Archive of Our Own ^beta

It starts with a couple’s voucher for a pottery class. 

“I won it at a raffle at Christopher’s school,” Eddie shrugs, holding the flyer out to Buck. “You wanna go?”

“Sure,” Buck grins. “Oh hey, I’ve actually heard of this person’s work. This will be fun!”

“Great,” Eddie breathes, cheeks flushed. “I’ll, uh. Pick you up at six, we can grab some dinner beforehand?”

“Sounds good. I think there’s an Italian place like a block away that does super authentic wood fired pizza,” Buck suggests. “Ravi went on a date there the other day. Seemed more excited about the food than the person he was there with.”

“Sounds about right for dating in LA.” Eddie snorts. “Here’s to not dealing with that shit.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Buck agrees, clinking their bottles together. Being single is a little lonely but if it means getting to do fun shit like this with Eddie? He’ll happily stay that way. 

—

The evening is absurdly fun. Eddie - well, Eddie looks great. Really great. He’s in jeans that might as well be painted on (seriously, how did he get in them?) and a deep green button-down that complements his skin tone so much that Buck feels a little dizzy. He feels underdressed in his straight leg jeans, white t-shirt and pink cardigan. 

Dinner is great - the food is good, it’s not too crowded, and the dim lighting is making Eddie’s eyes fucking sparkle. If this were a date Buck would be reaching across the table to take Eddie’s hand right now, slipping his fingers underneath the cuff on his left wrist, biting his bottom lip as he - it’s not important. It doesn’t matter that Eddie’s cheeks are pink, it doesn’t matter that he ducks his head every time he laughs at one of Buck’s corny jokes. It’s - they’re getting back on track as best friends, that’s all. Tonight reminds Buck a lot of when they went to that underground poker game. Just something fun for the two of them. 

The pottery class is insane - the instructor has them standing progressively further and further back to throw their lumps of clay onto the wheels, making everyone stand on their chairs in shame when they miss. It comes down to Buck and Eddie who make it a good twelve feet away before the instructor announces that whoever lands their next throw closest to the centre of the wheel wins a gift voucher for a follow up class where they can do some fancy dip glaze on their creation. 

“You’re going down, Buckley. I sunk a basket from the opposite end of the court last weekend,” Eddie grins, tossing his ball of clay from one hand to the other. 

“I’m sorry, were you not there when I threw that piece of broccoli into the pot on the stove from the other end of the dining table yesterday?” Buck counters with a scoff. He attempts to spin the ball of clay on his finger like a basketball and fails miserably, barely managing to catch it before it hits the ground. Eddie is laughing next to him, unbridled and open with his head thrown back. Buck is struck by a need to lick his neck so suddenly he almost throws his clay at the instructor as a distraction. 

“Ok,” the instructor laughs. “If you two are done flirting I’m sure everyone here would love to get on with the class.”

“Oh, we’re not -”

“Better practice your humble loser speech,” Eddie murmurs, tossing his piece of clay and landing it around three inches from the centre of the wheel. Everyone standing on their chairs clap as Buck scoffs, tossing his clay in a smooth arch and watching as it lands dead centre. 

“Ooh and he nails it!” Buck laughs, throwing his arms up in the air and donning his best shit-eating grin. Eddie rolls his eyes but he’s smiling and nudging Buck with his elbow. 

“Impressive,” he murmurs as they all sit back down. “You’re bringing me to that class, right?”

“Obviously,” Buck snorts. “Who else would put up with me like this?”

“Happy to do it,” Eddie hums, cheeks pink. Buck puts it down to the slightly warmer temperature in the room. 

After the class they walk out onto the street with the voucher for their next class in Buck’s back pocket and a dopey smile on his face because it’s been so long since he and Eddie hung out like this after - well, after everything. 

“Ok so she runs classes twice a month so we just need to pick a day we’re both off-shift and book it in,” Buck says absently, scrolling through the instructor’s website as they stroll along the sidewalk. Eddie’s hand lands on Buck’s bicep and he tugs him gently to the side. 

“Puddle,” he explains. “Those are new sneakers, right?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” Buck stammers. “Thanks.” His arm feels hot, even after Eddie takes his hand away. 

“Do you wanna get a drink?” Eddie asks. He steps in front of Buck and walks backwards to keep them moving, annoyingly coordinated even when he can’t see where he’s going.

“I’ve got nowhere to be tomorrow,” Buck shrugs as Eddie grins and pulls up directions on his phone; stopping in his tracks so quickly Buck bumps into him. 

“There’s a cocktail bar not far from here,” Eddie says, squinting up at the nearest street sign as he steadies Buck with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Since when are you a cocktail bar kind of person?” Buck laughs. Eddie starts walking backwards again, still grinning and making Buck feel a little weak in the knees. It’s objectively unfair how attractive Eddie is for a straight man and objectively unfair that Buck doesn’t get to kiss him when the night is over. 

“Since I decided to start embracing whimsy, Buck,” Eddie tells him. “Besides, maybe I’ve just got a craving for something pink and fruity.”

“Whimsy, huh? I like that,” Buck smiles, ambling along after Eddie. He doesn’t add the ‘I’m something pink and fruity’ that starts playing in a screeching loop in his head. It doesn’t end up mattering anyway, because Maddie calls two minutes later sounding stressed out of her mind. 

“Robbie’s running a fever, we’re out of Tylenol, Howie’s picked up an overtime shift, Jee won’t sleep and -”

“Breathe,” Buck instructs her. “What do you need?”

“Tylenol,” she huffs. “If I can get Robbie to settle then I can get Jee to sleep.  Are you at home?”

“I’m out with Eddie and he drove, but I’m sure he won’t mind swinging by a pharmacy and then your place?” Buck says, shooting Eddie a hopeful gaze and receiving a thumbs up in return. 

