Chapter Text
It's not how Buck wanted this to go.
He wanted to knock on Eddie’s door and apologize, say he was sorry for what happened at the station. He was just having a moment! He really didn’t mean to tell everyone Eddie was leaving; he just snapped. He really was sorry. He even figured out exactly how to help after being such an asshole at the showings the other day! He was going to extend his olive branch, tell Eddie that he wanted to do his part. Do what he can to help his family. He can’t fix it, but he can do this. He can take over the sublet.
But, surprise, surprise, that’s not what happens.
Because he’s sad Eddie is leaving, because he didn’t get to keep the dog, because Eddie started yelling as soon as he walked in the door. Because Buck can’t handle anything else in his life changing right now. Because Eddie is selfish.
Because Eddie’s huffing and running his fingers through loose strands the way he does when he’s frustrated and exhausted. And seriously, Buck gets it. He was being a little insane earlier. And really, the fighting isn’t new. They’d been fighting constantly since Buck flipped over that iPad. Buck was not innocent in these arguments; he’s adult enough to admit that at least.
Because, despite outward appearances, he has been trying to hold his tongue. About everything. Well, obviously not everything. He is being very vocal about one thing. But everything else? He is holding back how hurt he feels about Kim, how he misses Chris as much as he would miss the oxygen in the air if it disappeared, how he’s really feeling about Tommy breaking up with him.
He’s holding it in, he is.
And because he knows, he really does.
He knows it’s been a hard year for Eddie, for everyone. He knows that Eddie was missing Shannon; that watching Chris grow is like watching her ghost get taller. He knows if he thinks about it for a minute, Kim wasn’t all that unexpected. It still hurts, though, thinking of the moment she walked into the station. He knows he had been preoccupied with Tommy, that he hadn’t been around to see what was happening before it blew up in everyone’s faces. And, he knows Eddie. He knows that at this point, pushing Eddie to make a different decision than the one he’s already settled on will just lead to another fight.
The point is, he knows things. About Eddie.
So, he listens as Eddie rants about how he’s making this all about him and how he doesn’t like this any more than Buck does. And like, honestly? Fuck that. He’s pissed off. And he’s tired of everyone treating him like he has no reason to be sad or angry or annoyed that Eddie is leaving. Like, he shouldn’t be affected by all of this. Like it’s not turning his entire life upside down.
He can feel the angry monster crawling up his throat with every twitch of the finger Eddie is wielding at him. But seriously, this isn’t how he wants to spend Eddie’s last days in town; he’s really content to swallow it down again, keep the peace. He’s going to tell him he put in the notice on the loft, and they’re going to head to the bar with their family, and they’re both going to smile while Eddie drives away, even if it kills them.
That is, until Eddie says it.
“If you're going to make this about me having to choose between you or my son, you’re going to lose. Every time. ”
In hindsight, he really wishes he could have taken a deep breath, said no, cmon, of course - that’s, that’s not even a question.
He would prefer to take back the angry laugh, too. But, it is what it is. He seriously can't help it, the edges of his vision go red and blurry, he can feel his fingernails digging into his palm, and the back of his neck goes hot.
“ Your son?” Buck barks, laughing like fire out of his nose
Eddie physically jolts upright, mouth gaping at Buck, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Nobody asked you to choose between us.” Buck spits, it’s not an answer, and he’s dodging, but he thinks it’s important to note.
Eddie takes a step towards Buck now, chest puffed out a bit, and tries to level him with a glare. Buck doesn’t move, keeps his chin up. If Eddie wants to fight him on this, let him. He’s got a secret fucking weapon.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Buck? You think my parents are doing a better job?”
Buck recoils with a disgusted look on his face. That’s not what he meant. History says he should be floundering, trying to fix it, trying to make him see how much it guts him that Eddie could think he meant that.
But right now? All he can think is: I didn’t fucking say that.
“Oh, so, you are just out of your fucking mind,” Buck spits before he pauses, cocking his head to the right, mostly to make Eddie sweat.
“No, Edmundo. I think that for the last 6 years I have been here. I’ve been there for holidays and tantrums and life-altering fucking disasters. He comes to me with his problems. He listens to me. He trusts me. Not because I forced it. Because I fucking earned it.”
