Chapter Text
Bobby died.
Bobby died and Eddie wasn’t there, and no one even called him for a day and a half.
Bobby died two weeks into April. Too late for fools, just a cruel joke from the universe. A phone call in the middle of the night like a bat to the kneecaps.
Eddie did not go back to sleep that night. He couldn’t. He cried on the floor silently in the dark and he cried in the shower loudly after Chris went to school. And then he made plans. He spent the day with his phone hot against his ear and a legal pad in his hand, making arrangements. He was wrung out by the time Chris got home that afternoon but he had most of his plans in place.
Buck only responded to texts occasionally and to phone calls not at all over the next few days, often leaving him on read or giving nothing beyond a tapback thumbs up. Eddie boarded a plane two weeks later with a tiny carry-on and a garment bag with a suit, only half sure where he’d be sleeping once he landed.
He got an uber from the airport because Buck didn’t respond to his ‘landed!” texts. The car smelled good and the driver spoke no English, but Eddie managed to convince him to wait a couple minutes just in case no one was home with a combination of google translate and his best beseeching cow eyes.
He jogged up to the front door and knocked, uncomfortably aware he wasn’t sure he was welcome and certainly not about to push that by using a key. No one answered. He was walking back to the uber and two sentences into a text to Hen to ask if he could crash on her couch instead when the front door creaked open.
“Eddie?” he called.
Eddie paused and looked back over his shoulder, thumbs still moving on his screen, trying to school his face to be less annoyed as he turned around. “Oh, you are home,” he said.
Buck blinked and stepped out onto the porch, pulling his green cardigan closed around his torso and looking baffled and bedraggled. “Sorry. You don’t have your key?”
“I don’t live here anymore,” Eddie replied. Buck flinched and looked back toward his door, then nodded.
“Are you… not staying?” he asked.
“You tell me, Buck,” Eddie said. He looked back at the driver who made a ‘well?’ gesture through the windshield. Eddie could relate; he hated when fares dilly-dallied. His rating was going to tank again.
“I thought—” Buck started and then shook his head, frowning with his eyes fixed somewhere past Eddie. “Sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing lately. Of course you can stay here.” He rubbed his forehead.
Eddie nodded then headed back to the car to retrieve his bags. He thanked the driver again in English and Arabic, which he remembered from Army training even though that was less than useful when he ended up in a country that spoke Pashto and Dari. The driver grunted, muttered something that sounded unflattering, and peeled out while Eddie stood in the lawn.
Buck stood there on the step looking stoop-shouldered and awkward, his face puffy and mottled red, hands tucked safely away in his pockets. His eyes were glassy. Eddie found he couldn’t be irritated in the face of that. He set his own jaw with grim determination and headed up the front walk. Buck turned and led the way inside, mumbling something about coffee as he abandoned Eddie by the door.
Eddie set his bag down and hung the garment bag on the coat tree, then looked around to catalog the differences in the room. It was set up roughly the same way he’d arranged his own furniture, like Buck hadn’t done much more than change the font on an email. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
He left his boots on and followed Buck to the kitchen, standing awkwardly with his hands on the island, watching Buck’s jaw tick as he stared at the coffee maker without turning around. Eddie felt like the ghost in the room.
“Ravi picked up my Class A from the dry cleaner,” Buck said eventually, eyes on the coffee drip. “He’ll be here soon.”
“It’ll be good to see him,” Eddie said. He turned and opened a cupboard, not surprised to find Buck’s coffee mugs lined up exactly where he used to keep his own. He glanced at Buck then chose two at random, a black one with stripes and another glossy and white with a cheery cartoon of a bison and big letters proclaiming Cheyenne, Wyoming, the “magic city of the plains.”
He stepped up next to Buck and set both mugs on the counter next to the coffee maker, then nudged his shoulder with his own. “Hey,” he said softly.
Buck glanced sideways at him and grimaced like he was trying to smile. Eddie wrapped one arm around his shoulders and leaned into his side, resting his temple on Buck’s deltoid briefly, holding on even when Buck tensed.
“I’m here now,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“No, it’s good you weren’t,” Buck said, shaking him off.
Eddie pulled back, stung. It was cold in the house and he shivered. He folded both arms over his chest and hunched in on himself, turning to lean his tailbone back against the counter instead. Buck flinched again but kept his eyes on the coffee. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked after a minute.
Buck grabbed one of the mugs and blinked down at it, thumb tracing the fancy script tail of the G in Wyoming. “It has been miserable here. I’m glad you weren’t here for it,” he said. He set the mug down again and blinked at Eddie.
“It’s been miserable in Texas, too,” Eddie said.
“Sure,” Buck said, foggy and disinterested. He picked up the carafe and filled the black mug, then set it behind Eddie on the counter and picked up the other. He filled that one as well then walked around the other side of the island to get to the fridge where he kept his weird flavors of creamer. Eddie made no move to pick up his mug, watching him silently.
“Look, Buck. Hen and Karen offered me their couch as well, if this is too much for you,” he said finally.
Buck looked up at him, blinking. “What?”
“It just seems like you’d rather be alone,” Eddie said, trying to keep his voice even, looking away first. The oven doors seemed a brighter teal than he remembered. “I know it’s weird for me to be here. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have assumed you had room for me here. I’m sorry. You just weren’t answering me.” He cringed hard and turned to pick up the mug just for something to do with his hands.
“Oh,” Buck said quietly. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean for you to make other arrangements. I just assumed you’d come here. That you knew that.”
“You didn’t say anything. Buck, I think I’ve gotten a total of ten words from you in a week.” He looked down at his own reflection in his coffee, big alien head and a frown. It was somehow more flattering than he knew he looked, disheveled from the plane and covered in a frankly homeless amount of stubble, hair too long and greasy and stuck to his forehead.
“I’m sorry,” Buck said. Eddie looked up and Buck did genuinely look regretful. “Time has been kind of slippery for me.” He motioned toward the doorway to the dining room then headed out of the kitchen like he expected Eddie to follow. Of course Eddie followed.
They sat at the table, hunched over their mugs. Buck stared into space and started talking about some series he was streaming that Eddie had never heard of, which was fairly surprising. Eddie was usually the media literate one.
Buck’s phone chimed in his pocket, interrupting him midsentence. He leaned back in his seat to fish it out, nose wrinkling when he read the screen. “Ravi,” he said.
“Go on,” Eddie said, waving a hand. “I’m going to wash my face.” He got up stiffly, abandoning his coffee on the table. He paused for half a breath, watching Buck, then shook his head and walked away when Buck didn’t even look up.
He picked up his garment bag and carry-on, headed down the hallway. He kept his gaze resolutely on the sliver of bathroom he could see, not even glancing at the closed door to Chris’s old room. He wondered what Buck had done with it but he wasn’t brave enough to peek. This wasn’t his home anymore.
He hung the bag on a hook inside the bathroom, behind the door, then set his suitcase on the closed toilet lid to unzip it for his shaving kit. Then he stared at his reflection above the sink for a long time. He looked sallow and puffy, with just slightly enough shitty beard that it was less Aragorn arriving at Helms Deep and more Jack Torrance with an axe in his hands, bags under his eyes big enough to carry a family’s groceries.
He checked his own phone and texted Chris a picture looking down the hallway from the bathroom door toward the living room. ‘buck is not a creative interior decorator’ he added.
‘lmao is everything in the same spot u put it??’ Chris replied.
Eddie sent back the 100 emoji. Chris tap-backed a haha, which made Eddie smile a little. He typed out a quick I love you then pocketed his phone and stuck his face directly under the faucet.
He straightened and looked at himself in the mirror again, chin dripping. He’d stared into this mirror a thousand times. He’d avoided staring into it a thousand more. It was the frame around his own appearance he knew best, the bathroom door behind him, a towel hanging on the hook. Buck’s towels were gray for some reason.
He shook his head and turned, drying off with one of those gray towels. He adjusted the neck of his hoodie, feeling a little choked, then pushed away from the sink and headed back out to find Buck. Being in a room with Buck was always better than the alternative.
Buck was back in the kitchen, puttering around. Eddie sat at the end of the dining table where he’d left his coffee, stretched his legs out in front of him, and leaned back enough he could see Buck. “Hey.”
Buck looked over and lifted his chin. “Hey?”
“Come sit. You don’t even have to talk to me. Just come sit,” Eddie said.
“Eddie,” Buck said, face falling.
“Buck, please,” he said.
Buck stared at him, blank and glassy, but Eddie stared back. He hoped his face was welcoming, something gentle, but he suspected it was challenging instead. Either way, Buck nodded and slunk over, settling in the chair perpendicular to him.
“Thank you,” Eddie said.
They sat there in silence for a long time, Buck staring forward and only blinking half as often as normal, Eddie watching him. He wondered if this was how Buck felt watching him last year, still torn apart and leaking everywhere after Chris walked out the front door, a fundamental organ missing. Eddie had his son back under his roof but his chest was still hollow, and he doesn’t know how to tell Buck that it will always feel like this. But Buck probably knew that, probably better than Eddie could imagine, the difference between a native speaker and someone who learned later. The difference between a cradle Catholic and a convert. Eddie was made of it but via some kind of transubstantiation; Buck would always know more nuances of grief because it was all he had ever been. Eddie was missing something even in grief.
Eddie got up and refilled his coffee. He sat back down. Buck blinked at him like he’d forgotten he was there. Eventually, Ravi arrived.
Eventually, they were in suits, clean-shaven, trying to hold it together. Sitting shoulder to shoulder in a cathedral. Not hearing the words the brass said.
After the ceremony but before they left the cathedral, there was a bit of a gap of time. People mingled. Eddie lost track of his former teammates at one point, looked around and found himself standing with Miranda Williams and Jeshan Mehta, recently promoted to chief himself. Eddie had always liked Williams and he knows Mehta was instrumental in saving his life once. They were both effusive in their condolences, both offering him hugs.
“And you are still in Texas?” Mehta asked.
Eddie nodded. “Just waiting on a hiring freeze to lift with the El Paso Fire Department and then I’m official,” he said.
Williams’s face fell. “And is that… safe for you there? I mean, sorry. It’s Texas,” she said haltingly, like she wasn’t sure how much to say. Eddie glanced at Mehta, who waved a dismissive hand. He’d watched Eddie almost bleed to death; he’d probably seen the top surgery scars on Eddie’s chest.
“No, I know. I’m sure there will be extra bullshit I have to file and prove my suitability,” Eddie said. He was absolutely positive there would be. “But my likely future captain didn’t seem concerned. I had to declare it here, too. El Paso is a big city. It’s very blue there. It’s safe enough.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. “Right. That’s where Beto O’Rourke comes from, right?”
He nodded. “Yep. So I’m not too worried about the climate. And I dare someone look at me and tell me I’m a woman,” he added with a snort, gesturing at his torso with a little tah-dah.
“I can’t imagine anyone has made that mistake in years,” Mehta said mildly, then he glanced over Eddie’s shoulder.
“I know another trans firefighter in Austin, too. Yeah, not geographically close, but still in Texas,” Eddie added quickly as he heard footsteps approaching behind him, the scuff of dress shoes on marble tile. He turned to see Tommy Kinard approaching them, looking grim. Eddie hadn’t seen him since he broke up with Buck; hadn’t even thought about him until he saw him lining up for the procession outside the cathedral. He bit the inside of his cheek and watched him close the distance to join their group.
“Kinard,” Williams said mildly. She flicked her wrist dismissively when he made a vague gesture to stand on ceremony.
“Chief Williams,” Tommy said, nodding, voice gruff. Then he turned to Mehta and offered a hand. “And our newest Chief as well. Congratulations, sir.”
Mehta shook his hand briskly. “I am not sure we are acquainted.”
“Tommy Kinard, sir. Harbor.”
“Kinard was tangentially involved in the incident concerning Captain Nash,” Williams said coolly. Her face was impassive. Eddie had played poker with her enough times to know her biggest tell was her lack of a tell. When her mask went on full volume. He glanced at Tommy, whose jaw tensed before he spoke again.
“I flew the helicopter,” Tommy said to Mehta, flashing a dimple.
“Ah,” Mehta said, shuffling his hat to tuck it under the opposite arm. His face stayed impassive as well. “I heard you gave them quite the chase.”
“It was for a good cause,” Tommy said, demure. Then he turned to Eddie. “Diaz.”
“Kinard,” Eddie said, voice even. He turned and looked at him. They’d been friends once. They had a lot in common. Tommy looked like a stranger now even though they had even more in common these days. They both had the 118 and lost it, and they both had Buck in some way and lost that, too.
“I am glad to see you could make it,” Tommy drawled, but with an undercurrent like if he was slightly less sad it would be mocking. Eddie was not in the mood for deciphering Tommy.
“I missed enough,” Eddie said, tipping his chin up.
Tommy swallowed and nodded. “Well. It’s good you’re here now. Evan will need you.”
“Speaking of, I should go find him. See you shortly, Kinard,” he said with a nod, then he turned back to Williams and Mehta to excuse himself. And then he turned and walked stiffly away.
He found Maddie and Chim first, huddled together in the atrium. Chim was swaying a bit, still smelling of vodka. Buck had done his best to clean him up but short of a stomach pump and some activated charcoal, this was it. Maddie made sure Chim could stand on his own then she reached over and gripped Eddie’s wrist tightly, hard enough that her nails bit into his skin. “Please don’t leave yet,” she hissed at him. “LA, I mean. Please don’t leave LA yet.”
Eddie nodded quickly, avoiding her gaze. He’d always found her intimidating in the best of times, so he kept his eyes on Chim. “I don’t have a return flight booked,” he admitted. “I’m not leaving yet.”
Chim pulled him into a tight hug, burying his face against Eddie’s chest. Eddie wrapped both arms around him as well, squeezing even tighter. They both sucked in shuddering breaths. “God, I’m so glad you made it today,” Chim said, muffled.
Eddie held on tighter. “Nowhere else I could be,” he agreed, closing his eyes.
When they finally pulled back, the crowd was drifting toward the exit. Eddie watched Chim kiss Maddie goodbye, and then they headed toward the nave, meeting the other pallbearers. Eddie took the spot to Buck’s right before anyone else could as they waited for the others, leaning their shoulders together one more time. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said softly, and Buck nodded, lips sucked into his mouth.
Later, Eddie would not remember much of the recessional. Flashes. Shouldering the weight of Bobby’s body (he could take it, he thought. He could take more than a sixth of it but he was glad to share. He kept his jaw tight and his lip stiff and his spine straight). Staring at the back of Buck’s head and wishing they were wearing the same clothes (not that he missed the starch of the Class A, but he felt almost naked in a basic black suit). Staring at the rear of the engine once Bobby was loaded, standing to the side with his hands folded behind his back as Athena and May hung a clean, uncontaminated turnout with the name Nash on the back. Squeezing Athena’s hand when she passed, hoping she could hear his “I understand” without him giving it words (this was a grief they shared; he hoped it didn’t haunt her for years, too). Leaning into Hen in the middle of the street and feeling her body lean back into him.
He took Buck’s truck keys and drove them back to the house after. He will not remember that later, either. They must have put something on the radio but he will not remember what, or how long they sat in traffic, or stopping for takeout Indian, or getting home after dusk. He will remember getting home and taking off his suit and sitting next to Buck on the couch in shorts and undershirt, both of them breathing and staring at nothing, only one lamp turned on. He will remember setting his water bottle down and slumping over, resting his head on Buck’s shoulder, pinning his left arm between them. He will remember feeling Buck’s answering shuddering sigh reverberate through his body, then the spark of joy of feeling Buck leaning right back into him.
He will remember closing his eyes for a moment, inhaling the smell of Buck, the sweat of a long day in heavy wool worn outside and the faded aftershave smell clinging to the collar of his t-shirt. He will remember the warm wall of him under Eddie’s cheek and along his side, and the weight of his huge arm when he finally brought it up around Eddie’s back to fold him in closer.
They sat like that for a long time. Eddie kept his eyes closed and listened to Buck’s heartbeat. He’d been obsessed with it for a long time. It had stopped once and Eddie was the one that made it start again, and he’d never once doubted that it beat for him afterward.
There was a creak somewhere else in the house, maybe the gutter along the back wall that Eddie had fixed himself more than once rather than bother his landlord about. He opened his eyes, the steady drumroll of Buck’s heart still in his ear. He’d left his carry-on in front of the fireplace earlier, still flung open to show its guts, and he’d tossed the parts of his suit he could no longer stand against his skin into a heap on top. Eddie did not like mess. His fingers twitched against Buck’s thigh where he’d rested his hand, itching to tidy up already, regretting his carelessness only minutes later.
He felt Buck twitch in response, his thick quadriceps jumping under Eddie’s fingers, making his hand slip from its light resting spot at the edge of his boxers. His fingertips grazed through Buck’s leg hair, over a tattoo he didn’t remember, landing between his thighs. Buck sucked in a breath under him. His heartbeat sped up. Eddie could hear it as well as feel it.
He left his hand where it landed. He flexed his fingers. He spread them out more. He flexed them again, palming the muscle. Buck let his breath out shakily. His heart beat faster still.
Eddie looked down, watched his own right thumb trace the bottom hem of Buck’s boxer leg, the slightly raised double stitch rough against a fingertip that was losing its hard-won work calluses. He watched Buck’s thigh muscles bunch and twitch under the touch. He felt like he was somewhere on the ceiling.
Buck let out a long breath. Eddie closed his eyes as his chest deflated. He listened to the air whistling through his lungs and bronchial tubes. And then he lifted his head, looking up at his face. Buck’s face was frozen, eyes wide and still fixed ahead. Eddie sat up, shivering as Buck’s arm fell from his shoulder and his hand dragged across Eddie’s back.
That got Buck to blink, to look at him finally. They stared. Buck’s mouth was slightly open, his lower lip wet, and Eddie watched Buck’s breathing hitch when he realized where Eddie’s gaze had fallen. He felt Buck’s hand press between his shoulder blades then the drag of his fingers as he gathered up a handful of fabric, bunching up Eddie’s t-shirt in a fist. He swallowed and watched Buck watch his throat. He watched Buck’s Adam’s apple bob in unison. He let his gaze drift down, over his neckline where one collarbone was visible, over the stretch of white material across his chest, thin enough he could see the shadows of tattoos and his nipples, then lower. The bulk of Buck’s torso made Eddie feel small. He shivered again, gaze drifting over his stomach where it hung slightly over his waistband, down his thighs where his own hand was still notched, then back up a few inches to rest between them.
Buck inhaled again as Eddie moved his hand higher, dragging over the fabric but with intent. Buck was getting hard. He could tell. His boxers were gray and older, probably a size too small for how jacked he’d gotten in the last year. There wasn’t enough fabric to hide it, and Eddie was glad. He wanted to touch. He wanted to anchor himself somehow.
He looked up at Buck’s face again. He watched his lashes flutter then close as Eddie finally pressed his palm into Buck’s cock, cupping him through his boxers. He watched Buck’s lips part to let a breath out. He pressed harder, laying his thumb along the length of him and squeezing with his fingers, tracing the shape and the weight. He leaned in and tucked his face into Buck’s neck, inhaling the smell of him again, but he kept his eyes open. He watched his hand, and the growing wet spot on the gray fabric as he touched him, and the steady rise and fall of Buck’s chest as Buck breathed and let him. He could feel Buck’s pulse against his nose, his carotid pressed against the bone.
He exhaled and Buck shivered at the wind of his breath. He inhaled and Buck shivered as Eddie’s hand slipped inside his boxers. He held his breath as he wrapped his fingers around Buck’s shaft, hot bare skin on hot bare skin. Buck kept breathing and Eddie kept touching.
Eddie bit his own lower lip and he hoped Buck was watching, but he didn’t look up. He watched his hand moving under the fabric, the shadow where his wrist disappeared inside. It was dry until he slid his palm up to the tip. He blinked when he found him wet there already, shifting his own hips as he realized he was getting wet himself. He pulled his hand back and lifted it, blinking dazedly at it.
Buck made a soft sound and he looked up. Buck raised his eyebrows, then ducked his head and spat right in the middle of Eddie’s palm. Then he sat back and closed his eyes again, squeezing like it hurt.
Eddie sat up straighter, freeing his other hand. He carefully reached down to shove Buck’s boxers out of his way, tugging on the elastic waistband until Buck lifted his hips, then pushing them down enough to stop below his balls. Buck tugged them the rest of the way and then kicked them aside.
Eddie hadn’t had a cock in his hand in fifteen years. Or in his mouth. Or inside him. He barely remembered the last time. It had only meant something then because Eddie had a baby afterward. He hadn’t really thought much about penises in the ensuing fifteen years, to be honest. They had become mostly theoretical. He stared at Buck’s, heavy and thick against his thigh. He swallowed hard as he stared at it, then decided that yes, he wanted this one. He would remember that vividly later.
He reached over, palm still slick with Buck’s spit, and touched it. He wrapped his hand around it first, smearing his spit over his skin. He leaned over and added some of his own, then looked back at Buck’s face as he started pumping his hand.
Buck looked back at him, eyes wide and lips parted. He nodded, and Eddie felt himself nod back. He looked down, watching his hand moving. It was wet and easy then. But he was not right-handed and the grip felt awkward with the wrong hand. He sat up, then made a frustrated sound and moved over, slinging a leg over Buck’s thighs to straddle him instead.
Buck let out a surprised sound, both hands coming up to rest on Eddie’s waist to steady him. Eddie scooted closer on his knees, then spat in his left palm instead. He groaned at how Buck’s grip tightened on his sides when he touched him again, at how natural it suddenly felt.
He let go only once, when Buck started pushing his shirt up, helping shove it up and then off. As soon as he was free, he had that cock in his hand again. Buck’s hands were just as greedy, sliding over Eddie’s skin wherever he could reach. They were still rough from the privilege of a job where he got to use them, scuffing along Eddie’s ribs in a way that made his whole body tremble. Buck urged him closer and he went gladly, scooting as close as he could, his own crotch only an inch from Buck’s balls. He wondered if Buck could feel the heat of him through his own shorts. His hips twitched, grinding down on nothing.
Buck leaned in and licked a stripe up Eddie’s neck, tracing his pulse point and the tendon standing out as he moved his arm, and he nudged Eddie just far enough to one side to give them both more room for what they wanted. Eddie gasped as he finally found something to rub himself against, the hard muscle of Buck’s thigh pressing against him. Buck bit down on his shoulder and groaned, his own hips hitching up to thrust his cock into Eddie’s hand.
Eddie swallowed and nodded, mostly to himself. His shorts were soaked, he realized. So wet they stuck to Buck’s skin. But the rough wet fabric felt so good against his own flesh, a thought that made him shudder again. He rocked his hips, chasing that friction.
Buck froze for a moment, then huffed a laugh. “Forgot about that,” he mumbled, voice so low maybe Eddie imagined it, then shook his head. He tugged on the elastic of Eddie’s shorts, shoving both hands under and kneading Eddie’s ass with both palms.
Eddie moaned, the loudest sound either of them had made, arching his spine and letting Buck control how his hips moved. He kept his hand moving, grip tight and fast on Buck’s cock. He looked down between them, watching the wet pink head disappearing through his fingers. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen that before. He barely remembered anything from those handful of fumbles in high school.
He panted against Buck’s shoulder and ground his dick against Buck’s thigh and then made the decision. He lifted his head and looked him in the eye, then let go of his cock. He set it against Buck’s stomach gently, like he was promising to come back, then he reached back with both hands, gripping Buck’s wrists to pull his hands off of him. They both moaned at the loss, but Eddie wanted out of his shorts. He wanted to sink down on Buck’s beautiful cock, to stretch his pussy around it and feel his heartbeat inside him.
He sat, both of them scrambling to push Eddie’s boxers down over his hips, tipping to one side and then the other as they shoved them down his thighs and then over his knees. Somehow it wasn’t awkward. Once he was free, he pushed Buck’s t-shirt up and off as well, resting both hands lightly on Buck’s huge pecs. Eddie had been a three-sport athlete in high school, too muscular and active to have any body fat. He’d rarely even menstruated, and he’d barely had any breasts at all. Even after Eddie had a baby, the surgeon who did his top surgery didn’t have to do much. And now, a decade on testosterone later, he stayed flat. But Buck’s chest was enormous, plush under his hands. He traced his fingers across the word DEATH tattooed across one, ignoring the GLORY, then kneaded his pecs with both hands.
Buck seemed to be having the same thoughts about Eddie’s ass, his own hands immediately gripping both cheeks as soon as they were both free of the last bits of clothing. Eddie leaned back enough to raise his eyebrows at him and got to watch Buck blush, his birthmark turning even redder. Eddie wrapped one hand around the back of Buck’s head, fingers buried in his curls, and leaned in to brush his lips across it, making a soft sound at the heat of his skin and the taste of his sweat. He could feel Buck’s mouth as well, wet tongue dragging down his throat. The rasp of his stubble must have felt weird, but Buck only moaned, then again when Eddie rocked his weight down and the hot length of his cock pressed right up against Eddie’s vulva.
Eddie shifted and reached down between them, dragging his knuckles over the underside of Buck’s cock as he touched himself. He was wet, his own dick throbbing at attention, folds already parted from the position spread astride Buck’s thighs. He rubbed himself, moaning softly at the relief, then watched Buck’s face as he gently tested how easy the stretch would be with one finger. Buck’s eyes were wide, practically colorless in the dim room, lashes low as he stared down between their bodies. Eddie hadn’t had anything bigger than his own fingers in so long, and never anything as thick as Buck in his life, although Marisol’s strap had been close. But he was determined. They were alive. They were in the same place. He was so tired, and he thought Buck must be, too.
He fucked himself a few times, moaning softly, then pulled his hand back to check his fingers. He was wet enough, he decided. He looked up when Buck made a soft sound, then made one of his own when Buck gently grabbed his wrist and brought his hand up to his mouth. He stared with what had to be wide-eyed shock as Buck’s tongue traced up the inside of his middle finger before he sucked both that and his ring finger into his mouth. Buck kept eye contact as he did it, cheeks hollowing as he sucked on them.
Buck moaned and they both nodded. Eddie left his fingers there, pressed down on Buck’s tongue. He lifted up, shifting forward while Buck helped out, his own hand wrapped around the base of his cock.
The first blunt press of the head against him was a shock. He jerked in surprise. It slid up through his folds and slipped out before he could sink down, both of them groaning in frustration as it grazed over Eddie’s dick instead. Eddie could feel Buck’s moan against his fingertips, vibrating up his arm. He was already trembling.
Buck rested his other hand on Eddie’s flank, petting soothingly a few times. Eddie took a deep breath and nodded, then looked down and lifted up on his knees again. This time Buck’s cock caught without slipping away. It burned slightly as Eddie sunk down, stretching muscles he hadn’t used in a while and rarely even then.
He pulled his fingers out of Buck’s mouth, smearing his spit over Buck’s chin and resting his hand on his shoulder for balance, rocking his hips until he was fully seated.
Neither of them said a word, staring at each other wide-eyed. Buck looked terrified. Eddie was, too. Fully impaled, his thighs hugging Buck’s hips, ass resting on his tattoos, tears on both their cheeks. He rocked his hips, slow and tentative at first, testing the stretch. Buck gasped and gripped Eddie’s waist with both hands.
Eddie closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, clenching down and releasing, feeling Buck’s answering moan through his palms. He rolled his hips again and they both moaned, then again and again until they were both panting into each other’s mouths. Buck was going to leave little fingerprint bruises on his hips to match the shape of his mouth on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie lifted up and let himself sink back down, gasping when Buck thrust up inside him at the same time.
Buck tightened his grip, holding Eddie still and leaning back for leverage so he could thrust up, hard and sharp and perfect, over and over. Eddie held onto his shoulders for dear life. His toes curled. He tipped forward, pressing his wet face into Buck’s neck, his chest heaving. They were both crying, he realized as something dripped from Buck’s jaw to land on his face. It wasn’t sweat. It tasted different.
He muffled a sob into Buck’s skin and wrapped his arms around his neck, clinging harder. Buck kept thrusting, his grip on Eddie’s hips tight and punishing. The thick length of him felt so good inside that Eddie thought he might melt away and become something pooled on the ground under the couch.
Buck grunted and shoved in to the hilt, holding him still. He could feel Buck’s cock pulse inside of him, almost like it swelled even bigger, and then he realized Buck was coming. The pressure inside changed a little and he could feel the warmth. After a few pulses, Buck relaxed his grip and Eddie could rock his hips slightly, groaning at the slipperiness. Buck grunted again then slipped one hand between them. Eddie groaned and sunk his teeth into Buck’s shoulder when he felt his fingers against his own dick. He rocked his hips, chasing the sensation, and Buck whimpered.
He came quickly like that, all of Buck still inside him, both of them shaking. Buck clamped a hand on the back of Eddie’s neck and held him close, cradled to his chest, his other hand rubbing up and down his spine, while Eddie clutched at him wherever he could reach.
Their sweat cooled and dried, and eventually both of them were shivering in earnest. Eddie pulled back, sitting on his heels as he carefully extracted himself. Buck’s spent cock slapped wetly against his thigh, glossy and streaked with white. Eddie looked down and groaned as some of his come leaked out of him and dripped down onto Buck’s cock, pooling in a little hollow created by one of the veins on his shaft. He clenched his muscles, trying to avoid making a mess, and took the t-shirt Buck offered him with a limp arm gratefully, quickly wiping Buck clean then dabbing between his legs. He got up, wobbling on his feet, then hobbled toward the bathroom, hip flexors screaming.
The leather of the couch squeaked and groaned as Buck got up, and he could hear Buck following him down the hallway.
“We are not both going to fit in this shower,” he said over his shoulder.
Buck huffed. “I’m going to piss, if that’s all right with you,” he said.
Eddie stepped into the shower stall to let Buck brush past him into the bathroom. Then he listened for the clink of the seat being lifted and then the stream of Buck’s urine. He reached out and shut the bathroom door, then turned on the shower, though he didn’t close the curtain yet. He hissed at the first burst of cold water, still shivering even as it got hot, leaning against the tiled wall of the stall.
He could feel Buck’s come dripping out, sliding down his thigh. He looked down and watched it rinse away, then looked up to see Buck standing there in the doorway and watching, too.
“Is that okay?” Buck asked haltingly, still staring at Eddie’s thigh.
Eddie shrugged then frowned. “Unless there’s something I should be concerned about,” he said. He cocked his head.
Buck’s eyes widened and he shook his head immediately. “No, no. I’m clean. I got tested after the last time I—Yeah. I’m clean.”
Eddie nodded. “Then it’s fine.” He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his neck, letting the hot water pound against his chest. Buck was still watching, one forearm braced on the edge of the stall. It was easy for Eddie to reach for him and tug him in, and Buck didn’t fight it. He tugged the curtain closed behind him, sealing them in with the steam filling the space.
The stall was small, made smaller by the accessibility bars still installed on the walls, and their skin touched no matter where they stood. Buck settled for standing behind him, one arm wrapped loosely around him and his chin resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie washed the gel and sweat from his hair and leaned back into the solid wall of Buck’s body, letting him take his weight. Buck was more than willing, maybe even desperate for it, coughing once when he got a mouthful of shampoo when he tried to nuzzle behind Eddie’s ear.
Eddie turned around in the circle of his arms and reached up to wash Buck’s hair as well, smiling shyly up at him first then exhaling in relief when Buck nodded. They shuffled around again so Buck could rinse, then Eddie found himself pushed face first into the wall, tile cold against his cheek and Buck’s cock hot and hard and insistent against the cleft of his ass.
The second time was just as fast and hard as the first, Buck pinning him in place and pounding him. It was wetter and sloppier this time, Eddie loose and eager, and Buck lasted longer. Long enough for him to wrap one arm around Eddie’s waist and slide his hand down between his legs. He rubbed Eddie in time with his thrusts, playing with his dick with the practiced ease of someone who’d made a lot of pussies come over the years and was eager to show off his skills. Eddie, for one, was eager to let him. He got off twice more before Buck finally thrust in as deep as he could and came, panting hard in Eddie’s ear.
Buck pulled out and rinsed off, then stepped out of the stall first. Eddie stayed there against the wall for a minute, bracing himself in the aftermath both literally and metaphorically. He was wet all over, the hot shower still spraying over his side, but even wetter between his legs. It was a novel, almost alien sensation.
He’d only been with Chris’s other biological parent a handful of times, all of them fumbling in the dark in friends’ bedrooms at parties the fall and winter of his senior year. Chris was conceived at a party during Thanksgiving break, where Eddie was more interested in finally losing his virginity and proving to himself he wasn’t a lesbian than anything. Neither of them had been particularly into each other and definitely neither of them had any idea what they were doing. And once Eddie was pregnant and kicked out of Catholic school and reeling as the entire trajectory of his life changed, he wasn’t trying to hook up with anyone else with a cock. So he never did.
He stood there, trembling again, and listened to Buck fumbling around in the bathroom, the sound of the sink and maybe tooth-brushing. And then eventually Buck left the room, closing the door gently behind himself.
Eddie turned off the water and gingerly made his way to the toilet, sitting down still dripping wet all over. He pulled a towel down from a hook and pressed his face into it, and only then did he finally let himself cry.
He was sore all over and feeling wrung out by the time he finally opened the bathroom door. The light was on in Buck’s bedroom and he looked in, spotting Buck sitting at the end of his bed, dressed in a fresh hoodie and some basketball shorts. He stood up when he heard the door, looking nervous, then he picked up a pile of clothes from the bed.
“Uh, here. I figured you’d be more comfortable in some sweats. I poked in your suitcase and you barely brought anything.” He looked vaguely embarrassed at that.
“Oh, thanks,” Eddie said. He came into the bedroom, glancing around. It was uncanny to see different furniture in the same spots. Buck had changed the sconces, though. That was a little weird. He took the bundle of clothes from Buck and pawed through it, pleased with Buck’s choices, and then he set it down on the bed so he could drop the towel around his waist to get dressed.
Buck stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him. They’d been undressing and dressing in front of each other for so long that it wasn’t awkward even after everything that was different now, Bobby dead and Eddie gone and Buck having come inside him twice in the span of half an hour. Eddie pulled up the provided joggers and pulled the dark green t-shirt over his head, then followed Buck out to the kitchen where he was reheating their abandoned Indian food.
They sat on the couch in their old familiar spots to eat, elbows just barely brushing. They watched an honest to god Hallmark movie, because Buck put it on as a joke and then they both got invested in Lacy Chabert’s love life. Eddie fell asleep on the couch partway through whatever had come on next.
He woke up in the morning tucked under a soft orange blanket he didn’t remember from Buck’s loft, the first gray rays of dawn on his face. He blinked blearily around and sat up. Buck had cleaned up their takeout containers and straightened up the room around him, had found him a blanket and made sure he was comfortable. He rubbed his face with both hands miserably, then he got up to start some coffee.
