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Eddie gets hit on.
A lot.
And Buck’s totally cool with it. He gets it. Eddie’s hot. It doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t bother Eddie, so of course it doesn’t bother Buck. Why would it? He gets his fair share of attention too, it’s not a big deal.
They get hit on.
It just goes with the job. People see the uniform and something messes with the synapses in their brains, they say and do things that they probably wouldn’t normally say or do. It’s embarrassing, mostly, funny, occasionally, but whatever, it’s fine.
It’s fine.
But then everything shifts because Eddie says two huge, enormous words to Buck–
I’m gay.
And suddenly Buck looks at all of those propositions a little differently.
Because there’s a lot of guys who hit on Eddie.
There always has been, but now they’re a possibility. The only one, actually, now that Eddie’s come out, now that he’s said to Buck, all soft and quiet, confessional, that he can’t wait to kiss a man, to hold his hand. And it’s so incredibly sweet, the things Eddie wants, the things he says when it’s just the two of them on Eddie’s couch, the tv turned down low, the living room only lit by its glow. They’re things that feel familiar and known to Buck.
To be seen as he truly is.
To be loved.
And Buck wants that for Eddie more than anything.
Christopher is back from Texas, they’re mending their relationship day by day, and it’s so much stronger, so much better, in so many ways. Buck loves seeing this new phase blossom and grow. And now that Eddie has come out, has started to want things for himself, Buck wants all of those things for him too.
So when Eddie gets hit on during calls, or at the grocery store, or at the bar on one of the rare occasions the whole family can get to one, Buck wants to grab him and shake him as hard as he can when he says no over and over again. He blushes, shakes his head, and lets them down kindly, gently, with a quiet, ‘no, thank you.’
Buck doesn’t understand why.
Why does he say no to everyone when he keeps telling Buck all of the things he can’t wait to experience? He’s never going to find them if he never says yes to anyone.
So, naturally, Buck has a mission: get Eddie to say yes.
To someone. Anyone.
Well, not anyone. Eddie deserves the best, but it’s highly unlikely he’s going to find perfect straight off the bat, so there’s going to be some frog kissing in there, but at least he’ll be kissing. It’s what he wants - someone to kiss, to hold his hand - a frog can do that as well as any other.
A training frog, if you will.
Eddie needs a few training frogs.
Then his prince.
Buck knows in his heart Eddie will get his prince, he has to, because it’s the only way Buck will be able to let him go. The only way he’ll be able to untangle his heart, the only way he’ll finally be able to move on, is if he knows for certain Eddie has his prince, his perfect match.
Buck can’t let him go for anyone less.
Because of course Buck loves him, has probably loved him from the start, and it was never Tommy’s attention he was trying to get. It only took him a spring and summer of dating Tommy, but spending all of his time with Eddie, to realize it. When Christopher had come home right before school started Tommy had asked him if he was finally going to go home to his family too. Buck had stuttered and flailed, felt hot all over, confused and adrift for all of five seconds before he’d realized.
He’d realized.
Eddie hadn’t yet come out, but Tommy had known, just like he’d known about Buck, and for the second time in just a handful of months he’d sent Buck’s life into a tailspin.
A wonderful, beautiful fall.
His heart thumped in his chest, every nerve-ending sparked, and every single time he saw Eddie’s face, heard his voice, or even read a stupid text filled with emojis that had absolutely nothing to do with what Eddie was talking about but were put in there simply to annoy him, his entire goddamn body came alive. He felt lit from within, and it was all Eddie.
Always Eddie.
He felt really stupid for a while, not seeing it, but then he realized that he had, he just hadn’t known what it was. Eddie had changed him, his entire chemistry, and who he is now, the life he has now, is because he loves Eddie. It’s only that it has become so everyday, so commonplace, that Buck hadn’t seen it.
It simply was.
He loved Eddie.
Eddie, who is in his very cells, who has built him anew, so that everything he was before him is gone.
When Eddie came out to him, Buck felt himself light up, felt hope that maybe-
Maybe.
But then Eddie never reached for him, never asked for anything, and Buck let the hope go.
And now here he is trying his hardest to get some goddamn frogs for Eddie to kiss until one of them turns into his prince.
Only Eddie is being his usual stubborn self.
When the guy in the produce section asks Eddie if he knows how to pick the perfect watermelon, which, really, lame pick-up line, but he’s cute and it’s at least a start, Eddie just smiles at him and says, no, he doesn’t, but Buck does. He stands in front of a man clearly attempting to flirt with him and tells him in great detail how Buck always picks the perfect melon, that he knows exactly what to look for because he’s researched it and has told Eddie all about how it’s done, but that he’s forgotten all of it because Buck’s always there to do it for him anyway, so the guy really should have Buck pick one out instead.
All his rambling does is make the cute guy look at Buck like he’s a complete weirdo with a melon fetish before he says, no, that’s okay, he doesn’t really need a melon today, and walks away.