“Thank you,” Maddie breathes as Eddie sweeps his arm out to direct Buck back towards the side street the car is parked in. “I won’t keep you long, you can keep doing whatever it is you were doing.”

“It’s fine,” Buck insists. “Family comes first always. We’ll be there in like half an hour.”

“You’re the best, love you!” Maddie hangs up as Robbie starts screaming directly into Buck’s ear. 

“Sick baby?” Eddie asks, opening the passenger side door for Buck. 

“Uh - yeah. Robbie’s got a fever and Jee won’t go to bed,” Buck explains. “Maddie just needs me to drop Tylenol over and we can head back out?

“We could skip the bar and just have a couple of beers at my place,” Eddie suggests. He fumbles a little with his keys as he starts the car which is unlike him, but Buck puts it down to being startled by his phone chiming several times in a row with messages from Maddie reminding him to please make sure he gets the children’s Tylenol and not the regular one. 

“Ok,” Buck agrees easily. “I’m good with whatever.”

“Great. That’s, uh. Great,” Eddie breathes. 

They make it to Maddie’s in a little under half an hour. Jee is singing something from K-Pop Demon Hunters and Robbie is screaming in Maddie’s arms. 

“Oh thank god,” she groans, taking the dose of Tylenol Buck had measured out for her on his way in from the car. “I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

“Hey cutie,” Buck grins, crouching in front of Jee. “Do you know what time it is?”

“No,” Jee blinks innocently. “Is it time to watch Demon Hunters again?”

“It’s time for bed,” Buck tells her. He likes to think he’s found the perfect balance between being a fun uncle and being firm with boundaries. “Can you help Mom out and go to bed?”

“No,” she answers simply, twirling away and singing even louder. Maddie rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she gently bounces Robbie. 

“Jee, honey, I’m putting Robbie down and then it’s your turn,” Maddie says in a far more efficient firm tone than Buck. “You’ve got five minutes with Uncle Buck and Uncle Eddie before I come back.”

“But I want ten minutes,” Jee argues. Maddie just sighs, deep and exhausted, before disappearing around the corner with the baby. 

“Alright Jee, let’s find a way - and she’s gone,” Eddie snorts as Jee takes off after Maddie. 

“Hey, I might stay for a bit and help Maddie,” Buck tells him regretfully. “She’s exhausted.”

“I can stay too,” Eddie shrugs. “Many hands and all.”

“Thanks,” Buck smiles. Eddie takes a half-step closer, his flushed cheeks darkening as he opens his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Jee re-entering the room. 

“Robbie threw up on Mommy,” she announces loudly. “It’s everywhere.”

“And you’re on your own,” Eddie grimaces. “Sorry, I ain’t dealing with vomit unless I’m being paid or it’s my own kid.”

“Understandable,” Buck sighs. “Hey, thanks for tonight. It was really fun.”

“What can I say, I know how to plan a spectacular -”

“Uncle Buck,” Jee whines. Eddie laughs, a breathless little thing, before pulling Buck into a brief but tight hug. 

“Call me if you need a ride home?”

“Will do,” Buck breathes. “Alright, Princess. Let’s go help Mom.”

—

The second pottery class is just as much fun as the first - Eddie picks a pastel purple glaze for the two dinner plates he made and casually tells Buck he should get a purple cardigan to go with his pink one. 

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a pastels guy,” Buck murmurs as the instructor wraps Eddie’s plates and Buck’s teal vase in tissue paper. 

“Whimsy, Buck,” Eddie grins. “It’s whimsical. Besides, they’ll go with the purple napkins I bought the other day.”

“Since when do you like purple?” 

“Since always, actually. It’s only recently that I stopped telling myself it wasn’t a masculine colour,” Eddie snorts, holding the door open for Buck. 

“I am loving whimsical Eddie,” Buck grins. “Should we go hit up the pier next week? Nighttime ferris wheel ride? Eat ice-cream while we walk in the water?”

“Hey, non-whimsical Eddie would have done all that stuff,” Eddie counters, pouting. 

“Not without his son as a buffer he wouldn’t,” Buck laughs. “Non-whimsical Eddie would have stood back and watched always-whimsical Buck and pretends-he-isn’t-whimsical Chris have all the fun.”

“Not anymore,” Eddie declares. “Next week whimsical Eddie is joining whimsical Buck and pretends-to-be-indifferent Chris on the ferris wheel and will wear shorts so he can walk in the water as he eats the lavender flavoured ice cream he’s never had the guts to try.”

“You think we can convince Chris to get something other than cookies and cream?”

“He might if you get something other than that fairy floss monstrosity,” Eddie teases. 

“That’s not very whimsical of you,” Buck huffs as they arrive back at the car. 

“It’s very ‘dental visits are fucking expensive’ of me,” Eddie laughs. They carefully load their pottery into the box Eddie had thoughtfully placed on the backseat, Buck’s vase sitting snug against Eddie’s plates with one of his gym shirts filling the empty space. Buck tries not to think too hard about how much it represents how he wants to fit into Eddie’s life. 

“You should bring Chris to make pottery. Replace all your dishes with ones you’ve made together,” Buck suggests. 

“Only if you make the mugs,” Eddie chuckles. “Your vase came out really nice.”

“Thanks,” Buck grins. “Make me a set of pink plates and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Hey, listen. I wanted -” Eddie’s cut off by screeching breaks and a sickening thud out on the main road. Eddie’s got his emergency bag in his hand and Buck’s on the phone to dispatch before he’s even aware of what he’s doing, and that’s their evening over. 

—

It keeps happening. Eddie keeps setting up these super fun and cute hangouts for their days off, and then something happens to cut it short. 

Their evening in Santa Monica with Chris? Stomachache. Chris, not Buck. He eats two corn dogs and insists on two huge scoops of ice-cream because Eddie says he’s letting Chris make his own choices to learn through consequences. Unless, obviously, those consequences have the potential to be life-altering or life threatening (his favourite phrase for Chris when he leaves the house is “do not add to or subtract from the population, do not make me meet you in a hospital or identify you at the morgue”). 