He nibbled on some leftover naan as the coffee brewed, straight from the foil it was wrapped in. It was chewier than Eddie liked. He preferred paratha, generally. Buck usually remembered things like that. Eddie was a fairly adventurous eater, always ready to try something new. There weren’t many things he didn’t like, but they were usually texture-based.
Buck wandered in eventually, squinting at him suspiciously when he found him sitting at the corner desk under the window. “Paying my bills?” Buck asked.
“I feel like I didn’t appreciate this corner enough when I lived here. The light is good,” Eddie said. He picked up his coffee and took a sip.
“I have literally never sat in that chair,” Buck admitted as he poured his own cup. He leaned back against the counter and stared into space. There was a tupperware of some kind of muffins on the island. Eddie had already eaten all the crumpets.
“Thanks for tucking me in on the couch,” Eddie said after a moment of watching him dissociate.
Buck snorted. “I tried to make you take the bed but you got mean about it.”
“Yeah, that sounds like me,” Eddie agreed with a shrug.
“No, it doesn’t,” Buck said.
Eddie looked up at him, frowning. “What did I say?”
“What’s one night of twenty feet down a hallway after four months of eight hundred miles,” Buck said, but it didn’t sound like a quote. It didn’t sound like something Eddie would give a voice. Eddie sealed thoughts like that in lead and buried them deep.
“Buck,” Eddie said, sitting up straighter. The chair creaked. Maybe there was a reason Buck never sat there.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Buck said, shoulders dropping. He twisted and set his coffee down behind him. “I’m just… sorry.”
“I’m always sorry,” Eddie said. “Even when I don’t know what. I just know there’s probably something I should be sorry for.” He kept his voice light. He didn’t want to have this conversation. This felt like a Bobby conversation. He didn’t want to talk about guilt.
“Eddie—” Buck started, then he cut himself off and shook his head. “I just missed you,” he said instead.
“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly. “Me too.”
He got dressed, jeans and a flannel stolen from Buck’s closet, then dragged him out of the house. They needed a distraction. They wandered around Griffith Park for a while, lost a few hours to the Autry Museum then watched excited kids feed ponies. Neither of them spoke much, but Eddie was content enough to bump their shoulders together as they walked. Being in Buck’s orbit was enough.
They still had leftover Indian at the house so they headed home to eat. Buck off-handedly mentioned he needed groceries but Eddie argued for instacart.
“They always get something wrong,” Buck complained.
“Oh no, then you have to be creative,” Eddie deadpanned. Then he grinned. “Like the bean.”
Buck stared back, equally deadpan. “One green bean, Eddie. One. Single. Green. Bean. Not one pound. One bean.”
The bean incident was legendary. Eddie and Chris had laughed until they cried. Eddie had to sit on the floor, he was laughing so hard. Chris wheezed and soaked his shirt with tears of laughter. Eventually, even Buck had laughed. The store charged the beans by weight, so he only paid two cents for his single green bean.
They sat at the dining table to eat, for some reason. The bay window was bright with sunlight in there, maybe, and it didn't feel like an insult today. It just felt warm. Eddie watched Buck across the table, almost golden in that light, and committed it to memory for later, when he was back in Texas and lonely. When sunlight just hurt his eyes and burned his skin.
He blinked and realized Buck was looking back. Tongue poked out slightly, eyes soft. Like maybe he was doing the same thing.
“What?” Eddie asked, looking down to make sure he hadn't dripped raita on his shirt.
Buck’s lashes fluttered and he looked away, a shadow slipping back over his face. Eddie’s stomach twisted. “Nothing,” Buck said. “Just thinking about nothing.”
Eddie scoffed but stood up, collecting his trash. Buck pushed his own plate away but stayed in his seat, staring at his empty placemat long after Eddie cleared his plate. Eddie left him there and rigidly scraped the plates into the garbage and rinsed them in the sink.
Buck came in behind him and got something out of the fridge. He set a bottle of kombucha on the counter next to the sink, elbow bumping Eddie’s as he bent down to open the dishwasher for a glass. “You want some?” he asked when he noticed Eddie watching him.
Eddie made a face. “That stuff tastes like vinegar,” he said.
“No, this one is good,” Buck swore, picking up the bottle and sticking it under Eddie’s nose. “See? Ginger peach flavor. It works with the funk.”
“That's all yours, bud,” Eddie said, recoiling. He turned off the faucet and reached for a dish towel to dry his hands.
Buck poured himself a glass then stuck the bottle back in the fridge. He leaned against the counter and took a sip, watching Eddie over the rim of his glass.
“What?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms.
“How long are you staying?” Buck asked. “I’ll drive you to the airport this time. I want to.”
Eddie swallowed and hugged himself tighter. “I'm staying as long as everyone needs me,” he said. He swallowed again and tipped his chin up, watching Buck’s face closely. “Especially you.”
Buck flinched and looked away. “Then you'd never leave,” he said softly.
“So maybe I won’t,” Eddie agreed. Buck made another wounded sound and he set the glass down with a clink, closing the distance between them and trapping Eddie against the sink, boxing him in with both arms.
“Don't say that, Eddie. Don't say that,” he said, eyes wide and wet.
“Okay. So forget I said it,” Eddie said. He ducked under his arm and headed for the door, and got barely four strides away before Buck caught him. Buck grabbed him by the waist with both hands and pulled him close, banded him with both arms against his chest. He inhaled sharply, startled, and felt Buck do the same against his pulse point.
“Don’t leave,” Buck said. He walked them forward another two steps, then bent Eddie over the counter just inside the door to the dining room. Eddie pitched forward, nearly braining himself on the edge of the top cabinet, hands squeaking on the tile. Buck kicked his feet apart, hands still spread wide around his waist. He pressed up behind him and slid his hands around to the front, unbuckling Eddie’s belt then unbuttoning his jeans. Eddie sucked in his stomach and arched his back, shoved his ass back against Buck’s pelvis and groaned when he felt him hard and urgent.
He batted Buck’s hands away. “Worry about your own pants,” he grunted, shoving his zipper down then pushing his jeans and underwear both over his hips and down toward his knees. His buckle clinked against the cupboard door. Buck’s scraped against his bare ass.
He could feel the edges of Buck’s hand, his knuckles and his wrist, as he pumped his cock a few times, and then he felt the wet head slide between his thighs. “Eddie—”
“Come on, fuck me,” Eddie said, cutting him off. “I want it.”
Buck groaned in response but managed to line up properly and push inside. “Fuck, you feel good,” he murmured against the nape of Eddie’s neck. He flattened one hand low on Eddie’s stomach, tracing his thumb up the line of Eddie’s happy trail. Eddie stood up straighter, nearly braining himself on the upper cabinet a second time and caring even less as his shoulder blades pressed into Buck’s chest.
“C’mon, Buckley,” he said, tipping his head back onto Buck’s shoulder as Buck’s other hand palmed greedily over his hipbone.
Buck made an odd sound then gripped his hips and set a punishing pace, letting go just once to shove Eddie flat against the counter with one huge hand in the middle of his back. He found his rhythm again then bent over him so he was panting right in Eddie’s ear. Eddie closed his eyes and rolled his hips back, fucking himself as much as he was being fucked and blotting out everything else.
Buck whimpered his name, right in the hollow behind his ear, and thrust in to the hilt when he came. Eddie clenched down and let him rub him off while he was still buried inside him.
And then Buck pulled out but didn’t step back. He was gripping the edge of the counter next to Eddie’s hip so hard his knuckles were white, and Eddie stared down at that hand for a long time as he listened to Buck breathing behind him. He could feel his come starting to drip out and he shifted his hips, bare ass brushing against Buck’s jeans. His own were barely shoved down his thighs, the waistband of his black briefs tight above his knees. His shirt was rucked up enough that the tile was warming under his skin. He couldn’t decide if it felt better or worse that they were barely even undressed.
“Fuck,” Buck said softly, then again a little louder. Eddie pushed up straighter, balancing his weight in both hands on the counter, pressing his back into the hot cushion of Buck’s front. Buck’s other hand slid down from where it had been gripping Eddie’s shoulder, making them both shudder as his palm rasped over Eddie’s skin where it was bared, shirt rucked up above his waist. He moved it slowly, like he was savoring the feeling of Eddie under him, counting his ribs with his fingertips. Eddie’s muscles twitched under his skin. He squeezed his thighs together and they slid easily with how wet he was, his own juices and Buck’s load as well. He wanted more already.
Buck’s nose brushed against the shell of his ear and Eddie immediately tipped his head to the side. Buck gasped, which Eddie felt more than heard, Buck’s chest jumping against his back. Eddie pushed his ass against him again, moaning as Buck’s tongue found his skin. His tongue and then just a soft brush of his lips along the tendon on the side of his neck, his hand tracing the curve of Eddie’s iliac crest before resting on his stomach, Eddie’s turn to gasp. He was louder, both of them shuddering. He could feel Buck’s cock twitch wetly against his ass.
He sucked the breath back in as Buck’s hand drifted lower, tracing his happy trail teasingly before the pad of his middle finger pressed right over Eddie’s engorged dick. Eddie could feel the question in the touch and he nodded, exhaling again as Buck’s fingers started circling. His fingertip was smooth but he had calluses further down towards his palm from handling equipment at work and the brush of them over Eddie’s flesh made them both moan, Eddie louder again as Buck pushed two of his big fingers back inside him.
“Fuck, Eddie,” Buck panted against his neck. “We made a mess.”
Eddie nodded, clenching around his fingers. He looked down again at Buck’s hand on the counter, staring at the edge of Buck’s orange sleeve where it covered the back of his wrist. “Who’s ‘we?’” he asked, swallowing when his voice came out hoarse.
Buck pushed his fingers deeper. It made a wet squelching sound and Eddie moaned, grinding his hips into the touch, rubbing into Buck’s palm. “Mm, I didn’t do this all on my own,” he clucked. He kissed below Eddie’s ear again.
“Most of it,” Eddie panted. He could feel the trickle of wetness sliding down his thigh.
Buck kept his fingers moving, pressing too light for Eddie to get close to coming, too shallow to even feel full. “You were soaked, Eddie,” he said. “So wet I slid right in.”
Eddie gasped as Buck finally pushed his fingers in deeper. “That’s how it’s supposed to work.”
“Fuck, Eddie,” he groaned. “Can I call it your pussy?” Eddie nodded furiously, clenching down on his fingers again. He’d never been precious about his terminology, bothered more by the fussiness of long awkward phrases other trans men used for their anatomy. Eddie was too impatient for that, and too disinterested in arguing about theory. He was simply a man with a pussy, and that was the fifteenth most interesting thing about him in his opinion.
Buck found a rhythm, faster and deeper, and Eddie ground his dick into his palm. “Fuck, it was already so wet,” Buck said, “and now it’s even sloppier.”
Eddie nodded, letting his head tip back onto Buck’s shoulder again. “That’s still not my fault,” he managed to say. “It can only get so wet on its own. I had—fuck, right there, right there!—I had help.”
Buck was so good at following directions, Eddie thought dimly. He could hear his voice go higher and higher as Buck found the perfect spot inside him, cracking like a middle schooler’s, and he begged for more.
“Fuck, it sounds good,” Buck groaned. It did. It was loud and wet. “Especially knowing why. My come in there. Both of us.”
Eddie whimpered. His cheeks immediately got hot with embarrassment at the sound, then at the fact that was what finally made him blush. He could see it in the reflection on the glass panes of cabinet door. “Buck,” he whined.
“Pussy’s sloppy and greedy, huh?” Buck said, not losing his rhythm. Eddie sagged forward, catching his weight with both hands on the counter as he rode Buck’s hand. He barely heard the words still coming out of Buck’s mouth. “You came on my cock, got fucked full of my come, now you still want to come again on my fingers?”
“I do,” Eddie panted. His palms were both sealed flat to the counter with sweat, his arms barely supporting him at that point. His elbows both quivered. “Please.”
Buck hummed thoughtfully then he pulled his fingers out completely. Eddie couldn’t help the wail of protest he let out. Buck stepped closer again, his cock slippping right between Eddie’s cheeks, the zipper of his jeans digging into the back of Eddie’s thigh. He squirmed but he was pinned there, hemmed in by the edge of the counter and Buck’s arm along his side.
Buck nuzzled his neck again. “Look what a mess,” he said, lifting his hand. He twisted his fingers and rubbed them together like a cricket’s legs. Both were coated from tip to knuckle in a sheen and splotched with Buck’s come. Eddie licked his lips and swallowed hard, watching. Buck slid his thumb up the inside of his middle finger, testing the stickiness, pulling shiny little webs between his fingers.
Eddie swallowed again as Buck’s hand came closer. He squeezed his thighs together again in anticipation. He opened his mouth. And then Buck brought his fingers to his own lips, sucking them noisily right next to Eddie’s ear. Eddie shivered against him, feeling small and desperate.
“Fuck, of course you taste good,” Buck complained.
“Yeah?” Eddie said, breathless, tipping his head to the side when Buck immediately turned his face into Eddie’s neck and nodded.
“It tastes like both of us,” Buck said, voice low right in his ear. “I know what I taste like. So I can tell what’s you.” He bit the edge of Eddie’s trapezius then dug his chin against his shoulder. “And you—fuck, Eddie. You taste so good.”
Eddie’s spine arched, pressing his ass back against him again, feeling Buck’s half-hard cock sliding between his cheeks. He nodded. “You want more of that?” he panted, turning his face to the side so Buck could see the edge of his smile.
Buck groaned. “Yeah? You want my mouth?” Eddie shuddered against him and nodded. Buck squeezed his waist with both hands, one dry and one still wet with spit, pinning him to the counter edge again and thrusting his hips. “Or should I just fuck you again?”
Eddie swallowed and nodded. “Do whatever you want to me,” he said quietly, bending back down over the counter to rest his weight on his forearms and lifting his ass.
“Fuck,” Buck said with feeling and then dropped to his knees. He slapped one of Eddie’s cheeks then kneaded it with his hand, then repeated the action on the other side while Eddie arched and moaned and tried to squeeze his thighs together even harder to keep everything from leaking out all over the place.
Buck gently pushed Eddie’s pants down, past his knees and calves and then over his feet. He set the clump of fabric aside then slid both hands back up the same path, hot rough palms against his skin this time. He pressed his mouth, open and wet, against the back of one of his thighs, dragged his teeth over the edge of muscle, then reached up and arranged Eddie exactly how he wanted him so he could press his face between his cheeks.
The sounds he made, moaning and sucking and licking, made Eddie’s legs shake. The feel of his mouth, first on his asshole and then forward, his nose mashed more or less to Eddie’s taint as he sucked his own come out of him. Buck wrapped one arm around Eddie’s thigh and lifted his leg out of the way so he could reach his dick, lapping over it then sucking, his tongue still moving along the underside where he was a bit less sensitive. Like he knew how welcome that would be.
“Fucking hell, who taught you how to eat pussy,” Eddie groaned, reaching back to grab Buck’s hair. “Fuck, I love her,” he added. “I owe her a fruit basket.”
Buck huffed a laugh straight into him, the puff of air a shock. He moaned and shoved back against his face.
He made Eddie come again, eager and shameless about it, sucking him so noisily it echoed in the kitchen. And then he just kept going. Eventually, Eddie had to push him away, first with one hand and then with a foot to his sternum.
He turned around shakily and looked down, gripping the counter edge with both hands. Buck sat back on his heels, hands on his thighs, blinking up at him. He was a mess from cheekbones to neck, shining and soaked. There was a streak of his own come across his chin. Eddie’s legs gave out and he sank to his knees, reaching out blindly and pulling Buck in by the t-shirt and kissing him sloppily. Their first real kiss, his tongue in Buck’s mouth seeking out their combined taste as desperately as Buck had licked it out of Eddie’s cunt.
Buck wrapped both arms around him, hands scrambling up his back, and kissed him just as hard. Eddie moaned, clawing himself closer. Buck let himself fall backwards, settling on the floor, and Eddie climbed on top of him barely breaking the kiss.
It was the worst kiss of his life, objectively, as he kept missing Buck’s mouth as he chased more of the taste of himself across Buck’s cheeks and jaw. He knew what he tasted like, too. And now he knew what was Buck and what was him.
“Fuck,” Buck panted when Eddie finally sat up to catch his breath. He looked down between them, Eddie’s shirt rucked up around his ribs, both of Buck’s hands on his bare waist again. Eddie reached down to grab the shirt hem, pulling it up over his head then tossing it aside. Buck blinked up at him like he’d punched him in the jaw, dazed and elsewhere. Eddie rocked his hips, gasping when he remembered he was naked and he could grind down on Buck’s glorious stomach.
Buck reached up and pulled Eddie back down, a hand tight to the back of his neck, kissing him again. Eddie bit his lip then soothed it with his tongue, swallowing both of Buck’s answering moans greedily. He braced himself over him, both palms flat on the floor on either side of his head, leverage to kiss him and leverage to grind his hips down. The friction was perfect, and even better when Buck grabbed two handfuls of his ass and pressed him down harder. He gasped into Buck’s mouth then lifted his head slightly.
“How fast can you go again?” he panted.
“Not as fast as you,” Buck panted back, lifting his head to try to look down between their bodies. “But pretty fast.”
Eddie had never been this desperate for it in his life. Not as a horny teenager, not with Shannon, not with the handful of other women he’d slept with over the years.
He pushed off the floor reluctantly and sat up, shifting backwards until he could feel Buck’s pubic hair scratching against him. Buck made a wheezing sound and let his own skull clunk back to the floor.
“Gonna kill me,” Buck said.
“Gonna kill me if I don’t get that cock back in me,” Eddie said, reaching back to touch it. His forearm brushed against the back of Buck’s hand where he was still clutching Eddie’s ass, and Eddie smirked down at him when Buck’s whole body shuddered under him. His cock twitched under Eddie’s hand, still mostly soft but maybe showing some interest. He peeled it gently off his thigh and gave it the lightest squeeze, making Buck groan again and jerk his hips under the weight of Eddie’s whole body. “Forgot how weird penises feel soft,” he said thoughtfully, stroking his thumb up the underside and tracing a vein.
“Eddie,” Buck whined. He flexed all ten fingers, squeezing both of Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie laid his cock back down very delicately then leaned down to kiss him again.
They went another round right there on the floor as soon as Buck was hard enough not to slip back out. They went several more over the course of that day and the next. Eddie gave his first blowjob since he was seventeen, and Buck was very patient to let him explore and play around as long as he did. By the time Buck went back to work four days later, they were both exhausted and sore and bruised.
Eddie spent the first day without Buck helping Pepa out around the house, trying not to visibly wince when he moved certain ways. Pepa caught him once while he was crawling under her bathroom sink and folded her arms over her chest, giving him a knowing look. He flapped a dismissive hand at her and asked her to pass him a flathead screwdriver. And then a different flathead screwdriver when the first one was too big.
When he checked his phone later in the bathroom alone while Pepa cooked dinner, he had a text from Hen, a photo of Buck passed out cold on the couch in the loft, Chimney sitting next to him flashing a peace sign. ‘What did you do to him?’ she asked.
Eddie scoffed, glad no one was watching his cheeks burn bright red. ‘He sleeps on the loft couch all the time’ he replied.
She sent back a full two-minute-long voice message of Buck snoring and herself sighing. Eddie smiled smugly to himself, tap-backed a heart, and then cleaned himself up and re-joined Pepa.
“Not that I am sorry to see your face in my house, Edmundo, but what is your plan?” she said once the meat was in the oven and they were sitting down at her kitchen table, stirring her cup of coffee with the tiniest silver spoon Eddie had ever seen.
“I’m going to stay a little longer,” he said primly, sitting up straighter under her gaze.
“Yes, you said that. To share your grief and support your old teammates. Especially Buck?” she added, raising her eyebrows.
He avoided her gaze, staring down into his own coffee. “He and Bobby were very close. Buck’s parents are terrible, so he sort of latched onto Bobby as a pseudo father figure. And Bobby lost his kids, so he sort of adopted Buck as a pseudo son.”
She nodded, like that was reasonable. “Yes, I understand that. And it is very sweet of you to stay longer than the funeral.”
“I don’t want to be alone, either,” he said, looking back up at her and dropping his hands to the table top. Then he picked one back up and squinted at his fingernails, a bit more ragged than he usually let them get.
“Are you considering moving back?” she asked bluntly.
He blew out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. “No, not really. I just… once I’m back in El Paso, that’s it.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Why?”
“I uprooted my whole life?” He lifted both hands palm up, too polite to say the ‘duh’ out loud.
“You think in such black and white, Edmundo,” she chided. She took a sip of her coffee. “If something isn’t serving you, you can stop it.”
“I got a call from the captain of the firehouse there. He thinks the freeze will end very soon. Maybe even this week. So I will have a job again.” He swallowed. “Then it is permanent.”
She shook her head. “Nothing is permanent, cariño.”
“Pepa, I bought a house. Chris is there. I will have a job. A good one. It is settled.”
She pursed her lips then waved a hand. “Well, then you must make the most of your time here while you are here.” She tapped her chin, reached over to squeeze his hand, then smiled. “Come, I have more tasks for you to do that Nando is too lazy to do. The pork needs time to roast.”
She sent him home with a container for Buck and a sharp cheek pat, but no further arguments why he should stay. Of course Eddie wanted to stay. He was just sure he’d burned the bridge behind him when he left.
Buck got a ride home from Ravi, who waved to Eddie without getting out of his car when he spotted him on the porch. Buck eyed him suspiciously as he set his bag down, then actually laughed when Eddie immediately dragged him back to the bedroom.
The next few days passed in a haze. When Buck was home, they were on each other with desperate abandon. When Buck was on shift, Eddie was at loose ends. He did chores and facetimed Chris and drove around in Buck’s truck. He had lunch with his cousin Liliana twice because their schedules lined up that way.
Eddie was familiar with sex-instead-of-talking and he knew it was going to blow up in his face; he was honestly curious how exactly that would finally happen. His inner voice that sounded like a therapist kept saying “are you doing this so you don’t feel as bad when you do go back to Texas?”
And then he got the phone call. Congratulations, Diaz. Spot’s waiting for you May first. May Day, mayday.
With Bobby gone, the next person whose opinion and judgment he trusted most was Hen. He had lunch with her and Karen while Buck was off doing errands, and he accepted their hugs of congratulations with a pit in his stomach. He didn’t mention Buck once during the visit. Neither did they.
“I wish I could talk to Bobby about it,” he admitted quietly over a shared dessert.
“I have that thought nine times a day,” Hen agreed grimly. “All I want is to ask his opinion on the captaincy. It doesn’t seem fair to force it on Chim with his paternity leave coming up soon, but I cannot. I just can’t.”
Karen reached over and covered one of Hen’s hands with her own, then smiled at Eddie. “There are plenty of other people looking for the captain’s seat even if it’s not you or Chimney,” she said.
“Oh, can you imagine?” Hen scoffed. “Buck would eat them.”
“Bones and all,” Eddie agreed. He’d heard enough from Ravi that Buck had been a bit of a nightmare on shift.
“At least Chim can keep him in line by threatening his access to his niblings,” Hen said, sitting back in her chair.
“I refuse to accept that is a real word,” Eddie said, smiling slightly.
Hen drove him back to the house after, dropping him off with a wave and a squeezed shoulder. “You’ll choose the right path, Eddie. I have faith in you.”
He grimaced. “I wish I did,” he said, then got out of her car and headed inside. Buck wasn’t home yet and he wanted to sit in silence and stare at the wall for a while.
-
Buck did, in fact, end up driving him to the airport. They didn’t say much. They hadn’t said much to one another since the fight in the kitchen, even after the zip line rescue from the collapsing apartment building.
Eddie watched him cautiously when he knew Buck wasn’t looking, and he felt Buck’s eyes like a hand on his skin all the time. Eddie backed off, and he and Chris moved over to stay with Pepa while Eddie made his plans for the move back to California. She was delighted to have them, though she kept frowning at Eddie like she thought he was missing something important.
He missed Buck. They hadn’t been alone in a room at all since. Edie just wanted to shove his face into Buck’s sternum and fuse their skin together. He was just enough shorter that their ribs should interlock, like two deer trapped together by the antlers. But Buck was slippery. He seemed to melt away even while they were technically still sharing a roof, and it was worse once they weren’t. Sometimes Eddie felt like he was carrying around two heads, his own antlers still locked with those of someone dead and beheaded.
And Buck was bright and sometimes even cheerful when others were around, and then he’d look at Eddie and his face would shutter and he’d make his excuses. He stayed at least an arm’s length away at all times. He never made eye contact. The only thing he said to Eddie, with Maddie and Chim present, was to promise he’d have the house cleared out by the time Eddie came back. Eddie swallowed down a wave of nausea at that and just nodded and said thanks. There wasn’t anything else to say if Buck didn’t want to stay.
Eddie had almost gotten used to the silence in the two weeks leading up to Bobby’s funeral. He could get used to it again. He could get used to anything. That was what he’d always done. He could breathe through all manner of hurts.
He could handle not being wanted. Shannon hadn’t wanted him either, in the end. It was almost funny. The two hearts he’d cared about most had both stopped under his hands. He’d gotten one back for a little while at least. He’d bargained with god in the ambulance driver’s seat, he’d yelled at doctors to do more, he’d cried where other people could see. He’d promised the universe he’d never ask for another thing again, and Buck came back. Eddie took that to heart. Buck came back to life and that would be enough for Eddie. He had promised never to ask for more than that, and he could keep a promise.
Rejection Eddie could swallow. He hadn’t been good enough for a lot of things he wanted in life, so that didn’t hurt too much. He knew how to go hungry.
But god, it was just so embarrassing to let someone see his hunger. He’d shown his cards. He let Buck see his soft, white underbelly. And Buck had turned away from what he found. Not that Eddie blamed him, but it was humiliating.
He gave Chris the choice. Fly back to Texas with him for the couple weeks it would take to pack up the house and then drive back to LA, or keep staying with Pepa. Chris didn’t even pretend to debate it.
“I am seriously never going back to Texas, Dad,” Chris said, rolling his eyes.
So it was settled. Eddie booked a one-way flight for late June. He made sure it fell in the middle of A-shift’s block of ninety-six hours off so that Hen could throw a real party and someone would be available to drive him to the airport because Uber credits or no, he didn’t want to spend that much money just getting to LAX. He left it vague in his own mind who. He didn’t want to presume or hold Buck to a promise made when he just wanted to get laid. It made him nauseous to think about. He’d already done enough presuming about Buck.
He sat down with Chimney to make a plan. Assuming he passed his recertification, Eddie would be reinstated effective July twenty-eighth and officially begin preparing for the paramedic exam, working alongside Hen on the bus. It would be easier on him and Buck that way, he figured, though he didn’t say that part to Chim. They’d be liabilities as partners, anyway; Buck couldn’t even seem to look at him anymore.
“Give yourself a few days between driving back from Texas and then, please,” Chim added, slapping his back as they exited his office. He still hadn’t changed anything of Bobby’s, and neither of them wanted to be in there for one second longer than necessary.
“Oh, don’t worry. I have it all planned out. Luckily I already got rid of most everything in the first move,” he said with a smile as they headed up to the loft so he could say hello to the rest of A-shift. “Putting it back in a U-haul will be easy.”
Hen was doing a crossword while Ravi, Buck, and two of the others were playing pool. Ravi immediately bounded over to hug him and welcome him back officially. Eddie glanced at Buck over Ravi’s shoulder and Buck looked away, hands wrapped around his cue and his eyes fixed unblinkingly at the purple stripe of the 12 ball.
“When’s your flight?” Hen asked, phone already out to check the calendar.
Eddie sat next to her, bringing up the Southwest app so they could compare.
“Do you still need a ride to the airport?” Buck asked softly, sitting across the table from them.
Eddie looked up and kept his face neutral. “Do I?” he said. He felt Hen tense slightly but didn’t look at her.
Buck frowned. “I said I would,” he said.
Eddie stared back at him. It was the longest they’d looked at each other face to face since Eddie brought Chris back as an apology. He said nothing. He watched Buck fidget. He wanted to get up and go around the table and tuck himself into Buck’s side and listen to his heart beating in his chest, but he was left with his own heartburn instead. He rubbed his sternum and watched Buck’s gaze drop to watch his hand for a moment before snapping back up to his face.
“Okay, then. Thank you,” Eddie said. He took his phone back from Hen and slid it across the table so Buck could take note of his flight details.
Buck nodded, pulling out his own phone to add it to his calendar. “Okay,” he said. “You should probably stay the night before at mine—at the house before since it’s so early.”
Eddie pulled his phone back and locked the screen. “Sure, Buck. Thanks.”
Hen reached over and squeezed his arm, looking sympathetic to a degree that made Eddie want to squirm.
Suddenly exhausted by everything, Eddie spent most of the next week leading up to his flight sleeping. It was more than he’d let himself lay in bed in his life, but he decided to take advantage of the rarity of truly having no obligations for a few days. He ignored his phone. He barely moved. It was great.
The day before his flight, Buck came over to have dinner with Pepa and Chris. Pepa went all out, chicken tinga and rice and grilled corn, with homemade tortillas and a veritable mountain of guacamole. Eddie had to spend the afternoon doing yard work to avoid the smell of the chicken cooking, something he’d never particularly cared for, and he only ate one helping of the meat when mealtime came. He kept loading up with corn and guac and he didn’t think anyone noticed.
Pepa packed up leftovers for Buck, and then Eddie let Buck drive them back to the house. They both hugged Chris goodbye, to varying degrees of sighing and eye-rolling.
“I will see you next month,” Eddie said. He was aware he was clinging. He knew Chris staying in California was the most logical solution, both practically and financially, but it was still making him sick to think about leaving him. He’d only just gotten him back.
Chris didn’t seem as bothered. “I will be fine, Dad,” he groaned. “I already have plans with, like, everybody.”
Eddie smiled at that and kissed him again, loud and messy right on his cheek exactly how he knew Chris hated. “Alright, alright,” he said, laughing as Chris shoved him away. “I love you. Make good choices while I’m gone.”
“You too,” Chris said, pointing back at him.
Eddie followed Buck to his truck with his carry-on tucked into a larger suitcase borrowed from Pepa. He stowed it in the back then crawled into the passenger seat. And then had to roll down the window when he realized two thirds of the leftover chicken tinga was in the truck with them.
“I hate the smell of tinga,” he said when Buck gave him a concerned look. “I like the taste just fine, but the smell. Ugh.”
“Eddie, it doesn’t smell like anything,” Buck said, cocking his head.
Eddie wrinkled his nose. “You didn’t grow up with it. I always hated it. Pepa’s is better than my mom’s attempts, at least.” He shuddered. “It’s fine. We’ll just keep the window down a little.”
“If you’re sure. I can just put it in the bed,” Buck offered, but Eddie waved him off then reached over and turned on the radio. It wasn’t that long of a drive. It wasn’t any worse than being in the truck with Buck at all.
Buck disappeared down the hallway once they got back to the house. He already had some stuff packed up, boxes stacked next to the front door. Eddie trailed his fingers along the edge of one and wished things were different somehow. He didn’t want Buck to move out. What Eddie wanted was to go get his things and tell Buck to stay, to share the house and the bed and their lives. But he couldn’t think about that without his throat closing up and his eyes watering, so he turned around abruptly and went into the kitchen instead.
He opened the fridge to put away Pepa’s leftovers, mindful of Buck’s insane person fridge organization rules. He picked up a bottle of kombucha and read the label, skeptical of all its health claims. It had already been opened at some point so he unscrewed the lid, took a sniff, then quickly put the lid back on and shoved the bottle back where it came from. He swallowed back the gag.
“What, suddenly not sure if you still hate it?” Buck asked from the doorway.
Eddie wiped his hands on his thighs, suddenly embarrassed. “Hey, that flavor didn’t sound awful. I like guava. It’s the best Jarritos flavor.”
“It’s not bad. I like that brand, usually. They have a watermelon one that’s really good,” Buck said, nodding toward the bottle. He brushed past Eddie to go to the sink, where he washed his hands and then filled a glass of water. Eddie wanted to lean into him immediately.
Eddie backed off instead, letting the fridge door close. He went to the island, poking in various containers stacked there, each full of Buck’s baking experiments. Buck had apparently been busy. The second container he picked up was full of flat little blobs rolled in powdered sugar, and he looked over at Buck. “Did you make polvorones?”
Buck’s shoulders raised up to his ears. “I mean, yeah. I tried to. They’re weirdly greasy, though. Maybe too much butter? But I used pecans and the amount the recipe said.”
Eddie picked one out and carefully took a bite, trying not to get powdered sugar all over himself. He chewed thoughtfully. “It’s good. Nutty,” he said after swallowing. “I don’t like them when they’re just cookie and nothing interesting.”
“Oh. Well, good. You can take them with you.” He waved a hand at the spread of containers. “Take anything you want. I don’t want to eat it all.”
“Thanks,” Eddie said. He shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth and chewed as he opened lids to see what else Buck had made. Whatever was in the next container smelled so strongly of lemon that he had to snap the lid back on and shove it across the island, eyes watering and stomach rolling. “Sorry. Did not like the smell of that one,” he said guiltily.
Buck huffed a laugh, pushing off the counter to come pick up the container and peek inside. He sniffed then glanced at Eddie with mild concern. “They’re just lemon bars. I didn’t think they were that bad. I made them from scratch. The curd didn’t even… curdle.”
“I dunno, man. I’m sorry. Apparently lemon is a no.”
“Lemon and chicken tinga,” Buck said with a slight smile. He resealed the lemon bars and set that container at the far end, away from Eddie. He picked up a different one. “Here, try this instead. Molasses cookies.”
Eddie took it from him then cracked open the lid for a tentative sniff. Then he nodded. “That smells good,” he agreed, popping the lid the rest of the way off and picking up one of the cookies. It was very flat and lacy, with crispy edges. It smelled slightly burnt, but in a good dark caramel way, and he took a bite. It was just as good as it smelled, and he groaned appreciatively.
Buck’s cheeks got redder and his hands fumbled on the containers he was sorting through. He didn’t look up as he spoke. “I’ll, uh, put anything with lemon over here so you don’t open any more. I like lemon, so. Uh, sorry.”
Eddie nodded, content to nibble the molasses cookies and watch him. He didn’t want to spook him so he stayed quiet and still.
Eventually, Buck ran out of containers to go through. He moved the stack of rejects over to the counter next to his coffee maker then stood there awkwardly. “I’ll, uh… go get you some bedding. For the couch,” he said finally.
“Sure. I’ll be here, uh, still having a moment with these,” Eddie said, holding up half a cookie. Buck gave him a sweet, slightly abashed smile at that, something Eddie hadn’t seen in years, and then he was gone.