Eddie is just confused as hell and spends the rest of their grocery trip mumbling about the guy and wondering why he wouldn’t want Buck’s help.
When the three of them take Jee-Yun to the park to give Chim and Maddie a chance to run some errands kid-free, the guy at the cart selling them hot chocolates puts extra whipped cream on Eddie’s before handing it over to him, which, rude, how does he know Eddie’s not Buck’s husband, or boyfriend, or whatever? They’re at a park with two children, like, where does he think those children come from? But that’s neither here, nor there, because the guy has a nice smile and sells hot chocolate in the park, he can’t be all bad, right?
But when he hands the hot chocolate over to Eddie he just looks at it, then over at Buck’s hot chocolate, frowns, and tells the guy he didn’t give Buck enough whipped cream, like a complete moron. Buck just sighs and hands his cup over to the hot chocolate man so he can add more whipped cream after Eddie nearly nudges him to death, then helpfully suggests maybe adding some chocolate sprinkles too.
Eddie only smiles at hot chocolate man once he’s given Buck what Eddie considers to be a proper amount of whipped cream and sprinkles, because, ‘the whipped cream is Buck’s favorite part.’
When they end up on a hiking trail getting a woman out of a tree on a call - somehow she thought she saw a kitten up on a branch - her brother asks Eddie if he likes to hike. He’s looking Eddie up and down as Ravi gets his sister into a harness and off the very precarious branch she’s been clinging to, and tells Eddie he looks like he must hike, that he looks like he really enjoys physical activity, which, okay, maybe calm down a bit, bro, your sister’s stuck in a tree. But whatever. Eddie does like hiking, and physical activity, even though Buck knows exactly what physical activity the dude is talking about, the little degenerate. And right in front of his sister too.
Anyway, the point is moot because all Eddie does is tell the guy he does indeed like hiking, and so does Buck, and that they go on hikes as often as they can, and also, did he know there’s this one trail they really love because they can take their kid on it with them? At Griffith Park? It’s really great because then they can hit the Observatory too. Awesome, right?
The guy just looks over at Buck apologetically, tells Eddie, sure, man, and then hustles over to Cap to ask about his sister’s progress.
Sure, now he cares that his sister is hanging from a tree branch. And from Ravi.
Whatever.
Eddie is a disaster, Buck’s frustrated as hell, and everything is going to shit.
And then there’s Friday movie night.
Chris is in his room on his computer until the very last minute because while he’ll still participate in movie and pizza night it’s one movie only, and shoved in between bouts of gaming with his friends. It’s a compromise he and Eddie have come to because they know that soon they won’t have even one movie.
So anyway, Christopher’s in his room - thank god - when the doorbell rings for the pizza. Eddie goes to get it as Buck opens the fridge to grab some drinks for them. He comes out of the kitchen just in time to hear Eddie ask the pizza delivery guy–
“You’ve got an extra large sausage, right?”
Buck trips over his feet as the delivery guy bursts out laughing and says, “Sure, if you’re the one who’s asking.”
Buck dies a slow death when Eddie answers, “Of course I’m the one asking. I’m right in front of you with my open mouth, who else would be asking?”
As he’s now finally standing in the entryway, holding three cans of soda to his chest, and leaving this earth piece by painful piece, the delivery guy still holding his extra large sausage and laughing just beyond Eddie’s shoulder, Buck sighs and says, “Oh my god, Eddie. It’s a porno. You've answered the door like an eighties porno.”
Eddie turns to look at him, a scowl on his face. “No, I haven’t!”
“Extra large sausage? Open mouth? I mean, I hope you’re stocked up on lube.”
Eddie’s face turns a brilliant shade of red, and Buck loves him a terrible, horrible amount. Especially when he hisses, “Buck!” in the most scandalized voice he’s ever heard.
Buck just shrugs and turns to look at the delivery guy, hoping to end this all as soon as possible, but the delivery guy is looking at him now.
“Y’know,” he says, leaning against the open doorway. “I definitely wouldn’t be opposed if it were both of you asking.”
“What?” Eddie blurts out at the same time Buck shakes his head in disappointment and sighs, “Dude.”
The delivery guy finally gives the pizza to a still very scandalized Eddie as he holds both of his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, man.”
“Yeah, well, stop saying,” Buck says as he walks up to Eddie and nudges him out of the way. He shifts the cans so he’s hugging them with one arm as he waves off the delivery guy, kid, actually. “What are you anyway, like, seventeen? What are you even doing out this late? Go home. Skedaddle.”
Buck closes the door on the kid’s face and turns to find Eddie still next to him, staring and clutching the pizza boxes in his hands.
“Did you just say skedaddle?”
“I believe I did.”
Eddie keeps staring at him for a second before a delayed bark of laughter bursts out of him and he starts shoving at Buck with the pizza boxes.
“Oh, okay, grandpa, let’s skedaddle to the living room, my extra large sausage is getting cold.”
“Jesus Christ. Everyone needs to stop saying extra large sausage.”
“You started it,” is Eddie’s stellar comeback.
