.