He listened to Buck shuffling around, to the soft clunks of doors and drawers opening and closing, and he closed his eyes. He chewed slowly and pretended for a moment that everything was normal. It was a year ago. No, longer ago than that, before Chris left. Longer than that. Before Tommy. Before Bobby and Athena’s cruise. Before Buck died and Eddie forgot how to be normal about it. Before Eddie quit firefighting the first time. Before Ana, before he got shot. Maybe those few months after Buck dropped the lawsuit, just before the pandemic stopped the world. Those were good months. He opened his eyes and frowned at the last bite of cookie in his fingers. Suddenly it felt like his mouth was full of glue. He swallowed painfully and quietly dropped the last bite in the trash.
He braced both palms on the butcher block and stared at the grain of the wood. He thought about throwing up. He swallowed again and shook his head. Maybe the kombucha would help. It was supposed to be good for nausea. But it was just as likely he’d gag on that instead.
It was psychosomatic, anyway. He shook his head and stood up straighter again. He was just making himself sick thinking about maybes and never-dids. He shook himself harder then squared his shoulders and went to see what progress Buck had made.
He found him standing behind the couch, a blue sheet and the orange blanket Eddie loved folded up in his hands. “Uh, here you go,” Buck said, looking up then flicking his gaze away when Eddie came through the arch from the dining room. He set the bedding down next to a bed pillow he’d already scrounged up, the pillowcase a dark gray satin.
Eddie looked up, brow furrowed. “Aren’t you fancy with the satin,” he teased gently.
“Oh, it’s—it’s supposed to be better for your hair. I got kinda into curl care this year. While you were gone.” He gestured at his head. His curls did look better than Eddie remembered. They were softer, better defined. Eddie’s fingers had tangled in them. “Satin is better for them. I just grabbed that off my bed. It’s clean. It’s the pillow I don’t sleep on. I can get a different pillowcase if you want.”
“I guess I just didn’t notice before. After the funeral. When we were—”
“Yeah!” Buck said, too loud, clapping his hands together loudly. They both jumped. “Switched around the time I moved in here.”
Eddie blinked at him. He looked back at the pillow for a beat, then nodded. “This is fine. Thank you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Don’t do anything extra for me. It’s just one night,” he said. He let his hands fall at his sides, then he tucked them in his jeans pockets for lack of anything else to do with them. What did he normally do with his hands, he thought desperately, still staring at the pillow. He pulled his hands back out and ran one through his hair, then made a face at the drag of his fingers through hair gel. “I’m going to shower, I think,” he said.
Buck nodded, stepping back from the couch. “Okay. I’m probably just gonna go to bed, I think. Flight’s at nine AM, so up at five-thirty so I can get you there by seven?”
“Buck, I don’t need two hours for security. Get up at six at the earliest.”
“I hate flying,” Buck said, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t know how it works.”
“Even at LAX, I won’t need two hours to get through security on a Friday morning, I promise,” Eddie said. He patted his thighs and looked down the hall toward the bathroom. “You care if I just use your shower stuff?”
Buck flapped a hand. “Yeah, whatever,” he said. “You know where the towels are.” He watched Eddie for a beat and then he headed down the hall for his bedroom. “D’you want to borrow something to sleep in so you don’t have to worry about dirty clothes?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie said, nodding. He sat down so he didn’t have to watch him walk away. He let his head fall back against the back of the couch, his hand on the pile of bedding next to him. He rubbed his face with both hands and blew out a long breath. He thought about following him down the hall, about pushing him down on the bed and climbing in on top of him. They could keep all their clothes on. Eddie wasn’t greedy. Just laying there with Buck’s smell around him and his heartbeat under Eddie’s head would be enough. He wouldn’t even ask for the weight of Buck’s arm around him. He’d even lay there in jeans if that was a prerequisite.
He sat there long enough to hear Buck shuffle to and from the bathroom a few times, the sink coming on and the toilet flushing. “All yours. Goodnight,” Buck called eventually, and then he shut the bedroom door.
Eddie peeled himself off the couch. He showered slowly, one forearm braced on the tiled wall, trying not to cry. He pulled on the clothes Buck left for him, socks and a soft old t-shirt with a faded band logo on the front and some sweat pants, the bottom hems cut off so they ended around Eddie’s calves. He blinked tiredly at himself in his old mirror then went back to the couch.
He didn’t think he would sleep but the next thing he knew, his alarm was going off on the coffee table and he could hear the shower running down the hall. He sat up and silenced his phone then got up to start coffee, only to find Buck had already done that.
He nibbled on a molasses cookie and stared into his cup of coffee, trying to decide if he was going to throw up or not. He was so anxious about everything that he wanted to dissolve into a pool of his component atoms two inches deep on the floor. His hands were shaking. He got up and dry-heaved over the sink but nothing came up, then he washed his hands and sat back down with the coffee he wasn’t drinking. The smell was settling him down, if nothing else.
Buck wandered in a few minutes later, still pink and damp from the shower but dressed in jeans and a green hoodie that somehow made him look soft and small. Eddie reached out before he could think the better of it and touched the fabric, petting his arm. Buck gave him a startled look then offered his arm out. Eddie smiled apologetically, feeling his cheeks get hot.
“It looked soft. Sorry,” he said, petting the fabric one more time before withdrawing.
Buck nodded. “It’s cozy. Good for places that have their A/C blasting but not so heavy I get all gross outside.” He stroked his hand over the same sleeve Eddie had touched, a funny little frown on his face, then he shrugged and looked at Eddie. “You found the coffee.”
He lifted his mug. “Found the coffee.”
Buck eyed Eddie’s hand, watching the coffee slosh. “Nervous?”
“A little. I hate that I won’t have Chris with me. Not thrilled about having to pack by myself.” He sighed and put the coffee down, picking up the remnants of the cookie he’d been nibbling. “I’m going to hire some guys to help me load the U-haul and I’ll tow the Prius behind.”
“It is still absolutely hysterical to me that you traded the Denali in for a Prius,” Buck said, smiling.
“I did actually get a good deal on the trade-in,” Eddie said defensively. “It paid for a few months of mortgage.”
Buck waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Still hilarious.”
“I have also saved so much money on gas I’m actually embarrassed.”
“You’ve been mooching here for almost a month,” Buck pointed out.
“I have filled up your stupid gas tank more than once, asshole. Which is why I appreciate the Prius now.” Eddie wrinkled his nose. “It has surprisingly a lot of trunk space, too.”
“Sure, buddy,” Buck scoffed. He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and drifted over toward the back door, ducking his head to peer out the window at the back yard. Eddie watched his profile, committing this to memory. Buck intended to move out. They were already awkward. He might never have this moment again: Buck soft in the morning in this kitchen with him.
He looked down at the cookie in his hand. He snapped it in half, then let the pieces fall back to the square of paper towel he was using as a plate. He knew he’d be hungry later, probably once he was on the plane and couldn’t do anything about it, but the thought of eating right then made him want to go lie down in the crawlspace.
Buck coaxed him into finishing his coffee and then a piece of toast, then started to get too anxious about traffic and LAX security to delay any longer. Eddie got dressed in his own clothes, though he stole the t-shirt he slept in for the trip. Buck waved off any excuse he gave and told him he’d keep his suit there til Eddie was back so he didn’t have to worry about it.
The next thing Eddie knew, he was standing on the curb at the drop off lane, his mostly empty suitcase and carry-on next to him, Buck standing six feet away looking grim.
“I’ll see you in a few weeks, then,” Buck said.
Eddie cleared his throat then nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m aiming to drive back the tenth or so. I want some time to settle in and then do the recert course when I get back.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Thanks for letting me crash with you.”
Buck’s face twitched, not quite enough to show a full emotion but Eddie knew him well enough to read between the lines. Buck looked down at Eddie’s boots and he nodded again. “I’ll make sure it’s cleared out again for you so you can move right back in.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Eddie said, stepping closer. Buck gave him a wide-eyed look and froze. “You don’t need to move out, Buck.”
“There isn’t enough room for me to stay,” Buck said, shaking his head. “It’s not—it’s not really my space. I was just keeping it warm for you.”
Eddie frowned. “Buck, no. You help make it a home,” he said earnestly. He took another step closer and watched as Buck’s whole body tensed. Buck looked at his watch and cleared his throat loudly.
“Well, you’d better get inside. Look at that line!” he said, too loud. He waved Eddie toward the doors then stepped back, almost bumping into his own truck.
Eddie stared at him, trying to reconcile this nervous stranger with the best friend he’d had for years, or even the man he’d been sleeping with just a few weeks ago. He was barely recognizable.
“Right,” Eddie said slowly. He took an abortive step toward him again and watched Buck try to retreat further. He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets instead, feeling tense and embarrassed that Buck couldn’t even bring himself to offer a hug. “Okay, goodbye, then,” he said. He turned back to his bags, frowning at Buck over his shoulder.
“Have a safe flight!” Buck said quickly, clapping his hands again. “I better get moving before the rent-a-cop gives me a ticket.”
“Uh, yeah. Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said quietly.
And then Buck waved at him and jogged around to the driver’s side, flashing him a thumbs up before turning away and getting into his truck. Eddie stood there feeling deeply stupid as he watched him drive away, frozen long enough that someone with a yellow visibility vest and a radio in their hand came over to check if he needed assistance.
He checked his bag and made it through security quickly enough. He found his gate then wandered around the terminal for a little while, buying a bottle of water and some cashews. He sent a picture of both posed in front of the window overlooking the tarmac to the muted 118 group chat. ‘see you in a few weeks’ he said after typing and discarding several other messages. He sent an ‘i love you’ to Chris and heads-up messages to both Pepa and his own mother then pocketed his phone. He ignored it from there even as it vibrated steadily against his thigh.
He slept on the plane. He got an uber back to the house. He continued to ignore his mother’s calls. He fell asleep on his own couch as soon as he got in the door, boots still on.
He woke to a sharp knocking at the door and sighed, peeling himself off the couch and running his hands through his hair before making his way to the door.
He blinked at his father standing there looking stern and leaned to one side to look past him towards the truck parked behind the Prius in the driveway. “Where’s Mom?”
His father huffed. “Hello to you, too, Edmundo. I’m having a fine day, thank you,” he said, brushing past Eddie into the house. “Your mother is working today, which you would know if you answered the phone,” he added.
Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly, begging for strength. “I was taking a nap after my flight. I got up very early this morning.”
“And you couldn’t respond when you landed? Anyway. She was worried so she sent me to check on you.” He waved a hand. “I will tell her you seem to have survived.”
“Thanks,” Eddie said dryly, shutting the door. He glanced around then decided he didn’t particularly care what Dad thought of the state of a house he was about to pack up anyway.
“No Christopher?”
“You knew that. He didn’t want to come and I couldn’t afford two plane tickets.”
“We would have paid for his ticket,” Dad said, frowning. “We always want to see him.”
Eddie snorted, walking past him to sit back down on the couch. “You saw plenty of him the past year while you were pretending to be his father,” he said, ignoring Dad’s sharp intake of breath. “I gave him the choice and he chose to stay in LA.”
“He’s not even fifteen years old. How is it appropriate to let him—”
“It was perfectly fine for him at thirteen to choose to stay here with you, but now it’s inappropriate? Sure, Dad.” He rolled his eyes then rubbed his forehead. “He’s staying with Pepa. His schoolwork is complete for the year. He didn’t want to sit here for two weeks to help me pack and then sit in the car for a twelve-hour drive. None of this is unreasonable.”
Dad frowned disapprovingly but didn’t seem to have a counter-argument to that. “What are your plans for this place, then?” he asked instead, drifting over to run his fingers along the trim at the interior window between his entryway and living room.
“I have a call set up with a property management company for Thursday. Easier to rent it out than to try to sell it already.” He glanced around. “It was a rental before I bought it, anyway.”
“Would you be able to cover the mortgage?” Dad asked, moving over to inspect the casement of the window.
“I think so. But hence the property management company. They’d handle that part.”
“Would it be legal? You used a VA loan with owner-occupant clauses, didn’t you?”
He waved a hand. “Got a meeting with a lawyer set up, too. If we have to re-structure because I got a job out of state, so be it.”
He knew it would all be a headache on top of the headache he already had. He stood up and cracked his knuckles. “Well, since you’re here, want to help me carry moving boxes back down from the crawl space?”
His father spent a few hours with him, peppering Eddie with questions about plans and contingencies. It was a bit Socratic method, reminding Eddie of frustrating homework “help” sessions from his childhood, but Dad did bring up a couple relevant points in between Eddie’s frequent bathroom breaks.
“I am very hydrated,” he said defensively when he got back to the kitchen after his third trip, Owala bottle already in his hand. Dad flicked his gaze to the bottle then back to Eddie then he shrugged.
“And the plan is to train for paramedic certification, then? Does that come with a pay bump?” Dad asked, tearing off another length of bubble wrap when prompted and handing it over.
Eddie wrapped up another mug and nodded, not looking up. “It’s a non-negligible amount,” he said carefully. “Will definitely help me build savings back up after this debacle.”
They packed up most of the kitchen that evening. It was one of the best nights Eddie had ever had with his father; no arguing, just talking like adults. He walked him out and promised he’d be over for dinner that weekend when he had more information to share after the lawyer and the other meetings. And then he went straight to bed in Buck’s borrowed shirt, exhausted down to his bones.
He spent most of the next two weeks in a daze, packing in between sleeping too much and peeing constantly. He was starting to worry he had some kind of kidney infection, but that could probably wait until he was back in LA with active health insurance. He didn’t think it was diabetes, although anything was possible. It certainly came up often on various trans subreddits he belonged to, but he was fairly certain his fitness level meant he was probably safe. He’d been on testosterone for more than a decade; surely the worse side effects would’ve shown up by now.
There was another possibility, of course.
He’d been standing in his parents’ guest bathroom, washing his hands after his third bathroom break since he’d been there. It had been his and the girls’ shared bathroom when he was growing up, always cluttered with hair ties and forty different bottles of shampoo and makeup that smelled like candy. Now it was just clean and sterile, repainted a soft sage green. The long smudge of mascara that had been on the wall below the medicine cabinet from the time Sophia barged on Eddie getting ready for a school dance, smacking him with the door and making him make a mess, was gone. He’d stabbed himself in the eye with the wand and had ended up missing the dance, his eye swollen shut from the injury and from crying.
He blinked at himself in the mirror, tracing the edge of his beard along his cheekbone. He’d spent so many hours staring at himself in that same mirror, as a kid who couldn’t figure out why she felt weird all the time inside skin that didn’t fit, as a teenager with a desperate crush on her best friend, as a high school senior about to have the worst year of her life, as a twenty-three-year-old who thought he finally had figured out the problem. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and thought about being seventeen and crying on the floor right there, four days before he’d taken the first pregnancy test.
He wished he could go back and hug that scared girl. Hold her tight with her head under his chin, rub her back like he needed, and tell her it would be mostly okay eventually. They’d figure it out. They’d get out.
And maybe they’d find themselves sitting in the same spot in fifteen years, just as alone. Perhaps the exact same amount of alone, a tiny plus-one on board, yelled a voice in the back of his head he wasn’t ready to listen to yet.
He stood up, catching himself with a hand on the edge of the sliding shower doors as his vision went spotty. He rested his forehead against the metal frame for a moment, and then he went back to the bedroom that had been his before it was Chris’s, and finished putting the rest of Chris’s things in totes.
He hired some people on taskrabbit to load the U-haul truck for him, first at his parents’ house and then at his own. One turned out to be a guy who’d been teammates with Chris’s other parent, who only recognized Eddie because he recognized Helena. They stared at each other awkwardly then seemed to mutually decide they didn’t need to discuss it. He’d been dead for over a decade. That girl he’d knocked up was long gone, too.
He hitched the Prius to the back of the truck. He made the long drive back to LA alone, Chris on facetime for long stretches of it while they mostly just existed together while Chris played video games and Eddie tried not to fall asleep to an endless stream of saguaro cacti on either side of the 10. He stopped to pee approximately one hundred times.
He knew the house would be empty when he pulled up but it was still jarring to open the front door and find almost all of Buck’s things gone. Packed off to a storage unit near Maddie and Chim’s place, vanished like maybe Eddie had imagined him being there at all.
Eddie unhitched the Prius and went to sleep at Pepa’s that night, sharing a bed with Chris and spending most of the night staring at the ceiling and listening to Chris snoring, his hand on his stomach. He threw up four times the next day: twice in the morning, once in his own bushes while carrying a box of Chris’s books in, and once during dinner at the smell of his cousin Fernando’s pad Thai when everyone sat down to eat takeout.
Pepa cornered him in the kitchen while he gagged over the sink. “Eddie.”
“Pepa,” he replied, popping the consonants, still watching a glob of bile ooze over the rim of the drain.
“How far along are you?” she asked, leaning her hip against the island and crossing her arms.
“I am not,” he said, scoffing. He spat again into the sink. There wasn’t anything left, not in his stomach or his lungs or his heart. The trip to Texas had drained everything.
“Eddie,” she said again, gentler, closing the gap between them and resting a hand lightly between his shoulder blades. “I’ve been watching you all day.”
He gripped the rim of the sink with both hands hard enough his fingertips squeaked on the stainless. “No, tía,” he said, shaking his head.
She rubbed her hand up and down his back, resting her temple lightly against his shoulder. He sagged sideways into her, squeezing his eyes closed. “I have a lot of children, Eddito,” she said.
“No, I know,” he said, eyes still shut. “But I am not.”
“Just because it is inconvenient doesn’t mean it isn’t happening, my love,” she said, hugging him.
He swallowed hard and shook his head. “No. I’m on testosterone. It’s not possible,” but even as he said the words he knew.
“And were you perfect and consistent with your shots the past few months, with all the stress and upheaval?” she asked archly. He shuddered. “I notice you did not deny doing things that could result in a baby, and I cannot help but notice who is not here right now.”
He didn’t answer. He pulled away from the hug and turned on the water, washing the remnants of his bile and vomit down the drain. He washed his hands then stepped back to grab a paper towel from the island. His handtowels were all in one of the boxes stacked in front of the oven labeled KITCHEN. He dried his hands mechanically and stared at the nook next to the kitchen doorway. He’d done things that could result in a baby several times in this very room, and that thought had him stumbling back to the sink and retching again.
And then he put it back out of mind. He and Chris unpacked and settled back in, Chris to an active social life like he hadn’t just been away for a year and Eddie to recertification and reinstatement with the department. That had been easy, relatively speaking. He wasn’t away long but there was still paperwork, and free time that might have once been taken up by Buck went to studying for the paramedic exam instead.
The last thing before official reinstatement was a physical. He was due for a pap smear anyway, so he booked two appointments. The physical was easy; the nurse practitioner he saw barely even looked at him before signing off on his fitness.
He knew what news he was about to receive, however, when his gynecologist closed the door behind her and gave him a grim look as she sat down on the tiny stool. It squeaked under her weight. He fiddled with the edge of the paper covering the table where he was sitting. He’d changed back into his clothes after the exam. He’d answered the questions truthfully. He’d agreed to more than a standard hormone panel.
“Eddie,” she started gently, then she stopped. She turned to the computer and logged in, pulled up his chart, then turned the screen toward him again. “You’re a medical professional. I also suspect you know what you’re about to read.”
He gave her a tight smile then looked at the screen. “Blood volume increased,” he said dully, reading the first line.
“Forty-one percent over your last values,” she said, nodding.
He kept going down the column of values. “A…suspiciously high hCG level,” he said mildly. He tried to keep his face neutral.
“Eddie, that’s a second trimester range value.”
He sat back and rested his hands on his knees. “I didn’t realize there was… week to week fluctuation for that.”
“When was your last cycle?” she asked, swinging the screen back to face her, typing something then looking up at him.
He blinked at her. “Uh, when did I get shot? Missed a few months of T after that. Summer 2021?”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “So that is not going to be a good way to calculate for you.”
“I can give you a likely date range for—for conception,” he said, looking back down at his hands and trying to keep his voice steady. It wobbled. “It’s pretty narrow.”
She held out a box of Kleenex, which he took with a shaking hand then held to his chest. He was not going to cry. He bit the inside of his cheek and sniffed.
“Sometime in May?” she asked gently.
He nodded and squeezed his eyes closed. “Yeah. Last week of April, first few days of May. My old captain died and his funeral was then. I was… grieving.” He broke off and pressed his fingers to his lips for a moment. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just genuinely never thought I’d be having this conversation again.”
She moved the swinging arm that held the computer monitor and scooted closer on her stool, gently resting her hand on his knee. “You’re in California. You have choices. Ones you probably did not have as a teenager in Texas.”
He finally looked up at that, wiping his under-eyes with both hands and swallowing hard. “Oh. Right.”
“I have resources for you, whatever you choose. Including birth control options.”
He sighed and stared at the poster behind her of the sagittal cross-section of a uterus, a full-term fetus nestled head-down inside. “I know, I know. Testosterone is not birth control,” he said, thinking over every single article and brochure and website and textbook he’d ever read, every conversation with a doctor since he transitioned.
“Is your partner in the picture?” she asked gently.
“He’s… not right now. He’ll be supportive, though. I’m not worried about that.” He looked back down at his hands. “God, I’m stupid. It genuinely didn’t occur to me as a possibility even once.”
“It only takes once.”
“Oh, it was a lot more than once,” he said with a wince. “We were very, uh, active. For those few days. I’ve been with almost entirely women in my life. Like before that week, my total encounters with—with cis men I could barely count on two hands. I didn’t even think about it.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And I have a child. That’s so embarrassing.”
She scooted backward and clicked something on the computer, then typed for a few minutes, glancing up at him with concern every so often as he fought back tears.
“I’ll, uh, need to stop T,” he said. “Even if I decide to terminate. I should stop for a couple weeks, right?”
She looked back up at that. “You’re on… biweekly sub-cu? If I remember your chart correctly? When was your last injection?”
“Uh, last Friday.”
She nodded. “I’m a gyno, not an endo, so you should probably talk to yours, but if you’re even remotely considering carrying this to term, then yes.” She went into some detail about effects. “You’re not my first transmasc patient to find himself in this situation. You’re not even the only one this summer. This practice is very inclusive. So know you’re not alone. I’m printing out some resources for you. I’ll include some information about support groups, too.”
He left the appointment with a stack of papers half an inch thick and a head that felt like it was full of cotton. He submitted the physical to the department and put the rest out of mind, not irrelevant but not pressing yet. He had time to make the decision. Time to figure out what to say to Buck. Time to figure out how to say anything to Buck at all.
They spoke at work. They hung out occasionally, nearly always with a buffer. Buck didn’t seem to be able to look him in the eye, which Eddie noticed because he couldn’t stop staring at him.
He even came over to have dinner with Eddie and Chris once in late August. Eddie and Chris had been having fun that summer cooking recipes Chris found on tiktok, and Eddie invited him over when they made an attempt at jambalaya. He left out the shrimp, which he had never really cared for, and hoped for the best on smells. He texted like it was still normal, the kind of text he hadn’t sent in almost a year, and Buck appeared with a six pack and some crusty bread.
The evening felt painfully normal. Buck sat in the kitchen with them, banned from the stove side of the island, forbidden from helping. He joked with Chris as Chris chopped up the sausage and ham, and even made conversation with Eddie when he chopped the holy trinity. He drank one beer and didn’t seem to notice that Eddie did not do the same, the other five sitting forgotten in the fridge. They ate at the dining room table together. They pronounced the recipe a keeper. Buck even took a portion of the leftovers home with him.
Eddie looked at himself in the mirror after Buck left, scanning over his face and his body critically. He’d been eating better and working out more. The scale actually said he’d lost weight, although he felt bloated. His skin looked great, too. He’d always been lucky to avoid the testosterone acne, but his new increased blood volume had him practically glowing. It didn’t seem fair that he looked so good.
No one at work seemed to have noticed anything amiss. Not even Hen, who never missed anything and with whom he spent most of his time. He didn’t think twice before jumping off the bridge, though he did have to swallow down a huge wave of panic as soon as he surfaced and realized what he’d just done. He sat on the shore after, dripping onto the concrete with a towel over his head, listening to Hen chat with Tripp Hauser, staring at the water. He could feel the baby move, the barest flutter a first timer would have never noticed, but Eddie had done this before. He knew what it felt like.
He rested a hand over his stomach and realized his horror meant he’d made a decision. Which meant telling people. He looked over at Buck, standing a few yards away over by the bus with Ravi, looking beautiful and gigantic and like he was a mile away.
He knew there was no chance he was going to space pregnant but he put on a show of campaigning for it anyway. He was still relieved when Hen picked Athena. It felt right, anyway. Of course it should be Athena.
The day after they returned to solid ground, he had his first ultrasound. He cried on the table. He cried in the car in the parking lot. He cried in the shower, and then in his bed that night. He cried a lot the next few weeks, September slipping into October. He did not cry when he sat next to his grandmother in church, but he also didn’t tell her. He couldn’t figure out how to tell anyone. He started wearing looser clothing, more jackets, a bigger belt.
He pulled Chim into his office on his next shift after the exorcism.
“I am not asking for light duty yet,” he started. Then he stopped, because that probably didn’t make any sense.
“Yet?” Chim repeated, cocking his head.
“But I will soon enough,” Eddie finished. “And then I will need some leave time. In January.”
Chim’s face twitched and he picked up a pen, clicking it a few times as Eddie just stared at him. “Okay, so light duty soon. Got it. Do I have to start guessing why?”
“You get two guesses,” Eddie said flatly. Chim set the pen back down, eyes widening. “And something tells me you won’t need the second.”
Chim rested both hands on the desk and gazed back at him. “Well, there are not very many reasons a firefighter asks for light duty and then leave.” He narrowed his eyes. “You have been squirrelly lately. Tired more often. Bathroom often. Avoidant of the loft when someone is cooking. Even Ravi has noticed that.”
“Great,” Eddie said dryly.
“And ignoring your own behavior, my brother-in-law has been even more squirrelly than normal,” Chim continued, tapping his chin. Eddie froze. “Which is saying something considering he is essentially fifteen squirrels in a trench coat. Combine that with what I know about your anatomy… I suppose congratulations are in order?”
“I would like to keep this quiet for now, but yes.” He pulled out his phone to show Chim his most recent sonogram, feeling himself tearing up as he watched Chim’s face. He smiled so hugely, then looked back up at Eddie with so much affection Eddie’s whole chest hurt.
“I’m sorry that you have to have this conversation with me and not Bobby,” Chim said, then sniffed.
“Me too. But you’re a good second choice.”
Chim smiled a wobbly smile at that. “Is this why Buck lived on my couch all summer?”
Eddie cringed. “I don’t say it was Buck’s.”
“Diaz,” Chim said, mispronouncing it in that exaggerated Rocky drawl he did sometimes. “Do I seem like a tiny baby who was born yesterday?”
He stared back at him, letting his lips twitch. “Do you want an honest answer?”
-
The morning after his grandmother died, Eddie woke up with a headache. He decided he deserved a cup of coffee and finally hauled himself out of bed around nine. He grabbed a soft old hoodie from the rack on the back of his bedroom door and pulled it over his head as he headed down the hallway for the kitchen. He could hear Chris puttering around in there, the fridge opening and closing, and he came around the corner into the dining room still pulling the hoodie down to his hips, blousing out the fabric so his belly was more concealed as soon as his head popped free of the neckline. He hadn’t quite worked out how he would tell Chris.
“Morning, bud,” he said with a yawn.
Chris looked up from his seat at the kitchen table and waved his spoon before turning his attention back to his phone. He was wearing his big headphones around his neck and an old LaSalle Softball t-shirt of Eddie’s that he must have found at his grandparents’ house.
“Morning,” Buck said from where he was standing by the ovens, mitts on both hands and a towel over his shoulder. Eddie did not squawk in surprise but he did stumble over the threshold and knock his wrist into the glass doorknob with a crack.
“Oh. Uh. Did we have plans?” he asked awkwardly, tucking his hands in the kangaroo pocket and palming his slight bump.
Buck shrugged, face so aggressively neutral it looked like someone else’s face. “Maybe,” Buck said shortly.
Eddie frowned. “How do we ‘maybe’ have plans?”
“Depends on a few establishing details,” Buck said, then turned back to peer into the oven. “I’m making scones.”
“Of course you are,” Eddie said, tired all over again. He opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice, then poured a glass. The baby had been much more amenable to acidic things lately than it had been even a few weeks ago and Eddie was enjoying that.
Chris looked up and glanced between them, then slowly put his headphones up over his ears like he sensed something was about to go down.
“White chocolate with a hint of rosemary,” Buck said, then hooked a thumb toward the oven when Eddie gave him a confused look. “I know you’ve been sort of, uh, sensitive lately and figured it should be more basic flavored.”
Eddie exhaled slowly and nodded. “Oh. Thanks.” He leaned back against the sink and watched Buck fidget for a minute before looking down into his glass of orange juice. He swirled the pulp around.
“Everything was still in the same spots in here,” Buck said after clearing his throat. He was staring sort of past Eddie’s shoulder at the counter next to the stove.
“Creature of habit,” Eddie said. He took a sip.
“I brought that over from Maddie, too,” Buck said, gesturing one oven-mitted hand at a cardboard box on the end of the table. His voice was casual but he looked nervous when Eddie glanced at him.
Eddie frowned and set his glass down, then pushed off the counter to approach the box. It was cardboard, about eighteen inches cubed, with the flaps tucked together on top to stay closed. He eased the flaps open and peered inside, feeling the blood drain from his face when he registered the contents. “Oh. From Maddie,” he said, blinking at the top layer of baby clothes.
“From Maddie,” Buck said, faux-cheerfully. He glanced at Chris then shifted his gaze back to Eddie. “Some of Jee’s, she said, but mostly stuff Robbie is too big for now. That apparently you’re going to need.”
“Buck,” Eddie said softly, hands trembling. He looked up and caught Buck’s eye.
Buck’s expression softened and he took a step closer. “Eddie, I watched you jump off a bridge like three weeks ago. Like thirty feet down,” he hissed.
“First time you’ve looked at me all summer,” Eddie said sourly. He looked back down into the box at the tiny folded shirts on top. One was printed with tiny cowboy hats.
“First time I’ve—” Buck started to yell, then cut himself off and shook his head. “When were you planning to tell me?” he said after a moment, keeping his voice low again. “On your way to the hospital in a couple months? How long have you known?”
“I was getting my ducks in a row,” Eddie said, the words tripping over each other on the way out. “Talking to Chimney was the first duck.”
“I should have been the first duck,” Buck hissed again, glancing at Chris. Chris, thankfully, was engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone, spoon forgotten halfway to his mouth. “Do you know how it felt to find out from my sister? Who you don’t even speak to? Because she assumed I already knew!”
Eddie folded the box closed again, hands still shaking. Chris looked over and eyed him curiously but didn't take off his headphones. “You’re right. I should’ve tracked you down on whatever couch you were crashing on that week to avoid being anywhere near me.”
Buck opened and then closed his mouth, eyebrows hitting his hairline then flattening. “Eddie, I would’ve been here in a second,” he said finally.
“And maybe I didn’t want this to be the only reason for you to pay attention to us anymore,” he retorted, flapping a hand toward Chris.
Chris glanced up at the movement then studiously looked back down at his phone.
Buck let out a long breath, clearly trying to calm himself down and weighing what to say next. Finally, he gave Eddie a wide-eyed look. “Help me decide how mad I should be. How long have you known? It’s November!”
Eddie sucked his lips into his mouth and shook his head, looking away. He snaked one hand back into his hoodie pocket, rubbing it over his bump, then turned red when he looked up to see Buck tracking the movement. “I only admitted it to myself recently. Uh, after I jumped off the bridge, actually,” he said quietly. “There was always something else to think about that was more important.”
“More important than—” Buck whisper-screamed, then cut himself off again when the oven timer went off. Eddie watched him whirl around to turn it off then open the door to pull out his tray of scones. Eddie could smell the white chocolate from where he was standing and he grimaced. He pressed his hand harder against his stomach and silently begged the baby to let him have this.
Buck set the cookie sheet on the wire cooling rack he had already set up next to Chris at the table, ducking around Eddie and keeping his back to him for a minute. Eddie watched the back of his neck.
“This is incredibly hard for me, okay?” Eddie said finally, hoping his voice stayed steady. “We’ve… danced around it for years, Buck. Then Bobby died and it finally happened and then. You disappeared. I was—I was in denial. All summer. If I just didn’t think about it, I didn’t have to think about how I lost you and fucked up. So I didn’t.”
Buck exhaled heavily and he turned around, shucking off the oven mitts and tossing them next to the cooling rack. Eddie turned away, bracing himself with both hands on the counter. In his peripheral vision, he could see Buck take a step closer but he didn’t look up.
He inhaled shakily. “I have an appointment with my lawyer tomorrow. Duck two. I just wanted an idea of, like, what to say about custody and paternity before I dumped this on you.” He shook his head again and tried to keep his voice steady. “I don’t know, maybe it’s better if we just go through the lawyer.”
Buck made a wounded noise. “Eddie,” he said, pleading, voice cracking on the second vowel. Eddie didn’t have to look at him to know what his face was doing, wide wet eyes and his mouth partway open. Buck having a feeling always looked the same, which was inconvenient because Buck never knew what his feelings were so you had to guess.
Eddie curled his fingers toward his palms, grinding his knuckles against the edge of the counter and staring blankly ahead. He swallowed hard. He did not want to cry anymore. He was certainly not going to do it in front of Chris and a batch of fresh scones.
“Look, it was a mistake,” he said, placating. “Well, a lot of mistakes. We were both grieving. This is… the worst possible outcome to all of this. I was in denial too long to take care of it sooner, and I’m sorry for that.” He clenched his teeth, trying to keep his chin from trembling. He was going to have to keep having this conversation, he realized. He was so tired of apologizing for fucking up. He could only imagine what his mother was going to say in a couple of days.
His stomach dropped at that thought and he almost gagged. He pressed a hand to his stomach and squeezed his eyes closed. “And now I’m going to have to see my parents. Fuck.”
“Your parents? Oh. Your grandmother’s funeral,” Buck said dully, taking a step back. Eddie looked over to see him tuck his hands in his pockets, face still shell-shocked.
“Yeah. The funeral.” He huffed a mirthless laugh. “At least I get to deliver this news in person. Feels like in-person news. Surprise, your fuckup son got himself knocked up again. Have another golden opportunity to imply maybe I’m just confused again.” He made half-hearted jazz hands.
Buck flinched. “Eddie, don’t say it like that. You’re not a fuckup.”
He turned and gave him an incredulous look, then gestured expansively around the room. “I am very, very much a fuckup,” Eddie snapped. He glanced at Chris, who didn’t even twitch, still glued to his phone. “It’s my baseline, honestly. I might get a few achievements and fool some people for a little while but I always screw it up somehow, revert back to the truth underneath.”
He inhaled sharply again and pressed the heels of both hands to his eyes. Buck didn’t step closer. He just stood there looking helpless and maybe annoyed. Eddie didn’t feel like he knew him anymore.
“I should’ve stayed in Texas,” Eddie said, small and miserable. “Should’ve just stayed in fucking Texas. What did I think was going to happen? Nothing good ever happens when I choose to do something. I will always choose the wrong thing.”