That lecture on the history of Hot Wheels that Eddie booked them in for because he loved Hot Wheels when he was younger and Buck has been on a bit of a toy car research binge lately? They get called in for emergency overtime after a city-wide bomb scare. It ended up being nothing - a woman was trying to stop her son from getting married because “his fiance can’t look after him like I can”, and Eddie says that if he were the fiance in that situation he’d move to another country. Alone. 

The Turkish lamp making class? A fight breaks out between two of the other patrons over a dish of orange mosaic tiles, and Eddie ends up having to render some very quick and quite frankly insanely impressive first aid to the man who ends up with mosaic tiles embedded in his eye while Buck restrains the woman who smashed them in there (apparently they’re exes trying to ‘give it one more go’. Buck suggests they just let it go all together). 

The board game cafe? They get far too competitive and end up getting kicked out, the owner telling them it’s meant to be a chill place for people to relax. Buck tells them if that’s the case then having Pictionary on the shelves is a fucking stupid idea. That little outburst gets them banned for life and Buck is so worked up over it he tells Eddie he’s gonna walk the six blocks home so he doesn’t end up breaking something. 

The dog park? Buck is caught off guard by a particularly enthusiastic Anatolian Shepherd named Bear who jumps on him and knocks him down, right into a metal park bench. They spend four hours in the emergency room waiting for Buck to get stitched up. Buck tells Eddie he trusts him enough to just let him do it back at his house, to which Eddie replies that he’s flattered but refuses to be the reason Buck ends up with a deadly infection due to lack of proper equipment. 

—

Three days after that particular incident they’re drinking beers at a nice (but not intimidatingly nice) bar, tucked into a booth near the door. 

“I’m honestly surprised you haven’t said anything about the universe conspiring against us yet,” Eddie murmurs with a grin, nudging his foot against Buck’s. 

“Because of this?” Buck asks, tapping the back of his head lightly. It was only six stitches, he’s fine. He can’t sleep on his back for a week, but it’s fine.

“Because of the sick baby, hit and run, sick Chris, bomb scare, mosaic tiles in the eye, your little Pictionary outburst, and yes - the stitches,” Eddie chuckles. “Are you seriously not spiralling? Not even a little?”

“Why would I be spiralling? It’s gonna take more that to keep us from hanging out,” Buck shrugs. If all of this had happened as Eddie was fresh back from Texas? Sure, Buck might have freaked out a little. Thought that the universe was trying to tell them they weren’t supposed to be friends anymore. But now that they’re in a better place? With Eddie going above and beyond to plan all this stuff for them? Buck’s feeling pretty damn secure. 

“I must be rubbing off on you,” Eddie hums. “I, uh. I wanted to bring something up. I’ve been - you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Wh - oh, god. Hey Taylor,” Buck sighs as she sidles up and slips into their booth next to Buck. It’s one of those semi-circle booths and Eddie inches a little closer. 

“Well isn’t this fun?” Taylor says, picking up Buck’s drink and taking a swig. “Ugh, when did you start drinking gin?”

“Fun isn’t the word I’d use,,” Eddie grumbles. “Another drink, Buck? That one is tainted now.”

“Maybe two,” Buck replies with a grimace as Eddie slides out of the booth, ignoring Taylor as he heads for the bar. 

“So,” Taylor grins. “How’ve you been?”

“You didn’t come over here to make small talk, Taylor,” Buck monotones. “What do you want?”

“Ouch, Buckley,” Taylor winces, “can’t a girl come over to her ex-boyfriend and congratulate him on his new boyfriend?”

“New boyfriend?”

“I gotta say, I’m not much for cutesy shit but this Instagram thing you and Eddie are doing is just the right side of nauseating,” she sighs, pulling her phone out. 

“Instagram thing?” Buck is so confused right now - he hasn’t posted to Instagram in a few weeks, and Eddie hasn’t posted in months.  

“God you’re a terrible interviewee,” Taylor huffs. She turns her phone around and shows Buck an Instagram page with photos of him all over it. 

“What the fuck is that?” He snatches the phone from her hands and scrolls - there are seven posts, one from each of the evenings they’ve hung out over the last month. A candid shot of Buck shaping his vase at the first pottery class, the shot Eddie took of him holding up the completed piece after the glazing, the selfie they took in front of the ferris wheel that Chris had refused to be in, a creep shot of Buck frantically taking notes and chewing on his bottom lip at the Hot Wheels lecture (in the half an hour they were actually there), a picture of Buck working on his Turkish lamp (taken right before the fight broke out), a photo of Buck at the board game cafe very animatedly explaining to Eddie that his ambiguous blob couldn’t possibly be a garbage truck, and another candid shot of Buck sitting cross-legged on the ground with a Samoyed planted in his lap. 

There’s a lengthy caption on each photo - Buck doesn’t read them all, but his eyes land on the first one. 

‘I changed my outfit three times and vomited once before I left to pick you up tonight. I wasn’t nervous about seeing you, that was the easy part - it always is. It just felt like there was a lot riding on tonight, you know? We’ve been best friends for so long and the thought of anything ruining that was the one thing that held me back from finally asking you out for so long. But then you got in the car and you were so relaxed and seemed so chill about the whole thing - like this is what we’ve been doing the whole time - that I instantly relaxed (and we both know that is NOT a thing that I do). Because maybe we have been doing this the whole time without realising it.’ 

“Uh, I don’t -” Buck cuts himself off when the caption on the most recent post catches his attention (the photo of Buck with the dog). 

