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Camping, Buck’s decided, is awesome.
He feels almost connected to his ancestors here, with his hands in the dirt, head tilted toward the fire. It’s special, this feeling. It’s not something one could recreate in a city, where the light pollution blots out the stars, and the sound of life is one constant hum in the background. Here, on the outskirts of society, it’s so quiet Buck can hear himself breathe. But it’s the company that makes it special, Buck knows. He’s been on the road before, has slept on the ground and in his jeep, the freedom of the open road and no place to be stretching out ahead of him, and it had nothing on this.
The peace doubles when Buck remembers why he’s here, too– because Eddie was the one to suggest the two of them go camping. Eddie packed the jeep, which means Eddie made the executive decision to only bring one tent, and maybe, just maybe, that means Eddie’s ready to talk about whatever’s been going on with him for the better part of three months now.
The Change, as Buck’s come to call it in his head, isn’t anything remarkable. But then again, it happened to Eddie, within Eddie, so actually it is pretty remarkable. But Buck isn’t sure how to describe it. One day, he’d just sort of… noticed it. That Eddie’s happier. That he’d shed the lingering weight on his shoulders he’d brought with him when he moved back to LA with Chris. He smiles easier, is quicker to laugh, and sometimes, he even sings in the shower. Eddie never used to sing in the shower.
Beside him, Eddie presses his thigh to Buck’s, and Buck rolls his head to look at him. He doesn’t quite manage to squash the sudden rush of affection he feels for him when Eddie raises an eyebrow, holding up a marshmallow.
Buck nods at his hands, which are currently buried in the dirt. Eddie huffs.
“Feed me, Seymour,” Buck grins.
“You’re worse than Chris,” Eddie says, but still, he holds the marshmallow up high enough for Buck to capture it with his teeth. He stares, unimpressed, when Buck sucks the marshmallow into his mouth and smiles like a chipmunk.
The thing is, Buck’s known Eddie Diaz for nearly a decade. He knows Eddie, knows him down to the bone. Buck’s made him laugh on days he could barely muster a smile, helped him find the words when he needed to speak but couldn’t find the words– anything to have him smiling at him again, eyes softening the way they so rarely do.
Right now, Buck does not feel like he knows Eddie. Or– well. He does. Obviously. Eddie being happier hasn’t changed him on a fundamental level, exactly. Plus, they live together, so it’s not easy to avoid him. Not that Buck would avoid him. But up until today, Eddie’s seemed rather keen on avoiding Buck.
It was subtle at first, a part of The Change. But things look different after a landslide of changes, especially when those changes are unexpectedly good. Still, the evidence piled up: Eddie waving off a beer to go to bed an hour earlier than he used to, Eddie going grocery shopping without Buck, Eddie Ubering to the Wilsons for dinner when 1) Buck could drive him and pick him up, and 2) Buck would have loved to have dinner with the Wilsons too.
Buck knows he’s a chronic overthinker. He’s pretty certain he’s got ADHD (what with the way he’s had a million jobs and cannot for the life of him regulate his emotions and impulsively jumps into… less than ideal situations), so he’s giving himself time to process before he reacts.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t think he’s wrong about Eddie avoiding him.
Which is why Buck was so confused when Eddie suggested they go camping.
He’d nudged Buck’s shoulder on the couch at the firehouse last week, looking at him with this Mona Lisa smile, and asked if Buck was up for it. Two nights in the wilderness, just the two of them.
Obviously, Buck said yes. Who wouldn’t want to spend a relaxing 96 off sleeping under the stars? He’s a little overzealous with the amount of powdered hot chocolate he packs, and he crams a little more turkey than necessary onto their sandwiches, but Eddie doesn’t mind once they get there.
They had pulled out of Eddie’s driveway a little after seven in the morning, and, incredibly, there had been minimal traffic.
So, here they are, huddled around a tiny fire, a bucket of water standing firmly planted in the ground beside it. The night sky twinkles at them, and Buck keeps meaning to look up at it, but his eyes get stuck on Eddie. Eddie’s got great hands, is the thing, and he’s wielding a marshmallow stick. It’s hard not to watch.
“Still think there are aliens out there?” Eddie asks, snagging his beer off the ground. Buck’s eyes get stuck on Eddie’s mouth, the place the rim of the bottle kisses Eddie’s lips, before he drags his gaze up to his eyes.
Eddie quirks an eyebrow.
“Duh,” Buck says.
Eddie laughs.
“Stop laughing, man,” Buck says, but he’s chuckling too. He knocks their shoulders together, and Eddie sways dramatically until Buck yanks him back by his sleeve. “Of course, there are aliens. There– there are so many galaxies, Eddie. Like– trillions! The Milky Way isn’t even that big, you know? There’s no way there’s no life out there.”
Shaking his head at him fondly, Eddie offers Buck his beer. Buck takes it, taking a big swallow before passing it back.
“So, you think there are… humanoid creatures out there, building space ships?”
“Well, I mean.” Buck shrugs. “Maybe. We don’t know. But I don’t think so. It’d be, like, bacteria, right? Any life we found. But– maybe, super far away, there are… humanesque–”
“Humanesque?”
“–creatures who also have a consciousness. Creatures who think, like we do.”
Huffing a laugh, Eddie rests the beer on Buck’s knee, keeping his hand around the bottle. The almost-touch burns.
“And they’re just out there?” Eddie asks, voice quieter now. He’s still smiling.
Eddie does that, sometimes. Asks another question – a pointless question – when the conversation’s all but over. Buck suspects, when he’s feeling brave, that Eddie does it just to keep Buck talking. Like maybe he enjoys it, when Buck talks.
Swallowing, Buck nods, careful to keep his eyes on the sky. “Maybe.”
It’s quiet, for a moment, and then Eddie knocks the beer bottle into Buck’s knee gently. “Tired, bud?”
“Mmh.” Buck smiles sheepishly at Eddie. It can’t be that late, but he’s beat. That’s what one gets for setting off on a camping trip right after a long shift, he supposes.
“I’ll make sure the tent’s bolted down,” Eddie says, making one of his Dad Noises (as Chris calls them) as he stands.
“Uh, it is,” Buck insists to Eddie’s retreating form, who looks over his shoulder to raise an eyebrow at him.
Buck lets Eddie check the tent, making sure Eddie’s got a flashlight before pouring the water bucket over the fire. It sizzles and spits at him, and Eddie snickers when Buck shushes it.
Before long, they’ve zipped the tent up and turned their flashlights off. They both send a goodnight text to Chris, who responds with: don’t get eaten lol.
Neither of them close their sleeping bags, and instead spread them out to make their thin mattresses a little softer. Eddie strips down to his underwear, so Buck follows suit. They both keep their shirts on.
Tomorrow, Buck tells himself. Tomorrow I’ll ask Eddie what’s been going on with him.
They’re asleep within minutes.
When Buck wakes, groggy and disoriented, he’s not sure where he is. It’s still dark – pitch black, in fact – and it’s not until he tries to move that he realises three things simultaneously.
- He’s in a tent, because he’s camping with Eddie.
- He didn’t wake himself up.
- Eddie has somehow slung his leg over Buck, and his hips are moving in tiny, damning circles against the side of Buck’s thigh.
Heart pounding, Buck’s suddenly wide awake. Eddie’s hard, and he’s– he must be asleep, right?
Buck turns his head to check and finds that, yes, Eddie’s eyes are in fact closed.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Buck tries to will away the sudden flood of warmth in the pit of his belly. He’s not stupid, is the thing. He’s known he’s attracted to Eddie since he first realised he was allowed to be attracted to men. It just– it wasn’t applicable to Eddie. To his best friend. Sure, he could check him out, but it wasn’t real.
