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I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week.
How many secrets can you keep?
There’s a quiet hum of a song in the restaurant as Buck’s excitedly laying out plans for Eddie’s- well, Buck’s garden, now. Eddie can’t really look away from him. He can’t stop watching the glint in his best friend’s eyes. He can’t stop himself from staring at the pink of his lips, his birthmark. He can’t stop himself from wanting to crawl closer and closer to him, to drag his ragged, broken body across the asphalt to get closer to Buck. He can see him, in his mind’s eye, dragging himself towards Eddie, blood splattered on his face.
Hen’s laughing at Buck, ribbing him with Chim and Bobby looks at them with a gentle smile on his face and Eddie just- he doesn’t know what he feels. There’s a chasm opening up in his chest, the stretch of asphalt between him and Buck elongating into eternity. He can still see the blues of Buck’s eyes. He can still see the hurt in them, catty pettiness only matched by Eddie’s own stubborn streak – he can still see the soft, gentle smile, full of heartbreak when Buck told him Yeah. For you and Chris.
Buck would break himself in half for many people, Eddie knows that, but this- this is different. This isn’t a daring rescue, this isn’t asking someone to move in to cover up a break in a relationship. This is Buck, stepping in and giving Eddie exactly what he needs. This is Buck, beautiful, stubborn Buck, having his back.
Eddie wasn’t lying that Buck would lose to Chris. Of course he would. Everyone will lose to Chris. Still, if the choice was Buck or anyone but Chris-
The answer should maybe scare him, Eddie realises as the dinner comes to a close and his friends lovingly rib him into buying his own goodbye dinner. He’s a little tipsy, sue him, he’s leaning into Buck’s side, soaking up the feeling of a strong arm pressed against his for as long as he can.
The answer should scare him.
It doesn’t. Instead, it tears him up inside.
If the choice was Buck or anyone but Chris- Buck would win. Will always win, no matter what.
Bobby drives them home, dropping Buck and Eddie off at the Diaz- Buckley? Buckley-Diaz? House. Eddie shivers a little at the way their names sound, intertwined. He’d stitch their names together, if he could, mingle them, mix their blood, tangle the fibres of their arm muscles. There’s something rearing its ugly head inside his chest, something ravenous and desperate, something wailing in agony. It gets louder the moment they’re alone, Buck looking at him softly in the warm light of his living room.
‘Y-you want another drink?’ Eddie asks, standing in the same spot he stood earlier, when Buck told him, steady and stubborn, that he’d taken away the last hurdle left between Eddie and his son.
‘Sure,’ Buck says, all broad shoulders and mussed curls, blue eyes captivating in the warm light.
‘Old times’ sake,’ Eddie says, his voice croaking. He feels the monster inside of him shred his insides, clawing at his throat with desperation just to get out, get out, get out.
‘Yeah,’ Buck answers, flopping down on the couch and Eddie walks to the kitchen, the routine familiar, he’s done this too many times to count, pouring himself and Buck a tequila shot and grabbing two beers- they don’t have work in the morning, and anyway- it’s Buck. It’s Eddie. They won’t get drunk, not after this little alcohol- but they’ll get into that loose state, where Eddie doesn’t have to think about the fact that this will be the last time.
Buck takes the shot without any question and they knock them back, easily, eyes meeting over the rim of the glass as Eddie settles down on the couch next to Buck in an eerie mirror to the day Buck got dumped. Now, though, the gentle atmosphere is changed, charged with something. Eddie leans his head back against the couch, letting it fall to the side so he can watch Buck drink a few deep swigs of beer. His adam’s apple bobs slowly, and Eddie watches a droplet of condensation run down Buck’s fingers- a drop of beer running down Buck’s lips, his chin. His hands flex around the bottle and the thing inside of Eddie is starved.
‘Thank you,’ Eddie says, finally.
It feels inadequate to encompass everything that Evan Buckley has done for him. It’s not enough, it can never be enough. But Eddie doesn’t know a better word.