‘Date number seven and I’m sitting in the emergency room while you get stitches after getting taken out by a dog. I’m surprised it took this long, honestly. You scaring the shit out of me when it comes to your safety is kind of your thing but let’s not make a habit of it yeah? I’d like for there to be at least one hundred posts on this account before I unblock you on our first anniversary. Maybe we’ll get that dog you’re pining after then too.’

“You didn’t know he was doing this?” Taylor asks as she takes her phone back. 

“I didn’t know we were dating,” Buck whispers, eyes tracking Eddie as he heads back to the table. Taylor laughs and quickly stops. 

“Oh my god, you’re not joking. Well, good luck with uh - that,” Taylor snorts. She’s gone before Eddie sits back down, sliding two gin and sodas across the table towards Buck. 

“What did the wicked witch of the east want?” Eddie asks with a grin. 

“I thought the wicked witch of the east was the one who got crushed by Dorothy’s house,” Buck answers weakly, head spinning. There’s no way, right? There’s no way he and Eddie have been dating for an entire month without him realising it. He’s not that stupid, is he? He might forget a decent amount of things people say to him but there’s no way he’s forgotten Eddie asking him out. 

“Fingers crossed,” Eddie snorts. “You ok? You’re looking a little pale…er than usual.”

“Yeah, yeah I - uh, no. No, I’m - have we - fuck,” Buck stammers, covering his face with his hands. 

“Buck, what did Taylor say to you?” Eddie asks flatly, pulling his hands away from his face. His face is concerned and Buck hasn’t ever wanted to kiss him more - and apparently he can now? Buck needs to find a way to ask what the fuck is happening without tanking his one shot with Eddie. He’s having an out-of-body experience. 

“N-nothing. Not really,” Buck answers. “Just came over to congratulate me on my new boyfriend.”

“That is surprisingly human of her,” Eddie murmurs. “Doesn’t explain why you look like you’re about to puke, though.”

“When, uh. W-when exactly did you ask me out?”

“Four days before the pottery class, I think? So the eighteenth of last month. Why?” Eddie is smiling so openly at him that Buck almost abandons his questions and crawls across the table to kiss Eddie here and now. 

“Can you do me a favour and just - recall your exact wording for me?” Buck still doesn’t know where he’s going with this.

“Uh - ok. I think I said ‘I have a voucher for a couples pottery class, I won it at a raffle at Christopher’s school. You wanna go?’ Felt like my heart was in my throat,” Eddie laughs. “Best decision I ever made, though.”

“Eddie, I - I didn’t know we were dating,” Buck admits reluctantly. Eddie's face drops immediately and he shifts back in his seat, shoulders tensing and a pained expression settling on his face. 

“You - how?”

“Eddie, that was a super vague way to ask someone out. Especially someone you hang out with all the time - someone who until now thought you were straight,” Buck explains quickly.

“I came out to you,” Eddie squawks indignantly. “When we hung the shelf in my room.”

“I remember that day,” Buck says, not yet feeling like he’s returned to his body. “I do not remember you coming out to me.”

“Yes you do. I said ‘this shelf is as straight as I am’ before I levelled it,” Eddie says slowly. “You laughed. I appreciated you not making a big deal out of it. We moved on with our day.”

“Ok yeah I remember that,” Buck huffs. “Eddie, I had my back to you. By the time I turned around you had that shelf levelled. I thought you were just affirming your heterosexuality.”

“No, no I was doing the opposite,” Eddie sighs. “Uh, ok. This is super awkward.”

“N-no, no don’t say that. It’s - ok, it’s a little awkward,” Buck laughs breathlessly. “Because all I’m thinking right now is that we’ve apparently been dating for a month and you haven’t tried to kiss me. I feel like that might have, you know. Clued me in a little.”

“Hey, I tried! But there was a sick baby, hit and run, sick Chris, bomb scare, mosaic tiles in the eye, your little Pictionary outburst, and stitches," Eddie repeats. “And I thought you were…I dunno, taking it slow for me? That’s what I wanted to talk to you about before Redbelly showed up.”

“Redbelly?”

“Because she’s a snake, Buck.”

“You always hated her,” Buck snorts. “So, uh. We’re dating. That - Eddie, that’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah, are you kidding me? You want to date me?” Buck’s feeling a little dizzy with the intensity of his love for Eddie right now, and makes the decision not to tell him that he knows about the Instagram account. He can pretend to be surprised in eleven months. 

“Who the fuck else would I want to date? And what did you think we’ve been doing for the last month?” Eddie asks, sliding closer to Buck in the booth. Buck slides the rest of the way over, stopping just short of sitting in Eddie’s lap. They’re pressed together, shoulder to knee, and Eddie takes Buck’s hand into his own. 

“You could have literally anyone you want. And I thought we were embracing whimsy,” Buck murmurs, blinking down at their joined hands. Eddie’s palm is warm against his own. 

“You are very whimsical,” Eddie hums. “And I want you. Which I thought I’d been showing you for the past month.”

“You have,” Buck tells him, “I’m just an idiot.”

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that,” Eddie warns. “I’m kind of insane about him and I will kick your ass.”

“How about you just kiss me instead?” Buck whispers, leaning in close enough to feel Eddie’s breath on his lips. 

“Mmm,” Eddie hums, grinning. “No.”

“No?” Buck flinches back - not far, because Eddie puts a hand on the back of his head. 

“I think I want you to work for it a little first,” Eddie whispers. “I’ve put in a lot of effort over the last month, now it’s your turn.”

“Uh, that’s - that’s fair, I guess,” Buck breathes. “You got anything particular in mind?”

“Follow me and find out,” Eddie murmurs, sliding away from the Buck and out of the booth. He does it so smoothly and Buck is left awkwardly shuffling along the curved seat, scrambling to follow Eddie who is already heading for the door. 

“Wait, we need to pay the tab,” Buck says, stumbling over his own feet as he slips out of the booth.  