“Oh,” Buck said. “Eddie, no.”
Eddie shook his head. “No. Even moving here in the first place. Years ago. That was the biggest mistake. I should’ve just—”
“Eddie, you’d be dead if you’d stayed back then,” Buck said bluntly, cutting him off.
“Well, maybe that would’ve been for the best,” Eddie snarled back.
Buck looked like he’d been slapped but he just stood there, hands limp at his sides.
Eddie felt like he was going to explode and the words just started babbling out. “Everyone would be better off. My parents would have all they wanted, which is Chris with them. What have I really contributed to the LAFD? Nothing remarkable. Bobby would’ve hired someone else for the team. He’d still be alive, because that person would’ve been there. You’d have had a different partner. You wouldn’t have been trapped in whatever this—this mess is.” He ran both hands through his hair and scratched his scalp. “All I’ve ever done is leak everywhere, all over you. And you realized that while I was gone this past winter. I know you did. That’s why you’ve pulled away since I came back.”
He was shaking. He needed to calm down. He moved over and threw up in the sink, just the burn of stomach acid and three swallows of orange juice. He turned on the water immediately, spitting into the spray.
Buck darted forward, suddenly sure and steady in his movements. He wrapped both arms around Eddie from the side, pulling him into his chest and tucking him in close with a hand heavy on the back of his neck. Eddie shoved his face into Buck’s sternum, smearing his wet chin against his nice shirt, and he’d let himself feel guilty about ruining that, too, later.
“Shh,” Buck said softly into Eddie’s hair. “I’ve got you. I’m here now.”
Eddie let himself sink into the hug, greedy for it and too tired to deny himself. Buck almost never touched him. No one did, really. Sometimes he’d get a Chris hug, rarer and rarer now that Chris was a teenager. Sometimes Hen threw an arm across his shoulders. Concerned nurses and terrified patients alike held his hands sometimes, but that was it. He was starving for it.
“I want your mess,” Buck murmured into his hair. Eddie froze and started to pull back but Buck kept him still, huge arms locking him in place. “I do. I want your mess. You said I noticed it and pulled away but that’s not true. It’s so far from the truth, Eddie. I’m so sorry. I want the mess so much.”
Eddie let out a shuddering breath, face still buried in Buck’s chest. “It’s a girl,” he said softly. “I just found out this week. I haven’t even let myself think about it.”
Buck made a quiet sobbing sound of his own and squeezed him closer. “Eddie. We’re having a baby,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” Eddie whispered back. “I guess we are.”
“You’re what?” Chris’s voice cut in.
They pulled back from each other abruptly, Buck. banging his elbow on the edge of the fridge and swearing. They both turned to look at Chris, who had his headphones around his neck again and a look of horror on his face. He’d dropped his phone in his cereal bowl, milk splattered across the table.
“Uh, how much of that did you hear?” Buck said, stretching out a placating hand toward him.
“You making Dad so upset he threw up in the sink,” Chris retorted.
“That doesn’t actually answer the question,” Buck said, more to himself than anything, letting Eddie brush past him to crouch next to Chris at the table.
“Chris,” Eddie said, reaching out to touch his arm.
Chris shook him off. “You’re—you’re seriously having a baby?” Eddie glanced over at Buck then nodded. “Together?” Chris said, looking from Eddie to Buck to Eddie’s abdomen and back again, his eyes wide. Eddie nodded again.
“It was an accident, obviously,” Eddie said.
“You are really setting a great example here, Dad,” Chris said after a moment.
“Yeah, well. You can agree on that point with your grandmother,” Eddie said, dropping his gaze to Chris’s phone, still half-submerged in his peachy-colored Apple Jacks milk. He reached over and gingerly plucked it out, taking the wad of paper towels Buck was already offering before letting Buck help haul him back upright.
“Is this why Buck disappeared?” Chris asked, watching Eddie’s hands as he dried off the phone.
Buck made a soft sound of protest, coming closer and pulling out the chair across from him at the table. He reached across and grabbed one of Chris’s hands with both of his. “No. It is not,” Buck said vehemently. Chris stilled; even Eddie froze watching Buck’s face.
“Then why’d you do that?” Chris asked.
“Because I… wanted all of this too much. Not a baby. Didn’t think that was a possibility,” he added, lips twisting, wry and rueful. “But the rest of it.”
“What’s the rest of ‘it?’” Chris tipped his chin up challengingly.
Buck licked his lips and looked down, where Chris’s hand twitched in his grip. Eddie held his breath. He knew what he wanted the answer to be but he wasn’t brave enough to hope.
“Being able to stay,” Buck said after a long pause, voice cracking again. “I didn’t think that was on the table. And I didn’t want to overstay.”
Chris scoffed at that. “So you left early instead?”
Eddie exhaled sharply. His chest hurt and he urgently needed to pee again. He excused himself abruptly, setting the clump of paper towels and phone down on the table before hurrying down the hall to the bathroom. He shut the door and thumped his forehead against it a few times. Then he sank down on the toilet, because the baby was big enough to shove herself into his organs now and his bladder was the most convenient. He held his head in both hands, elbows just barely touching his knees. Something else he wouldn’t be able to do soon, probably.
He finished peeing and wiped, and was washing his hands when a soft knock came on the door. “It’s unlocked,” he called.
Buck cracked the door open and stuck his head in. “Hey.”
“She’s sitting on my bladder,” Eddie said, catching his eye in the mirror and shrugging. Buck pushed the door open further and leaned on the doorway, watching him. Eddie flicked his wet hands at the drain then reached for a hand towel and turned around with raised eyebrows. “What?”
“You said that so casually,” Buck said, then he chewed on the corner of a thumbnail.
“Well, it’s the basic truth,” Eddie said, leaning back against the sink.
“Is this why you were so freaked out about the exorcism?”
“What, being pregnant?”
“Being trans and pregnant,” Buck corrected. “Or just being trans, I guess. Being something different.”
Eddie shrugged then shook his head. “No. My parents were never… not supportive of that part? I don’t think they were surprised, anyway. I think my dad was actually kind of thrilled, in hindsight. He used to make ‘man of the house’ jokes at me even when I was little, so I don’t think he minded that he got a son after all instead of just three little girls.” He made a face and twisted the towel in his hands. “Mom was harder. She used to dress the three of us up in those hideous matching lacy flowery Laura Ashley dresses. Even the girls hated them, so she couldn’t even get mad at me for ruining mine because Sophia usually ruined hers first. Dad never yelled at us about it.”
Buck squinted at him for a moment. “I literally cannot picture you as a little girl,” he said, shaking his head.
Eddie smiled with no humor, feeling his cheek muscles strain like cold rubber. He hung the towel back up. “Good. I was really bad at being a little girl.”
Buck glanced behind him down the hall then stepped in and closed the door. His gaze drifted downwards, lingering on Eddie’s kangaroo pocket, and he smiled sadly.
“Come here,” Eddie said, beckoning him closer and pulling the hoodie up and off, turning to hang it by the hood from one of the towel hooks next to the toilet. He took a deep breath before he looked back up at him, nervously smoothing the t-shirt he slept in back down.
“Oh,” Buck said, voice very quiet, eyeing Eddie’s torso. He stepped closer, backing Eddie up toward the sink. “I don’t think I would’ve noticed if I didn’t already know. But I can tell now?”
“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, looking down. He brought a hand up and palmed over the slight swell behind his navel. He mostly looked bloated, like perhaps he was just going a bit soft around the middle in his mid-thirties. “I’m, uh, twenty-nine weeks.”
“What the fuck,” Buck blurted out, pausing with his hand halfway between them. “I mean, I know you have to be, like, six months. It’s November. But you don’t… you don’t even look pregnant.”
Eddie very much begged to differ on that. “She’s a butternut squash right now, apparently,” he said. He pushed his waistband down to his hipbones and then lifted the hem of his shirt up to his ribs. It was a little weird that his abs and v-line were still a bit visible while he was also noticeably rounder.
He looked back up in time to see Buck mouthing the words ‘butternut squash,’ eyes wide and focused entirely on Eddie’s face. “Okay, but that’s huge, though.”
“I’m tall, have a long torso, and abs,” Eddie said with a shrug. If his doctor wasn’t worried, he wasn’t worried. The baby moved again and he reached out and grabbed Buck’s wrist, tugging him closer and then settling his hand on a spot to the left of his navel, just above the curve of his iliac crest. “Feel her?” he asked. They both shivered at the contact, and Eddie kept his eyes fixed on Buck’s so he could see the moment Buck registered what he was feeling.
“Oh,” he whispered, blinking back tears. Eddie guided his hand gently, following the baby’s
movement, and Buck looked down with the most broken-open reverent look on his face. He still looked like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed and Eddie found himself nodding, squeezing his hand over Buck’s to press harder, right where he could feel her moving. “That’s—that’s really her, huh?” Buck stuttered. He rested his other hand on the slight dip of Eddie’s waist and moved a step closer, their toes brushing.
“That’s really her,” Eddie agreed, letting himself relax, leaning his tailbone back against the sink. He watched Buck’s hand move over his belly for a moment then looked up at his face again, and was startled by what he found.
“Eddie…” Buck started, then trailed off. His eyes were wet and wide, his lip wavering. Eddie reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling slightly when Buck immediately leaned into the touch. He swiped his thumb under his eye, wiping away the first tear that broke containment.
“Please don’t cry,” he said softly. “I feel shitty enough about everything about this already.”
Buck cupped his hand over Eddie’s, holding it there against his cheek, mirroring Eddie pinning Buck’s other hand to his stomach. “Please don’t feel bad,” Buck said.
Eddie swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I couldn’t get out of my own way and now—now you have your new place, and you’re starting to date people again… and shit, I’m going to have to go on light duty soon even though I just came back. God, Chimney must hate me.”
“Eddie, I am definitely not going to date anyone else now,” Buck said, straightening up and frowning, letting go of Eddie’s hand on his face and wriggling the other out from under Eddie’s on his stomach. Eddie’s shirt slid back down.
Eddie could feel himself flush, hating once again that his cheeks always showed his feelings. He pulled his hand back and tried to retreat but he was backed up against the sink already. “I mean, you can,” he stuttered. “This doesn’t change anything—”
“Why do you always say that?” Buck snapped, pulling back. Another tear crested his waterline on the other side and he sniffled and swiped at it furiously with one hand.
Eddie blinked. “What?”
“That—that nothing will change. I tell you something life-changing and you assure me nothing will change,” Buck said, looking devastated. “I want things to change, Eddie. I want you to want things to change. I want you to want things, period.”
“Well, wanting things has never been something I could afford,” Eddie said around a lump in his throat, still frozen against the sink.
Buck made a sobbing sound and turned to the side. Eddie watched him ball up his hands and bodily shake himself, feeling like he was ten feet above the room.
“What are you doing right now?” Buck said finally, turning back. Another tear tracked down his face and he let it.
Eddie wasn’t sure what he meant. “Uh, going back out to the kitchen for breakfast?”
Buck huffed. “No, I don’t mean literally this very moment in time. I mean, like… with this.” He gestured towards Eddie’s stomach and Eddie looked down with a sigh.
“I am letting something happen to me, obviously,” Eddie said simply. He reached back and gripped the edge of the sink with both hands, trying to ground himself.
“Do you even want this?” Buck said, waving a hand.
Eddie opened his mouth and then closed it, surprised by the question. “What does that matter?”
“Fuck, Eddie, I don’t know. Maybe because it’s a massive life change in literally every dimension for both of us?” Buck looked horrified.
“It’s happening,” Eddie said, trying desperately to keep his voice even. “What does it matter if it’s something I want? I just told you I don’t do that. Things happen and I adapt to them. That’s just how it is for me. I told you I was going to talk to my lawyer before I told you, so I had an idea about what to say. Depending on what you want to do. What you want.”
“Well, I want you to want me!” Buck snapped. “I said earlier I want your mess. I want you!” He swayed a little after that, like he couldn’t believe he’d said it. Eddie couldn’t believe he said it. They stared at each other, both of them breathing hard.
Was it that easy? Eddie thought dimly. He blinked slowly and then let his gaze drop to Buck’s lips. Buck whined and fisted his hands at his sides again, and Eddie made a decision. He could let himself want this.
Eddie closed the space between them in one step, grabbing Buck by the back of his neck and pressing close, kissing him desperately. It felt like back in May, both of them crying and arguing about nothing, talking past each other. Buck was still warm and solid and just as desperate, wrapping both huge arms around Eddie’s back. He kissed him back.
Eddie lifted up on his tiptoes and licked past his teeth, groaning into his mouth when Buck immediately sucked on his tongue. Buck’s hands slid down his back, both of them landing on his ass then he ducked to slide them lower again. He barely had them braced on the backs of Eddie’s thighs before Eddie realized he was being lifted, neither of them parting to even breathe as Buck picked him up and stumbled forward to deposit him on the edge of the sink. He wrapped his legs around him and fisted his own hands in Buck’s sweater, probably stretching it out of shape.
“We’re gonna break the sink,” he gasped, turning his face to the side for a breath.
“You’re not that heavy,” Buck grunted, sliding one hand up Eddie’s thigh under the material of his shorts. Eddie was absolutely that heavy. The sink groaned under him.
“It’s a porcelain pedestal sink,” Eddie said dubiously, doing absolutely nothing to move either of them, only his own core strength and his thighs keeping him upright enough not to lose a kidney to the faucet. He slipped his own hands under Buck’s undershirt and shoved it and his sweater up, greedy for his bare skin. Buck let go of him long enough to help, pulling them up and over his head and then tossing them to the side. The clump landed on top of the closed toilet lid.
Eddie dug his heels into Buck’s ass, dragging him closer again and immediately ducking his head to latch onto one of his nipples. Buck gasped and palmed the back of his head. Eddie heard his other hand splat against the mirror behind him, taking both their weight. “Eddie, oh my god,” he managed, his whole huge gorgeous body shivering under Eddie’s lips, his hips hitching forward. He was hard in his jeans, Eddie realized, mouth watering. He sucked harder then moaned and shifted his attention quickly to Buck’s other nipple. Buck’s hips twitched forward again, the hard ridge of him pressing against Eddie’s stomach.
He released his nipple and looked up, watching his face as he slid both hands over Buck’s skin. He was flushed pink all over and mostly hairless, especially compared to Eddie’s own torso, his oldest tattoos starting to blue with age to contrast with the starker new ones. He nudged the back of his hand against him, rubbing the points of his knuckles along the length of his cock and making him whine.
He flashed his teeth. “Yeah?”
Buck swallowed and nodded. “Always.”
“Arguing with me gets you hard,” Eddie teased, turning his hand over and squeezing him through his jeans.
“Don’t act like you’re not soaking your shorts right now,” Buck gritted out, rutting into his hand.
“Oh, I am,” Eddie agreed easily. He could feel how wet he was already. He hadn’t bothered with underwear under his basketball shorts when he got up. The elastic band on most of what he had dug uncomfortably into his bump, barely there as it was. He saved the few pairs that were still comfortable for work. He could feel his heartbeat if he clenched down, suddenly aware of being empty.
Buck leaned down, still braced with a hand on the mirror, and kissed him. Then the sink groaned again and he jerked back. “Okay, I don’t think it can handle four hundred pounds of man,” he agreed. He stepped back and Eddie reluctantly dropped his legs and hopped down, groaning as he felt how slippery and wet it had grown between his thighs. He wiggled and moved over to the adjacent wall, standing with his feet spread apart.
Buck noticed and immediately dropped to his knees, gripping Eddie’s hips with both hands and crawling closer. He kissed the slight swell of his belly and rubbed his face into it, pressing hard enough it must have made colors burst behind his eyelids. The baby had gone still, thankfully. Eddie figured there was plenty of time for her to kick Buck in the face in the future.
Eddie reached down and carded his fingers through Buck’s curls, already wrecked from Buck’s frustration and Eddie’s clinging. Buck let out a shuddering breath then sat back on his heels, looking up at him.
“I’m never touching anyone else again if I pull your shorts down now, Eddie,” he said softly. “You get that, right?”
Eddie nodded. He brought his free hand up to his mouth and chewed on the rough edge of his thumbnail, watching Buck’s face. “I do want you,” he said after a moment. It felt good to say it, to admit it. It must have felt even better to hear. Buck groaned and arched up, shoving his head into the palm of the hand Eddie had buried in his hair.
“You’re mine,” Buck said.
“You’re mine,” Eddie retorted.
“You’re having my baby, baby. I win this one,” Buck said, tugging Eddie’s shorts down abruptly, dragging them over the swell of his ass and down his thighs. Eddie leaned back against the wall to help kick them aside, lifting one leg up over Buck’s shoulder as soon as his foot was free. He steered him closer by the hair, not that Buck resisted, and cried out as soon as Buck’s tongue made contact with his skin.
Buck moaned and pressed closer, pinning him to the wall with both hands on his pelvis, lapping and sucking noisily over his dick. Eddie’s toes curled in his socks and he sunk his other hand into Buck’s hair as well. Buck moaned with his lips sealed over Eddie’s flesh, then hummed and sucked until he was begging.
Back in May, they’d had sex in every room of the house at least once. They’d made it to Buck’s bed after two rounds on the kitchen floor, fucking two more times when one or the other woke up overnight. Eddie still blushed when he remembered waking up around dawn to Buck’s cock wet against his hip and slinging a leg over him, waking him up as he rode that cock to another orgasm. Neither said a word, Eddie’s hands braced on Buck’s chest as he rocked his hips, both of them moaning into the dark when Buck got frustrated with his pace and planted his feet into the mattress to thrust up inside him the way he wanted. And then, after Buck finished inside him again, he’d dragged Eddie up to sit on his face and feed his load back to him.
They’d spent that whole day fucking all over the house. Eddie never managed to get dressed all the way, constantly distracted with half an outfit tugged into place, both of them more interested in getting some part of Buck back inside of him as soon as they could. He’d even settled for sucking his fingers at one point, both of them exhausted and curled together on Buck’s horrible brown couch with a Star Wars prequel on the TV. It was more sex in such a short period than Eddie had ever had in his life, even when that was the only thing he and Shannon could still do. Even when he was dating women who could match him orgasm for orgasm. Even when he was lonely and single with nothing but a toy and his own fingers and a house yawning with emptiness because he’d driven his son eight hundred miles away.
In hindsight, it was no wonder he’d gotten pregnant.
Buck dug his fingers into the meat of his thigh, right where his hamstring met his ass, bringing him back to the moment. He was riding Buck’s tongue, grinding down into it desperate for more. He looked down and Buck’s eyes were closed, his cheeks visibly wet.
“Fuck, your mouth,” Eddie moaned, letting his head fall back against the wall. He hoped distantly that Chris had put his headphones back on, or better yet gone back to his room. The other side of this wall was the closet that held their water heater and laundry machines, and the walls were not thick. The walls of Buck’s new house were brick, even inside. It was probably more soundproof.
“Oh, fuck, one of us is going to have to move again,” he gasped.
Buck pulled off with a slurp, blinking up at him with fluttering eyelashes. “What?” he said, sounding dazed. His whole face was shiny, even his nose.
“One of us will have to move again,” he repeated.
“Are you thinking about logistics when I’m eating you out?” Buck replied, aghast. He dug his fingers into Eddie’s ass cheek again, not enough space between him and the wall to slap it like he probably wanted to. Eddie flexed his thigh where it rested on his shoulder and found there was an even darker shade of red he could blush.
“We’re having a baby,” he said stupidly. He clenched his vagina down on nothing, wishing Buck had at least given him a finger or two. He couldn’t focus. He was so wet. He had the most beautiful man on the planet between his thighs.
Buck’s lashes fluttered again and he nodded, sliding the hand not wrapped around Eddie’s thigh up under Eddie’s t-shirt and over his small bump. “Yeah, we are,” he agreed.
“We live in separate houses,” Eddie said. He let his head fall back again and he exhaled harshly. “Fuck, touch me while I try to say this. Fingers in me. Please. Now.”
Buck huffed a laugh, dropping his gaze back between Eddie’s legs. He nuzzled the crease of his groin and then slowly teased the very tip of his nose up the wet seam of Eddie’s labia. “You sure?” he said, smirking when Eddie’s hips rolled down to chase more pressure. His lips parted immediately and he could feel Buck’s breath hot against his folds.
“Yes,” he whined. He gripped Buck’s hair tighter with one hand, making him moan and arch into the touch.
Buck obliged, delicately spreading him open with two fingers, spreading more of his slick around and indulging them both by rubbing his dick again before he quirked his wrist and slid a finger inside of him. Eddie moaned his name and clenched down. He wobbled on one foot, all his toes curling again, still pinned there securely.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Buck said reverently, working his finger deeper then slipping in his ring finger as well, twisting them against each other inside of him. Eddie whined and clenched down again.
“Keep going,” Eddie panted. “I’m trying to—I’m trying to think.”
“And what, you couldn’t think with your pussy empty?” Buck teased, but he also looked like maybe he understood. He kept his fingers moving slowly, barely fucking him at all.
“Couldn’t concentrate,” Eddie said. He closed his eyes for a moment and let himself rock his hips, riding Buck’s hand. Buck just huffed a laugh and leaned in, pressing a kiss just above his mound before working his mouth lower until he was lapping at his dick again in time with the movement of his fingers.
Eddie groaned, trying to ignore the sparks dancing up his spine at that. He came with Buck’s name on his lips, neither of them slowing down.
“I don’t want to live separately,” he said eventually when he could operate words again, voice barely louder than the wet sounds of Buck’s tongue and fingers. Buck looked up at that, eyes wide and blue and beautiful, cheeks hollowed as he suckled him. Eddie relaxed the grip in his hair and scraped the front of his hair back where his curls were sweaty on his forehead. “I know you’re in love with me, Buck. I want that all the time.”
Buck pulled off with a raspberry-blown squelch, eyes even wider. “What the fuck, Eddie?” he hissed.
Eddie swore in two languages, clenching on his fingers again, missing the feeling of his mouth immediately. “I know you’re in love with me. I’m so fucking in love with you, too. Look at me. Letting you eat me out against the bathroom wall with my shirt still on.” He groaned again when Buck withdrew his fingers and grabbed his leg, ducking back out from under it but not letting go, holding it snug against his hip as he rose to his full height. Buck didn’t let him wobble even on one leg.
Eddie blinked up at him, not sure what to think, then moaning when Buck kissed him eagerly. He sucked the taste of himself off Buck’s tongue greedily, wrapping both arms around Buck’s lower back and digging his blunt nails into his skin, frustrated as soon as they hit the edge of his jeans and the hard line of his belt.
Buck huffed a laugh right into his mouth and tipped away, breaking the kiss then smearing his wet face across Eddie’s cheek and down the side of his neck. “You gonna fall if I let go to take my pants off?” he panted against Eddie’s throat. Neither of them had shaved this morning; Eddie quit T in August but his hair follicles seemed slow to react and his beard had barely thinned. It helped with the dysphoria. He could look in the mirror and still see a man blinking back at him, even if that man currently had a very active butternut squash displacing every organ between his heart and his bladder.
“No,” Eddie said confidently, then immediately listed sideways as soon as Buck tried to move. Buck laughed against his skin again, gently lowering Eddie’s other leg and steadying him against the wall before making quick work of his belt and the fly of his jeans shoving them down his hips. Eddie helped once he had his balance back, shoving his boxers down as well and immediately wrapping a hand around his cock as soon as it was free. They both groaned and Buck shamelessly thrust up into his grip, so wet himself there was no friction at all.
Buck gasped his name and pulled back an inch to look at him, bracing one forearm on the wall next to Eddie’s head. “Did you mean it?” he asked softly. He didn’t have to elaborate, his eyes wide and wet and so soft.
“Of course I’m in love with you,” Eddie murmured back, resting their foreheads together. “I’ve been in love longer than you. Years.”
Buck shuddered and wrapped his other hand around Eddie’s, slotting their fingers together and steering his grip. “Fuck you,” he panted. “What do you mean ‘years?’”
“This baby isn’t the first child I’ve given you,” Eddie said, realizing it was true as the words came out of his mouth. “The other one—fuck, the first one is sulking out in the kitchen right now. Years,” he said again, eyes wide.
Buck whined in his throat and kissed him again, moving their hands on his cock even faster. Eddie did his best to keep the kiss slow, curling their tongues together in a softer drag. He squeezed his cock and pressed himself closer, lifting his leg up around Buck’s hip again. Buck got the memo quickly, letting go of himself and grabbing Eddie’s thigh, palm slick with his precome and skidding across his skin before he found his grip. Eddie smiled and broke the kiss to look down between them as Buck pushed inside of him.
Buck shifted again, lifting him off the floor and dropping him down onto his cock. Eddie went easily, spreading anywhere he needed to spread and eagerly impaling himself. He clawed at Buck’s back and wrapped both legs around him, wriggling deeper and panting against his neck how much he loved him and his big gorgeous cock.
“Fuck, there’s my greedy little whore,” Buck grunted, using his leverage against the wall to bounce Eddie on it faster.
Eddie clenched down on him again and nodded, letting the back of his skull scrape against the wall with each thrust. “Mmmhmm. Yours,” he agreed, focusing on the important part.
“Gonna move all of you into my new place. I have a better yard,” Buck promised, hitching him up higher again.
“You also only have two bedrooms,” Eddie groaned.
“But a better kitchen. And a king size mattress. And a hot tub,” Buck ticked off his list, punctuating each item with a hard thrust. Eddie gasped with each one and risked letting go of Buck’s shoulder with one hand, bringing it down between them to rub himself, pressing down and letting his swollen dick slide between two fingers. It was as distended and hot with blood as he’d seen it, pulsing with his heartbeat. He was so close.
“You could move back in here,” Eddie managed to say, clenching around him again and dragging a long moan directly from Buck’s chest that he could feel rumbling all through his body. “Chris and I are already—oh my god—right here. This is all our home. And I can’t use the hot tub now anyway.”
“But you’ll love it after she’s born,” Buck argued, grinning against his skin and holding still when Eddie came again. “Fuck, I love you. I just unpacked. I’m gonna come talking about moving house for you again.”
Eddie nodded. “I love you, too,” he panted. “Come in me so we can go eat your stupid scones.”
Buck made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan, biting down on a fold of Eddie’s t-shirt at his shoulder when he came. Eddie held as still as he could, petting the back of his neck and closing his eyes at the feeling of his cock twitching inside him. He could already feel a trickle of their combined fluids dripping out before Buck was even soft.
Buck lifted him up and pulled out gently, both of them hissing at the sensation. Eddie clenched his muscles, feeling gaped open and soaked, swearing softly in Spanish as he lowered his legs and Buck balanced him carefully back on his feet. He only slid a little.
Buck bent down to pull his boxers back up, tucking his still glistening cock away then pulling up his jeans. Eddie looked around for his own shorts, then ducked around him to pick them up off the floor, gasping as he felt more of his come slide out of him with the movement. Buck turned on the tap and bent to get a drink right there from the faucet, shaking his wet head like a dog when he pulled back. Eddie picked up Buck’s shirt and sweater and hugged them to his chest as he sat down on the toilet to pee and let himself drain a little more of their combined mess, watching him with his chest feeling warm instead of tight for once.
Buck turned off the water and reached for the hand towel, then looked at him as shyly as a sweaty man with no shirt and an unbuckled belt could look.
“I meant it, Buck,” Eddie said before Buck could give any of his fears a voice. He looked up at him, clear-eyed and serious.
Buck chewed on his lip and looked nervous. “Meant what, exactly? You, uh, said a lot of stuff in here.”
“Oh, turn the fan on, would you,” Eddie said, flapping a hand toward the switch on the wall. “I’m sure it stinks in here.”
“Eddie,” Buck said, crossing the room to turn on the fan then crossing his arms over his chest and staring at him.
Eddie let out a long breath. “Let me wipe, at least,” he bitched. “Put your shirts back on,” he added, tossing them over. They both took care of business and Eddie stood up and flushed, then pulled his shorts back on. They were, in fact, soaked through at the crotch, but he was planning to change before they went back out to the kitchen anyway.
Buck followed him into the bedroom and sat on the end of the bed while Eddie changed into jeans and a long-sleeved henley that was a bit looser than he normally wore. Even that was not particularly loose around his waist. He turned sideways and gave Buck a prompting look and Buck nodded. “Can barely even tell,” he said dutifully. Eddie eyed his profile in the mirror on the back of his door with a doubtful frown but decided not to argue either way.
Then he sat next to Buck on the bed and reached over, grabbing one of his hands and leaning their shoulders together. “I’m in if you’re in,” he said.
Buck squeezed his hand and kissed his temple. “I’m so in, Eddie.”
“I’m sorry you found out from Maddie. That’s not how I wanted it to go.” He sighed. “I wanted to tell you. Once I accepted it. I cried so hard in my gynecologist’s office. And she’s been so great and inclusive with all my gender stuff over the years.”
Buck kissed his forehead. “Do you have sonogram pictures?” he asked tentatively.
Eddie straightened up and nodded. “From Monday,” he said. “I really did just find out the sex. Hang on.” He pulled away and got up, then sighed when he realized his phone was still out in the kitchen.
Buck followed him down the hall anyway, right on his heels. Eddie sighed in relief as they passed Chris’s door and he could hear the sounds of controller buttons being mashed and Chris yelling into his headset.
His phone was sitting where he left it, right on the island. “I didn’t have them print anything. Just had them email me the little 3D digital version,” he explained, unlocking his phone and pulling up his email. Buck stood next to him at the counter and looked over his shoulder, sucking in a breath as soon as the image loaded. “Oh,” he said softly.
Eddie leaned into his side, wrapping his other arm around his lower back. Buck tucked him in against him and held the phone only a few inches from his face.
“I see why you cried,” Buck said wetly. “I… that’s a whole baby. Not a squash.”
“We are not calling her ‘squash,’” Eddie said firmly.
He watched Buck’s face as he watched the video clip and then scrolled through the stills in the folder. Buck was crying silently by the end of the video and Eddie reached up to wipe his cheek.
“Oh, yep, definitely a girl,” Buck commented near the end, when the baby shifted and there was a good view. The tech had cheered a little and told Eddie how lucky he was that the baby was cooperating.
“Well. For now,” Eddie said casually. Buck huffed a laugh.
“Fair enough,” Buck said, squeezing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “‘Squash’ is pretty gender-neutral, though.”
-
Eddie hadn’t really spoken to either of his parents since he had packed up his Texas house and driven back to California. His father texted about the UTEP-UT game last month and his mother still barraged him with reminders about Chris’s dietary needs as if Eddie hadn’t been providing for his child for over a decade. He sent them back dutiful answers and updates on Chris. He did not mention the pregnancy.
He and Chris met everyone at Pepa’s the day before the funeral, almost a week after telling Buck about the baby. Buck would come to the funeral the next day with them but they all decided it was best if he worked the day before as normal. Eddie wished he’d argued harder, though. It had only been a few days but Eddie already missed him like a limb. His hips hurt and he wanted to lean into Buck’s broad chest and let him wrap his arms around him.
Pepa’s was the largest house locally and therefore the best place to do the gathering. His cousin Fernando was on the porch trying to soothe his youngest son, who was nonverbal and clearly melting down, when they arrived. Eddie squeezed Fernando’s arm as they passed and gave him a sympathetic look.
His parents arrived later, between lunch and dinner. Eddie happened to be on the porch then, getting some air when the smell of something Pepa was cooking turned his stomach. He watched their rental car pull up and exhaled heavily. Neither of his sisters was able to make it in time for this gathering, although Adriana would be flying in in time for the funeral. Sophia had too many small children and lived too far away but planned to join the livestream of the service.
“Eddie!” his mother called, climbing out of the passenger seat seemingly before Dad even had the car in park.
He raised a hand to wave as she hurried up the front walk. “Hey, Mom.”
They must have checked into their hotel early. She was dressed in black, her hair done. She pulled him into a hug once she reached the porch, then held him by the elbows and leaned back, eyeing him up and down critically. “You look well,” she said, like she was surprised.
“Eddie,” his father said as he stepped up onto the porch behind her.
“Dad,” Eddie said, nodding to him. Dad looked frail.
“What are you doing outside?” Mom asked.
“Just getting some air. Lot of people in there,” he said easily. He shook off Mom’s hands and went to hug his father, surprised at how small he seemed then. He looked at his mother over Dad’s shoulder and wondered if he would feel so small to Chris when she passed.
They headed inside but Eddie stayed back for a minute. He was wearing a sweater stolen from Buck and a jacket, dark jeans and his socks. He looked down and adjusted everything again. He felt rounder, like it was obvious now that he and Buck were on the same page. Pepa knew, of course, and she’d probably told some of her side. Chris might let something slip. He should’ve made Buck come with him today after all, he thought grumpily.
He pulled out his phone and texted him as much. Buck immediately tap-backed him a heart then sent a photo of Hen pointing a breakfast sausage at him like she was scolding a schoolboy.
‘Tell me i can handle my mother today’ he sent.
‘u can handle ur mother’ Buck replied. ‘she’s not that scary’ And then, a moment later: ‘well she’s a little scary but you can do it 💪’
Eddie put his phone back in his pocket and sighed and went back inside, relieved to find the mud room empty. Pepa found him immediately as he hung up his jacket on the coat rack. “How are you feeling?” she asked from the doorway, eyebrows pulled together.
“Pregnant,” he muttered, intentionally settling both hands on his hips and not touching his stomach. “We are not a fan of guajillo, I think.”
“Hmm,” she said slowly, giving his torso a meaningful once-over, “you still don’t really look it.” He turned sideways and raised his eyebrows at her, flattening his sweater with one hand under the bump. It was getting pretty obvious, he thought. It would be undeniable in a few days, he figured. She rolled her eyes. “Well, when you deliberately point it out.”
He sighed. “I should just make an announcement. But tomorrow when Buck’s with me, maybe.”
“So it is Buck’s,” she said, looking pleased.
Eddie rolled his eyes and bloused out his sweater away from his torso again. “Of course it’s Buck’s,” he huffed.
She put her hands up, placating. “I don’t want to assume things.”
“Oh, right. You would never,” he said, rolling his eyes again. She smacked his upper arm.
“And you have worked things out?” she prompts.
“A little, at least. He’s excited. He’s worried about me.” Eddie exhaled slowly and managed to wrangle up a smile. “I still don’t… I want the baby. I just don’t really want to do the next few months and everything to get there.”
She nodded. “That is understandable. He will be a good father.”
Eddie smiled at that. “That I know for sure,” he agreed. “I have known that for years.”
“And you are already a good father,” she said more deliberately, catching his eye and following him when he tried to duck and look away. “Not everyone is so lucky to have two good ones. Now come inside. Your father cornered Chris in the dining room and is interrogating him about his class choices. Why is he taking French, he wants to know.”
He followed her out of the mud room, muttering that she was the one who trapped him out there in the first place, and let himself get sucked into the swirl of family around him.