Now, it feels very real. Buck’s dick is doing its damndest to salute him, twitching and twitching as Buck’s breathing grows heavy. Eddie’s hand twists into the fabric of Buck’s shirt, and he jolts, suddenly, before sucking in a breath.
Stomach twisting, Buck turns his head, chancing another glance at Eddie.
Eddie, who stares right back at him, eyes wide and dark.
Buck braces for it, for Eddie to yank himself away and apologise. He goes so far as to prepare what to say when he does– it’s fine, dude. Happens, right?
Only, Eddie doesn’t reel back.
No, instead he untangles his hand from Buck’s t-shirt and spreads his fingers, pressing his palm over Buck’s thundering heart.
Buck doesn’t move.
Sliding his hand away from Buck’s chest, Eddie finds Buck’s waist. And then, unmistakably, he pulls.
Helpless to deny him anything, Buck lets him move him. Eddie pulls until Buck’s on top of Eddie, catching himself with his hands on either side of Eddie’s head. He’s between his legs, staring down at him.
This– Buck has to be dreaming. He’s dreaming, right?
But then Eddie’s legs part further, granting him access, and Buck wants to let himself fall onto him, wants to press his chest to Eddie’s. But he has to be sure about this.
Slowly, giving Buck ample time to pull away, Eddie tugs him down by the waist. When their groins connect, Eddie’s breath stutters.
Okay. Okay, this is happening.
“Move,” Eddie breathes, and Buck’s done for.
Hesitantly, he rolls his hips once. Eddie’s eyes remain wide, mouth parted. Buck does it again, pausing to gauge Eddie’s reaction, ignoring the way he’s filling out his underwear, blood rushing south.
Letting go of Buck’s waist, Eddie brings his hand to his neck. He draws Buck closer, until their foreheads touch. And then, smooth and slow, Eddie raises his legs to press his heels to Buck’s thighs, urging him on.
Biting his lip, Buck complies. Just this – sharing each other’s air, pressed as close to each other as they can be – is so good. Buck finds a rhythm quickly enough, his cock fully hard now, torso pinning Eddie down.
He’s good at this. Buck knows how to fuck, knows how to make it good. He knows where to kiss, where to touch, how to rotate his hips, when to speed up and when to slow down. He knows how to make someone tremble, moan, gasp, cry.
But, right now, he feels like it’s his first time touching someone else.
He doesn’t know where the lines are. Doesn’t know what he’s allowed to do. He’s let go of the reins entirely, letting Eddie steer the ship. This is about Eddie. Buck wants to see him come so badly his own cock aches with it.
It’s– it’s unfair, how hot Eddie is like this. Even in the dark, Buck can tell he’s flushing. His breaths tremble out of him, like he’s being careful not to make noise. Buck wonders if it’s a habit or something he does consciously.
Is this what Eddie’s like when he fucks someone? Quietly in charge, but otherwise pliable? Does he grab their hips and watch them fuck themselves on his cock, eyes glassy, mouth pink and open?
Or does he flip them over, thumb on their clit as he presses inside? Does he lick into their mouths? Does he taste himself there? Does he like it?
Buck grunts, picturing it, and feels too good to regret it– it’s an undeniably manly sound, but Eddie’s the one who instigated this. He’s the one who wanted to let off some steam, and he picked Buck to do it with. Buck can’t help the fact that he’s a man.
They’re panting into each other’s mouths, their bottom lips just barely touching, but neither of them close the gap. It would cross a line, Buck thinks. This, as close as they are, is still okay. They’re wearing clothes, and they’re not speaking, so it’s still– it’s not serious. They can move past this.
Eddie groans, then, and Buck has to bury his face in Eddie’s neck to stop himself from kissing him. He rolls his hips a little faster, eyes fluttering at the way Eddie’s breathing hitches, before he thrusts sharply, once. It’s almost like he’s fucking him, and Eddie digs his heels into Buck’s thighs, exhaling sharply as if to say again. So Buck does, thrusting once more with a little more power, panting into the crook of Eddie’s neck, before he resumes rolling his hips.
Eddie’s so hard against him, and Buck doesn’t know if the stickiness at the head of his dick is Eddie’s or Buck’s. Arousal pools in his belly, and he can’t help but whimper.
A hand lands on his neck, slipping into his hair before tugging. With half-lidded eyes, Buck raises his head, and Eddie tips his forehead against his own, panting into his mouth.
Eddie’s so quiet like this, except for the way his breathing hitches every time Buck bears down. Buck wants to ask him if he’s close, if he feels good, if Buck can hold him after this. He says nothing.
Instead, Buck braces himself with his forearm beside Eddie’s head, grabbing Eddie’s waist with his free hand. He digs his fingers in– not too hard, just to feel him. Eddie’s stomach tenses, jaw dropping further as his eyes go hazy.
Buck doesn’t have to be a genius to know Eddie’s about to come.
With renewed vigour, Buck rolls his hips– this time slow and dirty, a grind more than anything. He slows his breathing, flickering his eyes between Eddie’s with a small nod until Eddie copies him. It’ll feel better if you’re breathing evenly, Buck wants to say. Instead, he picks up the pace again.
“Ah–” Eddie’s head falls back, gasping. Buck dips forward to press his mouth to Eddie’s neck, biting him once before pulling back, lips dragging before his forehead finds Eddie’s shoulder.
He grinds down, heat building and building until–
Fuck, he’s gonna come.
He moans, loud and shameless, hips stuttering. Below him, Eddie seizes, legs drawing him in again and again, before he suddenly groans, long and low.
Buck feels it a moment later, the warm wetness – Eddie’s come – that he grinds into, moaning again before his own cock jerks. He exhales sharply before biting his lip, cutting the moan off as he floods his underwear, making the slide that much sweeter.
Breathing hard, Eddie stills beneath him. Buck’s hips twitch, once, twice, before he manually stills, too, panting into Eddie’s shoulder.
Fuck. Shit.
He just– they just–
Buck made Eddie come. In a fucking tent. In a forest.
Wordlessly, he rolls off of Eddie.
They lie next to each other in silence as their breathing slows. Buck listens to Eddie swallow, his throat clicking.
“Do we need–” Eddie starts, voice rough. “Should we talk about this?”
Buck deliberates. They should, definitely. Talking is– good. Communicating is key, and all that. But Buck knows how this goes. He knows what Eddie’s going to say. What they just did was… Well, it wasn’t straight. Which is okay! Buck is very bisexual, but Eddie–
Eddie probably isn’t straight. And that’s also okay.
His mind plays a film reel of things Eddie’s said and done. When he had a panic attack over – hypothetically! – having to marry Ana. The way he defends queer patients, like he’s got skin in the game, too. His relationship with his father.
Dating feels like a performance.
You wanna go for the title?
I could take you.
It’s in my will–
Exhaling very slowly, Buck shoves it all into a dark corner of his brain. This isn’t Buck’s realisation to have. It’s Eddie’s. If he even wants to have it. They’re supposed to be best friends, and whatever this is, whatever they just did, is a blip on the radar. They’re going to be okay because they have to be okay.
“Nah,” Buck says, in the end. “Nah, we’re– we’re good, right?”
Stomach swooping, he turns his head to look at Eddie. Eddie’s already looking at him, face unreadable.
God, he’s beautiful. If he could, Buck would spend all day looking at him, tracing the shape of his nose, the scar on his bottom lip, the jut of his chin. He wants to be closer, wants their eyelashes to touch, wants to fall into Eddie’s eyes and live there, in the fathomless depth of them.