Buck turns to him, sliding down on the couch, leaning his head against the backrest, meeting Eddie’s eyes – they’re close like this, Eddie can count each of Buck’s eyelashes, trace over his nose and his acne scars, the light stubble around his chin. It’s a shame, Eddie thinks, that no one’s ever painted him like this, open and vulnerable and sad, in Eddie’s house. Eddie reckons the painting would be more haunting than the Mona Lisa herself.
‘Of course,’ Buck says, like it’s that simple. Like anyone’s ever loved Eddie like this. Like anyone’s ever had his back like this. Like Eddie’s ever loved anyone like this.
They lapse into silence after that, just- staring at each other, really. Eddie’s transported back a few hours, he imagines that he’d let Buck finish his sentence before the knock on the door- he imagines what would’ve happened if Hen and Chim and Bobby had been a little late.
‘It’s me, I’m your renter,’ Buck would’ve said. ‘Now you don’t need to worry.’
The words would’ve hit Eddie like a freight train, just like they did hours ago, but- there’d be no one watching. It’d be just the two of them, in the house that’s been theirs for longer than Eddie can think.
‘You really did all this for me?’ Eddie would have asked, and maybe he would’ve been brave, maybe he would’ve stepped closer, maybe he would’ve reached out to touch Buck- placing a hand on Buck’s chest.
‘Yes,’ Buck would’ve whispered. ‘For you and Chris.’
And Eddie wouldn’t have remembered that there were people in the room. Eddie would’ve done what every fibre of his body was screaming at him to do. He would’ve followed his instincts. He would’ve let himself feel joy, just one last time.
‘What are you thinking about,’ Buck asks as Eddie stares at him, stares at his lips.
‘You did all that for me,’ Eddie says, voice awed, breaking, tearing apart at the seams.
‘Of course,’ Buck mumbles, again, looking at Eddie with wide, glistening, wanting eyes.
And then, Eddie chooses joy.
He also chooses devastation.
‘Buck,’ he whispers, reaching out, a hand twisted in Buck’s shirt. ‘I-’
There’s tears in his eyes, he’s pretty sure. But he can’t focus on that, not when Buck’s looking at him like that, with just- pure fucking desperation in his eyes.
He’d give Buck the world, if he could, catch the sun and the moon and the stars for him, place them at his feet. He’s given Buck his entire soul, years ago already.
‘Eds,’ Buck mumbles, and- shifts closer, and Eddie’s breath hitches, because he can feel the gentle caress of air escaping Buck’s lungs on his lips- he can feel the proof, the knowledge that Buck is here and real and alive.
‘Can- can I-’
‘Anything,’ Buck says, eyes blazing. ‘Anything.’
It’s all Eddie needs to close the gap and press a soft, devastating kiss to Buck’s lips.
He’d have done that earlier, if they’d been alone. He’d been tempted to do it anyway, even though they weren’t alone. The thought of leaving for Texas without- without tasting the gasp Buck lets out, without feeling Buck’s hands in his hair, without pulling him closer, without knowing the texture of Buck’s lips – it doesn’t bear thinking about.
Buck whimpers a little, a broken, sad sound and Eddie realises that he’s been crying- maybe for a while now, but he can’t stop, not when Buck’s holding onto him like he’s the last person alive on the planet, not when all he can do, for these last precious weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds, is hold on, tighter than ever before.
He ends up on Buck’s lap, how, he isn’t quite sure, but he can’t care, not when Buck’s shaking underneath him and the kiss tastes like salt, a little like blood, but Eddie doesn’t know if he’s imagining that part. He feels like a vat of gasoline and Buck’s the match- or maybe they’re both one vat of gasoline and Texas, the road between them is the match. Maybe Eddie’s the match, igniting and incinerating the best relationship he’s ever had- will ever have, undoubtedly. Maybe Eddie’s the thing that’ll destroy them. Maybe they’re destroying each other with this, lips and tongues and desperate, shaking hands.
Buck’s digging his fingers into Eddie’s ass and Eddie grinds down, pulling back enough to catch his breath and pushing his forehead against Buck’s, wishing, hoping that Buck’s holding on tight enough to leave bruises through the fabric.