He tried to ignore how his mother’s eyes followed him around, her lips pursed in what he and his sisters had called her Lemon Face when they were growing up. It was enough to keep him in line when he was twelve but reaching his thirties had made Eddie bolder. He chose to stay seated for most of the day, holing up on one of the couches with Chris, trying not to visibly struggle to get to his feet every time he had to get up to pee. Which was, unfortunately, often.
He made a stop in the kitchen after one such trip to refill his sweet tea, and nearly dropped the pitcher when his first Braxton-Hicks contraction in almost sixteen years hit. His cousin Liliana happened to be at the counter with him and darted forward to support his arm when he gasped.
“Eddie?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together.
He gritted his teeth and shook his head, trying not to tense all over. He exhaled slowly, his other hand pressing into the spot above his navel. He let Liliana ease the pitcher from his grasp and braced his other hand on the edge of the counter.
“I’m fine,” he said, then looked at her sheepishly.
“Mmhmm,” Liliana said, eyes lingering on the hand on his stomach. “Eddie, don’t make me assume.”
He sighed. “Thirty weeks,” he said after a moment, sliding his hand back to rub his lumbar spine instead when the contraction passed and his muscles relaxed again.
Liliana’s eyebrows shot up. “Eddie!”
“Your mom knows. Mine doesn’t yet,” he said.
“Thirty weeks, though!” She finished pouring him his sweet tea then turned to put the pitcher back in the fridge. “I didn’t realize having more kids, like, yourself was something you wanted to do,” she said when she turned back to him. She peered at him over her glasses. “Or that you were gay?”
He felt his cheeks heat and busied himself with taking the glass from her. He took a drink then squared his shoulders. “I’m not… labeling,” he said awkwardly. “Just having a baby, I guess.”
She huffed a laugh. “Well, congratulations, at least?” she offered, then tugged him into a hug. He hugged her back gratefully.
She was four years older than him and he’d been in awe of her when they were kids, baffled that she just seemed to understand being a girl in a way that was unfathomable to Eddie. Her hair was always shiny and perfect, her hands clean, her outfits curated and adorable. Eddie had usually felt like a bull in a china shop, bumping into expectations and smashing them without noticing. She always had impeccable fingernails. He was still a little terrified of her, even now, standing several inches taller and outweighing her by about a hundred pounds.
“Yeah,” he breathed into her hair. “It’s a girl. We’re—my partner, Buck—we’re excited.”
She nodded. “Oh! I didn’t realize he was a partner like that,” she said, grinning as she pulled back but kept a grip on his shoulders. “Mom adores him. His real name’s Evan, yeah? ‘Little Evancito, what a sweet boy.’”
He huffed again, feeling his cheeks burning. “Uh, yeah. That’s him.”
Liliana looked over his shoulder and her smile faded a bit. He glanced over toward the doorway and tried not to react when he saw his mother standing there, carrying a stack of empty paper plates.
“Here, let me help,” Liliana said, pulling away from Eddie and leading Helena over to the garbage can and lifting the lid up for her to drop in the stack.
“Oh, thank you, Lily,” Helena said, giving her a tight smile.
Eddie turned back toward the counter and looked down into his glass, avoiding his mother’s gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt another contraction, rolling his eyes to glare at the ceiling. Liliana excused herself, squeezing his forearm as she passed and mouthing ‘good luck.’
He could feel his mother’s stare and finally turned to look at her. “What?”
Her eyes lingered on the glass in his hand for a moment. “Something you need to tell us, Eddie?” she said finally. She picked up a hand towel Pepa had hung from a drawer-pull and wiped her hands carefully.
He blew out a breath and set the glass down with a thump. “Jesus. Is there a sign on my forehead?”
“Your hand is resting on your stomach in a very specific position,” she said dryly.
“Well, I’m having Braxton-Hicks,” he snapped back. He pressed his hand harder into the spot where his muscles had tensed.
She took a half step back, looking genuinely surprised. Then she huffed and busied herself with folding the towel back up the way Pepa had it and threading it back through the drawer-pull. “Eddie, I don’t know why you don’t feel like you can tell me things,” she said.
He gave her an incredulous look. “Yeah, silly Eddie not wanting to be dismissed or belittled,” he said, flicking a hand to one side then crossing his arms over his chest, trying not to feel like a sulky child.
She moved closer and gently took each of his hands in hers, pulling his arms to his sides then leaning back on her heels to survey him. He tried not to tense up or suck in his gut, just gazed back at her as evenly as he could. She gave him a wounded look. “Why would I dismiss or belittle you for this? Or is this another thing you are hiding from everyone until it blows up in your face?”
“The people who matter most know,” he said, lifting his chin.
She scoffed and dropped his hands. “Christopher knows, then?”
“Yes, Mom. Christopher knows.” He didn’t mention that Chris had only known for a few days. That probably would not help his case.
“And how does he feel about it?”
“Well, it’s not really his choice here, Mom.” He picked up his glass of tea again and took a long drink.
“He gets to have an opinion on you making another rash decision that affects him, Eddie,” she said, giving him the Be Serious Now frown.
“Mom, he’s fifteen. His opinion about me having a new baby really, really doesn’t affect the outcome of the situation. I’m still having a new baby. I know I could’ve handled the Texas stuff better but believe it or not, I am the parent and he loves me.” He looked down and realized he was unconsciously resting his hand on his belly again. That might be that metaphorical sign on his forehead, he thought wryly.
“Pardon me,” she drawled. “I’m just recalling how the last time you made a poor choice in your personal life, he called us searching for some stability.”
“No, Mom, he called you because he was scared and wanted comfort, and you decided taking him hundreds of miles away from his home without having any conversations was the best way to do that,” he said, far more calmly than he felt. “He will not be doing that again, by the way. Unfortunately, he is stuck in the house with this poor life decision of mine this time,” he added. “You could at least pretend to be happy about another grandchild, you know.”
“Are you even excited?” she replied, crossing her arms.
“Not about being interrogated, no.”
“I’m so sorry for being a bit thrown that my son is telling me about his second unplanned pregnancy.”
“Will you ever—for maybe once in my life—give me the benefit of the doubt?” he snapped. Her eyes widened. He set the glass back down even harder, wincing when it made a slight crunching sound. “Like would it kill you to just once not assume the worst of me and go from there?”
“If you ever gave us a reason to expect anything other than the worst, we might,” she retorted. “If you’re not getting shot or having nervous breakdowns, you’re falling down wells and cheating on your girlfriends. Or apparently sleeping with men now, too? Really, Eddie, aren’t you exhausted?”
She covered her mouth like she couldn’t believe she’d said that. He jerked back like she’d slapped him. They stared at each other, wide-eyed.
“Yeah, Mom, I am exhausted,” he said after a minute, rubbing his forehead. “Thank you for noticing.”
She reached for him and he shrugged her off. “Eddie, I’m sorry,” she said, mouth twisting.
“No, whatever, it’s fine,” he said, waving his hand and walking past her, pulling out one of the chairs pushed in at the kitchen table and sitting down heavily. He rested both elbows on the table and rubbed his face with both hands.
She pulled out the chair perpendicular to him and sat down delicately, then reached over and took one of his hands in both of hers, tugging it away from his face and settling it on the table top. She threaded their fingers together and stroked her other thumb across the range of his knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “That was unfair of me.”
“That’s no different than how you speak to me any other time, Mom,” he said.
“Well, then maybe I am unfair to you often,” she said, not looking away from their joined hands.
He didn’t say anything to that. He lifted his chin and stared at her.
“How far along are you?” she asked finally. She squeezed his hand. “You’re barely showing yet, so I assume this happened this summer after you moved back here?”
“No, longer,” he said, shaking his head. “It, ah. Happened after my captain’s funeral.”
Her eyebrows raised at that and she looked up at him finally. “That was in the spring.”
“Yeah, it was. I’m due at the end of January.” He looked away again when he felt her tense up.
“January!” she echoed. Then she frowned and squeezed his hand again. “Oh, Eddie. I am sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us.”
He thought about how he didn’t have to tell her the last time he got pregnant. It was his senior year of high school. She’d heard him throwing up several mornings in a row and had come into the bathroom he shared with the girls. She’d sat on the edge of the bathtub and crossed her arms and asked him point blank if there was any chance he was pregnant. He’d been half-blind with tears, his hair still long then and hanging in his face, hugging the rim of the toilet bowl miserably. She’d made a comment about what a pity he would miss out on his senior softball season and then told him to wash his face.
“And is the… other father going to be involved?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.
He rolled his eyes. “Mom, it’s Buck. Obviously. Of course he’ll be involved.”
She scoffed. “How would I know that? I know nothing about your life because you don’t want me to.”
“You’ve met him multiple times, Mom. He’ll be there with us tomorrow at the services, too. Abuela loved him. Chris loves him. I love him,” he added, voice shakier than he’d like.
She squeezed his hand. “And he’ll stay?”
He nodded and looked up at her. “He’ll stay.”
She made her Lemon Face but she nodded back. “Then that’s enough for me.”
He searched her face, making what felt like his own version of the Lemon Face back at her. And then he pulled his hands back and struggled to his feet. His belly hadn’t fully popped but he was still having trouble bending at the waist lately. He rubbed his back once he was standing again and waved off her concern.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“You were so much bigger with Chris at six months,” she commented, eyeing his belly.
“I’m a lot fitter now than I was then.” He rested his hand in its usual spot and looked down. “Baby’s on my bladder again, though. So if you’ll excuse me,” he said, then leaned down to kiss the top of her head before he left the kitchen.
He locked himself in the upstairs bathroom this time and pulled out his phone. Everyone in my family has clocked me’ he sent to Buck.
‘well good because chim just told hen because he figured she ALSO knew already. you suck at this’ he got, immediately followed by a text from Karen in all caps ‘BABY???’ that made him laugh as he sat on the toilet.
He took a deep breath and then sent his most recent sonogram, his name visible along the top, to the 118 and spouses group chat. ‘well seems like now everyone knows……. baby girl buckley-diaz coming in jan 2026’
It took a few minutes before responses started to roll in. Maddie called dibs on planning the baby shower. Eddie backed out of the chat when it devolved into bickering about that. He didn’t doubt any of their abilities to plan but when Athena got involved he knew this was too serious for him.
He was washing his hands when the screen lit up with an incoming call, Buck’s new contact photo smiling up at him. He’d taken it in bed, Buck on his stomach between Eddie’s legs, cheek resting on Eddie’s belly and looking up at him with wide, bright eyes. He’d knocked the phone out of Eddie’s hand after he heard the camera shutter, blushing harder than Eddie had ever seen him, even his birthmark was bright red. “She’s in there,” he’d said. Eddie had reached down and pulled him up by his shirt collar for a kiss.
“Hey,” Eddie answered the call, keeping his voice low.
“Hey. Checking in,” Buck said.
He closed his eyes and smiled. “It’s good to hear your voice. I’m hiding in the bathroom for a few minutes.” He sat back down on the closed toilet lid.
“Yeah? Not going well?”
“The usual. There’s so many people here and I got kind of overwhelmed. My mom making pithy comments about how I’m basically unfit to live, Pepa made more food your gringa baby hates the smell of, et cetera.”
He could practically hear Buck blinking in surprise. “Uhh, what did your mother say?”
“She asked ‘Eddie, aren’t you exhausted?’ after ripping into me for, oh, every mistake I’ve made since I was seventeen.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “She did apologize after, though.”
“Oh, so she’s growing as a person,” Buck said waspishly.
“She’s still my mother. She loves me.”
“Doesn’t mean she has to be the voice in the back of your head.”
“What do you even know about mothers? Everyone who grew up female has that. Ask Maddie. Promise even she does.” He grimaced at the thought of having Margaret Buckley’s shrill voice echoing between his ears at all his worst moments and decided that he was a little lucky.
“Eddie, I get to dislike your mom. She’s mean to you,” Buck said firmly. “Anyway, tell me more about my gringa baby. What did Pepa make this time that apparently we hate?”
Eddie huffed a laugh. “Squash is definitely not favoring her Mexican side. She already hates lime. And now whatever mix of chili peppers Pepa used, plus you know we already can’t stand chicken cooking. At least she didn’t make tinga today.”
“I… might have texted her about that,” Buck said, then laughed nervously.
“You texted Pepa?”
“You said she already knew.”
“No, I mean you texted her to let her know that for me?” He blinked back tears, feeling abruptly embarrassed. His chest felt tight with affection.
“I just remember how it was obviously making you sick when she made it before you went back to Texas,” Buck said quickly. “And you don’t need that today with the funeral when you also have to deal with your parents, right? So I texted her and said ‘please don’t make tinga.’”
“I love you so much,” Eddie blurted.
Buck didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he started laughing, though it sounded a bit wet and choked up as well.
He could hear the tones go off on Buck’s end and Buck sighed. “Gotta go. Text me before you go to bed, okay?”
“Yeah, I gotta go, too. Love you,” he said.
“Love you!” Buck said quickly then hung up.
He headed back downstairs. Chris was sitting on the couch with Eddie’s mother, arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face, while his grandmother gestured broadly and was clearly pushing for an answer of some kind.
“He’s pretty stubborn, Mom. I don’t think you’re winning this one, whatever it is,” Eddie said as he walked up to them, leaning his hip on the arm of the couch.
“Eddie! Welcome back,” she said, barely glancing at him.
Eddie looked over at Chris. “You about ready to head home, bud? We’ve got a long day tomorrow and a bit of a drive home tonight.”
Chris nodded, sitting up straighter immediately. “Yeah,” he said. He pushed his hair out of his eyes with his forearm then adjusted his glasses on his nose.
“Just talked to Buck. He’ll be over early in the morning and we can have breakfast, and I’m sure your suit still needs ironed for the service tomorrow.” He looked at his mother. “So we’ll see you tomorrow at the church.”
“It’s still so early, Eddie. Stay a bit.”
“Sorry, Mom. I’m just so exhausted,” he said, stressing the word. He rested a hand on his bump and smiled at her as she made the Lemon Face back at him.
Chris looked from one to the other then said, “Okay, Dad.” He wriggled to his feet and went on ahead of Eddie to the mudroom to find his shoes. Eddie watched him go then turned back to his mother.
“I was hoping he might want to spend the night with us at the hotel. It has a nice pool,” she said.
“His own bed and PC games have a certain irresistible siren song,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I’ll be lucky if he gets to sleep by midnight.”
“Eddie, it’s a school night,” she chided.
“And he isn’t going to school tomorrow,” Eddie replied, smiling. He pushed off the couch so stand back up, then leaned down to squeeze her shoulder. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Mom,” he said, then went to find Pepa.
She and Liliana were in the kitchen with Fernando’s wife, Mia, making an assembly line of dish-washing. All three looked up when he stepped into the kitchen. “Uh, Chris and I are heading out,” he said.
Pepa took one of the towels hanging from her drawer-pulls and wiped her hands, then came over to pull him in for a hug. She kissed his cheek. “We will see you tomorrow, cariño,” she said.
He nodded. “Last funeral I went to, I ended up pregnant,” he said, more to himself than the room at large.
Both Liliana and Mia burst out laughing at that, then both apologized, elbowing each other. Even Pepa smiled, squeezing his arm. “Well, bring your handsome man tomorrow. Everyone is excited to meet him. Mama would’ve been so happy to know he was with you.”
“I wish I’d told her,” he said, smiling grimly back at her. “I knew. And I said nothing.”
She squeezed his arm again. “Don’t focus on that. You know how happy she would have been for you.”
“You think?” he asked, then blushed at how small his voice came out.
“I know,” Pepa said, then shooed him out of the kitchen to put his boots on while she packaged up leftovers for him and Chris.
He’d already had to make some adjustments to how he tied shoes, less able to bend at the waist normally every day. He knew he’d have to make further adjustments as she grew, but he was already half out of breath from bending even partway to lace up his boots. He had a feeling she was going to be a big baby. Chris had been huge. Everyone on Eddie’s side was tall, including Eddie, and although both women in Buck’s immediate family were petite, Buck very much was not.
He collected Chris from the living room, where he was grudgingly accepting goodbye hugs and kisses from his grandparents. Helena squeezed Eddie’s shoulder as he passed but she didn’t say anything, even as Eddie guided Chris out the door.
In the car, Chris adjusted his seat back to a more reclined position. “You told Grandma,” he said, not quite a question.
“She overheard me talking to Liliana,” Eddie said, flexing both hands on the steering wheel. He looked down. He could barely tell. He hunched down more anyway.
“She’s pretty pissed about it.”
“She was pretty pissed last time, too,” Eddie said, reaching over to squeeze Chris’s shoulder, “but I’m pretty happy with the results.” He flashed him a smile and Chris groaned.
“Dad,” he whined.
“What? It’s true. She was pretty upset last time and it turns out you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. She doesn’t like that things happen to me, maybe. Not when I was a teenager or now. The difference is that this time I’m a lot older and have more experience ignoring her.”
Chris gave him an unimpressed look. “You have never ignored her in your life.”
“She’s my mom,” he said with a shrug.
“Yeah, but you let me ignore you all the time, Dad.”
Eddie snorted and reached over to gently shove Chris’s shoulder, making him smile. “I’m breaking the cycle, obviously.”
They made it home after sunset after taking the scenic route. Chris hadn’t said much on the drive, sitting with his head tipped against the glass and humming tunelessly along with whatever equally tuneless low-fi beats playlist he put on the stereo. Eddie was content to lean back and drive in silence, too. It felt companionable, not tense or awkward. He smiled to himself as they waited at the last red light before the house. It wouldn’t be just him and Chris in a car like this very much very soon. And then the smile sort of slid off his face as the sheer volume of stuff he was going to need soon dawned on him.
He waved Chris on ahead to unlock and go inside, sitting in the car listening to radio ads after Chris disconnected from the aux, trying not to panic. The baby was due in two months and he had nothing. He and Buck lived a twenty-minute drive apart on a good day in ideal traffic conditions. Eddie didn’t particularly care who moved in with whom. He might even welcome the fresh start that would come with moving into Buck’s place, with its long back porch and weird interior angles.
He rubbed the spot between his eyebrows then pinched the bridge of his nose. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm down. He had full faith that their friends would help them accumulate everything they will need. Maddie had already started with the box of hand-me-downs. Eight to ten weeks was plenty of time. He let himself slump forward and pressed his forehead to the upper curve of the steering wheel.
“Fuck,” he said with feeling.
He connected his phone to the aux and called Buck over CarPlay. He loved CarPlay. The sound of Buck’s voice over the speakers was calming. They might as well panic together, he thought.
“Hey!” Buck answered brightly on the fourth ring, just before it would have clicked over to his voicemail. Eddie turned down the volume just a bit and leaned back, closing his eyes.
“Hey,” Eddie said.
“We just got back to the station so me and Julie are cooking,” Buck said. Eddie could hear something metal clatter then Julie in the background calling out a hello.
“Oh, I don’t need anything,” Eddie said, feeling guilty.
“Yes, you do, or you wouldn’t have called. You still at Pepa’s?” Buck said.
“No, just got home. I’m still sitting in the car.”
“Go inside, bud,” Buck said with a scoff.
“No, I know. I can smell the leftovers Pepa sent us home with. No tinga,” he added with a smile.
“Fun fact! Since you’re not here, that’s what me and Julie are making,” Buck said.
“Of course it is,” Eddie said, laughing.
“So why are you actually calling? Your mom say something else shitty?”
“Not to me,” he said. He rubbed his face. “No, I just got to thinking about how we have nothing for the baby yet.”
There was another metallic clatter then he heard Julie squawk then say Buck’s name with a scold. “Shit, hang on,” Buck said, then there were more muffled noises. Eddie could just barely make out the sound of Buck’s boots on the floor as he jogged somewhere, then he heard the squeak of a chair being dragged.
“Eddie, you still there?” Buck asked finally.
He drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I’m here. Uh, you good?”
“Yeah! Just not what I expected to hear you say.”
“It’s getting a lot less theoretical by the minute here, Buck,” Eddie said, looking down at his lap and running one palm over his bump.
“I know, I know. Shit. Thirty weeks, right?”
“Yeah,” he said. The baby bumped against his hand. He pressed in a little harder, like he could bump her back. “I had some Braxton-Hicks earlier, if I forgot to tell you that. And she’s kicking right now.”
Buck made a strangled sound then sighed. “I should’ve taken today off. Should’ve gone with you.”
“Come here when you get off,” Eddie said, closing his eyes. “Chris isn’t going to school. We’re sleeping in. Use your key and come wake me up in the morning.”
“I will,” Buck said, almost breathless. “Shit, Eddie. We have so much to figure out.”
“Well, we can start by making breakfast tomorrow.” He exhaled slowly. “Okay. Thank you for calming me down. I’m going inside. I think I’m just going to crash.”
Buck hummed. “Good plan. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Eddie. Good night, Squash.”
Eddie gasped at a sharp feeling inside then snorted. “Well, she just kicked one of my minor abdominal organs at that, so I think she says good night, too.”
“Eddie, she knows my voice already,” Buck said. Eddie could hear the grin in his voice.
“Of course she does,” Eddie said. “Even when you wouldn’t look at me the past few months, I was still trying to be as close by to you as I could. We both know your voice.”
“Well, sleep naked,” Buck said with a wet-sounding laugh.
“Mmm, no. But wake me up either way, yeah?”
“Good night. We’ll start buying stuff. I—Eddie, I love you.”
“I love you, too. Be safe,” he added, then hit the end call button on the dashboard’s touchscreen. He stared at the default CarPlay screen for a moment feeling blank but not lonely, then he unplugged the aux cable and finally turned off the engine. He headed inside, stowed the leftovers in the fridge, then went to pee.
He blinked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands after, then kept staring as he went through skincare and brushing his teeth. He could tell his face was fuller. His jaw was maybe a little softer. But he still looked like himself. Oval face, big dark eyes, silvery scar on his lip, sad little frown on his mouth. A five-o’clock shadow, he was pleased to note, and sorry he’d have to shave tomorrow for the funeral. Abuela deserved his fresh face at her service, though.
His phone vibrated with a text from Adriana announcing she’d just landed at LAX and that she’d see him tomorrow. ‘i hear u have some news???’
He rolled his eyes as he walked to his room, then sent her the sonogram.
She tap-backed the double exclamation points and he watched her ellipsis bubble appear and disappear a few times before he tossed his phone on the bed to change his clothes. Despite Buck’s request and the unlikelihood of Chris waking up let alone coming into Eddie’s room for anything, he was not going to sleep naked. He pulled on a clean old t-shirt, basic olive green and washed so many times it was soft and didn’t cling to him. He wouldn’t get to wear it too many times before it would be too small around the middle. He changed into the shorts he usually slept in, though he kept his socks on.
He sat on the edge of the bed and picked his phone back up. Adriana had finally settled on a response, which more than filled the entire screen in a blue bubble, and he laughed as he scrolled up to read it. As he read, two texts came in from Sophia that he flicked the alerts for away, and then something from Buck that he also ignored (though he felt guiltier for that than with his sister).
He hadn’t finished reading the text when Adriana clearly gave up waiting for him and just went ahead and called instead.
“Eddie!” she shrieked as soon as the call connected. “I am in the fucking airport about to fight God and Hertz about my rental car. What do you mean?” She was twenty-five now and so excited to be able to rent her own car that she’d turned down every offer of a ride anyone in the family had made.
“Uh, it’s a girl,” he said stupidly.
“Eddie!” she shrieked again, louder this time. He pulled his phone away from his ear.
“Adriana,” he said back, much duller.
She sighed heavily. “That’s a whole ass baby, Eddie. What the fuck. Who—how?”
“Well, when a sperm meets an egg, fertilization occurs, followed by rapid multiplication of cells as the zygote becomes a blastocyst becomes an embryo,” he said, grinning when she made a frustrated noise.
“I didn’t realize you were interacting with sperm much these days,” she said finally.
He snorted. “Well, uh. I interact with sperm pretty often these days.”
“Eddie!” she exclaimed again before dissolving into giggles. He burst out laughing himself, covering his face with one hand.
When their laughter finally tapered off, he cleared his throat. “So what did Mom say to you?”
“If you could read, you’d know,” she retorted.
“Bummer,” he said. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes at that. He picked at his cuticle.
“She just said ‘your brother has some news,’ and she only, like, omits your name when she’s mad at you. Like you don’t deserve her wasting her breath saying ‘Eddie.’”
“I’m genuinely shocked she didn’t just text you and Soph the news. I don’t actually think I’d care if she did.” He scratched his nose then chewed on the hangnail he just picked loose. He could taste his blood.
“So… you’re gay?”
He blew out a breath. “I’m not labeling. I’m tired of it.”
“Okay, fair enough. I was too little for the lesbian phase. And then the, like, teen mom phase. But I do remember when you came back from the base in Germany with your hair shaved off and were telling us you were Eddie now, and that Chris should call you ‘Dad.’”
He looked up at the ceiling. “God, ‘lesbian phase.’ I was so sure back then, too.”
Adriana scoffed, loud in his ear. “You’re never sure about anything, bro. What?”
“I’m pretty sure now,” he said after a moment, eyes squeezed closed.
She must have heard something in his voice, something Eddie couldn’t keep steady, and she made a soft sound. “Okay. So you’re sure now. So who’s the other dad? Your insane firefighter partner?” she said, obviously aiming for jovial.
Eddie sighed. “Of course it’s Buck’s,” he said. He pinched the bridge of his nose again.
Adriana paused. He could picture her face perfectly, her signature fake lashes fluttering as she blinked hard. They had very similar faces, big brown eyes and prominent, obviously-broken-at-some-point noses. Hers had been smashed against an airbag in a fender-bender in high school right before Eddie moved to LA, so they even bent slightly the same way. He couldn’t wait to watch Buck try not to visibly compare and contrast them later now that he knew Eddie better and wasn’t on a load of painkillers like he had been for Eddie’s shield ceremony.
“I was kidding, but wow, okay. Way to have a type, bro,” Adriana said dryly.
“Hey!”
“Angular gringos with curly hair, bro,” she said, even drier.
Eddie couldn’t argue that. Shannon’s hair had been more wavy than it was curly, but he’d been obsessed with twirling it around his fingers when they laid together and watching it spring back. And Chris’s other parent had also had tight curls; his nickname had been Timberlake in school. But they had both had sharp square jaws and cheekbones, and even back then Eddie had been very aware of why he was involving himself with both of them.
“Buck’s not angular,” he said sulkily.
“Oh, Eddie,” she said, laughing at him again. Then she tailed off. “Okay, I gotta go and actually go fight Hertz. Tell Sophia! And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, yeah,” he said.
He tossed the phone down on his bed after the call ended then let himself flop backwards on the mattress. He stared up at the ceiling and stretched both arms out to the sides, wiggling his toes against the rug and tracing the seam of his pillowcase where one hand landed just short of it.
He picked up his phone eventually and checked his messages. Buck had sent a photo of Hen and Chimney arm wrestling at the dining table in the loft, Ravi and Julie cackling in the background. He tap-backed a heart then took a deep breath before switching to his other sister’s thread.
He and Sophia had never been close. They’d spent most of their childhoods fighting like two cats in a bag, Eddie just shy of a year older. They’d had joint birthday parties until Sophia declared her fifth was hers alone and everyone just agreed. Eddie, six and already anxious about everything, hadn’t argued. He’d just quietly opened the presents for him and eaten whatever bit of cake didn’t get smeared into Sophia’s dress. He never asked for his own parties and would usually end up helping plan Sophia’s. By the time he was ten, he wasn’t sure if his parents even remembered his birthday was the week before Sophia’s. It wasn’t like he particularly wanted a Lilo & Stitch themed party anyway. The idea of Stitch made him way too nervous.
By the time they were in high school, they had entirely different friends groups and rarely saw one another. Eddie had quit dance and was an athlete everyone figured was a lesbian; Sophia was artsy and cool and beautiful in ways Eddie couldn’t fathom. Both popular in their own ways but with very little overlap.
When Eddie got pregnant his senior year, Sophia had laughed until she was coughing. “Guess you’re not a dyke,” she’d said. Then she graduated the next year, went to her dream school, and stayed Mom’s favorite.
Eddie hadn’t spoken more than surface level hellos to her in years. They had nothing in common. She was married and had three kids under five. She got married the spring he got shot, so he had not attended her wedding. He wasn’t sure he cared if she knew he was expecting.
‘mom says you were with abuela the day she died’ Sophia sent earlier, followed by: ‘i want the spoon with the R on the handle she used to measure the spices’
He rolled his eyes and tap-backed a thumbs up to the second message. Then he struggled to sit back up and plugged in his phone on the bedside table before crawling under the covers properly.
He slept hard for a few hours, waking around two in the morning to pee and wander around a bit, feeling restless. He had a few more Braxton-Hicks to breathe through and found himself sitting on the back porch for a little while, exhaling through his nose and staring up at the moon, one hand pressed firmly against his spine.
He texted Buck a selfie, silver in the moonlight, then went back to bed before Buck could reply.
He woke up to Buck sliding into bed behind him, gingerly curling up against Eddie’s back.
“I’m awake,” he said, not moving or opening his eyes.
“Shh, no you’re not,” Buck said, patting his hip. He tucked his knees in behind Eddie’s and settled in, nosing against the back of his neck. “You smell like bad dreams.”
“Thanks,” Eddie said dryly.
“Sweaty,” Buck said.
“Thanks,” Eddie said, drier still.
Buck huffed a laugh against his skin. “Smells kinda good.” He flattened his hand over Eddie’s waist, then with no subtlety at all slid it down over his stomach.
“Buck,” Eddie said.
“What? Your shirt is soft,” Buck said, moving his hand in a circle.
Eddie shivered and elbowed him in the gut, hiding his smile in the pillow when Buck made an exaggerated wounded noise. Buck’s hand moved lower, bunching the fabric up where it overlapped with his waistband.
“I believe I specifically requested you sleep naked,” he said, nuzzling Eddie’s shoulder again.
“I have never slept naked in my life, Buckley,” he said, closing his eyes.
“Mmm, I can remember a couple times,” Buck said, rocking his hips up against Eddie’s ass. He wasn’t hard yet but Eddie could still feel him nudging between his cheeks.
“Extremely extenuating circumstances, which had consequences,” Eddie gritted out.
Buck huffed another laugh. “We are not calling her that,” he said. “Too many syllables.”
“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie groaned.
Buck slid two fingers under the elastic of Eddie’s waistband then let it snap back against his skin. Eddie jumped in surprise. “I’m just saying. The thought of coming in here and finding you all bare and ready for me got me through those last couple hours of listening to Chimney quote Die Hard at me.”
“It is a Christmas movie,” Eddie said very casually, because he’d sat through that exact Chimney lecture at least once a year since he joined the 118, and because he knew the rest of this script well.
“It is not!” Buck squawked just as expected, pulling back a few inches like he was genuinely offended. He peered down at Eddie’s face with his eyebrows so furrowed they became one.
Eddie blinked up at him guilelessly. “You saw it for the first time in, like, 2022. Your opinion is invalid.”
Buck made another outraged noise and flexed his fingers against Eddie’s hip, lightly snapping the elastic again. “It is an action movie that happens to be set in December,” he said. “It is not remotely Christmas-themed.”
“John McClane’s wife is literally named Holly, bud. It takes place during an office Christmas party. It’s a Christmas movie.”
“It’s an action movie,” Buck insisted.
“Yeah. A Christmas action movie.”
“You’re being mean on purpose and I do not deserve it,” Buck said finally, moving back so they weren’t touching anymore.
“Well, your daughter has kept me up most of the night beating up my internal organs,” Eddie retorted, then he felt his cheeks heat up. He laid flat on his back and rested both hands on his stomach.
Buck forgot all about John McClane or holiday movies, propping himself up on his elbow and staring down at him wide-eyed. “Eddie,” he said, “say that again.”
Eddie blinked up at him. “What, that I’m sleep-deprived?”
“No, not that part.”
“That my spleen is probably bruised?”
“Literally impossible, and no,” Buck said. His cheeks twitched from trying not to smile. He reached over and pushed Eddie’s nearer hand out of his way. Eddie let it drop to the bed, twisting away suddenly ticklish when Buck’s palm flattened over the curve of his belly. “This part.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Your daughter?” he said after almost a minute of Buck pouting.
Buck smiled brightly and leaned in, kissing him on the corner of his mouth. “Hey, you’re involved, too. Our daughter,” he said.
Eddie burst out laughing at that, pushing Buck back and struggling to sit up. He rubbed his face with both hands then looked back down at Buck, who was just gazing up at him fondly. He leaned in and kissed Buck’s forehead.
“I think I’m going to need to go on light duty soon,” he said when he sat back up.
Buck raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Already?”
“Already? Buck. She’s going to be here in a few weeks. You can see I already can’t get up properly.” He rubbed his face with both hands again. “My mom was right about me being exhausted. I am.”
Buck’s face softened and he scooted closer, sitting up and wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. He kissed his temple. “I understand. We’ll call the union and we’ll talk to the chief today. They’ll find you something. You’re not the first firefighter to get pregnant.”
“Paramedic,” Eddie corrected automatically. “I passed my exam.”
Buck grinned and pulled him in against his chest, hugging him tighter. “Sorry, Mr. Paramedic. You’re right. They’ll find you somewhere.”
“Anything but Dispatch,” Eddie said darkly. Then he sighed. “Okay, I have to pee. You should get some sleep, though.”
“Come back to bed after you go,” Buck said, letting him go.
Eddie rolled his eyes but nodded. He climbed out of bed, flipping Buck the bird when he heard him muffle a laugh, and headed for the bathroom. He fucked around on his phone while he did his business, distracted by someone being loudly wrong about MLB history on twitter, and was startled by a knock on the door.
“Dad?” Chris’s sleepy voice came through.
“Yeah?” Eddie called back. He locked his phone and set it on the hamper then wiped.
“Buck’s snoring in your bed,” Chris said.
Eddie snorted. “Yeah, we probably gotta get him a sleep test and a CPAP machine,” he said. He took a deep breath then hoisted himself to his feet, pulling his shorts up and sighing. He looked down and smoothed a hand over his t-shirt. He was definitely rounder even than yesterday. “Really? You couldn’t wait ‘til after the funeral to pop?” he muttered.
He washed his hands and splashed his face with cold water to chase away the last bits of sleep-grit in his eyes, then opened the door to let Chris have the bathroom.
“Thought you’d sleep til noon,” he said. Chris squinted at him, his glasses left behind in his room.
“No promises,” Chris mumbled, nudging past him and shutting the door behind himself. Eddie laughed and headed for the kitchen, the sound of Buck’s snores following him down the hallway.
He made himself a bowl of cereal and sat at the dining table to eat, watching a bird fight with the bushes on the other side of the bay window. He ignored his phone vibrating against his thigh. He knew it was his mother wanting to have family breakfast. Probably Adriana, too, her body on eastern time.