“We’re good,” Eddie echoes. He stares at Buck for a long moment, and Buck stares back, heart pounding.
And then Eddie pushes himself up to his feet before crouching, rooting through his backpack. He climbs out of the tent without saying anything, zipping it back up behind him.
Buck shuts his eyes and lays very still. Suddenly, the world feels a whole lot heavier. Camping might suck, actually.
He’s changed and back in his sleeping bag before Eddie returns, mumbling, “Goodnight,” before he loses his nerve.
Eddie shoves his soiled underwear into his backpack before he climbs into his own sleeping bag, and only then, very softly, does he say, “Night, Buck.”
Despite the anxious way his stomach’s turning, Buck sleeps like a baby.
A week later, Buck’s feeling pretty okay about the whole thing. Thing being dry-humping his best friend in a tent on the outskirts of civilization. It happens! Who cares?
Buck cares. Buck cares deeply.
The day after, neither of them had mentioned it. They went hiking, and climbed a few sturdy trees, and then they slept in the tent again and– nothing happened. So it must have been a fluke. A once-off.
The worst of it is, Eddie keeps looking at him. He’s giving him looks, plural, like he’s gearing up to say something. Buck’s not sure whether to be patient or run for the hills. He doesn’t know if what Eddie has to say is anything he wants to hear. He has to know Buck’s okay with pretending nothing happened, right? He’s proven that; he hasn’t brought it up once.
“Did you pack the sunscreen?” Eddie asks, sitting back down at the kitchen table, refilled coffee cup in hand.
Buck makes a face at him. “Who do you take me for?”
“Someone who burns worse than me and Chris,” Eddie says, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Har har.”
“Dad!” Chris yells from the other room.
“Yeah, bud?” Eddie yells back, head turning toward the doorway.
“I mean– Buck!” Chris yells.
And– oh.
Face turning red, Buck clears his throat as he scrambles out of his seat, making his way down the hallway without looking back at Eddie.
He knocks gently on Chris’ door before pushing it open. “Chris?”
Chris looks up from his computer. “Can I bring my Switch?”
Buck raises his eyebrows. “To the beach? I don’t know, buddy. Might get a little dicey with all the sand, you know?”
Chris sighs, so similar to Eddie that Buck’s heart clenches. “Buuuuck.”
Pursing his lips, Buck deflates. “Okay. How about, if you bring the Switch, you also bring a book?”
Chris pretends to mull it over, before nodding decisively. “Deal.”
Buck grins. “Awesome. Wheels up in ten, Superman.”
Once in the car, Buck sinks into the seat with a smile. It’s shaping up to be another sunny day in Los Angeles, and already, cars are piling up in what’s shaping up to be a hell of a traffic jam. He’s excited to get to the ocean– he’s always enjoyed a good beach day. In moderation, of course. At least after the whole tsunami thing.
Eddie makes a questioning noise beside him, rifling through the backpack. It’s the backpack, the same one he brought with him on the camping trip. Buck tries not to have any feelings about that.
“Turkey sandwiches? You got some sorta problem with regular ham?”
Scoffing, Buck says, “Uh, yeah, Eddie, I do.”
Eddie’s quiet for a second. “Can I ask why?”
“Pigs are some of the smartest animals in the world, man. They can solve problems, and they show empathy. It’s like– like eating a dog, or a toddler. Do you want to eat a toddler, Eddie?”
Next to him, Eddie rolls his eyes. He unplugs the aux before replugging it, to no avail. The stereo’s been on the fritz for months now, but Buck hasn’t had the time to get it fixed. “Obviously not, Buck.”
“Yeah, Buck,” Chris echoes from the backseat.
“Exactly,” Buck says, with feeling. “So why would we eat pigs? Did you know they sing to their babies, Eddie? They sing to their babies to calm them down, like humans do. That’s– come on, man. I don’t want to eat pigs.”
“Heard, loud and clear,” Eddie says. “No more eating pigs.”
“No more eating pigs,” says Chris. “Can you put on Paramore?”
Plugging the aux back in, Eddie shares a quick smile with Buck. “Sure, mijo.”
He hands Chris his phone to queue up the right songs, and when he gets it back, Eddie’s frowning.
“You let Chris bring his Switch?”
Buck blinks. Realises, not for the first time, that he’s co-parenting an entire child with his best friend. He lets the absurdity pass before replying.
“Yeah.”
Next to him in the passenger seat, Eddie clicks his tongue. “We said we were cutting down his time on the Switch.”
Buck frowns. “Yeah, but– I mean, he’s not gonna use it once we’re there. He needed something to pass the time in the car. Right, buddy?”
He casts a look at Chris in the rearview mirror, who grunts in acknowledgement.
“Right.” Eddie draws the word out.
“He packed his book on, um. Amphibians, too. Otherlands, I think it’s called.”
“You think he’s gonna read a book when he’s got his Switch?”
Buck flickers his eyes to Eddie quickly before turning them back onto the road. “Yeah, I do.”
Eddie hums again. “Okay. You can quiz him when we’re back, then.”
“Sure,” Buck agrees.
It’s not long before they’re all, vaguely, humming along to Still Into You.
The beach is, thankfully, not too busy. Perks of being an early riser and, somehow, shepherding a family into a car at eight in the morning.
They get set up not too far from the water, unrolling their towels and laying them out next to each other. Buck procures the juice he had tucked away in his beach bag, and Eddie gives him an alarmingly vulnerable smile when he spots it.
Eddie gets the parasol Buck bought on a whim a year ago situated, and then sprints straight into the ocean, yelping when he’s fully submerged.
“Cold!” he yells.
“Coward!” Buck yells back.
“Lame,” Chris decides.
Buck snickers, keeping an eye on Eddie, who’s standing up and shaking himself like a dog.
“You know, Denny might be here later. Hen and Karen were thinking of joining us around lunchtime.”
Chris perks up at that. “Sick.”
Buck grins. “Yeah, totally.”
Buck also ends up taking a dip, mostly to avoid the weird looks shot his way by the few people there when Eddie starts hollering from the water.
Upon reaching the waves, of course, Eddie full-body tackles him. Buck doesn’t quite get submerged (which he thinks Eddie planned– he knows Buck can be weird about the ocean), but he does splutter nonetheless.
“Okay, that’s how we’re doing this?” he challenges, and Eddie grins, hand gripping Buck’s bicep.
“That’s how we’re doing this.”
Buck’s tackle is a lot less graceful.
When Chris joins them, they take turns naming the boats further out on the waves (“That’s Betty.” “Looks more like a Lady Riptide to me.” “That’s such a stupid name, oh my God.”) before eventually ambling back to their towels. Eddie collapses gracefully onto his own towel, slipping on a pair of sunglasses. His tan skin glistens beneath the sun, and Buck is very, very brave about it, only sparing a quick glance at Eddie’s thighs, where his swimming trunks have bunched up high.
Around 12, the three of them split the turkey sandwiches. Eddie drinks the juice straight out of the carton, and Chris makes a face so disgusted that Buck cackles. Eddie looks delighted at having evoked such a reaction, and says, nonsensically, with a mouth full of juice, “I’m choosing the juice.”
The Wilsons show up not long thereafter, which means Chris, Denny and Mara get swept up in making and judging the best sandcastles. Buck watches them, unable to wipe the smile from his face. Eddie isn’t faring much better.
When Hen and Karen decide to take a dip, Eddie slips his sunglasses into his hair. As usual, it kind of takes Buck’s breath away.
“Hey,” Eddie says, voice soft. “How, um. How would you feel about Chris calling you Dad?”