‘E-eds-’ Buck whimpers. ‘Wh-what are we- doing-’
Eddie lets out a sob.
‘I- I don’t know,’ he whispers, grinding his hips down and committing the way Buck’s breath hitches to memory. ‘I- I know- this is selfish- I- I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry-’
‘’M sorry, too,’ Buck whispers, pulling Eddie impossibly closer, burying his face in Eddie’s neck.
‘D-do you want to stop?’
‘No,’ Buck says, biting down on Eddie’s neck, and Eddie, delirious and heartbroken, arches his back grinding his hips down and fuck, he’s hard and Buck’s hard and he’s dizzy with everything.
‘’Kay,’ he moans. ‘I- can we- just one night- I know that’s selfish- I just- if- if that’s all I get to have of you-’
Buck lets out a soft sob, the sound undercut with soft kisses and gentle nips on Eddie’s skin. Eddie wants him to bite down hard again, brand him, claim him, leave his mark in a way that’ll never fade. His best friend pulls back, catching Eddie’s gaze.
‘You want to have me?’ Buck asks, shy, tears shining in his eyes, tracks barely drying on his face.
‘Yes,’ Eddie says. It’s the basic truth of his existence. He wants Buck. He always wants Buck. ‘Do you want to have me?’
Buck lets out a sound like a dying animal.
‘Always,’ he whispers. ‘Always wanted you- always will.’
Eddie bites his quivering lips.
‘I’m yours,’ he says, finality in his voice. ‘Always- but at least tonight.’
‘I’m yours, too,’ Buck says. ‘Always have been.’
Eddie pushes their foreheads together, his fingers finding the hem of Buck’s shirt, spreading underneath, over the hot skin, shivering underneath his touch.
‘Bedroom,’ he whispers and Buck listens, immediately, follows his lead, gives Eddie everything he wants, because that’s what he does. Eddie’s lifted up, kissed hard and deep and longingly, hands on his thighs as Eddie holds on for dear life, fingers running through Buck’s curls as his best friend – the love of his life, loss of his life, all of the above – carries him down familiar hallways in his- their house.
He’s lowered on the bed with deceptive gentleness, because Buck crawls over him with a ravenous hunger, their shirts landing somewhere in the room, trousers and socks discarded soon after until they’re both left in their briefs and Eddie’s whining into Buck’s mouth, his heart torn in two as Buck pushes clever fingers underneath the elastic of his waistband, his fingers closing around Eddie’s cock.
The noise he lets out when Buck finally pulls off Eddie’s briefs, his own following soon after is nothing short of a lament- a lament for the ways their bodies fit like puzzle pieces, as if they were carved from the same wood, fashioned out of the same star matter. Buck’s hands on Eddie’s body set his veins alight and Eddie wants Buck to crack open his ribs and climb inside. He wants to take Buck with him, to hide him away from airport security by burrowing him deep into his heart, to stuff him in the trunk of his car, keep him safe and close.
‘W-what do you want,’ Buck asks, fingers coming to brush over Eddie’s face, thumb tracing a tear track down Eddie’s face.
‘You,’ Eddie says. ‘I- I want to feel you- I want- I want to feel it- tomorrow, the day after- always-’
Buck’s eyes widen.
‘Y-you want me to fuck you?’
Eddie shakes his head vehemently.
‘Love,’ he says, his voice shaking. ‘Want you to make love to me.’
Buck’s breath hitches, his smile widens, painfully, and his eyes fill with those big crocodile tears, the ones that always break Eddie’s heart.
‘Make love?’ he asks, an edge of soft teasing in his voice. ‘You’re such an old man.’
‘Please,’ Eddie whispers. ‘If we only get this once- make love to me.’
Buck cradles his face with a tenderness that breaks something loose inside of Eddie, floodgates opening, tears streaming, desperate little whimpers dialed up to eleven.
‘Anything,’ Buck whispers. ‘Anything, Eds.’