“Looks like you’ve got a choice to make, Buckley,” Eddie grins, one hand on the door. “You can do the right thing and go pay the tab, or you can step outside and kiss me right now.”

“I like this place,” Buck groans. “I also really don’t feel like getting arrested tonight.”

“Better go pay that bill then,” Eddie tells him seriously as he pushes the door open and steps outside. “You can come find me after.”

“Find you? Where are you going?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Eddie shrugs, letting the door swing shut behind him. 

“It’s raining!” Buck yells after him. Eddie turns left and disappears from view as Buck pushes through the growing crowd of people to the bar. 

“Forty even,” the bartender says, dropping the card reader in front of him before darting off to take more orders. His card gets rejected and it takes a solid forty-five seconds to flag down the bartender again. 

“I just got paid this morning so it’s not my account,” Buck tells them in a rush. They reset the machine and leave again, leaving Buck to frantically flag them down (forty-nine seconds this time) when his card is rejected once more. 

“Looks like the system is down,” they sigh. “You got one of those quick transfer apps? We take most of those.”

“I’d have to reset my password. I have cash, can I just give you that?” Buck is shifting from foot to foot now and he doesn’t think he’s ever been this desperate to leave a bar. God knows where Eddie is right now (most likely on his way back to the car, but Buck wouldn’t put it past him for Eddie to hide around a corner and watch Buck freak out a little). 

“Sorry,” the bartender says dismissively, tapping a sign on the bar that says ‘Card Only. No cash accepted’. 

“I can give you a fifty and you don’t have to give me any change,” Buck offers desperately. “I don’t know if you saw the guy I was with but he’s apparently into me and is getting further away as we speak and I need to catch up to him so I can kiss him because we -”

“Oh my god, dude,” the bartender snaps. “I can’t take your cash. Reset your damn password and send the money here.”

“Sorry, sorry. Fine,” Buck mutters, taking the card the bartender slaps down in front of him. It takes an entire five fucking minutes to reset his password and Buck thinks that if this isn’t one of the apps they accept he’s leaving, consequences be damned. 

“Right, that’s come through now. Do you want a receipt?” The bartender asks, but Buck is already halfway gone by the time they finish their sentence.  He thinks maybe he pushes past Taylor closer to the door but he doesn’t stop, basically falling out the door and into the now torrential downpour. Buck takes the same left turn Eddie did, jogging through the rain towards the car. They’d only parked a couple of blocks away, but Buck is still soaked through by the time he reaches the car. As expected, Eddie isn’t in the car but it doesn’t take long to spot him across the road leaning against a lamppost. 

“What are you doing?” Buck shouts. 

“Embracing whimsy!” Eddie yells back, arms out wide. “Get over here, would you?” 

“We’re soaked,” Buck complains, looking both ways before crossing the road because this day will not end in him getting hit by a car.

“You’ve been out here for like two minutes, I’ve been standing here for almost ten. How long does it take to pay a fucking bar tab?”

“Oh my god,” Buck whines. “System was down and they don’t take cash. I had to reset my password on a transfer app and they kept not sending the fucking code. Have I worked for it enough yet? Because I might actually die if I don’t kiss you in the next ten seconds.”

“Well we can’t have that.” Eddie is almost inaudible over the rain, but Buck doesn’t need to be able to hear him to read the look in his eyes as he sways closer. Eddie’s fingers slide through Buck’s sopping wet hair and pull him closer, crushing their lips together right there on the street in the pouring rain. Buck circles his arms around Eddie’s waist and squeezes, lifting him off the ground and spinning him around. He’ll show Eddie fucking whimsy out the ass if it makes him laugh even half as much as he’s laughing against Buck’s lips right now. 

“Let me take you home?” Buck suggests, lowering Eddie back onto the ground. Eddie’s hands are still in his hair, squeezing a little to wring some of the water out. 

“I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

—

“I want you to show me,” Eddie says as they walk up to his front door, rain easing, “what the end of a date looks like with Evan Buckley.”

“We talking first date or eighth date here? Because those two have very different endings,” Buck smirks. Eddie turns around, back to the door, and grins. 

“Show me both.”

“Well, if this were our first date I’d say that it has been an absolute pleasure meeting and spending the evening with you,” Buck starts, stepping closer and ducking his head a little. He reaches up and brushes a lock of wet hair off Eddie’s forehead, sliding his hand down to cup Eddie’s cheek. “We should do this again soon, are you free tomorrow?”

“I’m free right now,” Eddie whispers, tilting his head into the touch. 

“Ah, I love the enthusiasm,” Buck grins. “But this - the start of something this beautiful - is way too special for me to risk ruining it by moving things too fast. How about I pick you up at five tomorrow?”

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes. “This is first date Evan Buckley?”

“For you, yeah,” Buck murmurs. “So, tomorrow?”

“I - yeah, I’ve got something booked for us so five is good. We can grab dinner.” Eddie’s breathing is heavy and a little uneven as Buck closes the gap between them, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He counts down from five in his head before pulling back and sliding his hand down to Eddie’s neck. 

“Can’t wait,” Buck hums. “Then I’d say goodnight, stepping away like this.” Buck lets his hand slip down to Eddie’s shoulder and trails it down his arm, squeezing his hand before letting go and stepping back. 

“Th-that, uh. That would definitely have me calling you as soon as you drove away,” Eddie chuckles. “Fucking hell.”

“Oh you are not ready for the end of an eighth date,” Buck laughs, stepping back towards Eddie. “You sure you want this?”

“Am I sure I want you?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the left and flicking his gaze down to Buck’s feet and back up again. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Well then, sweetheart,” Buck murmurs, brushing his lips over Eddie’s ear. “You’re going to want to turn around and unlock that door for me.”

“You’ve got keys,” Eddie counters with a smirk. Buck laughs again, breathless, before grabbing Eddie’s hips and turning him around. 