Buck sucks in a breath, heart stuttering. “I– I mean, he didn’t mean to, before. He just– he misspoke, it’s–”
“Buck.” Eddie’s eyes bore into him, lips curving into a smile. “How would you feel if he meant it?”
God, what a question. There’s not much Buck wouldn’t do to make Chris smile, to keep him comfortable and happy. The way he’s loved Chris has never been private. He’s loved him for so long, too long to keep it under wraps. But he isn’t his. He isn’t Buck’s son. He’s tried not to refer to Chris that way, as his, even in his own head. It felt like overstepping, like claiming more than was offered. And– just being in Christopher’s life, having the privilege of watching him grow up and maybe even having a small hand in raising him– that’s always been more than enough.
But this…
“Good,” Buck chokes out, blinking against the burn in his eyes. “Good, Eddie. Of– of course I’d feel good.”
“Good,” Eddie echoes, his smile softening into something quietly pleased. “I may have some intel.”
Buck swipes subtly at his eyes, peering at Eddie curiously. “Intel?”
Pushing himself up, Eddie leans a little closer to Buck. He smells like– like his date-night cologne. Holy shit.
“A little birdy may have asked me to ask you if it was okay. If he started calling you Dad, I mean.”
“Oh.” Buck’s heart might gallop right out of his chest. He’s never felt this– light before. This full of love. “Well, um. Tell– tell the little birdy I’d be honoured. Please.”
In the Los Angeles sun, Eddie’s eyes glitter. “I will.”
Buck knew it wasn’t sustainable from the moment Eddie returned to LA with Chris in tow. Sleeping on the couch, that is. It’s a really nice couch, to be fair, it’s just– a little worn. A few springs are… loose, or just a little weird, which makes sleeping on it uncomfortable. And Buck isn’t exactly a small man, either. He’s rolled right off the couch and onto the floor a total of five times since the Diaz boys returned (which is something Eddie will never, ever find out about).
But Buck doesn’t want it to be unsustainable. If it is, he’ll have to move out. Officially. He’s been looking, on and off, at apartments and houses, but the market is really bad. It’s abysmal, really. As is his credit score. All of which Eddie tells him when Buck finally, reluctantly, brings up the couch situation.
“So what am I supposed to do?” Buck whines, head in his hands, where he’s perched on the couch, the picture of ennui.
“We’ll share,” Eddie says, like it’s nothing. He pokes Buck’s arm. “C’mon, it’ll be like quarantine. Same bed, too, technically.”
That was true. Buck had moved his own bed into Eddie’s house while he house-sat for him. Eddie hadn’t even entertained the idea of bringing his own bed back from Texas– not after the bed frame sustained a crack in the initial move. It just wasn’t worth it.
And when Buck finally does move out, he can just buy a new bed. It really isn’t a big deal. Plus, Eddie would never buy himself a good, ergonomic mattress. He’d sleep on a rock if he had it his way. It had been an enormous task, convincing him to take the bed upon returning to LA. There had been a lot of threats, manhandling, and one memorable moment when Eddie had said, “Back off, motherfucker.”
Buck did not, in fact, back off. So Eddie got the bed.
He hadn’t expected things to end up like… this, though.
“You really wanna share the bed with me?” Buck asks, sitting up. “It’s a little–” domestic, he wants to say.
“Juvenile?” Eddie huffs a laugh. “Yeah, maybe. But this–” he pats the couch, “-isn’t good for your back, man. Or your leg.”
“My leg’s fine,” Buck says automatically.
Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “You were limping yesterday.”
“Was not.”
“Was too.”
“You’re seeing things.”
Eddie scoffs. “Buck.”
Buck bristles. “Eddie.”
Eddie gives him a long, searching look. “We’re sharing the bed. Maybe not forever, okay? But for a while. And I’m taking a look at your leg.”
“Now?” Buck asks weakly.
“Now,” Eddie confirms.
As is routine, the two of them brush their teeth side by side. Eddie doesn’t blink when Buck sleepily pulls his dick out to piss, snorting a laugh when Buck yawns wide enough to crack his jaw.
He shoots him a look, and Eddie holds his hands up, toothbrush in mouth. “Watch the stream, dude.”
Buck glares, but obliges.
While Eddie checks on Chris one final time – who is sound asleep – Buck slips into his sleep-shorts. He throws his t-shirt into the hamper, but by then he’s already sitting on the bed, and he cannot for the life of him gather the strength to grab a new one.
Closing the door softly behind him, Eddie shoots him a little smile. Buck loves this– loves that Eddie’s so much happier. That he’s happy enough to smile at Buck like this, sleepy and just for him.
Buck smiles back and– oh. Oh, he might love him. He might be in love with him. And now he’s going to be sleeping next to him.
A wave of nausea rolls over him, but it recedes as quickly as it came. He’s not… he’s not panicking.
He’s in love with Eddie, and he’s not panicking.
There are plenty of reasons to panic, Buck knows. For one, he is intimately familiar with what Eddie looks like when he comes. That’s a pretty big one. For two, Eddie is his best friend, who he is currently living with and sort-of-maybe raising a kid with. For three, he can never tell Eddie.
But that’s sort of it, right? Eddie knows Buck. Honestly, chances are he figured out Buck’s in love with him before Buck did. And if he doesn’t know, what good would telling him do?
Consciously, Buck hasn’t given their camping trip much thought. Eddie was– enthusiastic that night, to say the least. But that doesn’t have to mean he’s into men. And if he is, he might not be into Buck. But if he is into men and into Buck specifically, that is, once again, not Buck’s ball game. That’s Eddie’s prerogative. Eddie’s feelings or not-feelings are his to deal with.
“Stretch your leg out for me, bud,” Eddie says, getting down on his knees right there in front of Buck, bracing himself on the mattress.
Buck does, wincing. His knee twinges, the usual aches in his calf making his muscles throb.
Eyebrows furrowing, Eddie smooths his hands over Buck’s skin. He presses gently into the tight muscles before applying enough pressure to make Buck jerk in his grasp.
“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs.
“It’s okay.” Buck breathes through the pain. “I know it’s necessary.”
Eddie grunts, using his thumbs to massage in a way Buck knows he picked up from Christopher’s PT. “Still,” he says. “Wish it didn’t hurt you.”
Eddie looks pained as he says it, and Buck has the insane urge to tell him, “I wish it didn’t hurt you.”
He doesn’t, of course. He bites his lip instead, and tilts his head back, mentally putting together a dinner menu for the coming week.
His head snaps back down when he feels it, though. Eddie, pressing his mouth to the side of Buck’s knee. The touch is so gentle, so reverent, that Buck’s eyes burn with it. Eddie does it again, lips on the ugly scar beside his kneecap. He pulls away, before kissing higher up, and up, on Buck’s inner thigh.
Buck watches him with his heart in his throat, feeling for all the world like he’s being worshipped. Like he’s witnessing something holy, something private.
Finally, Eddie looks up at him, eyes dark and searching. Hand trembling, Buck reaches out to cup Eddie’s cheek. Eddie’s mouth twitches like he’d been hoping he would do that.
Quietly, Eddie pushes himself up, knee braced on the mattress. Swallowing thickly, Buck lifts himself higher up on the bed, letting Eddie crawl after him until they’ve twisted and moved enough for Buck’s head to find the pillow.
Legs on either side of Buck’s, Eddie ducks down to nose at Buck’s neck. Buck tilts his head back, shivering under Eddie’s direct attention.
He laves his tongue over Buck’s neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin. Buck’s heart stutters, kicking into overdrive, and Eddie smiles into his neck like he can feel it.