He heard the toilet flush and Chris moving around in the bathroom. He got up to wash his bowl and pour himself some orange juice, going up on his tip toes to peer out the window about the sink to see if he could still see the angry bird in the bushes. He dried the bowl and put it away. And then he went back to the bedroom and crawled back into bed. He curled up against Buck’s side and rested his head on his chest, listened to his slow steady heartbeat, and let himself fall back asleep.
-
Buck left him with a kiss and a sheepish smile a few hours later, apologizing for needing to go to his own house for his suit. “I will be back as soon as I can,” he insisted.
“Maybe we should just meet you at the church. It would be out of your way to come back here,” Eddie fretted. He didn’t want to meet him there. He didn’t want to drive at all. The Prius already felt small with just him and Chris, let alone in a few weeks with the backseat full of car seat and baby supplies. He groaned. “Oh, god, I need a bigger car.”
Buck grinned and kissed him again. “I will be back to pick you two up, I promise,” he said before he left. Eddie listened to him saying the same thing to Chris and then the sound of the front door thumping shut.
Eddie went back to trying on various pairs of dress pants, trying to find one that fit both his ass and his bump. Surely there had to be one pair from one of his bulking periods the past few years. He finally settled on a pair so dark blue they looked black in most light. Luckily, he had a black turtleneck and a suit jacket that still fit. He didn’t want any attention from Abuela’s friends or other parishioners attending. Showing up with a man on his arm would be scandalous enough and he’d been successfully stealth since he came to California. They knew him as dear Isabel’s handsome nieto and he wasn’t going to do anything to rock that boat.
Chris came to his doorway and peered in, his dress shirt halfway buttoned and a black tie draped around his neck. “I’m not tying this ‘til I have to,” Chris warned.
Eddie turned away from his dresser, a watch in each hand, and raised his eyebrows. “Okay. That’s fair,” he said slowly. He raised both watches and then his eyebrows.
Chris cocked his head and looked at each of them, then pointed to the one in Eddie’s left hand. “That one. It’s classier. Less firefighter, more… official.”
Eddie frowned at that but he set the rejected watch back down. “I am a firefighter.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to look it,” Chris said. He leaned against the doorframe and took in Eddie’s full ensemble. “You just look kinda fat, by the way.”
He snorted. “Thanks,” he said dryly as he buckled the preferred watch onto his right wrist. He smoothed down his jacket and shook his arms out. “Okay. Kinda fat is fine. No one is going to question ‘kinda fat.’”
Chris pushed off the door frame, steadied himself, then came into the room. He stopped in front of Eddie with narrowed eyes. “And when was the last time you were ‘kinda fat?’” he said, looking dubious. Eddie reached over and pinched him just hard enough to make him squawk and then they both laughed a little.
They moved to the kitchen to wait for Buck to come back, Chris picking at reheated pasta and meatballs and Eddie drinking ginger tea even though he knew he’d just have to pee more later. Eddie fielded texts from Adriana, mostly shots of the view from her hotel room and then her rental car at valet.
‘Glad your having fun!’ he sent back. She tap-backed a thumbs down.
‘*you’re, loser’ she replied.
Chris got up to wash his bowl in the kitchen then sat back down, folding his hands together on the table and leveling Eddie with a serious look. Eddie set his teacup down and gazed back patiently.
“So… what’s the plan for the baby?” Chris asked finally. “Because I can’t help but notice there’s no stuff here yet.”
“I’m still working on it,” Eddie said, grimacing. He picked the cup back up and took a noisy sip.
“Okay, but you should probably work faster, right? Grandma said you’re seven months. I know how long babies take to cook.”
Eddie sighed. “Buck’s sister is planning a shower for us.”
Chris nodded. “And then what, the baby comes and then just shares your room? Doesn’t it need its own space?”
“For the first few months, she would share with me anyway. Newborns need to eat every couple of hours.”
“Put the crib on the far wall under the window, please,” Chris said immediately.
Eddie huffed a laugh at that. “I can do that,” he agreed. “And I’ll get you some better noise-cancelling headphones, too.”
He perked up at that. “Really?”
“Yeah. Within a certain budget,” he added after he saw the dollar signs in Chris’s eyes. He smiled when Chris groaned and slumped back in his seat.
“Okay, fine. Thank you,” Chris said. He looked back up. “Is Buck gonna move in?”
Eddie flinched and looked down at his teacup. Wasn’t that the question. It’s not that he doubted for a second that Buck would agree, or that he didn’t want him to do it. Of course he wanted Buck to live with them, wherever that might be. He wanted to wake up with him there, to share a bed and a kitchen and a family. He wanted to walk around corners and find Buck on his furniture holding their baby and smiling up at him. But they’d both had so much moving and upheaval the past year and it felt like too much to ask. They’d only talked about it one time, literally during sex. That didn’t count.
Eddie had spent the summer watching quietly from the periphery as Buck talked about the house he found with Chim or Ravi or Hen, sitting there wondering why it was so important for Buck to leave. He hadn’t even been invited to tour it with him. Buck slept on Chim and Maddie’s couch for months waiting for it. The house was important to him.
“No, I don’t think so,” Eddie said eventually, not looking up. The collar of his turtleneck felt tight. “I’m sure he’ll still be here a lot, though. Don’t worry. He loves us. But having his own space is his priority.”
“More than being with his family?” Chris scoffed.
“I don’t know, Chris,” he said, tired. He pressed his fingers against his lips for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “But moving out and finding a place was really, really important to him this summer, and we’d obviously already… you know.” He rested a hand on his stomach. The baby wasn’t moving around for once.
Chris made a face then shrugged it off. “Yeah, but you hadn’t talked yet. He didn’t know.”
“I’m not going to trap him, bud. We’ll be here. He knows where to find us.”
“That’s bullshit,” Chris said. Eddie looked up finally and was surprised to see the genuine anger on Chris’s face.
“Hey, no. Don’t say that,” Eddie started but Chris just smacked a palm on the table. Eddie’s teacup rattled on its saucer.
“It is bullshit, though. Don’t tell me not to swear. I’m saying that word so it sinks into you that I’m right. It’s stupid to have two houses. His partner and his baby and his—his… whatever I am. Stepson? I’m here, too.” He waved a hand, frustrated. Eddie just stared at him. “All three of us will be here. Why would he live somewhere else?”
Eddie blinked at him then he smiled, trying not to show his sadness. He probably did not succeed, judging by the way Chris’s anger seemed to melt away into something small and just as devastated.
“We will accept what we are offered,” Eddie said, keeping his voice steady. He took a sip of his tea, watching Chris’s face shift between mutinous and hurt. “That’s it. I feel bad enough about everything as it is. He wanted to move out when he didn’t need to. He didn’t want to be here. And anyway, his house is beautiful. Having that space was worth waiting for for him.”
“Okay, so we could move in there with him,” Chris suggested.
Eddie shook his head. “This is our home. And his house doesn’t have any more space than ours does. It has a garage, so it might actually have even less.”
“So we all move to a bigger house, then!” Chris said, perking up. “The baby will need its—her own room, right?” He blinked. “Oh, it’s a girl. You’re having a girl.”
“Yeah, I’ve told you this. Stop calling the baby ‘it.’ Or at least use ‘they.’ ‘It’ makes me feel like we’re talking about a puppy.”
“Can we get a puppy?”
“No,” Eddie said. He finished his tea. He had heartburn, and he rubbed his sternum.
“So no puppy and no moving in with Buck and just, what, living here half-happy forever?” Chris folded his arms across his chest, frowning when one hand got tangled in the tie still hanging loose around his neck. He wrestled his hand free then frowned at Eddie.
“Half-happy is still pretty good. Most people settle for even less,” Eddie said, getting up to wash his cup and saucer. He checked his phone for the time and chewed on his lip when he saw a message from Buck waiting.
He set his phone next to the sink and washed the cup and saucer first. He dried them carefully and put them back in the cupboard. He wiped his hands. He fidgeted with his own tie. And then he picked his phone back up to check the message.
‘omw!’ Buck had sent.
Buck was clearly trying to be cheerful but neither Eddie nor Chris was in the mood. Neither did more than grunt as he tried to make conversation in the truck.
“Buck,” Eddie said finally, as Buck started to show the strain a bit, reaching over and covering his hand on the gear shift at a stop light. “We’re going to my grandmother’s funeral. Can we just be somber?”
Buck blinked at him, clearly startled, but he nodded. “Right. Yeah. Quiet and contemplative, coming up.”
Eddie squeezed his hand then pulled his own back when Buck had to shift into drive. He folded his hands anxiously in his lap instead and turned to look out his window as they drove through Abuela’s neighborhood. People were starting to put up lights along their fences and the little walls surrounding their yards, even this early in November. There was still some glitter in the gutter of the street from the parade.
“Hey, remember the bean?” Chris asked from the backseat.
Buck hit the brakes and whipped around to look at him, pointing a finger in what was honestly a very Eddie gesture. “Don’t you dare bring up the bean,” he said.
Eddie let out one wheezing noise as he tried to stifle a bark of laughter. He turned and looked at Chris as well, lips sucked into his mouth and clamped firmly between his teeth. Chris just smiled back at Buck. “It always cheers me up to think about the bean,” he said.
“We had to eat frozen broccoli because of the bean,” Buck said darkly.
“It’s not like we ate it frozen. You steamed it,” Chris said, rolling his eyes.
“But I had such a good recipe pinned for those green beans,” Buck lamented. “You liked it when I did make it eventually. With the smoked ham and stewed tomatoes?”
“That sounds good right now,” Eddie said, smiling a little.
Buck dropped them off at the door, leaning over the console to kiss Eddie before he could escape. Adriana, standing on the curb in a neat black dress, waved and wolf-whistled at them as she watched through the windshield. Eddie sighed as he pulled back.
“Sister?” Buck asked, squinting over at her.
“Yep,” Eddie said, watching Chris greet her with a hug. She was taller than Chris in her heels, but not by much.
“See you shortly,” Buck said after Eddie crawled out then turned back to look at him. He waved awkwardly then adjusted his jacket and turned to follow his son.
“Bro,” Adriana said, closing the distance to pull him into a hug. She’d left a lipstick smudge on Chris’s cheek but Eddie ducked away before she could do the same to him. She grinned at him and leaned back on her heels, holding him by the shoulders and surveying him from gelled hair and down. “Your pants are blue,” she said finally.
“They’re the only ones that fit,” he said with a huff, tugging his jacket flaps.
She looked down his torso, eyeing his belly. “Hmm. Better you than me,” she said after a moment then letting him go. She looked at Chris, who was fidgeting with the hand-hold on one of his crutches. “You ready to be somebody’s brother?”
Chris wrinkled his nose. “Babies are whatever,” he said. “I never thought it’d happen. Dad’s not exactly smooth.”
“Well, he didn’t have to be for this one,” Buck said, coming up behind them, keys jangling. He rested a hand on Eddie’s lower back and Eddie relaxed into the touch immediately.
Eddie watched Adriana take him in, her chin tipped up and her eyes cool and assessing. The same skepticism he knew his own face settled into almost by default. Buck looked back at her with a pleasant curiosity, then offered a hand in greeting. “I know we’ve met, but hi. It feels like I should introduce myself again,” Buck said finally.
She shook his hand. “Buck Buckley,” she said, keeping her face deadly serious. Eddie turned his own face to the side to hide the smile threatening.
Buck nodded earnestly. “That’s me,” he said.
She crossed her arms and surveyed him again with an even more critical eye, eyes darting across the breadth of his shoulders and down the length of his legs. Then she looked back at Eddie. “C-section,” she said firmly.
Eddie lost the battle with the smile, covering his mouth with one hand to keep in a bark of laughter. Buck eyed them both warily.
“Adriana is studying to become a nurse practitioner,” he said finally.
“I’m just saying. This is like breeding a beagle and a Pyrenees.” Eddie squawked in protest at being called a beagle, but she just pointed her finger at him. “You already had one giant baby get stuck in the birth canal, and he’s even bigger than your last… sperm donor,” she said, glancing at Chris, who groaned. She ruffled his hair.
“Oh, shut up. You never even met him,” Eddie scoffed. She’d been in the second grade, and it wasn’t like Eddie had been sneaking him into the house. Chris was conceived in a coat closet at a rich classmate’s party, for fuck’s sake.
Adriana rolled her eyes. “I remember pictures. He was a football player, Eddie. He was in, like, every page of your yearbooks, and I loved going through those.”
Buck tensed and looked at Eddie in surprise. “I played football, too,” he said.
“Angular gringos with curly hair,” Adriana sing-songed, looking delighted. “And football, apparently.” Eddie reached over and shoved her shoulder, making her giggle. His cheeks were burning.
Buck’s gaze bounced between them, still wary and not sure if he should be amused or concerned. He pressed his hand a little more firmly into Eddie’s back and Eddie shuffled closer, tucking himself more properly under his arm.
He watched Chris though. The subject of his other biological parent rarely came up, especially so casually, and Chris never seemed curious about him. He’d died in a car accident only a few months after Chris was born, up in Albuquerque where he’d gotten a football scholarship at UNM. He only held Chris once, when he visited them in the hospital. Eddie never saw him again after he left that day. He only had a few pictures. He hadn’t known him well enough to even tell Chris any good stories about him. How do you explain to a child that you were seventeen and horny and trying to convince yourself you weren’t in love with another girl? His parents hadn’t wanted anything to do with Eddie or the baby, and Eddie’s parents hadn’t pushed, glad not to share their grandson. Hell, they barely allowed Eddie to share him.
Chris cocked his head but didn’t look any more curious than he ever did about conversations about Eddie’s youth. That made sense; even to Eddie the stories always seemed like they were about someone else, a stranger neither of them knew. Chris remembered Shannon. She was there for the formative years. She was the parent who mattered, even if she hadn’t contributed any of her genes.
The church bell tolled and they all looked up. Adriana offered her arm to Chris, leading him over toward the steps. Eddie turned to look up at Buck, watching him as he took in the cute little church in front of them. “It’s so small,” Buck said.
“Not all churches are cathedrals,” Eddie said, then he grimaced. “Let’s go inside. I need to pee already before Mass starts.”
-
Buck cried through the ceremony, even the parts in Spanish. Eddie squeezed his hand and kept as stoic as he could. They were both ugly criers; he could keep it together for the both of them.
“It’s weird,” Eddie said when they found a quiet moment before the recessional, still seated because of Chris, who was clearly on discord on his phone and ignoring them. “I don’t remember a single moment of Bobby’s funeral. It’s all a blur. But this feels so vivid. I’m gonna remember every moment.”
Buck nodded, red eyes on a display of marigolds at the end of the aisle. “It’s a different vibe. I wish we’d kept Bobby’s small. Bobby would’ve hated all that ceremony.”
Eddie nodded. “It was for us,” he said quietly. “Funerals are for the living.” He gestured around, turning to watch his family and Abuela’s friends and community milled around and chatted. People were hugging, many smiling through tears as they spoke to each other. She was so loved, he thought. It was hard to be sad in the face of that.
“Fire captains don’t die in the line of duty very often, I guess,” Buck said quietly.
“But grandmothers die in their sleep all the time,” Eddie said, nodding. He leaned their shoulders together and turned forward again to look toward the altar, at her photograph smiling next to the beautiful urn Pepa chose.
Dad and Eddie’s cousin Fernando came over with Liliana’s husband, Brad. “Ready, Edmundo?” Dad asked, sounding tired.
Eddie nodded and got up, straightening his jacket and glancing down at Buck. “I’ll see you outside,” he said, then nudged Chris with his foot and said the same. Chris waved him off without looking up from his screen. Eddie frowned and nudged him harder, boot toe to Chris’s shin. “Hey, bud. A little more respect today, eh?”
Chris startled and looked up. He pushed his glasses up his nose then scratched the corner of his lip. “Sorry,” he said. He tucked his phone in his pocket then looked at Buck, who was frowning at the both of them.
Eddie sighed. “I’ll see you outside,” he said again, then followed his father and cousins to the nave so they could escort the urn out of the church, a little weird being a pallbearer with no casket.
He thought about Abuela as he walked. He was Ramon’s first child but far from her first grandchild, but he was confident he’d always been her favorite. She’d always sensed something in him that needed a little more while everyone else seemed to think Eddie needed less. He tried so hard not to cling to her and he taught himself not to need anything at all.
She named him. He’d gone to her, fresh from his first tour, head freshly shaved, and told her point-blank. He was a man.
She’d sat back on her chair and surveyed him for a long time, tilting her head side to side occasionally and tapping her chin. He tried not to fidget, even letting his tears drip from his chin. Eventually, she pulled a packet of Kleenex from her pocket and said, “Edmundo, dry your eyes. There is nothing wrong with you.”
He’d filed the paperwork that week. He thanked his mother for keeping care of Chris during his tour and moved them in with Shannon, who threw herself into figuring out transitioning in Texas for Eddie. He got his top surgery, not that there was much to do, and he worked every job he could find to save up for his escape. He and Shannon got married. She legally adopted Chris. It worked for almost a year, but there were cracks. Eddie re-enlisted for healthcare while Obama was still in office, then got shot down less than a year in and came home barely held together with tape. Recovery took so long, and eventually Shannon ran and he rotted for a while, until Abuela called and suggested LA as one of the fire academies he was considering.
He exchanged hugs with cousins and great uncles and tías and family friends, so many faces he knew from photographs on walls. One of Abuela’s cousins had trouble placing him in the family, squinting up at him through bejeweled glasses frames. “Whose are you?” she asked, absolutely no trace of Mexican accent in her voice at all. She’d lived up in Sacramento for decades. He wasn’t even entirely certain he knew her name.
“Ramon’s, ma’am,” he said. “Eddie.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, dear. I guess I forgot Ramon had a son. Unless you are a son-in-law?”
“No, ma’am. Ramon’s son,” he said, feeling his smile becoming a bit tense. “I was the one who was in the Army,” he added with a blush. He wasn’t proud of his service, not really, but it was often a key card into spaces that would otherwise deny him.
She brightened, snapping her fingers. “Oh, right! You have a Purple Heart, yes? I remember that now. I’m sorry, Eddito. Why was I thinking you were a girl? Look at you, of course you’re not.”
He didn’t bother to correct her on his medal. “I’m barely a year older than Sophia. We were so close in age you probably just had us mixed up,” he said. He tried not to wince as the baby shifted and pushed against his bladder. Abuela’s cousin didn’t notice, too busy snapping her fingers and giving his shoulder a light smack.
“Oh, your beautiful sister, yes. The artist. Yes, I think you’re probably right that I was conflating you,” she said, nodding. “You were very quiet, if I remember correctly. Isabel didn’t talk about you much as a child, mostly Sophia and Jessica. Pity they couldn’t come. And oh, what’s the little one’s name? I did see her earlier.”
He nodded, swallowing hard and keeping his face neutral. He darted a look around the crowd and hoped that would be the only time he heard that name today. “Adriana,” he supplied. “Don’t let her hear you call her the little one, though.”
She laughed and patted his arm. “Isn’t that always how baby sisters feel?” she said. “I should know. I was the youngest in my family!”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said with a strained smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to find her.”
She patted his arm one more time in sympathy and they moved off in opposite directions. Eddie found Buck and Adriana standing together, cornered by two older women Eddie didn’t know, Chris nowhere in sight. He hesitated until Adriana caught his eye and immediately raised her hand and called his name with wide eyes.
He approached slowly, eyeing the cluster. Buck had a pinched look on his face, Adriana a manic sort of smile. The two women were completely identical from their eyebrows to their elegant black pantsuits. Their only differences were in accessories, one with a jaunty hat in her graying hair and the other with bright pink lipstick he hoped came nowhere near his cheek.
“Oh, look how handsome you are,” the one with the hat said as he approached. He stood next to Buck who immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Eddie blinked in confusion, first at the two women then up at Buck.
“Uh, hello,” he said.
“This is Abuela’s neighbor here, Rosalia, and her sister,” Adriana said.
“Dolores,” the woman with the lipstick added, nodding.
“Thank you for coming today,” Eddie said, still glancing between them in confusion.
“They weren’t sure who I belonged to,” Buck said.
“We worried he might be lost. Not a lot of big white boys in this crowd,” Dolores said, eyeing him appreciatively again.
“Especially such handsome ones,” her sister added with a wink.
Eddie smiled, first at Dolores then up at Buck. “I’m very glad he came with me today,” he said.
“We assumed he must be one of her grandchildren’s partner, but we assumed Adriana here,” Rosalia said. Her voice was higher than her sister’s. “But it seems that is incorrect.”
“You’ll see plenty more of him when he helps us clean out Abuela’s house,” Eddie said, looking back up at Buck and leaning into him a bit. “I’m going to steal him away for now, though.”
The women turned in unison on Adriana, who shot him a panicked look. He just smiled at her and raised a one-shouldered shrug, ghosting his free hand over his stomach where only she could see it. He let Buck away from them, letting his arm drop away quickly. “Where’s Chris?”
“I gave him the keys,” Buck said. “I found a spot pretty close, so he shouldn’t have any trouble getting there.”
“Oh, is he pulling the truck around?” Eddie said, flashing a smile when Buck rolled his eyes.
“He wanted to go sit and listen to music instead of getting his cheeks pinched by terrifying old women.”
“I don’t blame him for that,” Eddie said.
Buck scratched the back of his neck and looked around at the crowd that spilled out into the street as people made their way toward cars. “How are you holding up?” he asked.
“I’ll make it,” Eddie said, waving a dismissive hand.
“Hey, not what I asked,” Buck said, stepping closer again and giving him a concerned look.
Eddie huffed. “I’m fine. Just tired. And sad. And I really want some jalapeño poppers.”
Buck gave him a grim look. “You had a weird look on your face when you walked up to us.”
He sighed, because of course Buck wouldn’t let anything go. “Okay, okay. I got… dead-named in the weirdest possible way.” Buck frowned and started to say something but Eddie shook his head. “No, not to my face. One of the tías was confused whose son I was, then she mentioned my own deadname as one of my sisters, like ‘oh, what a pity she and Sophia couldn’t come.’ I didn’t correct her. It was just weird.”
Buck nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah, that is weird.”
“Like, yep, Ramon’s three daughters and his son,” Eddie said. He shook his head again. “She’s going to really be confused when she hears about me having a baby next year.”
Buck glanced down between them then he paused. “Are you wearing blue pants?”
Eddie groaned. “Nothing else fit, okay? Jesus. Everyone has commented on it. Yes, they’re blue.”
“Are they uniform pants?”
“No,” Eddie gritted out. “They belong to a suit.”
He nodded slowly. “Right. Sorry. They’re just really blue in this sunlight.”
Eddie rolled his eyes then tugged on Buck’s sleeve. “Oh, my god. Come on, we’re going to the cemetery now before my mother finds me and also has something to say about them.”
They made it back to Buck’s truck and Eddie was halfway to a panic attack. Buck was letting him squeeze the shit out of his hand and matching his pace in a way that didn’t even feel mocking. There was no joking ‘what? I just wanted to see how slow it felt to move on your teeny little bulldog legs.’ He let Eddie pull him into a tight embrace right next to the driver side door, Eddie’s face in his chest and arms around his waist under his suit jacket, fucking up his shirt with both hands and his tears.
“Hey, shh, you’re okay—Eddie, baby. Eddie, it’s okay,” Buck murmured into his hair, his own arms wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, one hand cradling the back of his skull. Eddie felt small. He had never felt small in his life except when Buck stretched out like a blanket and wrapped around him, blunting all the sharp spots Eddie normally let crash into his surroundings so he could feel the hurt of impact.
Buck’s neck tilted up and Eddie could feel him shake his head, probably at Chris inside the truck. Eddie let go of Buck’s shirt then tried to smooth it back down into its tuck, then he started wriggling to pull away, cheeks hot with mortification. Buck squeezed him tighter then released, his hand sliding to cup Eddie’s cheek as he pulled back.
Eddie kept his eyes fixed on Buck’s tie, black and smooth, some kind of matte fabric that absorbed the light instead of shining. He’d even worn his tie bar. Eddie rested one hand on his chest, his arm still caught inside Buck’s jacket, and traced his index finger over it. Buck thumbed away a tear on Eddie’s cheekbone and leaned in and kissed him, first his temple then his cheek and then properly on the mouth. Right there on the sidewalk, not even two blocks down from the church. Eddie leaned into it, lifting his chin and kissing him back. His own mouth tasted like tears, metallic and hot, and Buck’s tasted like Buck. That was better.
Buck pulled back first, not far, just enough to separate their mouths. He stroked his thumb across Eddie’s cheek again and Eddie finally blinked up at his face. Buck smiled softly. “God, you have such pretty eyes,” he said.
Eddie huffed and tried to pull away, but Buck had too good a grip on his jaw. He leaned back into the touch, kept his eyes on Buck’s.
“Adriana told me once it was unfair I got lashes like this when I wasn’t even going to use them,” he said. He batted them, making Buck make a sad, choked little laugh.
“Ah, is that why she’s got those big fluffy fake ones?” Buck asked.
“Obviously,” Eddie said. “I think it’s the T, anyway. Makes your lashes longer along with the veiny hands and the bottom growth.”
Buck finally dropped his hand, snorting and giving Eddie a look like he knew this was deflection but he’d let him get away with it this time. “I’m pretty into all three of those things. Thank you, testosterone,” he said dryly.
Eddie nodded and stepped back, reluctantly pulling his hands away from Buck’s sides, letting his jacket fall back against his body. He fidgeted with his own, tugged at the neck of his turtleneck, adjusted his belt even though he could barely see it. “Chris said I just looked like I was getting fat,” he said.
“Mmm, maybe, yeah,” Buck said, leaning back and looking over Eddie’s body again. Eddie glared at him and he put up his hands in surrender.
“I had a lot of trouble getting dressed this morning. Nothing fit.” Eddie swallowed, blinking back tears again. “I don’t like looking like a mess, and I look like a mess. Worse now that I’m all… crying.”
“I wish you’d called me. I would’ve brought some stuff for you to try,” Buck said, frowning.
“Your inseam is six inches longer than mine,” he said, rolling his eyes when Buck couldn’t help but preen at the statement. He swallowed again. “Shut up. How did you end up built like this? Your sister is five feet tall.”
Buck shrugged. “I still could’ve brought you a shirt. And we could’ve figured out pants. I probably have some 34’s.”
“Yeah, from your skinny twink days,” Eddie said, scowling as Buck grinned back at him. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed Chris sprawled in the truck back seat, phone approximately an inch and a half from his face. “We should go.”
Buck nodded. “You want to drive? I know you miss your truck.”
“Yeah, I’ll drive. I know where we’re going.”
-
A week later, Eddie had no more pants that fit at all, including his uniform. He reluctantly borrowed a pair from Giarrussa, who was about his height but much stockier, for a shift and sat down with Chim at the loft table to work out the logistics. He put in an order with their uniform supplier. He looked down and tried to reconcile the way his lap was shrinking.
“I spoke with the chief,” Chim said. “He doesn’t have anything, but Chief Williams does. Apparently, she jumped all over herself to offer it to him for you. You’ve got a fan.”
Eddie blushed. He could feel his cheeks get hot. “Uh, yeah. We’re friends,” he said. “I played poker with her for years.”
Chim raised his eyebrows. “Well, you’ve got a new boss if you want it. Apparently someone in the battalion office is on maternity leave that just so happens to perfectly align with your needs.”
Eddie sat back in his seat and rested a hand on his bump, raising his eyebrows right back when Chim’s gaze settled there. “Has HR figured out what they’re going to call my leave?”
“That’s probably a conversation for Chief Williams,” Chim said. He fiddled with a pen. “You really, uh, popped this week.”
“Yeah. Maybe I just felt like I could finally relax, so my body went into relaxin production overdrive.” He spread his fingers out and looked down. “My hips are killing me this week. She finally let me eat chicken, though.”
“Hey, small victories. Maddie couldn’t have cabbage in the house for months this time. Not that I was there for the worst sickness parts of the first pregnancy, fuck you again, Covid. But cabbage? Not even raw. Do you know how hard that was for me? I am Korean. Cabbage is my staple food.” He grinned. “The day she said it was fine again, I literally cried.”
Eddie smiled. “Buck made this pesto thing with zucchini and chicken for him and Chris, but I was fine with the smell when he was cooking it so I had some, too.”
Like he’d been summoned, Buck appeared at the top of the steps. He came over and sat next to Eddie, scooting his chair closer so he could lay his arm across the back of Eddie’s. He watched Eddie’s hand moving over his bump then smiled up at him. “Hey. Got a new job?”
Eddie huffed a laugh. “Chief Williams wants me.”
“Of course she does. You’re hot shit,” Buck said. Then he frowned at Chim. “Does Chief Simpson not?”
“Chief Williams had a spot open.”
Buck turned back to Eddie, smiling. “Perfect. She’s nicer anyway. And I probably used up all my possible favors with Simpson over getting Harry reinstated at the academy, anyway.”
“I told you not to stalk him to dinner,” Eddie said.
“It was dinner with Chim! I knew where he’d be,” Buck said, rolling his eyes. “And whatever, now you get to… do whatever Williams has you doing instead.”
Eddie turned back to Chim, who was fiddling with his pen again. “What is it, by the way?”
“Paramedic regulations,” Chim said. “Unfortunately, Diaz, you get to play politician for a few months.”
Eddie sighed. “People like me,” he said dully.
He made it through two more shifts on the bus somehow. Being with Hen usually helped him, but she’d never been pregnant and seemed to be off in her own world as well. They were both snapping at each other by the end of the last one.
It was grueling and they didn’t even have a particularly challenging shift, but the climbing and bending were getting very hard to manage. He was thirty-two weeks pregnant and he was ready to be done. He could still run a seven-minute mile, and had two mornings ago just to prove a point to Buck. He could still lift, punch the bag, and even squat. But he was so tired and sore by the end of the shift that Buck dragged him over to his house and made him take a long warm bath with epsom salt. Chris was already at school. Eddie went easily.
Eddie laid there in Buck’s very nice bathtub, staring up at the ceiling. The tub was enormous, clearly one of the house’s selling points. Buck certainly thought so. He’d run the water and helped Eddie in, made sure he had a bottle of Gatorade and some snacks nearby, and then he’d left him to it. Eddie could hear him banging around in the kitchen.
He sniffed the selection of bubble baths and soaks Buck offered, but they all smelled awful. The oatmeal soak was tempting but he didn’t really want to have to shower after.
He let himself sink further into the water until it lapped a ring around his face, soaking his eyebrows and just barely licking at his lower lip. His knees rose up out of the water, not enough room to stretch out flat, but that didn’t matter. His belly was submerged. His hair floated around his head in a weird halo. He could hear his heartbeat and the gurgle of his organs under the water, but everything else was quiet. He closed his eyes and let himself float for a moment.
He opened them again when he heard the door creak open. Buck peeked in and smiled at him, then said something. His voice was too soft and Eddie’s heart too loud, and the water distorted whatever he said into a garbled murmur. Eddie blinked at him then sat up, wincing at the slosh of water around him. He slicked his wet hair back out of his face with both hands, shivering at the air temperature on his wet arms. “What did you say? Sorry,” he said to Buck.
Buck just smiled again. “I’m making some hash for breakfast. I wanted to know how you wanted your eggs with it.”
Eddie shrugged. “Scrambled?” he said. “I can’t have runny right now.” He wrinkled his nose and looked at Buck standing there in boxers and a t-shirt. “Are you already cooking?”
“No, just chopped up the veggies.”
“Wash your hands. I can smell the onion. And then get naked and get in here with me. I want to lean on you.”
Buck grinned at him. “God, it’s hot when you get all bossy.”
“I don’t mean it in a sexy way. I’m sore from all the tendons and ligaments in my body loosening at the same time, and I want to use you like a heated body pillow.”
“Mmm, use me, baby,” Buck deadpanned, but he did quickly wash his hands. Eddie leaned back and watched him, chin to his chest, as he sniffed them, then washed them one more time with the fun green apple scented soap they both bought for Chris.
Eddie smiled at him and then shifted to rest his forearms on the edge of the tub, stretching his hip flexors as he moved. He watched Buck shut the door then quickly shed his clothes. Buck smirked at him as he pushed his boxers down, reaching down to wrap one hand around the base of his half-hard cock.
Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Exhibitionist,” he said. Buck gave his cock a wag at him and grinned, then let go.
Buck sat on the edge of the tub and leaned down to test the water temperature with his fingers. “You warm enough in that?” he asked skeptically.
“I get too hot too fast now. But we could probably replace it,” Eddie said, nodding. He scooted forward to let Buck slip in behind him, pulling the plug as he did so. It was a lot harder to fold his legs up toward his chest than it used to be, he realized with a frown.
“I’ve got some lavender stuff,” Buck said, but Eddie shook his head.
Buck awkwardly moved one long leg over to Eddie’s far side, stretching it out completely and bending the knee to hook it around Eddie’s hip. Eddie turned the water on, testing the temperature with his forearm, then looked back over his shoulder at him.
“You guys should move in here,” Buck said when he noticed, settling against the sloped back and stretching out both arms along the rim of the tub. Eddie stared at his Death or Glory tattoo and said nothing. The water level dropped gradually and others appeared, use me for shade and the string of X’s. Buck was still making his case. “You don’t even have a bathtub.”
“I can just come over any time I want to soak,” Eddie pointed out.
“I want you here,” Buck said, then he blinked in surprise at his own bluntness and turned red.
Eddie stared at him. “You want me here?” he repeated. He shivered, the water draining faster than the faucet could replace. The water level was barely above his hips now, and his hair dripped down onto his shoulders.
Buck scooted closer, tucking his face against Eddie’s neck and wrapping both arms around him. “I want you where I am. Eddie, come on. It doesn’t make sense to have two places.”
“But my house… Buck. It was important enough that… You literally moved into it and then vanished as soon as I came back.” Eddie didn’t understand. He loved that house. Buck loved that house. This new house had no history, no memories.
“Exactly. It has bad memories. Good ones, too. But this is a new space to make new memories with our new person.” He slid his hand from where it was resting on Eddie’s knee to the side of his belly. Eddie shied away from the touch, ticklish, and Buck sighed but did not move his hand.
Eddie frowned and turned his head. “A new space you chose to get away from me.”
“I—Eddie, I’m sorry. I…” He trailed off and tucked his face against Eddie’s neck again, letting out a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t handling my feelings very well. About anything. Losing Bobby. You. Us. The move. I just had to be not there anymore. I needed the space.”
“I would’ve given you anything, Buck,” Eddie said quietly, leaning his head into Buck’s. “I just wanted you to talk to me. Or even look at me.”
“I know that now,” Buck said.
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he admitted, eyes still fixed on the water rushing from the faucet.
Buck exhaled heavily. “I know that now,” he said again.
“I was never hiding it,” Eddie said.
“I think you have no idea how you come off to people, Eddie,” Buck said.
Eddie swallowed and considered that. He stared at the water level against the side of the tub above Buck’s toes. “What do you mean?”