“I like to watch you work with your hands.” Buck pulls his keys out of his pocket anyway and slips them into Eddie’s hand. “You got this.”

“You could help me,” Eddie breathes, dropping his head back so it’s resting on Buck’s shoulder. “Feeling a little weak in the knees over here.”

“You just want my hands on you,” Buck teases, kissing Eddie’s temple as he slides one hand over the one Eddie is using to attempt to put the key in the lock. “Guilty,” Eddie murmurs as they unlock the door together and stumble inside, Buck kicking the door closed behind them. He’s got Eddie up against the door in seconds and attaches his lips to Eddie’s neck, unbuttoning his shirt slowly with one hand and using the other to tug his own shirt out of where it’s tucked into his pants. 

“Those were some kickass dates you took me on, new boyfriend,” Buck hums with his lips pressed against Eddie’s ear. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Eddie huffs. “Do you have any idea how fucking free I’ve felt for the last month?”

“I’ve got some idea,” Buck grins, peeling Eddie’s wet shirt off. He drops it to the ground before placing his hands on Eddie’s belt buckle and hesitating. “Uh. Ok. I might be about to make this awkward again.”

“Wouldn’t be a night with you if it didn’t get weird once or twice,” Eddie snorts. “We’re just a little above average.”

“Funny,” Buck says drily. “So, uh. I know for you this is our eighth date -”

“But for you it’s our first,” Eddie interrupts, one hand cupping Buck’s cheek. “And this feels like rushing things. Especially something this beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Buck mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Eddie laughs. “I just said you don’t owe me anything. That means you don’t owe me anything.”

“I know, but you asked for eighth date Buck. Granted I’ve only made it to eight dates with a very small handful of people, but uh. This is how they typically end,” Buck admits in a rush, suddenly unable to make eye contact. 

“In the entire almost eight years we’ve known each other, has anything about us ever been typical?”

“No, I suppose not,” Buck murmurs. 

“We’re ending this like a first date then - kind of,” Eddie tells him, both hands now on his face. “Can I interest you in some super soft and dry sweatpants with that shirt you’ve stretched out? Maybe a couple of beers on the couch and a movie?”

“Hey you love that stretched out shirt,” Buck argues with a grin. “Plus blue is way more my colour than it is yours.”

“No arguments here,” Eddie shrugs, leaning in to kiss him again. Buck sighs into it and slides his hands up to Eddie’s waist, tugging him and walking backwards towards the bedroom. They change quickly and Buck completely unashamedly watches Eddie strip out of his wet clothing, certain that Eddie is moving intentionally slow as he pulls on a worn grey tank top and ridiculously soft black sweatpants. 

“You look good,” Buck utters softly, reaching out to touch Eddie’s biceps. Because he can now. 

“I look the same way I always do.” Eddie scrunches his nose up as he looks down at himself, gesturing vaguely. 

“Liar,” Buck smirks. “You’ve been working out more. Not that you needed to.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie hums, taking Buck’s hands. “There’s this guy at work I’ve been trying to impress. Think it’s working?”

“Oh it definitely is,” Buck chuckles. “He’s very impressed. And very much looking forward to maybe making out with you on the couch a little.”

“Fucking finally,” Eddie laughs, dragging Buck out to the living room. Buck couldn’t tell you what movie they chose if you’d paid him to - he spends the entire one hundred and three minutes alternating between making out with Eddie and tracing featherlight patterns up and down his arms. 

“This is not how I anticipated this night ending,” Buck admits, though it’s less of an admission and more of an obvious statement of fact. 

“This is exactly how I anticipated this night ending,” Eddie laughs. 

“Could have been how the last seven evenings together ended if you’d been more obvious,” Buck teases. Eddie pinches Buck’s nose and kisses him again. 

“I think it was better this way. You’ve had less time to overthink how you should be acting around me as a romantic partner rather than a platonic one,” Eddie murmurs and yeah, he’s right. Buck wriggles down and tucks his head under Eddie’s chin, sighing contentedly as Eddie squeezes him close. 

“So,” Buck hums. “What have you got planned for us next? Stargazing in the desert? Spa day? Private paint and sip?”

“We can do all that,” Eddie yawns, arms snug around Buck’s waist. “But tomorrow night we’re taking a cocktail making class at that bar I wanted to take you to the night Robbie got sick, and then on Saturday we’re hitting up the Christmas markets in Anaheim.”

“I’m the something pink and fruity, aren’t I?” Buck asks, tilting his head up to look at Eddie who closes his eyes and nods. “Y’know, I was screaming in my head that I was.”

“It was a good line,” Eddie laments. “And apparently not totally wasted on you.”

“Mild torture, sure. But not a waste,” Buck snorts. Eddie kisses the top of his head and Buck is asleep before he has a chance to start overthinking any of it.

—

Buck uses the cocktail making class as an opportunity to show off some of his bartending skills in an attempt to impress Eddie. He’s pretty sure it works because Eddie pushes him up against the side of his truck afterwards and kisses him for a solid five minutes before he drives him home. 

The Christmas markets, though? Magical. Enchanting. Whimsical. They’ve got fake snow machines going, it’s legitimately cold, and Buck gets to walk through the stalls selling handmade gifts and desserts holding Eddie’s hand. He buys way too many sweet treats - cookies (s’mores inspired, Eddie), brownies (Black Forest, Eddie), marshmallows (cinnamon sugar dusted, Eddie), and fudge (forty flavours, Eddie). 

Chris is with them, walking six feet in front and pretending he doesn’t know them (until he finds a churro stand and realises he does actually need to speak to his dad to buy something). 

“You guys want hot chocolate as well? There’s a stand one row over making the good stuff with actual melted chocolate,” Buck offers. Chris shrugs and tries not to smile, Eddie presses a soft kiss to Buck’s cheek and guides Chris to a nearby bench. 