And then Eddie’s sitting up, eyes roving over Buck’s naked chest. It feels exposing in a way it never has before, vulnerable in an unfamiliar - but addicting - way. Eddie lays his hand over Buck’s heart as if to confirm it’s beating, and Buck can do nothing but stare up at him, at his best friend. At the man he loves.
Eddie pulls back then and, very slowly, he tugs his own underwear down. Buck sucks in a harsh breath, eyes flying to Eddie’s half-hard dick, to the hair between his legs, to his strong thighs. God, he’s beautiful. He wants to tell him, but he bites his tongue.
He makes a small noise of appreciation instead, a rumble deep in his chest. Eddie ducks his head when he does, cheeks going pink as his dick twitches, and oh. Buck is in over his head.
When Eddie slips his fingers into Buck’s waistband, Buck shudders. He nods hastily, eager to feel Eddie naked and wanting against him.
He knows he’s dripping, leaking obscenely into his underwear, so he looks away even as he lifts his hips to help Eddie drag them down. He keeps his gaze locked on Eddie’s cock, even as his own is freed. Watches raptly as Eddie fills out, the tip glistening as he looks at Buck.
It’s kind of embarrassing, how into Eddie he is. One would think he would’ve noticed earlier, given the years their friendship has under its belt.
With the subtle strength in Eddie’s arms – Buck wants to bite them – Eddie lowers himself once more, ass just barely grazing the tip of Buck’s dick. He reaches back, and before Buck can so much as suck in a breath, he’s wrapped his fingers around him.
Eddie’s pupils blow wide when Buck’s body twitches, breath shuddering out of him. He gives Buck a slow stroke, before reaching for Buck’s arm with his free hand, moving it to his ass.
Biting back a groan, Buck squeezes Eddie’s ass (it’s such a good fucking ass, like, holy shit), and wonders what he did to deserve this. Not even in his wildest fantasies has he ended up like this, at Eddie’s mercy, his spit still drying on his neck.
Slowly, Eddie moves Buck’s hand until his fingertips graze Eddie’s hole.
Buck swallows hard. He lets his hand slip further, applying a small amount of pressure. Eddie makes a small noise that goes straight to Buck’s dick.
Buck breaks a rule– he speaks. If he’s going to have sex with Eddie, they need to be able to talk. He can’t risk hurting him.
“Eddie,” Buck breathes, eyes flickering between Eddie’s. He can’t fuck Eddie. He knows it would feel too much like love. Breathing quickening, he blurts, “Can I suck your dick?”
A flicker of surprise passes over Eddie’s face before he tightens his fist around Buck’s cock, drawing a whimper out of him. “If I can return the favour.”
Oh, fuck.
“Not a favour,” Buck manages, eyes on Eddie’s mouth. “I– I like it. Making y– making people feel good.”
Leaning in close enough for his mouth to be a mere inch from Buck’s, Eddie breathes, “You wanna make me feel good?”
Arousal pulsing through him, Buck nods, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah.”
They should talk more. Discuss this. This isn’t just fucking, Buck wants to tell him. If we do this, there’s no going back. Not for me.
But– he gets to have this. He gets to watch Eddie’s face twist in pleasure instead of pain, and isn’t that something of a miracle? How could he say no?
Eddie nods, then. He tips himself to the side, landing gracefully beside Buck. He’s half-propped up on his elbows, chest rising and falling like he’s breathing manually.
Not giving himself a moment to think, Buck rolls over and sits beside him, on his knees.
In the low light, Eddie’s gaze is firmly planted on Buck. He’s waiting for him to make a move, he knows.
It’s not often that Buck begrudges the fact that he’s so big, but right now, he wishes he were a little smaller. His hand feels massive when it finds Eddie’s knee. He leans down to press a gentle kiss there, the same way Eddie had.
Slowly, cataloguing his movements, Buck squeezes Eddie’s thigh, silently asking permission. Eddie lets his legs fall open, and Buck’s mouth waters.
Eddie’s looking at him like this, curious and hungry, naked, with his legs parted.
Heart pounding, Buck manoeuvres himself between his legs, and then he just– looks. He doesn’t want this to be over quickly, doesn’t want it to be furtive and unfocused– a means to an end. He wants to savour this, savour the moment and the way Eddie’s warm skin feels beneath his own.
Eddie’s dick, flushed and pink, twitches against his stomach. He’s wet at the tip, and Buck’s eyes catch on it, before trailing down to the trimmed hair between his legs, to his balls and unmarred, vulnerable skin.
And he’s hard. For Buck. Waiting for him to do something about it.
What he really wants to do is press his face to Eddie’s dick. He wants to breathe him in, rub his lips against him, get himself wet with Eddie’s pre. His own cock pulses at the thought, but– now isn’t the time.
Instead, he leans down, breath catching when Eddie makes a small noise. He flickers his eyes up, and Eddie nods, almost desperately. Ghosting his breath over his dick, Buck can’t help but smirk a little. This part, he knows how to do.
He inhales through his nose when he takes Eddie into his mouth, mouth watering at the silky feel of him. He sinks as far down as he can, curling his tongue around him as his eyes flutter shut.
He takes it all in as he bobs his head: the weight of Eddie on his tongue. The taste of him, musky and clean, and so uniquely Eddie. He wants to pull off of him just to mark him up, to bite into the soft flesh of his inner thigh, leave something behind to remind Eddie that he was here. That he’s been close enough to mark him somewhere no one else gets to see or touch.
Above him, Eddie’s panting shallowly as his hands find Buck’s curls. He doesn’t press him down, doesn’t tug him off– he simply keeps his hands there, like he needed an anchor. That more than anything makes Buck’s dick ache.
Buck wraps a hand around what he can’t fit in his mouth – Eddie’s dick isn’t exactly small – and finds a rhythm. He traces the vein up to Eddie’s head, which earns him a cut-off gasp.
When Buck flutters his eyes back open to look at him, Eddie’s mouth is parted, eyes wide and– surprised, almost. Like he can’t believe how good it feels. Buck’s chest swells with pride as he forces his jaw wider, swallowing around Eddie as his nose brushes his pubic hair.
“Jesus, Buck–” Eddie cuts himself off, hands tightening in Buck’s hair. Buck groans around him, steadfastly keeping his eyes on his face.
Maybe it’s bad etiquette, to stare lovingly and lustfully at one’s friend while sucking him off. Buck doesn’t really care.
When Eddie’s breathing quickens, pre spurting onto Buck’s tongue, Buck redoubles his efforts. He tightens his hand and sucks, breath stuttering out of him when Eddie’s thighs come together, wrapping around his head.
“Buck,” Eddie breathes, chest heaving. His head falls back, cock flexing, and Buck ducks down and swallows again.
It’s all it takes to send him over the edge. Eddie makes a wounded noise, thighs keeping Buck in place as his cock kicks, come flooding Buck’s mouth a moment later. Buck swallows and swallows, so blissed out it kind of feels like he’s the one who just came.
It takes a long moment for Eddie to tug him off. Honestly, Buck would have been happy to stay there, with Eddie’s softening dick in his mouth. But Eddie tugs him off, pushing him until he’s rolled Buck over. Eddie lands between Buck’s legs, wet dick just shy of kissing Buck’s.
“My turn,” he says, and Buck flushes from head to toe.
“You don’t have to,” he tries, but Eddie looks almost frenzied as he shakes his head.
“I want to,” he promises, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Buck’s jaw.
“Yeah,” Buck says tightly. “Yeah, o-okay, Eds. whatever you want.”
Eddie wastes no time.
Lowering himself between Buck’s legs, he wraps a hand around Buck’s dick. And then he stares at it.