“I absolutely did not.”
“Yeah, well, you porno’ed it.”
“No, I believe that was you too,” Buck says as he sets the soda down on the coffee table. “The most oblivious man on the planet.”
Eddie puts the pizzas on the table as well and drops down onto the couch.
“Okay, so it wasn’t my most brilliant moment, but I highly doubt I’m the most oblivious man on the planet.”
“Um, not only the planet,” Buck argues, “but the entire solar system, and like a few of the next door neighbor systems too. Totally oblivious.”
“Because I stepped in it in front of a pizza delivery kid? Come on, Buck, that’s a little dramatic, even for you.”
And it’s all just the icing on the cake.
Because, quite frankly, Buck’s had it up to here. He’s been trying for nearly a month to shove Eddie out into the world, to get him started on his way to finding all of the things he wants, while at the same time wanting to just grab onto him with both hands and yell, ‘Hello, I’m right here. Me. I’m the one who will give you all of those things. I’d give you everything until there’s nothing left of me.’
But instead he’s got porno Eddie blabbering about whipped cream and extra large sausages and fucking melons and he’s about to scream.
“No, not because you stepped in it in front of the pizza guy,” Buck says in exasperation as he throws up his hands and starts pacing back and forth between the coffee table and tv. “Because you’re a total idiot who has people falling all over you and not once do you notice, not once do you take them up on what they’re very obviously offering, because you’re too busy telling them about my mad melon skills.”
“Well, you’re really good at picking them,” Eddie says.
“Oh my god, Eddie. Ever since you came out you’ve been telling me about all of the things you’re looking forward to now that you know what you really want, now that you know you can have those things, and I’m trying. I’m trying,” Buck repeats. “Like I really want to be your wingman here, but you’re making it impossible, and I give up. I give up.”
“You’re giving up on me?”
Buck hates the way Eddie’s voice sounds, like he’s disappointed, but why? He’s the oblivious idiot who hadn’t even known until about a minute and a half ago that any of this was even happening in the first place.
“Because you never notice anyone noticing you,” he nearly shouts. “How are you going to say yes to any of them when you’re oblivious?”
“I notice them,” Eddie says.
“What?”
“I notice them. When they flirt,” he adds, like Buck’s the one who has no clue what’s going on here and needs the clarification.
“Then why do you never flirt back, or say yes to any of them?” Buck’s about to pull his hair out, and to be honest he’s only just figured out how to style it properly and it’ll be a real loss, but oh my god, the Eddie of it all.
“Why would I say yes to any of them?”
“Um. Well. Unless you want to join a convent and run around singing on hills–”
“That’s not how convents work, Buck.”
“Whatever. It’s not like you’re going to find a handsome widower to come ask you to make clothes out of curtains for his seventeen orphan children, you’re already the handsome widower,” Buck almost trips over his own feet as he paces when he sees the blush start to glow on Eddie’s cheeks at the compliment. “And you’re never going to find your Maria if you don’t ever say yes to any of them. You gotta kiss some frogs, Eddie!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about right now,” Eddie says, but he’s starting to smile and Buck stops pacing to look at him. “But I do know I’m still not going to say yes to any of them, Marias or frogs.”
“Well, why not? I mean, not the delivery kid, obviously, but the melon guy seemed nice.”
“Because I’ve already got my own melon guy.”
“What?”
“I’m sure that other melon guy was perfectly nice, but I’m pretty stuck on my melon guy. I’m kind of crazy in love with him, actually. He picks the perfect melons.”
When Buck’s brain starts to compute what Eddie’s actually saying he thinks he may start crying right there on the spot, even though it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.
Melons, for fucksake. His career as a wingman was doomed from the start if this is the bullshit flirting Eddie Daiz actively participates in.
“You must really love melons,” he says inanely, voice a bit wobbly.
“I do,” Eddie says. “I love them more than I’ve ever loved any other, um, fruit.”
Buck watches as Eddie’s nose scrunches up and he gets that pissy little scowl on his face that Buck loves so much when he realizes what he’s just said.
“Really? More than all the other fruits?” Buck asks as he smiles all teary-eyed and rubs at his nose. “Even strawberries?”
“Even strawberries,” Eddie says, voice all soft and sweet.
“I really love melons too. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved them ever since I met them–”
Jesus Christ, now he’s stuck on melons.
“Buck?”
“Yeah?”
“Please let’s stop saying melons.”
Buck laughs as he walks over to Eddie and plops himself down onto this lap, his legs straddling Eddie’s hips.
“Because if this is payback for all the sausage talk–”
“It’s not, I swear,” Buck interrupts Eddie as he takes his face in his hands and just holds him there, all beautiful and his. “I’ve just loved you for a really long time and I’m really really happy about it.”
“Really really?” Eddie grins up at him and Buck just has to kiss him, those perfect lips that are so terrible at flirting.
So he does.
And it’s definitely better than melons.
Because Eddie’s right, Buck’s really good at picking them.