“Do I have to sit with you?” Chris asks. Buck doesn’t hear Eddie’s response as he walks away, but by the time he comes back juggling three steaming cups Chris is sitting on the next bench over. 

“Milk chocolate with hazelnut syrup,” Buck says as he passes Chris his cup. Chris thanks him earnestly and then continues to pretend he doesn’t know him - it’s almost impressive how quickly he can flip between the two. 

“He’ll come back around, right? I mean, we never did with our parents but he’ll want to be friends with us again eventually?” Eddie whispers as Buck takes his place pressed along Eddie’s side on the bench. They’re overlooking the Christmas tree farm, watching families stroll by. Fairy lights are flickering around them and Buck doesn’t think he’s ever felt more at peace than he does in this moment. 

“Absolutely. We actually like him and he knows that,” Buck murmurs, sliding a cup into Eddie’s hand. “Dark chocolate with cinnamon.”

“Ah, you know me so well. Dark chocolate with coconut for you?” Buck simply grins in response, feeling warm down to his toes as Eddie wriggles impossibly closer and rests his head on Buck’s shoulder.

“To whimsy,” Buck declares. Eddie looks up at Buck, gaze almost unbearably soft as he leans up to kiss him. 

“To us,” Eddie hums. “Took us way too long to get here - some of us longer than others - but I am thoroughly enjoying being whimsical with you.”

“There’s a lot more of that to come,” Buck promises. “You planned the first ten dates, I’ve got the next ten. You’re about to be hit over the head with so much whimsy you’re gonna forget who you are.”

“How…romantic?” Eddie snorts. “What’ve you got in mind?”

“Private paint and sip on Wednesday with a Mexican artist who does those floral paintings I know you love,” Buck tells him, “and then a picnic at sunset at a secret location on Thursday. After that, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

“Very whimsical,” Eddie murmurs, kissing Buck again. “Not that I expected any less from you.”

“Whimsy out the ass, Eddie. You’d better brace yourself.”

“Consider me braced,” Eddie laughs. He settles himself back down and takes Buck’s free hand into his own, lacing their fingers together. 

Buck makes a mental note to thank whoever organised the raffle at Christopher’s school. 

—

Buck wakes on their one year anniversary to Eddie taking a photo of the two of them curled up in bed. Buck is pressed along Eddie’s back with one arm snug around his waist, face pressed into the back of his neck. 

“Creep,” he mumbles with a yawn. Eddie chuckles softly and squeezes Buck’s hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing each knuckle. 

“You look pretty,” Eddie shrugs. “Wanted to capture the moment.”

“You should capture my mouth with yours instead,” Buck goads quietly. Eddie takes the bait and turns in Buck’s arms to lean in and kiss him, morning breath be damned. 

“Happy anniversary,” he murmurs into Buck’s mouth. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Happy anniversary,” Buck smiles, resting his forehead against Eddie’s. “I’ll go back to sleep if you go back to sleep.”

“I will,” Eddie promises. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Buck yawns, easily drifting back off as Eddie rubs circles on the bare skin of his back. 

Buck wakes again a couple of hours later (alone) to an Instagram notification and a single text from Eddie. 

Eddie 💚: In the kitchen with breakfast and your gift when you’re done. Take your time. I love you. 

Eddie has unblocked him from the Instagram account Buck had honestly forgotten about. A quick scroll through shows photos from every date they’ve been on over the past year, from the more adventurous activities right down to their quieter evenings at home. Each photo is captioned with either something tooth-rottingly sweet (‘you officially moved back in today. I still can’t figure out why you ever felt the need to leave in the first place - this has been your home for years. I love you so much it hurts sometimes and I know having you with me all the time is only going to amplify that. I can’t wait’) to something snarky (‘Eat the soup, you said. It’ll be fine, you said. Yet here I am a day later dry heaving over the toilet because my body has nothing left to expel. Food poisoning is one hell of a birthday gift, Buck. You’re lucky I love you as much as I do’).  

The one for their eighth date reads ‘Well. You didn’t know we were dating. Evidently I needed to be more obvious when I asked you out because I can totally see how the way I worded it made it seem like a friendly hangout and not a date. But maybe it was better this way? If you’d been anxious and freaking out then I would have been as well. But you weren’t, so I wasn’t. Won't this be a hell of a story for the grandkids?’

“Grandkids?!” Buck yells out. 

“Keep reading, Buck,” Eddie yells back. 

There’s the picture of Buck holding up the small plastic trophy he won when they did mini golf with ‘You know I let you win, right?’ written underneath it. Buck does know Eddie let him win, because he may not be the best at math but he can do basic addition and Eddie had definitely fudged the scores. 

They'd gone to Pepa’s for lunch together for their twelfth date - Eddie posted a photo of Buck standing in Pepa’s kitchen as she gave him strict instructions on how to make chile verde just the way Eddie likes it. Eddie wrote ‘Pepa told me today that if she’d known all those years ago that setting me up with you was what makes me this happy she could have saved a lot of people from a lot of heartache. She’s not wrong. She loves you, you know? Not as much as I do, but still. You’re family.’

The photo from their thirteenth date is a dark shot of a post-coital Buck sprawled across Eddie’s chest. Buck can see that the photo is set to private, but is honestly still surprised Eddie posted it. He saves it to his phone and screenshots the caption which says ‘You asked me if it was worth the wait. I said this to your face but I’ll say it again here - everything about you, Evan Buckley, is one thousand percent worth the wait. I would have waited a lifetime to be with you, but fuck am I glad I don’t have to’.

There’s a photo of Buck on the couch in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, one leg stretched out in front of him and one foot up on the couch with his knee against his chest. He remembers this evening - Eddie had worked a half-shift covering for a paramedic on B-shift whose wife had dental surgery or something, coming home around lunchtime. Buck had turned his head to greet Eddie right as he took the photo, grinning at Buck and disappearing down the hallway. He’d returned minutes later in matching sweats, lifting Buck’s arm and settling himself against Buck’s side with an arm around his waist. They’d spent the rest of the day like that, Eddie falling asleep in Buck’s arms. The photo is simply captioned ‘You look cute today’.