“You’re very hard to read,” Buck said simply. He scooted backwards and leaned against the back of the tub again, spreading his legs and gesturing at the space between them. “C’mon, you said you wanted to use me like a body pillow.”
Eddie adjusted the water temperature again, staring at the faucet and chewing his lip. “In a minute. It’s not deep enough yet.”
“I want to see your belly poking out of the water like an iceberg,” Buck said, grinning when he turned to glare at him over his shoulder.
“I’m not that big yet,” he complained. He probably was. He was terrified he was. He looked down at the curve of it, where the water level hit. It had popped so much.
“Eddie, there is like no room in here with both of us,” Buck said. “You’re going to be all pretzel-y anyway. C’mon.”
He sighed and turned the water off. He scooted his ass backwards, nestling his hips between Buck’s thighs. Buck helped him balance, one hand in his waist and the other gentle on his shoulder, then he let himself lean back into Buck’s chest. Buck kissed his ear and wound both arms around him, tucking him in close.
“Happy?” Eddie said.
“Comfortable?” Buck replied, placid. He stroked one hand down Eddie’s arm and kissed his temple again when he shivered.
Eddie wiggled around a bit, adjusting so he was more reclined and there was less pressure on his hips, legs stretched out more in front of him. He had to flatten both feet on the far end of the tub on either side of the stopper knob. His toes and knees poked out of the water, half of his hairy shins, but he was triumphant in keeping the bump submerged. He turned his head so Buck could see him smile when he noticed.
Buck groaned and let his head thump back against the tub. “Rude.”
“Told you I wasn’t big enough yet,” Eddie said. He rested a hand on his belly and let his palm glide over the curve. “She’s quiet right now.”
“For once,” Buck said. He sat up a little and curled his arm along Eddie’s, tracing his fingers along Eddie’s forearm and wrist then settling his hand over Eddie’s and letting their fingers lace together. “She doesn’t let you sleep enough."
“How do you know?”
“Chris said he hears you walking around at night. And I notice when you get out of bed when we are together. I worry. I’d worry even if you weren’t pregnant,” he added. He kissed Eddie’s temple softly.
“It’s hard to find a comfortable position,” Eddie said. “I can’t lay on my back anymore at all and I can’t breathe right if I’m on my right. And she does move around a lot at night.”
“Sleep here, at least. Even if you don’t fully move in. My mattress is way better than yours. Don’t argue. You know it is. We’ll get one of those support pillows, too. You’ve still got months to go.”
“It feels wasteful,” Eddie said. “Getting stuff for me when this is temporary.”
“If it helps you sleep, it’s worth it.”
“I don’t remember this part when I was pregnant with Chris. Maybe because I was so young?” He shrugged and slipped his hand out from under Buck’s, letting him do what he knew he wanted, which was stroke his hand over Eddie’s skin. He lifted his arm out of the water. “I’m a lot hairier than I was then.”
He felt Buck’s laugh more than he heard it, the rumble of his chest against Eddie’s back. “I don’t think that has anything to do with it, Eddie.”
“No?” Eddie teased.
“You’re bigger now than you were then, too, I’m sure. All over, right?”
“Well, yeah. I was a skinny teenager then.” He closed his eyes and let his head rest back against Buck’s shoulder, twisting slightly to turn enough to press his forehead against the underside of his chin. “I bulked up a lot over the years. I’m over two hundred.”
“It’s all in your ass,” Buck said. Eddie could tell he was grinning.
“Wow,” Eddie said, lifting his head again.
“That was absolutely not a complaint,” Buck said, tightening both arms around him. “I fucking love your fat ass. Fuck, remember that time in the kitchen? I bent you over the counter by the door and fucked you from behind? And then I got down on my knees behind you.”
Eddie nodded. “Made me come like four times,” he said.
Buck nuzzled his temple then behind his ear. “I would’ve happily just kept going like that, my face buried in your ass, sucking my come out of you.”
“Obviously you left some behind,” Eddie said. Buck’s hand slid lower, over his navel that looked absolutely alien already, stopping only as his fingers met Eddie’s pubic hair. Eddie arched up, lifting his hips without even thinking. It was easier in the water.
“You think it was that time?” Buck asked. He kissed the spot below Eddie’s ear that always made him shiver, then again slightly lower, closer to his shoulder.
“Maybe. Who knows,” he said, exhaling softly when Buck’s fingers slid lower, brushing lightly over his dick. He let his thighs fall further open, hemmed in a bit by the width of the tub and Buck’s own huge thighs on either side of his, but it was enough room for Buck’s hand.
Buck made a pleased sound, kissing his neck again and starting to rub slow circles over Eddie’s dick. “I kept you so fucking full of come that week, didn’t I?”
Eddie whined and nodded. “I’ve never had that much sex in my life,” he said. “Of course I ended up pregnant.”
“I never got to have you against the front door,” Buck said, pressing harder.
He moaned and arched up into the touch. “Yeah? Anywhere else we missed?”
“Hmm. I don’t think so, actually.” He kept moving his fingers in those slow, maddening circles. Eddie moaned again as Buck kept murmuring in his ear. “Another reason you should move in here. Think about all the new places we can fuck. This house has lots of weird nooks and crannies.”
“Do not say ‘nooks and crannies’ while you’re fingering me,” Eddie groaned.
“Oh, there are better words for your pussy,” Buck agreed easily. He cupped Eddie’s whole pubic mound in his palm, easing his labia apart with his middle finger then pressing it inside him. He groaned and nodded against Buck’s throat. Buck fucked him deeper and mumbled half-sensical filth at him. This wasn’t why Eddie invited him into the bath with him but he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t think about it a little. He could feel Buck’s cock, hard and insistent and ignored against his lower back. He could turn around, climb on top of him. He wasn’t sure missionary was still on the table at this point but he was sure he could still ride him. They could splash all the water out of the tub, soak the tile floor of Buck’s new bathroom. Or he could stay like this, Buck’s heartbeat thundering in his chest against Eddie’s spine and his thick fingers in Eddie’s cunt. Eddie was going to come either way, and soon.
He gasped Buck’s name, then moaned it even louder. He grabbed at Buck’s wrist with a nerveless hand, just hard enough to anchor himself. Buck used his whole hand, two fingers inside him and the others spread to get a good grip, grinding his palm into Eddie’s dick. It was close to how Eddie fucked himself, when he bothered. But this came with Buck’s breath panting against his neck and his muscles all over, surrounding Eddie from every angle.
Buck’s left hand slid up from where it had been resting on Eddie’s thigh, over his belly and up to his chest. He cupped Eddie’s pec and squeezed lightly, a little tentative.
He shook his head and nudged Buck’s hand away. “Doesn’t do anything for me,” he said apologetically. “No nerves there.”
“You should’ve sued that surgeon,” Buck said.
“I never cared before, either.”
Eddie had never had particularly sensitive nipples. He’d tried breastfeeding Chris exactly once and they both hated it so much they never made any further attempts, both of them in tears while the lactation consultant had patted his shoulder awkwardly and called him sweetie. “It’s not for everyone,” she’d said, then handed him a bottle of formula. He’d opted for top surgery that eliminated that as an option for this baby, for better or worse. He wasn’t any more sore or sensitive there than he was anywhere else in the third trimester, and for the first time he wondered if that was kind of a bummer for Buck, who was an absolute slut for having his nipples played with.
Buck kissed his jaw and the side of his face. “All your nerves are down here, I guess,” Buck said, flexing his right hand instead. His fingers curled inside Eddie exactly right and he cried out. He could feel Buck’s smile against his skin. “There we go,” Buck said, faux-soothing. He kept his fingers moving.
“Fuck me,” Eddie moaned, arching up again and grinding into his palm. He squeezed Buck’s wrist.
“I got you, I got you,” Buck murmured. He sucked on the tendon standing out on the side of Eddie’s neck and his earlobe. Eddie cried out again and clawed at Buck’s arm. Buck kept going, both his mouth and his fingers, and Eddie came with a whimper. He went limp against Buck’s chest as he came down, eyes closed.
“Needed that, huh?” Buck chuckled somewhere above him.
“Mmm,” Eddie replied. He was distantly aware of his body, heels sliding along the bottom of the tub as his legs relaxed. Buck gently pulled his hand away, lifting out of the water to look at his fingers before rinsing them off in the water and resting his hand on Eddie’s bump instead. He stroked soothingly over the skin there and Eddie made another pleased, sleepy sound.
“You want to sleep some more?” Buck asked gently, so close Eddie could feel his lips moving against his temple.
“No, just give me a minute. I can feel your cock,” he said, shifting his hips enough that he could feel the crown of Buck’s cock drag up his lower back again.
Buck’s breath hitched but he just chuckled. “Eddie, you don’t need to do anything.”
“I want to,” Eddie said. He opened his eyes and craned his neck to look up at him. “But maybe in your bed instead of here. I’m getting all pruney.” He lifted one hand and rubbed his softened fingertips together.
Buck nodded. “If you’re sure,” he said.
“Why would I stop at one orgasm when I’ve got you to myself all morning?” Eddie asked, flashing him a grin. Buck kissed his temple and smiled back.
They made it out of the tub eventually, Buck overly cautious about making sure Eddie didn’t slip, practically lifting him out of the tub himself. Eddie rolled his eyes at him, but let him rub him down with one of his ugly gray towels before dragging him to bed more or less by his cock.
They dozed for an hour or so after finishing Eddie’s second round, Buck still curled up behind him with his hand spread possessively over Eddie’s belly. Eddie was up first, pulling on clothes scavenged from Buck’s dresser then going to pee. He came back to find Buck awake in the same spot he left him, blinking at him with a sleepy smile.
He sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to run his hand through Buck’s curls. “Hey. You were making breakfast.”
Buck muffled a laugh into the pillow then propped himself up on his elbow, craning up for a kiss that Eddie leaned down to grant him. “I chopped up potatoes and mushrooms and onions and some peppers. I was gonna make a hash, ‘til someone’s pussy got greedy.”
Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled. “Thank you for your great sacrifice.”
He smiled back. “Mmm, some sacrifices are worth it.” He sat up fully and yawned. “It was good to take the nap anyway. We can come nap some more after we eat, too.”
Eddie nodded. He hauled himself to his feet and headed for the kitchen, trailing his fingers along the brick wall that made up the spine of this weird little house. He could live here, he thought, looking up at the ceiling then over at the line of doors looking out onto the patio and the cute backyard beyond. He turned into the kitchen and folded his arms, looking around. It was smaller than his own but somehow seemed better laid out.
“This is why I picked this place,” Buck said, coming in behind him, bare footsteps much louder than Eddie’s, who had put on socks before anything else.
“It’s kind of small,” Eddie said, moving out of his way to lean his hip against the breakfast bar. He ducked his head to peer through the window into the weird little nook beyond.
“Yeah, but it was designed by somebody who cooks. You can tell,” Buck said. He grabbed a big skillet and set it on the stove as he spoke, going on about workflow for someone right-handed, and how perfect it was to basically just keep turning in a circle. Eddie just watched him with a smile on his face, drifting over to steal a crispy potato cube out of the skillet while Buck was distracted scrambling the eggs.
“I love you,” Eddie said when Buck looked up.
“Good,” Buck said, then smiled like he was getting away with something. He leaned in to kiss Eddie on the lips. He straightened back up and clicked his tongue. “Thief! It isn’t even all the way cooked yet.”
“A piece of potato isn’t going to hurt either of us,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes, one hand on his bump. He looked back down at the skillet of veggies. “It was crispy and perfect.”
Buck’s cheeks and birthmark turned a darker pink, too pleased by the compliment to scold anymore. “Well, don’t. I’ve got raw eggs right here,” he said awkwardly.
Eddie put both hands up and moved away, chuckling. Buck poured the egg mixture into a second pan and let it sit for a minute over the heat while he rinsed the mixing bowl in the sink. Eddie grabbed him on his way back past and kissed him again, just because he could. He was going to enjoy these last few weeks of being able to do that without worrying about the baby fussing.
Buck pulled back after a minute, apologizing, then went to stir the eggs around in the pan, breaking up the curds as they started to set. He ground some pepper and salt over a few times, humming to himself. He adjusted the heat to be lower, then glanced over. “Do you want cheese on them?”
“Sure,” Eddie said. Who said no to cheesy eggs?
Buck smiled and went over to the fridge, coming back with a deli container full of some kind of grated yellow cheese. “It’s just cheddar I got at Ralph’s, but I’m trying to do the Bobby thing where I grate it myself so I’m not eating all that cellulose. Plus there was that listeria recall on shredded cheese, and with the baby, I’m not risking that.”
Eddie held out his hand. “Cheese tax,” he said.
Buck rolled his eyes but popped the lid and let Eddie take a handful first before he sprinkled it across the top of the eggs in the pan. He turned off the burner and put a lid on the pan to help melt the cheese, then put the container back in the fridge. Eddie washed his hands then grabbed some plates from the cupboard. He let Buck dish up the food and got them glasses of orange juice instead, meeting Buck at his dining table. They sat with their ankles tangled together as they ate, Buck talking about wanting to host Thanksgiving for everyone since miraculously it fell on A-shift’s off day this year and he’d never cooked a turkey before.
Eddie had no opinions on Thanksgiving. His mother was an adequate cook at best and he didn’t particularly like most of his family. For most of his childhood, it had just been a long weekend off school, often spent at travel dance competitions for him or one of the girls, and then when he was an adult he was either overseas eating distressing mess hall interpretations of Thanksgiving dinner or volunteering to work.
“My lease ends in February,” he said as they finished, nothing left but a few scattered bits of vegetable detritus on both their plates.
“I know,” Buck said.
Eddie set his fork down and sighed. “I know you know. I got the renewal offer on Monday. I haven’t responded yet.”
“Eddie, come on. You know how I feel.”
“Do I?”
“I want to be where you are. I’d rather it was here with me in this house.”
Eddie blinked then looked down at his empty plate. “I don’t understand why you left.”
Buck let out a long breath. “I was dying, okay? It didn’t really have anything to do with you. I was drowning in grief. I didn’t know which way was up or where I was. I was still grieving losing you, too, you know?”
“You had me,” Eddie said, frowning. “You had me in every room of my house, multiple times a day.”
Buck waved a hand but didn’t look up or even smile. “That was sex. Cathartic, amazing sex, but it wasn’t having you. We never talked at all, Eddie. We just fucked a lot. Usually without even looking at each other. At the time it was just, like, ‘I’m alive and Eddie is here, thank god.’ But you were going to leave and we both knew it. It was just a week or whatever. And you were gonna go back to Texas forever, and I was determined I was not going to cling.”
“So you threw it away instead?” Eddie said gently. “When I decided to move back?”
“I needed space, Eddie. I couldn’t stay there. It would’ve been terrible for everyone.” He set his own fork down and finally looked at Eddie.
“It was terrible for everyone either way,” Eddie said. “I missed you so much.”
“But we never would’ve talked about anything. And where would I have slept? In your bed? No. I wasn’t going to haunt your couch.”
“So you haunted Maddie and Chim’s instead?”
“I didn’t expect it to take so long to be able to move in here,” he snapped. “I really fell in love with this house, okay? And I want you and Chris to move in here with me and I want to spend the spring being able to walk the baby up and down the patio when she cries, and I want to cook you breakfast in that kitchen every morning.”
Eddie blinked. He picked up an abandoned bit of mushroom with his fingers and ate it. He swallowed hard. Then he nodded. “Okay. We’ll talk to Chris first. The second bedroom here is weird. But okay. I want to be where you are, too. And if you’re here, okay.”
Buck sniffled and reached over, grabbing Eddie’s hand and squeezing. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You get to do all the scrubbing so we get my deposit back, though. I’ll be busy,” Eddie said. He was crying, too, he realized.
“We’ll hire someone,” Buck said. “I’ll be busy, too.”
Eddie scooted his chair even closer and kissed him. Then he pulled back and smirked at him. “I believe you’ve fucked me on this table before, but it was in a different dining room. What do you say we test it out here?”
-
It took almost no effort at all to convince Chris to move again. He was in as soon as he heard Buck had a hot tub. Eddie might’ve expected that, he thought wryly. He was also, oddly, obsessed with the back patio and talked Buck into putting up a hammock.
They moved the bulk of their stuff over the same week Eddie agreed to move at all, then the rest they wanted to keep over the course of the next two weeks ahead of Thanksgiving. Eddie never slept in his old bed again, laughing when Buck made sure of it by hauling his mattress to the curb himself.
His first day in Chief Williams’ office went smoothly. He found office-acceptable pants with an elastic waistband thanks to reddit, wore a lot of baggy department-branded quarter zips, and spent most of his time sitting behind a desk.
Buck was having a harder time adjusting to Eddie’s absence again. Ravi texted a lot of audio messages of Buck giving long, rather whiny monologues during their downtime, which garnered exactly no sympathy from anyone else on the crew. They all had partners who worked elsewhere, obviously.
“We all miss Eddie, Buck,” Chimney had interrupted tiredly once.
“But Eddie’s not carrying your baby,” Buck had complained.
“And thank god for that, because I don’t think any of us could deal with you if that was the case,” Hen had said, very dryly.
“Well, you should’ve considered this when you raw-dogged him, buddy,” Chim had said while Buck sputtered and the others laughed.
‘i’m still glad you rawdogged me’ Eddie texted to Buck, getting the middle finger emoji back in response.
‘did ravi send you a snap video or what???’ Buck sent.
‘Something like that. miss you too’ Eddie replied.
‘should we deepfry the turkey tomorrow?’
‘NO’ he sent back, horrified. ‘Absolutely not are you trying to burn down our house?’
‘oh noooooow its “our” house ok eddie’
He chuckled and set his phone aside, turning back to the email he was writing to confirm someone’s license to one of the captains in this battalion. He spent a lot of time writing emails, he’d found.
He was home by six, which was nice. Chris arrived just after he did, dropped off by a friend after robotics club and a homework hangout. His son having friends old enough to drive themselves was going to take some getting used to, Eddie thought, shaking his head. The two of them ate leftovers and watched some funny fails videos on youtube together for a while before Chris drifted off to his new bedroom and Eddie straightened up the house before going to curl up in their bed with his laptop.
Buck would be home in the morning, sleep for a few hours, then start cooking the turkey. Most of the sides and pies would be taken care of by the rest of the family, but Buck insisted on handling the bird himself. Eddie bought wine and made sure they had enough chairs, having specifically kept his own just in case, stowing them in the garage when they moved in.
The baby kept him up for most of the night, much to Buck’s dismay as Eddie kept answering his texts throughout the shift. He genuinely tried, curling up with the pregnancy pillow Buck bought immediately when they moved in, playing soft music, even lighting a lavender candle. Every time he drifted off, she moved again or another Braxton-Hicks struck, or there was a sound outside. One thing the house did not have going for it was good sound-proofing on the exterior doors, and unfortunately there were a lot of them.
He had given up and relocated to the couch by the time Buck got home, grumpily sipping a cup of herbal tea and glaring at the television. Buck dropped down next to him and groaned, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
“Did you get any sleep?”
“Not really,” Eddie admitted.
“Me neither,” Buck said. “The holidays make people so stupid.”
Eddie leaned his head on top of Buck’s and lifted his arm around Buck’s shoulders, tugging him in closer. Buck snuggled right in, resting his hand on Eddie’s stomach like he’d maybe been trying not to but couldn’t resist. The baby definitely knew Buck’s voice and was moving around a bit again.
“How are you?” Buck asked, tipping his head up to look at Eddie.
“Tired. Fat. Missed you.” He ran his fingers through Buck’s hair. It had dried rough and a bit frizzed, like he’d used the shitty Suave they had at the station. “You get messy last night?”
“Just a house fire, so I was all sooty. I didn’t want to be gross when I came home to you.” He moved his hand slightly, chasing a kick. Eddie could feel his cheek move when he smiled when he felt it.
“Mmm, I’m thankful for that,” Eddie said.
Buck groaned. “Do not make Thanksgiving jokes. I want to cry that I have to cook the turkey in, like, three hours.”
“It takes, what, four hours?” Eddie asked. He ran his fingers through Buck’s hair again, petting him. He vaguely remembered Buck talking his way through the turkey weight to cook time chart earlier in the week.
“Ish, yeah. Everyone will be here at four.”
“It’s been brining for a few days. You have the stuffing prepped and ready. The roasting pan is out. All you have to do is shove the stuffing in and stick it in the oven. You did the hard parts already.” He kept stroking Buck’s hair.
“I know. I just want it to be perfect. Bobby’s was last year.”
“Oh, Buck,” Eddie said softly, hugging him closer. “First of all, I’m pretty sure Athena actually cooked the bird.”
Buck let out a startled laugh, lifting his head. “Okay, yeah, I think she did,” he said.
“So there. And just think about where we were this time last year. You were still in the loft. Chris was in Texas. And now we’re all under one roof and we’ve got the baby on the way very soon.” As if to punctuate Eddie’s words, she shoved a limb hard into Buck’s hand where it was still resting next to Eddie’s navel. Buck jerked his hand back in surprise, looking down. They both watched her do it again, the little movement visible even through the old t-shirt of Buck’s that Eddie was wearing.
“Whoa,” Buck said, eyes wide. “That’s so cool.”
Eddie tried to smile but it definitely felt more like a grimace. “Yeah. Sure. That is a word you could use. Now you see why I don’t sleep?”
Buck grinned. “Well, just think. She’s about to run out of room in there, so pretty soon she won’t be able to.” Then he grinned even wider. “Squishing Squash.”
“She’s already squished. She’s measuring eighteen inches already, Buck,” Eddie said, exasperated. His OB didn’t seem concerned, exactly, but she did raise her eyebrows at the last ultrasound then looked up and warned him if he went the full forty he was probably looking at a ten-pounder. She’d laughed when he relayed Adriana’s beagle-and-Pyrenees joke and assured him he was a high percentile in size himself so he should be just fine. “She’s going to be out of space next week.”
“I love watching you waddle, though,” Buck said, cuddling in closer again and kissing Eddie’s cheek.
Eddie was definitely waddling. He wondered how many times someone would helpfully point it out to him at dinner that night. He’d put the over/under at five, but Chimney might reach that on his own.
“Well, then you can watch me waddle back to bed. C’mon. I want to use you as a pillow again.”
Buck groaned but got to his feet then helped pull Eddie up off the couch. He smirked at him and walked about four paces behind as they headed back to bed, eyes absolutely on Eddie’s ass when Eddie glanced back at him.
“Don’t even think about it,” Eddie warned as they climbed in bed.
“You can’t even do squats anymore. How is your ass still so perfect?” Buck complained, letting Eddie arrange him how he wanted so his belly was propped on him. Eddie tucked his leg over Buck’s hips for good measure, finally settling with a long exhale.
“Genetics,” Eddie said, unconcerned. “And I can still do squats.” He settled his head on Buck’s chest, closing his eyes as soon as he could hear his heartbeat.
Buck kissed the top of his head and fiddled with his phone. He had his volume on for some reason so Eddie could hear every little tappy click and bloop as he set alarms and sent messages. He pinched Buck’s waist after a few minutes and grumbled, “Go to sleep,” without even opening his eyes.
They were both groggy when the first alarm went off at noon, both of them so tired neither had moved an inch from the position they were in when they fell asleep. Eddie sighed and shifted his hips as Buck fumbled to turn off the alarm, and they both sat up. Eddie pushed his hair back out of his face and frowned. “You want help?”
“With stuffing the bird?” Buck asked, then shrugged. “You probably don’t need to be handling raw poultry.”
“It’s not like I’m going to lick the raw carcass,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll come sit in there while you do it, though. Keep you company.”
Buck snorted. “More like take embarrassing video of me.”
“That, too,” Eddie agreed immediately. “But maybe once the bird’s in the oven I’ll suck your dick.”
“Well, shit,” Buck said, suddenly flustered.
Chris was awake and curled up on the couch with Buck’s soft orange blanket. He grunted good morning to them when they passed the archway between living and dining rooms on the way to the kitchen. Eddie detoured to check if he wanted anything to eat, then dragged a dining chair with him to the kitchen to sit on while he watched Buck wrestle the turkey.
Buck smirked at him and narrated what he was doing like he was hosting a cooking show, exaggerating every time he referenced the recipe he was working from. It had been printed out, likely at the station, and was covered in notes to self in Buck’s chicken scratch handwriting.
“Can you even read that?” Eddie asked skeptically. “You should’ve let me recopy it.”
“Your handwriting is what keeps you from being truly stealth, you know,” Buck said absently, glancing up from the recipe.
Eddie blinked at him then sat up straighter and pointed at his stomach with both hands. “Buck.”
“What? No, I mean… You have such curly, loopy handwriting, man. I love when I see it on stuff. It’s pretty.” He smiled and Eddie decided not to be offended, although he sat back and continued to frown at him. “I should’ve had you recopy this, though. At least then it would look nice. And you’d be involved! Hey, we should make a family recipe book like that.”
“Oh,” Eddie said, smiling at the thought. He made a mental note to make sure he got the one that lived in Abuela’s kitchen. “That’s actually a great idea.”
Buck gave him his rare small, pleased smile. “Yeah?”
Eddie relaxed back against the chair, trying to stretch his lower back and resting one hand on his bump. He nodded. “Our combined family recipes in a notebook? Yeah. We can put in some of Bobby’s, too. I know your folder of those is a mess. Like the snickerdoodles one missing the cream of tartar. We can get Athena’s input for those, too.”
Buck nodded eagerly. “Yes! I love this idea. Text the group chat about it while I do this,” he said, then turned back to the recipe sheet and mumbled to himself.
Dutifully, Eddie texted the 118 and Spouses chat, presenting his idea and asking for their interest in contributing. He figured most of them were probably working on their own dishes but got back enthusiastic responses from most everyone very quickly.
‘It will give me something to do while i’m on pat leave besides baby care’ he hedged it, hoping he wasn’t been too obvious that this was the most romantic gift a person could possibly give to Buck, possibly even more so than the baby herself. Sorry, Squash, he thought with a smile.
When he looked up again, Buck was elbow deep inside the turkey, looking a little weirded out, his tongue caught between his teeth as he concentrated.
“Does the recipe require you fist the turkey so aggressively?” Eddie asked, raising his eyebrows.
“I’m shoving stuffing in here, okay?”
“Up to your tattoo?” Eddie said, tapping the band of words around his own forearm.
Buck looked down then grinned at him. “Guess so, yeah.” He shoved his hand a little deeper and somehow produced a gross wet squelching sound, looking delighted when Eddie gave him a disgusted look. “Gotta really get it in the nooks and crannies.”
Eddie groaned. “That phrase is even less sexy now, and it was already starting from zero.”
“Prude,” Buck said, pulling his hand out and wiggling his fingers. They were somehow both wet and covered in clumps of stuffing, soggy-looking bread bits and chopped celery by the look of it. Eddie just stared at him, begging him with wide eyes to stop, which naturally just made him laugh harder.
The sound of Buck’s laughter drew Chris’s attention, luring him in from the living room. Another unanticipated benefit to this house was how many more surfaces and edges it had that Chris could use to balance when he walked, giving him a reprieve from using his crutches as much and saving his forearms. It also made him much quieter; he’d sneaked up on them more than once already.
He came up behind Eddie and rested a hand on the back of his chair, startling Eddie. “Is the turkey that funny?” Chris asked.
Buck wiggled his stuffing-covered fingers at him, too. “Hey, Chris!” he said brightly. He picked up another big handful of the prepared stuffing mixture.
“Buck is a pervert,” Eddie said primly.
“That kinda says more about you than him, Dad,” Chris said after a moment, squinting at Eddie first and then Buck. Eddie kept his face neutral and stared back, but Buck started laughing again, so hard he dropped the handful back in the bowl with a wet splat. He wiped a tear from his cheek with his shoulder, still wheezing.
“You wanna help?” Buck said once he calmed down a bit, raising his eyebrows at Chris.
“Really?” Chris said, perking up.
“Hell yeah, go wash your hands. I’m gonna have you do this while I get the butter ready to shove under the skin,” Buck said. He put a few more handfuls in the bird’s cavity while Chris washed his hands.
Eddie sat back, watching them with his chest feeling tight in a good way for once. He took a quick video and lots of photos of them working together. While Chris worked, Buck made some kind of compound butter with garlic and herbs, narrating again like he was Alton Brown. Once the bird was stuffed, Buck showed Chris how to truss its legs with some twine, smirking at Eddie over Chris’s head and mouthing what had to be ‘bondage!’ until Eddie rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh.
Chris was less impressed with the sliminess of peeling the turkey’s skin back to smear the compound butter between it and the meat, although he did grudgingly admit it was pretty with the green of the herbs peeking through as Buck carefully arranged the fronds of the rosemary and tarragon.
“It keeps the turkey meat moist and it makes the skin crispy. Two-for-one improvement,” Buck said. “Turkey’s kinda dry, you know?”
“Yeah, turkey sucks,” Chris agreed. “No offense.”
“No! This turkey will not suck,” Buck said, patting the bird right on one breast. It sounded like thumping a baby’s chest to burp them, and Eddie stifled a laugh, not wanting to interrupt their bonding moment. He did make a mental note to bring up the turkey the first time Buck burped Squash, though.
Chris gave Buck a dubious look. “If you say so. Butter is great but I feel like it can only do so much.”
“You’ve only had your abuela’s turkey,” Eddie said, then turned pink when they both turned to look at him like they’d forgotten he was there. “My mother cooks a turkey like it’s done something wrong and we all have to be punished,” he added, mostly to Buck, who made the closest approximation to Mom’s Lemon Face that Eddie had ever seen on someone who wasn’t related to her.
“It was nasty last year,” Chris said, nodding. He looked back at Buck’s turkey. “Is it going in the oven now?”
Buck nodded. “We’ll check on it in an hour or so, to make sure it doesn’t need a little tinfoil tent.” Eddie scooted his chair back to give him more room to open the oven and shove the bird inside, off on a tangent about preheating to a higher temperature and then reducing versus a consistent temperature. Turkeys are not macarons, apparently.
“Revolutionary,” Eddie said dryly.
Buck looked at Chris. “Your dad is very grumpy today.”
“The baby doesn’t let him sleep,” Chris said, nodding. Then he frowned at Eddie. “You’re never going to sleep again, are you? Because once she’s born she’ll be awake all the time, too, right? Jee didn’t sleep. I remember that.”
Eddie and Buck exchanged an alarmed look. Eddie wasn’t sure what Buck’s damage was, but he had not considered that Chris was aware of that, or that it might be a concern Chris had. Eddie tried so hard to make sure Chris didn’t have concerns about anything. “You didn’t sleep, either,” he said finally, trying to sound dismissive. “It’s just how babies are.”
“Yeah, but I was, like, not diagnosed yet, so you didn’t know how to take care of me right yet,” Chris said very matter-of-factly.
“You were a very wiggly baby,” Eddie said slowly, trying to swallow down the panic in his chest. He took a deep breath and tried to shrug casually. “Nothing we did could get you to settle, it felt like.”
Chris nodded again and scratched his chin. “I know. Grandma talks about it sometimes.”
Eddie could only imagine how unflattering her opinions on how he handled the first few months of Chris’s life were. Getting to Basic had been such a relief. No drill instructor could match Eddie’s mother in disdain, not even when they found out his ASVAB and line scores and decided he needed brought down a few pegs. He’d just worked harder.
“Well, maybe Eddie should go lie down now,” Buck said, eyeing him with concern.
“That was already the plan,” Eddie said, trying not to sound too grumpy. He was exhausted and he did want to go lie down, in fact.
He let Buck mother-hen him down the hallway to the bedroom and didn’t even protest when Buck tucked him in with a kiss to the forehead. He slept hard, with weird hazy dreams where he was bored on base in his fatigues, listening to a Lady Gaga song that didn’t exist on the radio. He woke up thirsty and disoriented, the sunlight coming into the room at a golden hour angle, the sound of a crowd of voices muffled by the door.
He sat up and rubbed his face with both hands before checking the time on the bedside clock. Buck had made him leave his phone in the kitchen so he wouldn’t get distracted or bothered by the alerts. It was almost five o’clock, he realized. He stood up as quickly as he could and hurried around to change, hissing at the chill in the room coming from the patio doors.
Someone laughed again, close to the door. “Shh, Eddie’s asleep,” he heard a child’s voice admonish someone, then Chim’s apology.
He smiled at that, then pulled on one of Buck’s baggier sweaters over his long-sleeved henley, adjusted the waistband of his pants, and frowned at his hair in the mirror. He licked his fingertips and tried to fix a particularly chaotic chunk then sighed. He opened the door and peeked out.
Chimney was helping Mara and Chris set the table, with Jee standing on a chair with her hands on her tiny hips as she directed them. All four of them turned to look at him and he waved awkwardly. “Hey, guys.”
“See? You woke him up!” Jee scolded her dad.
“I was already up,” Eddie said, coming out of the bedroom and pulling the door closed behind him. He consciously tried not to waddle over to the table, crossing his arms and giving it a critical look. “Who’s in charge here?”
“Me!” Jee said, grinning. She pointed at her own chest.
“She’s a tyrant,” Chris said, then re-adjusted the forks he was arranging at a place setting.
“I see,” Eddie said. “But are you willing to face the consequences of her wrath?”
Chim shook his head gravely. “No, we are not,” he said. Mara and Chris bobbed their heads in agreement.
“We need red napkins,” Jee said, crossing her own arms.
“We don’t have red napkins, unfortunately,” Eddie said. “But we do have some red leaf garland.” He offered her a hand, then helped her hop down from the chair. “C’mon, it’s in the living room. You can decide where it should go on the table for decoration while we let your employees here finish the table settings.” They both ignored the snickers from the rest of the group, Jee with a pointed glare.
He led her over to where Buck had arranged some decorations around the front door, one of which was a long strand of garland of little felt autumn leaves that had moved in with Eddie. Jee approved of the addition with an imperious bob of her head, and Eddie carefully took it down from around the door. “Here, get your dad to help you put it on the table,” he said, handing it over to her.
She nodded and yelled thank you over her shoulder as she hurried back to the table. Eddie turned around to find Maddie and Athena sitting on the couch, baby Robbie in Athena’s lap, all three of them blinking up at him.
He blinked back, then gave a small, awkward wave. “Uh, hi. Welcome.”
Athena raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips, while Maddie just smiled and lifted her wineglass to him. “Hey, Eddie,” she said. He could feel both of them looking him up and down and tried not to visibly shrink under the scrutiny.
“Sleep as much as you can now,” Athena said, nodding, eyes flicking from his bump back up to his face. She bounced Robbie on her knee.
“That’s the idea,” he agreed. He fiddled with the zipper pull on Buck’s sweater then gave them a tense smile. “Well, I’m going to find Buck,” he said, then he hurried out of the room. He could hear Buck’s voice in the kitchen.
Buck was standing in front of the fridge with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning at Hen and Karen, who had seemingly taken over the kitchen. All three turned and greeted Eddie, both women immediately abandoning their tasks to sandwich him in a big, warm hug. He caught Buck’s smile over Karen’s shoulder.