He should stop there. He doesn’t.
“And,” he scrubs his face hard like it’ll stop the words from coming out. It doesn’t. The weapon already drawn, “There's a less than zero percent chance that I will end up raising him alone for the rest of my life.”
Buck realizes he’s pacing. When did he start moving? He stops, turns to Eddie again with his hand stalled in his hair, where he was pushing it back aggressively
“There is a version of the future where your name is on a headstone, and mine is on his school paperwork,” he gasps a small burst of air in like it might be his last. “But for some reason, when you need a reason to justify leaving, he’s just your son.”
“Buck.” Eddie tries, but Buck is already opening his mouth again
“You keep saying I’m making this about me, but when does it get to be about me? When do I get to acknowledge that you lied to me, too? That your actions lost me, Chris, too.” Buck’s voice is cracking, lip quivering, and he really can’t fucking stop. “I did nothing wrong, but I’m losing everything, too. I’m sitting here, with my heart in Texas, and it’s your fault. Forgive me if I’m a bit perturbed that you claim this all on your own, like you’re the only person affected by it. Like your move to Texas is some kind of sacrifice only you have to make at the proverbial altar of Chris’s life.”
He’s still pacing, but now he can see Eddie’s hand twitching at his side, desperately, like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing Buck’s shoulder.
“You-“ Buck stops now, looking directly into Eddie’s eyes, he feels the tears burning in his waterline. “When you put my name in your will, you pulled my heart out of my chest and placed it in front of me without even asking, and now, he’s just your son.”
Eddie doesn’t respond; he barely takes a breath. Buck watches, waits for Eddie to spit back his worst fears.
You overestimate your contribution
Nobody asked you to do that
You’ve overstepped your bounds
But it doesn’t come. Instead, suddenly, he feels Eddie’s lips on his.
Eddie can’t feel his body. He can’t feel anything other than the pounding of his heart against his eardrums as he watches Buck pace back and forth. He’s sure he looks ridiculous, like a Looney-Toons character with his eyes falling out of his head in shock.
He hears Buck like he hears the team through the headphones in the engine; everything else faded in the background, just Buck saying “I’ve been here,” and “raising him alone,” and “my heart in Texas” over the loudspeaker in his brain.
Eddie can't speak. Doesn’t breathe. It’s not just the words. It’s how Buck said them. It’s how Buck looked at him, like he’s breaking, like Eddie broke him. Eddie watches him, and he feels... something.
He acknowledges, maybe for the first time, that Buck’s been carrying all of this alone. Not just Chris. But him, too. The late nights and early mornings, through homework and babysitters, through fights and vitriol.
Eddie has spent so long pretending not to see it. Because seeing it meant acknowledging how deep this all runs. How much Buck belongs to them. How much Eddie has always let himself rely on that, take it in like oxygen, without admitting what it really was. How he was offering nothing in return.
He doesn’t even know he’s doing it until it’s already done. This feeling washes over him. It's like a full-body surge of adrenaline, of just how much Buck loves Chris, how fiercely, how fully. And then he’s not thinking at all. Just moving. Surging forward like a man possessed.
He grabs the sides of Buck’s face and kisses him.
The stubble under his palms sends sparks up his arms, and it pulls him back into his body, into the now, even as the world tilts sideways around them. He feels a tear slip between their lips. He doesn’t know whose it is. It doesn’t matter. He leans in harder.
And Buck?
Buck doesn’t kiss him back.
He’s so not kissing him back that Eddie barely registers the hand on his chest until it’s pushing him away. Not roughly, just firm. Certain.
“Don’t,” Buck gasps, voice low. “Don’t kiss me because you don’t know what to say.”
Eddie’s breath stutters, eyes wide, fingers rushing up subconsciously to touch where Buck’s lips touched his just a second ago. He opens his mouth to speak, to explain, but his brain can’t form the words. His thoughts are still tangled somewhere between I’m sorry and you're right and I didn’t know until right now.
But before he can find even a single syllable in the English language -
There’s a knock at the door.