The most recent caption, though, is the one that makes the building tears spill over. It’s the photo Eddie had taken of them this morning, angled to capture both of them. Buck’s nose is nuzzled into Eddie’s neck, and Eddie is grinning at the camera. The caption reads ‘One year of you. One year of us. There was a time in my life where I honestly believed I would never find happiness - that I didn’t deserve it. You proved me wrong and continue to prove me wrong each day we spend together. I’ve got a lot of regrets in my life, but you will never be one of them. You are one of a small handful of things I am completely certain of. I love you, Buck. Thank you for being you.’

After Buck has read each and every one he makes his way out to the kitchen with tear-stained cheeks, wrapping his arms around Eddie from behind and burying his nose into Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Eddie,” he croaks. “What the fuck.”

“What?” Eddie asks innocently. “I’m just making breakfast. Did something happen?”

“Did something happen,” Buck mimics with a huff. “Asshole.”

“Hey,” Eddie pouts, wounded. “See if I keep making your breakfast burrito now.”

“Extra chorizo?” Buck perks up, peering over Eddie’s shoulder at the pan on the stove. He hadn’t even noticed when he walked in the kitchen, but now he can smell the caramelised onion and spicy chorizo and he’s salivating. Not like he wasn’t already - Eddie is wearing only his navy boxer briefs (the ones that are just a little too tight on him). 

“Always,” Eddie snorts. “Got the good oaxaca cheese from that deli downtown too. Or cotija if you’d prefer that?”

“Por que no los dos?” Buck says into Eddie’s neck. He feels Eddie’s chest rumble under his hands as he laughs, cracking eggs into the pan and turning down the heat. 

“Both it is,” he hums. He turns in Buck’s arms and kisses him, deep and slow. “Good morning. Again.”

“Morning. Explain to me how Eddie Technophobe Diaz kept up an Instagram account for an entire year.”

“The anticipation of this reaction right here is how,” Eddie tells him, brushing his thumbs over Buck’s cheeks. “How many times did you cry?”

“Held it together until today’s photo,” Buck admits. “Though I started tearing up around the thirteenth photo.”

“Ah, yes,” Eddie grins. “You were, just FYI. Worth the wait.”

“So were you,” Buck breathes. He links his hands together at the back of Eddie’s neck and takes in the sharp line of his jaw and his full rosy cheeks, kisses them softly. Sometimes he still can’t believe he gets to have this - a life with Eddie. 

“You’re gonna make me burn breakfast,” Eddie warns, sliding his hands down to Buck’s hips. “You need to go out back to get your gift.”

“How was the Instagram account not the gift?” Buck asks, reluctantly stepping back and heading for the back door. Eddie doesn’t answer, just watches him expectantly and gestures to the back door. Buck opens the door cautiously and immediately drops to his knees to greet the medium-sized brown and black dog sitting dutifully on the step. 

“Her name is Lola,” Eddie says from behind him. “She’s a Sheprador.”

“The hell is a Sheprador?” Buck asks, not actually caring because she’s super fucking cute. She’s got a purple bow around her neck and is wagging her tail frantically as Buck shifts and sits down, patting his knees to beckon her over. She approaches a little hesitantly, sniffing Buck’s upturned palms before all but leaping into his lap and licking his face with enthusiasm that almost matches Eddie. 

“A dog that’s taking my job,” Eddie grumbles, crouching down next to them. “She’s a Labrador German Shepherd mix. She’d been at the shelter for a year, is apparently very well trained, and has taken to you even faster than you took to Blaze.”

“Are you jealous of the dog? The dog that you got for me?” Buck laughs as Eddie reaches out and scratches behind Lola’s ears. 

“The dog I got for us,” Eddie corrects. “And no, that would be an incredibly unhinged thing for me to be jealous of.”

“Uh huh,” Buck grins. Eddie is absolutely jealous. Eddie is also about to burn breakfast. “Eggs, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” Eddie hisses, leaping up to yank the saucepan off the stove. He effortlessly sprinkles in the cheese, stirring as he hums to himself. “So, uh. We’re probably going to need to move to a bigger place.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Apparently Shepradors can get very bored and destructive if they’re not given enough attention,” Eddie smirks, pointing the spatula at Buck. “Kind of like you.”

“It’s ok Lola,” Buck says as he turns back to the dog, throwing his middle finger up at Eddie over his shoulder . “I’ll give you one hundred percent of my attention.”

“Christopher might have something to say about that,” Eddie grumbles. “Also your very loving and devoted boyfriend who has already started looking at three bedroom houses in the area would probably feel somewhat neglected.”

“Three bedrooms?” 

“Yeah. Y’know, in case we want to add to the family at any point in the next couple of years.” Eddie’s tone is aggravatingly casual as Buck slowly turns around and finds said loving and devoted boyfriend scooping the egg mixture from the pan onto the tortillas which look handmade. He doesn’t look at Buck until he’s evenly divided the food and tightly wrapped the burritos, dropping them onto the pastel purple plates (they have a full pastel rainbow now, with matching bowls and mugs). 

“Eddie,” Buck whispers as Lola pads into the kitchen, sniffing curiously around the table. “You can’t just say shit like that as you casually serve breakfast.”

“Can and did,” Eddie shrugs, a shit-eating grin lighting his face. “What do you think I meant when I talked about our grandkids?”

“I assumed you meant any kids Chris has,” Buck laughs breathlessly. “You want more kids?”

“With you, yes. You?”

“I think the romantic weekend away I’ve booked for us pales in comparison to what you’ve done for me,” Buck snorts. “And I think we’re gonna need more than three bedrooms.”