“Eddie.” Buck tries not to whine, but he’s so hard it hurts. He could make himself come in thirty seconds flat, he’s pretty sure. “You don’t have to, I can– I can take care of it.”
“No,” Eddie says, eyes flickering back up to Buck’s. “I want to. I’m just working on a strategy.”
Buck can’t help but laugh at that, at the absurdity of Eddie holding his dick while talking about strategizing.
“Strategy?” he asks, grinning. “You don’t– honestly, Eddie, you could breathe on me and I’d probably come.”
Flushing, Eddie’s hand tightens around Buck. “You’re that pent up, huh?”
“No,” Buck says, before he can think better of it. “Just– just you.”
Eddie’s mouth falls open. But he doesn’t look put off– no, if anything, he looks fucking proud.
He lowers himself down, mouth eye-level with Buck’s dick, which kicks embarrassingly. And then he feeds Buck’s dick into his mouth. He doesn’t suck, instead keeping his mouth open and loose– a hot, wet place for Buck’s cock to twitch and leak into.
And then he does suck, and Buck’s eyes slam shut. He’s vibrating, trying to keep himself still under Eddie’s ministrations. Eddie curves his tongue around his cock, the same way Buck did to Eddie, and sucks again, sinking a little lower. It’s a little humiliating, how fast this is going to be over.
Herculean task it may be, but Buck manages to raise his head again to look at Eddie.
Holy shit. This is happening, Eddie’s sucking his dick.
And Eddie looks fucking incredible like this: lips wrapped around Buck, cock buried in his mouth, eyes heavy and dark. His cheeks are pink, his hair askew, and he pulls off of Buck to gasp, using his hand to jerk him off.
“Eddie–” Buck’s stomach flexes, tensing when Eddie’s other hand grips his thigh.
“You’re big everywhere,” Eddie says, voice gravely.
Buck huffs a pained laugh, so turned on it hurts.
Ducking back down, Eddie sinks down quicker now, jaw widening to accommodate the stretch.
Buck’s breathing quickens, coming too fast now as his cock hardens further, and–
“Not gonna last,” he gasps.
Eddie doesn’t let up.
Slipping his hands into Eddie’s hair, Buck gives him a gentle tug. “Eddie, I’m– I’m gonna come, seriously.”
Humming around him, Eddie jerks Buck’s cock in time with his mouth, up and down, a hint of teeth sending a zing of pleasure shooting up his spine.
Moaning, Buck’s back arches. “Eddie. Eddie, I mean it–”
It’s too much. The slick, wet sounds of Eddie sucking him off, his warm hands, his fluttering eyelids.
“Eddie,” Buck tries again, heat pooling so rapidly in his belly he thinks he might faint. “Eddie. Dude.”
That, finally, does the trick. Eddie pulls off with his eyebrows in his hairline.
“Dude?” he rasps.
“Sorry,” Buck gasps, cock twitching in Eddie’s still hand. “I– I’m gonna come, just. Just, it’s not– you don’t want that in your mouth.”
Eddie looks… amused, of all things. Relaxed. Wetting his lips, he says, “Why not?”
“Uh.” Buck blinks. “It’s– do you?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, unimpressed. “Dude.”
“I–” Buck seizes when Eddie falls right back down on his cock, the wet heat of his mouth engulfing him again. “S-sorry,” he grits out. “Baby, I’m– I’m so close, you’re gonna make me come, you’re–”
Eddie groans around him, eyes squeezing shut as he presses himself down, down, down, taking Buck deep.
“Oh, fuck–” Buck gasps– whining as his cock jerks. His orgasm hits him like a bolt of lightning, pleasure shooting through him as he feels himself spilling into Eddie’s throat. His hips twitch of their own accord, grinding shallowly into Eddie’s mouth, and the sound is so wet and good that Buck arches his back, mouth falling open around a moan. His come is in Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie– he’s swallowing, holy fuck.
Eddie chokes around him, pulling back to gasp, even as he swallows convulsively. His hand doesn’t stop moving, wringing every drop of pleasure out of him.
“S-shit.” Panting, Buck stills his hips, hands scrabbling to find Eddie’s arms. He manages to haul him up, remembers himself a moment before trying to capture his mouth in a kiss, and instead lets Eddie collapse on top of him.
Chuckling into Buck’s neck, Eddie raises a hand. Barking a surprised laugh, Buck gives him a high five. Eddie tangles their fingers together after, holding his hand as he lowers it to the bed.
At some point, Eddie manages to free the duvet from underneath them, pulling it over them.
Buck falls asleep before he can so much as think to ask Eddie what they’re doing.
It’s hard not to love barbecues at the Grant-Nash’s. The team tries to alternate, of course, so that Bobby and Athena aren’t the only ones hosting– but this time, Buck suggested they all go camping.
The team is mostly excited. With their track record, it’s a bit of a risk, but Buck knows it will be worth it.
Everyone drives separately, with Buck and Eddie being the last to pull out of their driveway. Pepa picked Chris up at 3 pm on the dot, and the two of them were going to spend the afternoon making churros. Buck is a little jealous.
It’s not an easy task keeping his mind from drifting to– well. Everything that’s happened between him and Eddie. Work provides enough distraction – perks of being a first responder – but at home, it’s a little more difficult– especially since Eddie hasn’t rescinded his offer to share the bed.
Nothing’s happened again, though. It’s been almost a week, and neither of them have brought it up. Buck doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s decided there’s no point in trying not to think about it. Eddie’s always on his mind anyway, and now he’s– he’s had his dick in his mouth. It makes it kind of hard not to think about. So when he catches himself staring, he doesn’t berate himself for it. He’s pretty sure anyone else in his position would be acting the same way.
Still, he wishes Eddie would grant him some clarity on the situation. It’s hypocritical to wish that, he knows, given that he’s the one who told Eddie they didn’t need to talk about it, after that first time. But Eddie’s kept up the looks – keeps looking over at him to find Eddie already staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face.
He’s hoping that this, camping with the team, might ease them back into normalcy. Or bolster Eddie enough to get him to bring it up.
An hour and a half after starting the short drive (thank you, traffic), they’re out of the city and approaching the Angeles National Forest’s campground.
“Okay,” Buck says, pulling into an empty spot. “So, I’ve got the map saved from last time. It should take us, like… an hour to hike. The rest should already be there.”
Unclipping his seat belt, Eddie nods. “Chim texted to say they got there in one piece.”
The first stretch goes pretty smoothly. They make their way up a pebbled trail, bringing them higher up, consulting the map on Buck’s phone. Neither of them say much, and Buck can’t tell if the silence is comfortable or not. This used to be easier, right? Hanging out together? Or maybe Buck’s reading into things. Eddie smiles every time he looks his way.
“So, uh.” Buck clears his throat, readjusting the backpack. “You think Bobby brought any lamb chops?”
Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “He said he would.”
“Right. Buck flickers his eyes away. “Well, let’s hope he did. I’m already hungry.”
Eddie hums.
“Did you know the ocean used to be green? A couple billion years ago?”
A flicker of recognition passes over Eddie’s face. “I remember you told Chris about that.”
“Yeah!” Buck confirms, secretly pleased Eddie remembered. “It was during the Archaean eon, because of all the iron in the water. Before it was oxidized. The ocean basically rusted, which is why it’s blue now.”
Eddie hums – again! – and they’re back to silence.
“Eddie,” Buck says.
“Buck.”
“Whatcha thinking about?”
“The ocean,” Eddie tells him, half-smiling. “What about you?”