Karen pulled back after a moment. “Wow, look at you,” she said, shifting her weight to her back foot to look him up and down.
He could feel his cheeks heat up. “Yeah. No hiding it now.”
She looked over at Buck. “Try not to look so proud of yourself, Buck,” she scolded playfully.
“He walks around looking like that all the time,” Hen said, grinning. “You should’ve seen him at work Eddie’s last couple of shifts. Peacocking around while Eddie—no offense, Eddie—” she added an aside, glancing at him “—was waddling.”
Karen hugged him again as he rolled his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“I already miss being able to see my feet,” he said with a dramatic sigh, because that was what people expected from someone who was just about eight months pregnant. The script for this was easy. Next they’d ask about names, birth plans, his weight gain. Maybe how they were settling in living together, or how Chris felt, or when he’d start his leave.
“But how are you feeling?” Karen said again, brow furrowed.
He blinked at her. “Hmm?”
“With all of this?” she said, very gentle. He realized what she was asking and looked away, blushing. She moved closer again and squeezed his shoulder.
Eddie glanced at Hen, who also looked sympathetic, and then Buck, who nodded. “I am getting through,” he said, leaning into her.
“We’re here for you,” she said, nudging their temples together and smiling. “Buck can take care of the baby. Eddie’s important, too.”
“Unfortunately, he can’t take care of the baby yet,” Eddie said with a small laugh.
He let Karen bully him out of the kitchen to get off his feet, leaving Hen and Buck to the cooking and following her back to the living room as she brought Maddie and Athena more wine. Denny had appeared from somewhere and was sitting on the floor in the hallway, rolling a basketball back and forth with Chris, while Mara and Jee played with Robbie having tummy time. It occurred to Eddie that next Thanksgiving would be even more chaotic; both Robbie and likely his own daughter would be walking by then.
He sat in his favorite old chair, one that he’d bought with Shannon when they got their first apartment. It was showing its age, its cushion sagging and part of the upholstery damaged in the most recent move. It had traveled from Texas to California twice; Buck had frowned when Eddie moved it into his Keep pile but Eddie just frowned back at him until he put up his hands in acquiescence. He pulled Buck’s soft orange blanket around his shoulders and curled up as best he could, losing the battle with dozing off despite the conversations happening around him. He was vaguely aware of someone tucking the cowboy duck throw pillow under his head, mumbling a thanks.
The next thing he knew was the sound of the front door opening and the last few stragglers arriving, Ravi with Harry and May. They were all three carrying bakery boxes and laughing, even as Athena got up to scold them for their tardiness. At the same time, Buck called, “Turkey’s done! Table up!”
Eddie groggily waved everyone else on ahead, slow to unfold from his chair. Someone had adjusted the blanket to cover him up better while he was dozing, and when he checked his phone there were a handful of photos of him sleeping from various angles. In one of them, Jee was leaning on the arm of the chair and peering down into his face like she was figuring out a puzzle; in another Buck was leaning over him and adjusting the duck pillow so his neck was at a better angle, a look on his face so egregiously in love that the picture had five green disgusted emoji tap-backs in the group chat.
He looked up to find Karen still sitting on the couch, a sleeping Robbie in her chest. When she noticed Eddie looking, she wiggled the fingers of the hand on the baby’s back in greeting. Robbie looked very cozy.
“Good nap?” she said. “This one's making it look like a good idea, too. And we haven’t even eaten yet.”
Eddie yawned and nodded. “I don’t actually think I am hungry right now,” he admitted.
“Yeah, same. I was cooking all day.”
“I just have baby brain today,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards one temple. “Foggy.”
“Buck mentioned she’s really active at night so it’s been hard for you to sleep when he came in earlier.”
He nodded. “If it’s not that, I’m peeing, or the neighbors are loud. She’s just getting me ready for after she’s home and I’m up every other hour to change her or feed her.” He tried to keep his voice light about it but Karen just gave him a concerned look until he sighed. “I’m seeing a therapist, don’t worry,” he said.
She nodded. “Good. And don’t forget you have all of us. Once she’s home, I mean. It won’t just be you, or even just you and Buck.”
“I don’t know how to mentally delegate that, I guess. I was alone with Chris because I was so scared my parents would take him away from me if I so much as blinked.” He rubbed his forehead. “Part of me still hasn’t accepted it’s happening at all.”
May came over and sat next to Karen with a big glass of wine, leaning in and peek at Robbie’s cute sleeping face where he was drooling onto his baby blanket on Karen’s chest. She glanced up and noticed Karen and Eddie’s serious expressions too late, then hesitated. “Uh, sorry. I can go. It’s just really crowded in the other room and Harry and Buck are arguing about gravy.”
Eddie shrank back in his seat and shook his head. “No, you’re fine. Please join us.”
Karen nodded. “I’m a baby mattress right now, anyway.” She shot Eddie a smirk at that because, well, so was he.
“He is passed out,” May agreed, smiling at Robbie.
“I’m jealous,” Eddie said with a laugh.
“I want to be so unconcerned about the world, right?” Karen agreed, stroking her fingers over Robbie’s downy hair.
May sat back, wine glass to her chest, and checked her phone with one hand, smiling at her screen.
Eddie pulled both hands back under the blanket draped over him, considering curling back up and closing his eyes again. He rested one hand on his bump, but she’d gone quiet for once. Or maybe she was actually out of room now.
“I noticed Buck’s been decorating the patio,” Karen said.
Eddie would admit without even that much duress that it’s turning into a beautiful space. Buck bought a grill and strung up some Edison bulb lights along the gutter and is telling anyone who stands still long enough near him about his plans for a container garden in the spring. “Yeah, he wants it to be a gathering space like how Bobby and Athena’s house was.”
“He should buy one of those outdoor heaters for all seasons,” Karen said. “It’d be nice to sit out there today. It’s sunny but it’s cold.”
“He says the hot tub is enough for him for now,” Eddie said sourly. “Which is fine for people who can currently use the hot tub.”
“Who can’t use the hot tub right now?” May asked, tuning back into the conversation, setting her phone on the coffee table facedown.
“Oh, dear,” Karen said, looking at Eddie.
May narrowed her eyes, looking from one to the other. “Okay, what don’t I know?”
“So I am possibly very pregnant right now,” Eddie said slowly.
May narrowed her eyes even more, leaning in toward him. “Is that why you’re on leave from the 118?” she asked suspiciously.
“I am not on leave. I am on light duty because I am not to be trusted to know my own limits, apparently,” he said primly. “It just happens to be in an office. With Chief Williams, because she had an open spot on her staff. And Chief Simpson hates me.”
“He does not hate you,” Karen scoffed.
“He hates all of us,” Eddie said darkly. “We’ve given him plenty of reasons to.”
May leaned back in her own seat, glancing from baby Robbie to Karen then back to Eddie. “I was not aware being pregnant was a thing you could do,” she said finally.
“Surprise,” Eddie said, deadpan.
She smiled and offered him a fist-bump. He stuck one hand out from under his blanket to return the fist-bump. “Congratulations, Eddie. Is Buck losing his mind?”
Karen let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, is he?” she said, smirking at Eddie then checking to make sure the baby was still asleep.
“I didn’t say it was Buck’s,” Eddie said defensively. They both gave him perfectly deadpan looks and he settled back in his seat, grumbling.
“So how pregnant is ‘very pregnant’ right now?” May prompted after a moment. She ignored her phone vibrating with a new text.
Eddie sighed and lifted the blanket, shivering immediately. “Very pregnant,” he said. “Thirty-three weeks and five days.”
May nearly dropped her wineglass at that. “Thirty-three weeks!” she squeaked, turning fully toward him then looking at his lap. He shifted his hips to try to sit up more. “Oh, wow,” she said, eyebrows shooting up.
“I went from ‘look at my spectacular abs’ to ‘look at me growing Buck’s giant baby’ in about two weeks,” he says, looking down. It was still baffling to him to look down and see less and less of his lap every day. He rubbed a hand over the curve of his bump then looked back over at May.
“How giant?” Karen prompted.
Eddie sighed, sitting back again and settling the blanket back in place. “If we make it full term, my OB thinks probably ten pounds.”
“That’s a big baby,” May said, nodding. “I think Harry was, like, eight.”
“Chris was a big baby, too,” Eddie said. “Part of how he got stuck in the birth canal, we figure.”
“Oh, so you were his birth parent,” she said, blinking.
He nodded. “I mean, yeah?”
“Sorry, it’s just really tripping me out!” she said, shaking her head again. “You’re just such a dude.”
He had to smile at that. “That’s how I like it. I transitioned a long time ago. I felt settled. And then… Bobby. Me and Buck didn’t handle it well, losing him, and then this happened.”
May looked at him for a moment, thoughtful. “Oh! Seven months ago was the funeral, huh?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It happened after that.”
She looked around the living room, taking a sip of her wine then turning back to him. “You and Chris moved in here? But there’s only two bedrooms—oh my god! You and Buck finally got together!”
Karen started laughing, hard enough that Robbie finally woke up. He sputtered and started to whimper and smack his lips, immune to Karen’s attempts at soothing him. May hopped up, saying she’d go grab a Han, coming back with Maddie quickly.
“I heard him fussing, don’t worry,” Maddie said, taking him from Karen and immediately kissing his forehead as she rocked him.
“You’re welcome to use our bedroom if you want to go calm him down or put him to nap properly,” Eddie offered. May gave him a wide-eyed look again and he flashed her a smile. Maddie’s gaze flicked between them, the same disconcerting way she always looked at Eddie, like he was amusing her but she was too polite to tell him why. He’d never particularly liked that feeling and generally avoided her because of it.
“I will, thank you,” Maddie said, squatting down to pick up the diaper bag that was tucked next to the couch. Her eyes lingered on Eddie for a moment more, then she left the room.
Karen and May both stood up, picking up wine glasses and phones from the coffee table. “Let’s go get some food,” Karen said. “Looks like most everyone is sitting at the tables now.”
Eddie waved them both on ahead. He was cozy under the blanket and he had some doubts about his ability to get up without help. He checked his own phone again, a new text from his mother waiting for him, and he looked up while typing out a ‘Happy Thanksgiving to you too’ reply to find Buck approaching.
“Hey. I saved you a seat,” Buck said, smiling slightly. Eddie tossed the blanket off of himself and scooted to the edge of his seat, then looked up with a slightly embarrassed frown. Buck smiled wider and helped haul him to his feet, pulling him in immediately for a hug. Eddie leaned into his chest, hiding his own smile from their family in the next room.
“Thanks,” he said.
Buck kissed the top of his head. “Any time. I got you,” he said.
-
April 2026
The department has spared no expense this year on the gala, Eddie has been assured. He’s not sure what exactly that means, especially considering it’s paid for with taxpayer funds and sometimes his entire job description is listening to complaints about how taxpayer funds are used until he wants to cry as much as the baby does. She’s a dream of a baby but, well. She’s still a baby. Which is not a flattering comparison for the giant adult babies who like to contact Chief Williams’s office to complain. Miranda is much nicer to them than Eddie would be, but that’s why she’s a battalion chief and he’s just her assistant. It’s all politics at the end of the day.
He looks around the ballroom and has to admit whoever was in charge of planning the gala did a spectacular job, no matter what their budget was. The space is gorgeous, the Art Deco-themed decor tasteful, the food surprisingly edible. Eddie can admit that he is a mercenary at heart and therefore catering quality matters. His approval can apparently be bought with tiny crackers topped with manchego and honeyed figs. He’s been a little bit nauseous lately as his hormones even out and pretty much no food has been appealing, but that particular item had gone down easily.
He cranes his neck, looking for Buck, who has abandoned him at one of the high-top mingling tables to go find him more of those exact canapés. This is their first public appearance together since the baby was born, and Eddie is generally of the opinion that the ‘together’ part of that phrase is the important part. He’s only been back to work a week as it is, having only taken twelve weeks of leave.
He swirls his drink again, watching the orange peel sweep around the inside of the glass around the sphere of ice. Craft cocktails were a nice touch, he thinks, even if he had to go with one of the nonalcoholic options since he’s technically working tonight. He already let Buck fish the cherry out with one finger and eat it.
He sets the glass back down and turns, looking over toward the direction of the dais in case someone waylaid Buck for politics. He doesn’t see Buck, but he does make direct eye contact with Tommy Kinard, who is standing with Chief Simpson and a tall blonde woman in a flowing red 1930s-style dress whom Eddie doesn’t know. Tommy’s eyes widen and he immediately excuses himself with a handshake to Simpson and an uncomfortable little smirk to the woman.
Eddie picks up his glass and drains the rest, girding himself even if the bourbon is fake.
“Diaz!” Tommy says as he approaches. “I thought I saw your name on the guest list. I heard you’d left the 118 behind for a battalion job.”
“I did,” Eddie agrees, trying not to let his gaze dart over Tommy’s shoulder too obviously to scan the crowd again.
Tommy looks mostly the same as ever, broad and very slightly scruffy at the edges, his dress uniform pressed impeccably but at odds with his five o'clock shadow. He’s done something new with his hair that is genuinely flattering, and Eddie can dole out a meaningless compliment as well as anyone here. “The new hair arrangement looks good,” he says, shaking Tommy’s hand then gesturing vaguely toward his own hairline.
“Trying new things,” Tommy agrees, miming running a comb through the forelock like Danny Zuko.
Eddie nods then glances away to scan for Buck again, but choosing a table closer to the wall to hide means that unfortunately, he is in fact hidden from most of the crowd. “Very brave,” Eddie tells him.
Tommy cocks his head slightly like he’s not sure if he’s being mocked. Eddie gazes back evenly until Tommy shrugs it off. “Haven’t seen you since the—since Bobby’s funeral. I heard you had a new baby at home. Congratulations,” Tommy says, voice lifting in question.
“Thank you,” Eddie says. He thinks about pulling out his phone to show off pictures but that’s usually Buck’s move and Eddie tries to pretend to be cooler than Buck, generally speaking. And he’s selfish. He still wants to keep her all to himself. It freaks him out to even post pictures of her online.
“I was pretty shocked to hear about it,” Tommy says, so casual and conversational that it veers back into vaguely hostile, “considering how recently you were living in Texas.”
“Yes,” Eddie agrees, rubbing his thumb against the lip of his empty glass. “She was certainly a surprise.”
Tommy’s eyebrows jump. “A girl, huh? How’s Chris handling it?”
“He’s just glad I’m distracted from whatever trouble he’s getting into. He’ll be sixteen this summer.” He looks around again; still no sign of Buck. He does see Miranda, as tall as Eddie is in her sensible heels, her hat tucked neatly under one arm as she chats with an older couple several tables away. Buck should still be able to find him there, he thinks.
“Sixteen? Wow. Time flies,” Tommy says.
Eddie turns back to look at him. “Sure does. We even let him win the negotiations to be left home alone tonight.”
They blink at each other for a moment. Eddie can feel a muscle in his jaw tensing, ready to twitch. Tommy’s eyes narrow.
“Baby’s first night with a sitter?” Tommy asks mildly.
“She’s with Maddie and Chim, obviously,” Eddie says. He lifts his glass and gives it another swirl, like a little more icemelt might have refilled the drink.
Tommy cocks his head again, like this is an odd answer. “Obviously? Because they have two little ones of their own?”
“Because she’s their niece?” Eddie says slowly, tilting his own head, trying to figure out why Tommy’s being coy about this.
Tommy laughs and flaps a dismissive hand. “I forgot how weird the 118 was,” he says with an eye roll. “She’s their niece. Sure, Diaz.”
Eddie stares at him for a moment, suddenly cold with a trickle of horror that he’s going to have to explain, then he licks his lips and squares his shoulders. He weighs how he’s going to play this, whether he should be coy right back or just plain blunt. Tommy just keeps chuckling to himself, so Eddie sighs and decides there’s no way to soften the blow that’s coming. “Tommy, who do you think gave birth to my daughter?” he asks slowly.
The oddness of the conversation finally seems to strike Tommy. He blinks, brow furrowing. “Your… partner? Who you met in Texas? Really did not expect that, I’ll be honest. I have got to meet this woman.” He looks around like it’s occurred to him for the first time that Eddie was standing there alone.
Eddie rubs his forehead. “Tommy. The baby was born at the beginning of January. She was conceived in LA.”
“Wow,” Tommy says, eyebrows climbing as he does the math. Then he leans in conspiratorially, smirking. “Post-funeral hookup, huh? I get it. How better to affirm being alive? I almost said something to Buck that day, but you were right there. You always are. Guess I should have after all if you were off making a baby.”
“Tommy, I gave birth to her,” Eddie says bluntly. Enough of this. Tommy’s smirk drops immediately. “Buck was definitely busy that night.”
Tommy blinks at him. “You…?”
He rubs his forehead again, wistful for a moment for the previous seven years of his life where he didn’t have to come out to new people constantly. He’s a little thrown that this seems to be news to Tommy, though. They’ve been shirtless and wrestling together more than once. It’s not like he doesn’t have two obvious scars on his chest. He nods and patiently says, “From my uterus, yes. Which I still have.”
“Your… uterus?” Tommy repeats. He doesn’t look like the word makes any more sense from his own mouth than when Eddie said it.
“Tommy, come on. This is not news,” Eddie says, widening his eyes at him. “I’m not hiding anything.”
It occurs to Eddie then that he’s not actually sure if any of their announcements have made it clear Buck was the other parent. Neither of them is particularly active on social media anymore. Eddie had been pretty out of it when she was born. Everyone who mattered already knew or was dead, and Eddie is always a little wary of outing himself, unwilling to be anyone’s poster boy. The LAFD can use someone else to brag about how progressive they are, thank you. But it’s got to be obvious, right? Buckley and Diaz are a package deal.
Tommy looks like he's been punched. “Your… uterus. But you’re six feet tall. You’re jacked. Your—your hands are so big, though,” he says. Eddie looks down and flexes one of his hands, smiling ruefully at the sight of his long fingers. He does have big hands. Both of his sisters do, too. At least one of them got to be happy about that.
So of course that’s when Eddie looks back up to see Buck walking back over to the table with his hands full of his own drink and a plate piled with more tiny appetizers for Eddie. He smiles brightly as soon as he sees Eddie, speeding up his pace and then nearly dropping everything when he’s three feet away and registers Tommy standing there.
Tommy turns and sees him there and goes white. Corpses have more color, Eddie thinks, lunging forward to catch the plate of food before Buck drops it.
“Tommy was just extending his congratulations on my new addition,” Eddie says wryly, catching Buck’s wrist and squeezing with one hand, taking the plate with his other.
Buck’s eyebrow twitches at the phrasing and he searches Eddie’s eyes for a moment before he plasters something of a rictus smile on his face and turns to Tommy to greet him, already pulling out his phone. “Oh, yes, Eddie’s baby is very cute. Want to see a picture of her? Oh, and hi. I’d shake your hand, but mine are a bit full.”
Eddie smiles fondly and turns to look back at Tommy just in time to watch the penny drop. It’s like slow-motion, carnage and sirens and shrapnel. If Tommy was holding a glass, it would be on the ground. He wonders how it must feel, finding out your ex did in fact just have a baby with the one person you spent your whole relationship worried would steal them away. Probably not great. Eddie can be kind. He sets the plate of appetizers down and picks up one of the cheese and fig ones and shoves it in his mouth so he can’t say anything at all.
Buck watches him eat the bite whole and snorts as he finally closes the distance, shuffling stand next to and slightly ahead of Eddie. It’s kind of like being guarded by a goldendoodle, though. Eddie rests a hand lightly on Buck’s lower back, flexing his fingers into the soft wool of his dress uniform coat to soothe them both. His nausea is back and swallowing suddenly seems like a chore. He practically chokes it down.
Tommy watches all of this with wide eyes, stunned silent. Eddie finds himself missing one of Tommy’s pithy little quips and he cocks his head. “You good, Tommy?” he asks.
“Am I… good?” Tommy says, blinking hard.
Buck lifts his phone and smiles. “I’ve got pictures.” He taps the screen, the time and a photo of the four of them appearing, although there are alert flags across everyone’s faces. An LA Times headline hiding Eddie sitting up in the hospital bed with the newborn in his arms, a text from Maddie covering Chris and Buck standing slightly taller on either side of them. The phone unlocks when it catches enough of Buck’s face. Eddie swallows again and smiles anyway, then glances up at Buck.
“Her name is Ruby,” Buck says, already pulling up his Photos app. Eddie rests a gentle hand on Buck’s forearm and shakes his head lightly.
“Ruby,” Tommy says, soft and dazed. “Your daughter.”
Buck nods. “Our daughter, yes,” he says with such a challenging tip to his chin that Eddie is a bit thrown.
“Your daughter,” Tommy repeats.
“Were you not mentioned in the department announcement?” Eddie nudges Buck’s flank and looks up at him through his lashes. He steals Buck’s glass and takes a small sip of his Old Fashioned, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment as the bourbon warms on his tongue. Hopefully it settles his stomach, too.
“Of course I was,” Buck scoffs. And then he frowns. “Oh, no. Was I?”
“I think so,” Eddie says, frowning as well. “But maybe not. I technically was in Miranda’s office by then. And if Chim forgot to put in a word about it…”
“Then I probably wasn’t mentioned as having a new baby,” Buck finishes, looking triumphant for a moment as he always does when he figures something out, and then his face falls when he looks back at Tommy. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Tommy mocks back at him. His eyes flick between them. “You’re really not kidding,” he says after a moment, gaze settling on Eddie. “You had the baby. Yourself.” He makes a gross slurping sound and mimes something going down a chute.
“You’ve literally been between my thighs,” Eddie says with a huff. Buck makes a protesting sound and Eddie digs his fingers into his back again, placating. “Did you seriously not notice something was amiss?”
“No! I didn’t notice.” He grimaces like this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him and shakes his head, gazing into the middle distance. Then he looks back at Eddie and looks him up and down. “And I was really trying to pursue you for a second there.”
“Me?” Eddie says, nearly letting the drink slip from his fingers. The fancy ice ball clinks noisily against the side. Buck takes it back from him.
“Eddie,” Tommy says, drawing himself up to his full height. “You’re gorgeous. You’re tall. You’re hilarious. Of course I was interested. Not that you noticed anything.”
Eddie blinks harder and lets himself sway into Buck’s side, trusting him to catch him. Buck does, of course, and only a bit awkwardly even with his hands full of his own drink and his phone where he’s been scrolling through his Ruby folder. He hears Buck taking the reins of the conversation from there, cheerfully offering to show him baby pictures, but it sounds like it’s coming from another room.
He thinks back over those early weeks after they rescued Bobby and Athena from the cruise ship, how excited he’d been to make a friend who had so much in common with him. Who didn’t treat him like a ticking time bomb or a porcelain figurine, like most of the 118 for one reason or another, Buck included. Who was cool as shit, even with Chris. He thinks back to how oddly betrayed he’d felt when Buck confessed to the date, the flush of shame he’d felt at missing something.
He loves Buck very much. They’re settled. Their daughter is incredible; Eddie doesn’t let himself feel guilty for missing this part of Chris’s infancy anymore but he does make a point to soak up every second of Ruby’s. Buck is an amazing father. They’ll probably have another baby at some point, preferably after they’ve gotten married so Eddie’s mother stops wrinkling her nose when she says the word ‘partner.’ He can admit now that he’s loved Buck for a very long time and spent most of it letting himself be distracted from the obvious by everything else in his life that was on fire all the time.
Buck sets his drink down and tucks that arm around Eddie’s waist, then he holds out his phone so Tommy can see the screen. “This is her,” he says.
Tommy takes the phone, his hand wavering a little. He doesn’t look like he wants to look but he squints at the screen. Eddie picks up another canapé and takes a smaller bite, chewing slowly as he watches Tommy’s face.
“Can I scroll?” Tommy asks softly, looking up at Buck.
Buck nods and smiles slightly. “Yeah, that’s a folder of her.”
“All newborns look the same,” Tommy says shakily, like he’s trying to be dismissive, his mouth twisted into a rueful little smile, eyes scanning the screen as he flips through the album.
“Squishy and red, yeah,” Buck agrees. “She was both. Hence her name. But we call her Squash sometimes, too.”
Tommy glances up, looking between them. “She must have been a big baby,” he says. “You’re both… big.”
Eddie huffs a laugh. “She definitely felt enormous coming out,” he says. He rests a hand on his abdomen, where the second button of his jacket sits. He still hasn’t shed the baby weight. His body hasn’t bounced back the way it did when he was eighteen, that’s for sure. Chris had been a big baby, too, and he’s so thankful that this birth had no complications.
“Over nine pounds,” Buck adds, nodding. Eddie winces at the memory. “And she was a little early. She’s already in some nine to twelve month clothes.”
“I am not sure what that means,” Tommy says. He pauses scrolling and moves the phone closer to his face to look at one picture.
“Well, she’s not even four months old yet, so,” Buck says. “Just means she’s long.” Eddie watches him crane his neck to see which photo has caught Tommy’s attention, pleased to see Buck’s smile.
Tommy sighs heavily then thumbs over the power button on the side of the phone and hands it, screen dark, back to Buck. “She’s beautiful, guys,” he says quietly, face closed off. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you?” Buck says, stammering it out into more of a question. His arm tightens around Eddie’s back briefly.
Eddie watches Tommy seemingly scroll through several possible reactions before finally settling on making eye contact with Buck. “I’m glad you got what you really wanted, man.”
Eddie feels Buck tense again and leans into him. “Thanks, Tommy,” Eddie says, choosing to take it at face value and dare him to smirk. “That means a lot to both of us.”
Tommy’s gaze drops, hesitating on Eddie’s hand where it’s still resting on his stomach, then he nods. He takes a deep breath and blows it out, drawing himself back up to his full height again. “Well, I think it’s about time I go mingle. Have a good night,” he says. He gives them a half-hearted little salute and quickly leaves.
Buck immediately sags away, resting both elbows on the table and groaning. “That was so awkward,” he says into his palms.
“He had no idea,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “Like he just came over here to fuck with me, I think.”
“Of course he did.” Buck groans into his hands again. “And to indirectly fuck with me, too. He probably figured you’d tell me you saw him here. And he knew how I felt about you, so a universe where you had a new baby with some rando and I’m over there in the corner? Ugh.” He rubs his face then drops his hands to the table, standing up straight again.
Eddie stares at him for a moment then reaches up to touch his cheek. “I’m glad you’re the rando I had a baby with,” he says with a smile.
Buck’s face immediately breaks out into an anxious little smile at that. “Yeah? Even though it made everything in your life harder?”
“Everything in my life would’ve been hard anyway, Buck.” He strokes his thumb over Buck’s cheekbone then drops his hand to toy with Buck’s tie just over his sternum. He picks up another little fig canapé from the plate and points it at Buck with his free hand. The honey on the fig glistens under the chandelier. “Having someone who brings me tiny little charcuterie and then takes me home and fucks me into the mattress is not a struggle.”
“Oh,” Buck says, all the anxiety in his smile immediately flickering over to heat. Eddie can relate; he can feel himself getting a little wet just at the thought, especially if they’re still in their suits. “Is that what you’re planning?”
“You look so good in this, and the baby is with your sister tonight,” Eddie says, tugging gently on the tie. Buck sways forward slightly and Eddie flashes him a smirk before shoving the fig bite in his mouth whole.
Buck had been nervous about resuming any kind of sexual activity, even after Eddie’s doctor assured him to his face at Eddie’s six week postpartum appointment that he was cleared. Eddie had considered himself ready before that, practically begging him and sulking hard enough when Buck refused that one or the other of them slept on the couch for a couple of weeks. They’d barely made it in the front door, Ruby sleeping in her car seat on the floor, after that appointment before Eddie’s face was against the wall next to it and his pants were around his knees, Buck’s cock buried to the hilt inside him where it belonged. “I’d fuck you against the door,” Buck had murmured in his ear as he fucked him, “but there’s too much glass and we’d break the windows.”
Buck is staring at him like he’s considering if they can get away with sneaking to the bathroom when Miranda approaches their table, looking amused. They both stand up straighter.
“I saw Kinard scuttle away from you two a little bit ago. I wasn’t aware he could move that fast,” she says dryly. “Flyboys usually atrophy on the ground.”
Buck tries to stifle his giggle into his drink. Eddie doesn’t even bother, leaning their shoulders together and grinning at Miranda.
She’s a ruthless politician, Eddie has been delighted to discover. Frankly, he’s obsessed with her. She’s a fascinating superior to learn from, too, achieving what she has before she’s even turned fifty. Eddie listens to her like a sponge, so focused sometimes Buck jokes he’s a little jealous. She mostly treats Eddie like he’s an adorable little creature whose chin she wants to tickle, but that isn’t a particularly new experience. She used to do the same thing at poker.
“Chief Williams, you’re supposed to treat our helicopter pilots with utmost respect,” Buck scolds.
“The ones who don’t steal department property for whims, sure,” she says, nodding. She gives Eddie a pointed look and he just smiles back guilelessly.
“Hey, neither of those trips were in any way my idea or fault. I can’t help it that I’m beautiful and well-connected.” He mimes tossing hair over his shoulder and buffs his nails on his lapel.
Buck scoffs and Miranda tosses her head back to laugh. And then she leans over and nudges Eddie’s arm. “Well, Diaz, funny you should mention making connections. I had best go shake some hands and I need my big, beautiful assistant with me for that. Buckley, I trust you can entertain yourself without commandeering any department property or catching terrorism charges tonight while I put your partner to work.”
“Affirmative, ma’am,” Buck says with a smile. “Work him hard.” Eddie presses a quick goodbye kiss to the corner of his mouth and then spends the next hour and a half following Miranda around as she shakes hands and, indeed, makes connections. Eddie gets to meet Pedro Pascal. It’s a pretty cool night.
Buck is tipsy by the time Eddie finds him again, huddled at a different table with Glendening, a giant bear of a man from the Heavy Rescue team, and comparing scar stories.
“Diaz!” Glendening calls, noticing Eddie approaching before Buck does. Buck turns and grows three inches from his slouch when he sees Eddie, his face breaking out into a wide grin.
Eddie laughs and tucks himself under Buck’s arm. Buck kisses his temple and pulls him closer. “Hey, Glen. How’s life?”
“Exciting as always. Heard you took a soft little office job.” Glendening’s giant red mustache quivers with glee to deliver the chirp.
“Hey, I just had a baby,” Eddie says, pretending to be offended. “I’ll be back to active duty next year, I think.”
“We’ll keep your spot warm for you,” Buck assures him, although he gives Eddie a quizzical look and mouths ‘next year?’
Glendening laughs. “Congratulations again, guys,” he tells them. He thumps them both on the shoulders when he excuses himself.
Buck turns back to Eddie once they’re alone. “Are we free to go home now?” he murmurs, nuzzling behind his ear.
Eddie smiles and pulls back slightly, swatting his arm. “We are.”
“Oh, thank god. My face is starting to hurt from smiling,” he says.
They make their way to the exit, waylaid only a couple times on the way for a handful of congratulations or just greetings. Buck is drunk enough that he relinquishes the keys easily but presses Eddie up against the side of his truck to kiss him sloppily right there in the parking garage.
Eddie lets him, sliding his own hands under Buck’s jacket and tracing the lines of the muscles through his shirt as Buck licks into his mouth. Buck makes an eager noise in his throat, especially when Eddie slides one hand down to rest on his belt.
A car drives behind them, someone else exiting the garage, and Buck pulls back with very pink cheeks. “Whoops. Got a little carried away,” he says.
Eddie smiles, hooking two fingers into Buck’s belt and tugging lightly. “Very flattering, though.”
Buck smiles, resting their foreheads together again. “You look so fucking good tonight. I was watching you walking around with Chief Williams and seeing you smiling and focused like that was so hot. I was so proud of you.”
“Oh yeah?” Eddie prompts.
“It made me so hard,” Buck says, pressing his hips closer. Eddie can feel him against his stomach and he smiles.
“Buck, are you trying to start something in a parking garage?” he teases, even as he slips his hand lower and squeezes Buck through his pants.
“Is it working?” Buck asks, voice low, lips brushing against Eddie’s jaw.
“Maybe,” Eddie says, squeezing him again and dragging his palm up the length of him.
Buck cups the back of his neck and kisses him again, rocking his hips into Eddie’s hand. Eddie lets him, leaning back into the truck and sucking Buck’s tongue. They break apart with a startled gasp when the car next to them chirps as the owner unlocks it remotely. Buck steps back looking abashed. “Okay, shit. We should go.”
Eddie grins and shoos him away, then opens the driver’s door and climbs in. He starts the engine and fiddles with the radio as he waits for Buck to walk around the truck and get in the passenger side, laughing when Buck leans in and kisses him over the center console as soon as he can.
“Buck,” he whines. “Let’s go home.”
“Chris is probably still up,” Buck says, his mouth sliding down the side of Eddie’s neck.
Eddie groans and grips the steering wheel with both hands. “Now why would you say that?” he complains.
Buck chuckles. “I’m just saying. Maybe we should take care of things here first. Before we go home.”
Eddie tipped his head to the side, letting Buck suck on his pulse point, his own eyes fluttering shut. “You do make a good point.”
“I know I do,” Buck says, his hand inching up Eddie’s thigh, middle finger tracing his inseam. Eddie shifts in his seat, suddenly aware of how wet he is. He glances to the side, grateful for the window tint when he sees the driver of the car parked next to them approaching from the elevator banks. It’s another firefighter in full dress uniform, although Eddie doesn’t recognize him.
Buck reaches up and nudges Eddie’s chin, turning his face toward him instead. Eddie smiles at him softly, tipping his face into Buck’s palm. “Has Maddie texted you any pictures?”
Buck blinks and then smiles dopily. “She did!” he says, pulling his phone out of his jacket. “Apparently Ruby was fussy after dinner so she was walking her up and down their hallway.”
He hits play on a video, clearly taken by Chim, of Maddie singing a lullaby as she walks down the hall away from him with the baby tucked under her chin, one tiny chubby baby hand visible over her shoulder.
Eddie widens his eyes at Buck. “Oh,” he says softly.
“Oh,” Buck agrees, making the same expression. “Aww, Eddie, now I miss her.”
“I mean… we could go pick her up early.”
Buck blinks slowly at that then smiles. “We could,” he agrees. Eddie turns on the engine.
“But she’s probably asleep,” Eddie says sadly. “Babies sleeping through the night is important. She certainly never did in utero.”
“I can call my sister,” Buck says, pulling away and sitting up straighter. He plugs his phone into the aux.
“Maddie is also probably asleep,” Eddie points out, gesturing at the dashboard clock. It’s nearly midnight.
Buck nods. “Yeah.”
They sit there for a moment, both staring at the clock. Then Buck sighs and hits the call button on the screen.
“Somehow I knew this call was coming,” Maddie says as soon as she answers, her voice warm and amused.
“We’ll be there soon,” Eddie says.