Eddie lets out a soft, desperate whine as Buck fumbles for his wallet, lube and condoms and he almost loses his mind at that because Buck stops touching him, but then he’s- he’s back, he’s spreading lube over his thick fingers, and then there’s something warm and slippery pressing against his hole and Eddie’s eyes close against his better judgement for a few seconds when Buck pushes into him, gentle and achingly slow.
‘Eds,’ Buck whispers, awed, and Eddie’s eyes fly open again, catching the way Buck is watching him, with overwhelming need, like Eddie’s the air he needs to breathe.
It’d be nice, Eddie thinks as Buck opens him up, slow, careful, practiced, being the oxygen in his lungs. I’d never have to leave him.
He whimpers softly as Buck leans back down to kiss him, fingers playing Eddie like an instrument and all Eddie can do is hold on, fingers digging into Buck’s back, intent on leaving permanent marks, too.
‘’M ready,’ he whispers, after an eternity caught in Buck’s arms, losing himself in his kisses. ‘Please-’
‘Yes, yes- anything,’ Buck groans and Eddie scrambles a little, his lips still salty with tears, ripping open the condom and getting his hands on Buck’s cock- and fuck, he’s touching another man’s cock, he’s touching Buck’s cock and- that should be scary, but all Eddie can feel is his very being wrenched apart by fate’s cruel twist- and he doesn’t even fucking believe in that shit. All he can feel is need.
Buck’s whining against Eddie’s shoulder, shaking and Eddie’s caught in it, caught in the fact that his hands hold so much power over Buck – that he can make Buck whimper and shake and cry, with a flick of his wrist- it’s one of the most transcendent things he’s ever felt, the closest he’s ever felt to god, here, in his bedroom that’ll be Buck’s soon, in the home he built with his son and his best friend, the home he’s giving up.
‘Please,’ he whispers, finally, letting go, and Buck, loyal and perfect to a fault, knows exactly what he needs, pushing Eddie back down into the mattress and lining himself up, pushing in and- Eddie- Eddie sees stars. The universe explodes around him, the sun rises and falls as Evan Buckley sinks into him, their bodies fitting like puzzle pieces, as he’s blanketed underneath Buck’s broad body, pressing him into the mattress and he- he has to- he-
‘I lo-’ he whispers but Buck closes a hand over his mouth.
‘N-no,’ he says, voice begging. ‘I- I can’t- if you- if I hear- that- I won’t be able to let you go-’
Eddie sobs quietly, feels Buck’s cock inside of him pulse desperately and he’s caught in a limbo of pain and pleasure, body and soul ripped apart. He twists his head to the side, away from Buck’s grip.
‘I do, though,’ Eddie whispers and he’s selfish, selfish, selfish, but how could he not love Evan Buckley? He loves him, irrevocably.
Buck’s lip trembles and Eddie feels flayed alive, pleasure sparking in his veins.
‘I know,’ Buck whispers. ‘I do, too.’
Eddie’s heart clenches.
‘But I can’t- if you say it, if it’s real- I can’t, not when- I’m gonna lose you, after.’
The sob Eddie lets out is wrenched out of his soul and he sinks his fingers into Buck’s back, hips twitching- and Buck gets the message, rolling his hips, slow, careful rocks first.
‘I’m sorry,’ Eddie groans as Buck moves, and he feels so full, so perfect, so at home. ‘I’m sorry- I’m so sorry-’
‘No,’ Buck says, his hips twitching quicker, more desperate. ‘No- I- the fact that you do- I’ve- no one’s ever had me like you do, Eds.’
Eddie whines, rolling his hips down, cock hard and leaking, tears streaming down his face.
‘I’ve never- I didn’t know I could- do so much,’ Eddie whispers. ‘You- you’re everything, Buck-’
With a low growl, Buck closes his hands on Eddie’s waist and his hips start to snap, quicker, deeper, and Eddie feels like he’s being taken apart, gently, piece by piece. His body’s twitching with pleasure, his mind is reeling- pained and ecstatic and utterly, completely devastated.