Buck sighs. “Yeah. Same.” He looks up at the trees, trail and blue sky. “Scenery’s nice.”
“Sure is.”
Silence.
This time, it’s Eddie who breaks the silence.
“How much further is it?”
Buck glances at the map. “Um, like… a mile.”
“Maybe we should’ve driven.”
Buck raises his eyebrows, turning to look at Eddie. “On what road?”
Eddie shrugs. “We could have found one.”
“We would’ve ended up somewhere completely different.”
“So?”
“So,” Buck flaps his arms, exasperated. “Everyone’s waiting for us.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. “Are you mad at me?”
“No!” Buck is so confused. He’s not sure why he’s yelling. “Are you mad at me?”
“No?”
Okay, what the hell.
“Let’s just– keep going.”
Half an hour later, they make it to the campsite. The rest of the team greets them with cheers, and Buck grins, knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s. Just like that, the weird energy dissipates.
Maddie, Chim, Bobby, Hen, Karen, Eddie, and Ravi – all in the same place. It feels good to see them outside of work. It’s difficult to orchestrate, given that everyone (bar Ravi) has a kid or two to look after. Athena was kind enough to stay behind with the kids this time (though Buck suspects Athena's happy to avoid a night spent in the wilderness). It'll probably be the Buckley-Diaz household's turn next time.
They’ve still got around an hour before the sun sets, so Buck nudges Eddie and they get to setting their tent up a little further away from the other tents, closer to the view and away from the trees as per Eddie’s request.
By the time they’re done, the team’s assembled the makeshift grill, and Bobby’s got a few lamb chops on the grill next to mushrooms, peppers, and chicken kebabs.
“Smells good,” Buck sighs, accepting the beer Chim presses into his hand before passing it to Eddie. Chim passes Buck another one, which Buck cracks open immediately, taking a long pull.
“We were thinking we eat, and then we chill by the fire?” Chim says. “Then we can hike tomorrow morning before we head home.”
“Sounds good,” Eddie says, before ambling over to Hen, who waves him over.
Buck takes the opportunity to take in the site. They picked a nice spot, with plenty of foliage to provide an air of privacy. Straight ahead, just past the clearing, is the vast expanse of the city. It’s a beautiful view, and Buck feels a bolt of pride– he picked this city. He picked this team. He might be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.
Buck snaps a quick photo and sends it to Chris before pocketing his phone.
Before long, he’s dragged into an argument with Ravi about the best bar snacks (nacho plate, not peanuts, thank you very much. What if someone goes into anaphylactic shock?).
Buck doesn’t even realise the food’s done until Eddie’s handing him a plate already loaded with lamb chops and mushrooms. He’s even added a handful of chips, which makes Buck feel a little like a firecracker. He throws Eddie a bright smile.
By now, the sun’s setting beautifully over Los Angeles. It casts the horizon in an orange glow, making the city look almost like it’s engulfed in flame.
Buck flickers his eyes to Eddie, whose face is golden, eyes a lighter brown in the fading sunlight. His hair, a gentle swoop, falls gracefully over his face, and he pushes it back just as he catches Buck looking. He smiles at him, and Buck’s heart gallops.
He wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so bad he’s trembling with it, so Buck shoves an entire mushroom into his mouth and chews viciously.
“Has the sea ever been red?” Eddie asks, taking a bite of his chicken.
Buck looks up at him, overwhelmed again by his presence. He swallows it down and chuckles. “You know about the algae blooms, Eddie.”
Eddie makes a noise. “Yeah, but… has the whole ocean been red?”
Buck bites the inside of his cheek. “I don’t think so. Just, uh– just parts of it. Because of the algae.”
Eddie nods, taking another bite. “Makes sense. Hey, did Chris tell you about those stupid running robots?”
“What? No,” Buck says, already grinning, and they’re off.
Buck loves watching Eddie talk, especially when the topic at hand is Christopher. He gets impassioned the same way he does when talking about sports, or a dangerous rescue he’s about to pull off without a hitch. It’s no wonder everyone likes him, and still– Eddie chose Buck, the same way Buck chose Eddie. Or– well, maybe not exactly the same way. But they’re best friends. It’s mutual. Which is pretty cool.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Chim calls from the other side of the fire, holding up a stick (that he’s been poking the fire with for upwards of an hour. Though, Eddie built the fire, so Eddie should get to man it, Buck thinks.)
“You talking to us?” Eddie asks.
“Sure am,” Chim confirms. “Come on, we’re playing a game.”
Suspicious, Buck tilts his head. “What kind of game?”
“The rules are simple. Basically,” Chim starts, clapping his hands to get the attention of everyone in the group. “Basically, you tell a story about someone, and we have to bet on whether the person was a child or a drunk person.”
Buck blinks. “What, uh. What are we betting?”
Chim points at Ravi, who smiles. “Cash money, baby.”
Buck’s about to protest when Eddie says, “We’re in.”
Eddie from before-three-months-ago would’ve taken more convincing.
“O-okay, sure,” says Buck. “But, how are we betting? Like, are we just… giving the person telling the story money if we bet wrong?”
“No, we were thinking of making it an all-or-nothing kind of deal. So if you bet right, you don’t have to pay up, but if you’re wrong…”
Hen gestures to a fedora on the ground that Buck honestly, truly does not know how it got there. “You put what you owe in there.”
Buck frowns. “Who gets the money?”
“Whoever’s more deserving.”
Buck frowns harder. “And who decides that?”
Eddie elbows him gently. “It’ll be fine. Let’s just play.”
And who could say no to Eddie Diaz? Blowing a raspberry, Buck nods.
“I’ll start,” Chim volunteers, to absolutely no one’s shock.
The group settles in, and Chim clears his throat.
“So, I was at this café to pick up a couple of croissants one morning. It’s a beautiful day, sun is shining, birds are singing, et cetera. Then, while I’m queueing, this person standing right behind me pokes me, right? So, I turn around, and to my face, this person asks me if my hair is real.”
Ravi snorts, which sets Buck off, which sets Eddie off.
“Yeah, yeah,” Chim grumbles. “Just– spare a man’s ego, alright?”
Pretending not to be laughing herself, Hen says, “Bets?”
“Child,” says Karen, nodding decisively. Hen nods in agreement.
“Child,” Ravi echoes.
Buck and Eddie exchange a nod before saying, “Child,” at the same time.
Chim nods, keeping a surprisingly good poker face going. “And what does my lovely wife think?”
Maddie taps her chin thoughtfully. “I say child.”
For a second, Chim’s quiet. Then, he sighs, grabbing his wallet out of his pocket. The group cheers.
“Alright,” Chim says. “One: what gave it away? Two: how much do I owe the pot?”
“A drunk person wouldn’t’ve been at a café in the morning,” Karen says. “Unless they were on their way home from a night out.”
“But Chim doesn’t get up before ten if he’s not heading to work,” Hen says.
“Hey!” Chim shoots her a betrayed look.
Hen holds up her hands. “You have children, I get it. Not judging.”
“Five dollars,” Ravi says then, nodding at Chim’s wallet.
Chim sighs forlornly and deposits five dollars into the pot. Then, sullenly, he asks, “Who wants to go next?”
Beside him, Eddie clears his throat. “I’ve got one.”
Again, Buck looks at him. The rest of the team makes agreeable noises.
“Okay,” Eddie starts. “I’m on a date at Bottega Louie, right? And this person comes up asking me for a pen. I, uh. I don’t have a pen on me, so I tell her to ask a waitress. Two minutes later, same person comes back asking me for a notepad. A minute later, she knocks a glass of wine all over me.”
The group mulls it over silently. After a moment, Maddie says, “I say child.”
“Adult drunk person,” Chim counters.
“Mmh… child,” says Karen.
“Seconded,” says Hen. Ravi nods in agreement.
“Adult,” says Buck, decisively. He knows Eddie. He may not have heard about… this particular date, but he’s certain he’s right.
Eddie huffs a laugh before confirming, “Adult.”
“Yes!” Chim exclaims. Then he pauses. “Wait. Okay, that’s four people who voted child, two people who voted adult. So— pay up, child-betters.”
An hour later, Buck’s nursing his third beer while telling his own story.
“—and this person then asked if I had games on my phone,” he explains.
“Where were you?”
“I– no, that gives it away.”
“Okay, I bet… child.”
“Seconded.”
“Everyone betting child?”
“Not me,” says Eddie.
Maddie raises her eyebrow. “Buck?”
Buck purses his lips to hide a smile. “Her name was Katie, and she was so very drunk.”
“Ha!” Eddie grabs Buck’s knee, shaking it lightly.
The rest of the group groans.
“Okay,” sighs Ravi. “What are we up to?”
Hen ducks down to grab the pot, rifling through the cash with a hum. “Sixty dollars, give or take.”
Chim whistles. “It’s getting juicy. Who’s next?”
“Oh— I’ve got another one,” says Buck, slapping his knees excitedly. “It starts with the, uh, person spilling paint all over my parking spot.”
“I know this one—“ Eddie says, and the rest of the group groans.
“You can’t bet on Buck’s stories,” Chim declares, and Eddie snaps his mouth shut, raising his eyebrows. Chim points at Buck. “And vice versa! You know too much about each other.”
“What?” Buck squawks. “That’s stupid, come on–”
“Nope, no— you guys are so—“ Chim flails, trying to find the right word, before settling on, “Interwoven. It’s freaky. And you’re using it to your advantage, which is cheating. You’re bankrupting us.”
Buck scowls. “Nuh uh.”
“What he said,” Eddie says, visibly biting back a smile when Chim rolls his eyes.
They do, however, concede. Whenever Eddie tells a story, Buck dutifully keeps his mouth shut. When Chim isn’t looking, though, he mouths his guess at Karen, who giggles into her palm. Eddie also keeps quiet when Buck’s talking, but leans in to whisper his guess into Buck’s ear, which— honestly, Buck’s just glad he remembers how to breathe when he does.
Another half hour passes before yawns wide enough for his jaw to crack. A shiver wracks his body, and Eddie laughs at him quietly, knocking their knees together before standing.
“Think it’s bedtime for this guy,” he says, squeezing Buck’s shoulder.
Buck’s heart trips over itself, ducking his head as he chuckles. “Y-yeah. Sure is.”
“Same here,” Chim yawns, gesturing to himself.
The group stands, and Eddie grabs the bucket he’d parked next to him to pour over the fire. Over the sizzle, Hen gestures to the hat and asks, “Hey, what did we get to?”
“Uh.” Chim grabs the hat and counts the bills before stopping abruptly. He huffs a laugh. “118 dollars.”
Silence. And then everyone bursts into laughter.
“Okay, okay,” Hen laughs. “Who gets the money?”
Buck pipes up, “I think it should go to Bobby. We can put together a really nice menu for next week.”
Bobby smiles at him, and the rest of the group hums their ascent.
“As long as someone brings me leftovers,” says Maddie.
“Hear, hear,” says Karen.
Excited, Buck says, “We can do that, right, Bobby? And we can make the chilli con carne Athena likes– it’s almost better the day after.”
Bobby chuckles. “Sure, kid.”
“Then we have a plan!” Chim announces. “Adios, comrades. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
For some reason, the tent feels much smaller this time around.
“Just gotta piss,” Eddie tells him, and Buck hums, ducking between the flaps.
Buck’s already in his sleeping bag (unzipped, like last time) when Eddie returns, having just sent Chris a goodnight text. This time, he responded with: can we make churros next weekend?? To which Buck replied with: I’ll ask your dad! To which Chris said: that’s a yes then :)
Eddie groans when he slips into his sleeping bag, also keeping it unzipped as he collapses facedown like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Privately, Buck smiles.
“Night, Buck,” Eddie says, voice muffled.
“Night, Eddie,” Buck whispers.
But Buck doesn’t fall asleep. He listens to Eddie breathing, waiting for his breaths to get heavier. But they don’t. Which means Eddie’s also awake.
“Hey, Eddie?” Buck whispers. It’s been minutes, and as much as he likes lying here in the dark staring at the top of Eddie’s head, he’s buzzing, suddenly. He needs to know what Eddie’s thinking.
Eddie doesn’t open his eyes. “Hmm?”
“I– I really don’t mean this in a bad way, but why… why did we go camping? The first time, I mean.”
Eddie turns his head and opens his eyes, a small laugh escaping him. “You don’t mean that in a bad way?”
Buck doesn’t laugh. “Eddie.”
Eddie sobers, offering him a soft smile. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Buck swallows. “So why haven’t you?”
“Kept putting it off,” Eddie admits. “I’m not good with… with words. You know that.”
“You are,” Buck says, immediately. “When it counts, you are.”
Eddie shuffles closer, eyes flickering between Buck’s.
“You’ve got to know,” Eddie whispers.
Stomach swooping, Buck whispers back, “Say it anyway?”
Buck holds himself still as Eddie’s eyes flicker to Buck’s mouth, and then up again.
“I love you,” Eddie says, quiet but firm, tender and overwhelming. At once, Buck’s eyes start to burn.
And then Eddie’s lips find Buck’s in the dark.
Buck’s hand flies up to cradle Eddie’s jaw, body thrumming with it. He’s– he’s kissing Eddie. Eddie’s kissing him. After all this time, it’s– it’s actually happening.
“I love you, Buck,” Eddie mumbles into his mouth, before catching his lips in another kiss, harder this time.
Buck makes a small, wounded noise, thumb brushing Eddie’s cheekbone. He pulls back to press overwhelmed kisses to the corner of Eddie’s mouth, his cheek, his nose, his forehead. Eddie laughs under the onslaught of affection, hand finding Buck’s head to tangle loosely in the curls.
Eddie nudges his nose against Buck’s, a smile in his eyes.
“I love you,” Buck breathes, finally, the words rushing out of him. He feels like he’s going to combust, like he just jumped off a building without a harness.
He’s in love. And he’s loved back.
Figures, the two of them would fall into bed with each other – twice – without talking about it before they got here. If they had never broached the topic, Buck probably would have been okay with growing old as a bachelor, right beside Eddie. Partners through and through, in every way that counts.
But– but Eddie did say something. He handed Buck his heart years ago, written right there in his will. Buck hadn’t… he hadn’t realised, then. Maybe Eddie hadn’t either. But right from the start, there had been love. He’s so, so glad they took the time to foster it, that they took the time to grow into the kind of people who could accept it for what it is.
‘Cause now– now he gets to have this. He gets to have his family.
“Thanks,” Eddie whispers, and Buck can’t help but snicker.
“Thanks?”
Eddie grins, canines glinting in the dark. “Yeah, thanks. You’ve always had my back. Even… even in this.”
Buck’s heart trips over itself. Oh.
“Of course, Eddie,” he says, hand sliding down to Eddie’s neck, thumb pressed to his pulse point. “Of course.”
Still smiling, Eddie’s eyes slip shut. He wriggles closer, until they’re pressed together entirely, two people becoming one. He tangles their hands together, eyes catching on Eddie’s ring finger.
God, Buck can’t wait for the rest of his life. He’s pretty sure it’s going to be awesome.