‘Please,’ Eddie whispers, other words failing him- except for one. ‘Buck- please- I’m sorry-’
Buck leans down, catching Eddie’s lips in a kiss full of teeth and tongue, canines claiming a spot on Eddie’s lips- Eddie wishes they would stay like that, lips indented, Buck on his body for the world to see.
‘Y- you’re so beautiful, Eds,’ Buck whispers. ‘So fucking beautiful.’
Eddie whines, desperately, moving with Buck’s rhythm, and his body is aching, screaming, begging for release and he can feel himself climbing closer and closer, the elusive top just out of reach until Buck reaches his free hand up and cradles Eddie’s face, thumb wiping away a few tears as he presses a kiss against Eddie’s eyebrow.
‘I do,’ Buck whispers. ‘Always will. Wherever you are.’
Eddie lets out a broken sob, his back bowing and he’s grateful that Buck leans down to kiss him as he tumbles over the edge, arching off the mattress- his entire body is screaming at him I love you I love you I love you I love you. He doesn’t think he’d have the werewithal to stop himself from saying it, when Buck’s own body shudders and Eddie feels how his best friend comes, buried inside of him, hands shaking, lips quivering, as Buck loses himself in pleasure, whispered praises too quiet to hear properly.
Buck kisses him through it, until they’re spent and his soft cock slips out and Eddie pulls him impossibly closer, draped over him, weight crushing him into the blanket.
‘I’m sorry,’ Eddie whispers after they break away from the kiss to catch their breath. ‘I’m- this was selfish-’
Buck shakes his head.
‘No,’ he whispers. ‘If it was- we’re both selfish.’
Eddie laughs, but there’s on humour in it.
‘We should’ve done this years ago,’ he says, running his fingers through Buck’s hair, watching the blush on his best friend’s cheek.
‘Yeah,’ Buck answers. ‘We should’ve.’
There’s years of regret behind them- Eddie’s future looms over the bed like a spectre, haunting him, sapping his bones of warmth. Eddie knows, now, what Buck sounds like when he comes. He knows what Buck tastes like. He knows what it’s like to watch Buck fall apart.
He chose joy. This is joy, of sorts.
It also breaks him, irrevocably. He’ll never love someone the way he loves Evan Buckley.
‘I do,’ he whispers. ‘I really do’
Buck lets out a soft cry and Eddie pushes his tears away, but that doesn’t do much when his best friend is crying, quietly, continuously.
‘I do, too,’ Buck answers. ‘Can- can we- stay-’
‘Please,’ Eddie whispers. ‘Stay the night.’
Buck nods, burying his face in Eddie’s sweaty neck. They should probably get up and shower- but Eddie can’t even begin to think of moving. Not when he’s got an arm full of Evan Buckley. Not when the next time he’ll get up, he’ll have to give him up. He’ll have to leave.
So, for now, he crawls deep into Buck’s ribcage, he seeps into his best friend’s pores, turns into liquid to be closer to him.
And tomorrow, when they wake up, Eddie will catch Buck’s gaze and whisper I do. And Buck’s eyes will turn misty and he’ll respond. Me too.
And tomorrow, there’s no time to talk about what happened. There’s no time because Maddie’s gone and Jee-Yun was all alone and then- when they find her, thankfully, safe, it’s time.
And Eddie watches Buck’s figure, in the rain, getting smaller and smaller. His own shirt is clinging to his torso uncomfortably. There’s cookies resting next to him on the seat, the plastic wrap wet with rain, tears, Eddie isn’t sure. There’s a note in there, scribbled hastily.
Drive safe, say hi to Chris for me. I’ll miss you. I do - B
Eddie can’t look at that, so he keeps his eyes half on the road, half on Buck’s retreating figure, staring after him, shoulders hung low, shoulders that Eddie’s held onto, lips that Eddie’s kissed for that one, perfect, glorious night. He leaves behind the love of his life and there’s a soft hum of a song playing on the radio.
Crawlin' back to you
Ever thought of callin' when
You've had a few?
'Cause I always do
Maybe I'm too
Busy bein' yours
To fall for somebody new
Now, I've thought it through
Crawlin' back to you