Archive of Our Own

It’s August of 1970 and the heat in Hershey, Pennsylvania, is almost suffocating. It’s barely 10am and Buck is already wiping the sweat from his brow, thankful that the tiny diner he works in is empty of customers for the moment.

Other than Bobby the chef, who’s sitting out back with the door wide open, Buck and Chim are the only people working today. Buck doesn’t even have the energy to torment Chim like he normally would though, so he sits on top of the counter despite not being allowed to, and Chim lies down along the cool leather seats of one of the booths that the sun hasn’t reached yet.

Occasionally they make a few remarks to each other, or Bobby will shout something from out back, but mostly they just stay quiet. Clearly most people are staying home or visiting the pool in this heat, not that Buck is complaining - the fewer customers, the easier his job. So Buck flicks through a magazine someone had left on the counter last night, but nothing is really that interesting, and honestly he’s barely even paying attention.

That all changes though, when the bell above the door chimes.

Buck hops off the counter instinctively, just in case it’s the boss, but the man who walks in is unfamiliar to Buck. That in itself is pretty unusual in their town, it’s so small that everyone knows everyone’s business, and a stranger is a rarity. But this stranger? Wow.

Buck flounders for a minute. He knows he should greet him but he can’t make his mouth do what his brain is telling it to. Because, god this man is beautiful, all tanned skin and soft, brown eyes, and if Buck wasn’t melting before, he sure is now.

“Can I help you?” Buck finally manages.

The man starts, as if he wasn’t expecting Buck to say anything. He meets Buck’s eyes shyly, and gives him an awkward wave. Buck is instantly enamoured with him, and he knows that’s a problem he has, one his sister always makes fun of him for. He falls in love at the drop of a hat, and this stranger isn’t wearing a hat, but he is wearing army greens, and that can only spell disaster.

“Uh, hi. Sorry,” the soldier says, nervously.

He looks like a deer caught in the headlights, like the slightest movement would spook him and send him running. Buck doesn’t want to frighten him off so he gives him his biggest, brightest smile.

“No worries buddy, you lost?” Buck asks him.

Slowly the soldier makes his way over to the counter Buck is standing behind, sliding his army issued backpack off. He doesn’t answer until he’s sitting at the counter, backpack tucked tightly between his feet. And god, he’s even more beautiful up close. Long, dark eyelashes, smooth skin, a shadow of stubble across his jaw. It’s all Buck can do to stop staring.

“Uh, no,” he replies, though he doesn’t sound sure. “My bus doesn’t arrive until this evening.”

Buck nods in understanding. He’s off to a military base somewhere, then no doubt overseas to fight a war too complicated for Buck to understand. And by the look on the other man’s face, he doesn’t look too keen about it either.

“Where you heading?” He asks, just to make conversation.

He’s pretty sure Chimney has fallen asleep, and there’s no way Bobby can hear them unless they shout. It feels private, even though he knows that’s dumb. Even though he needs to calm the hell down. He tugs at the collar of his uniform. It’s just hot, okay.

“Oh, California,” he replies.

Buck holds back the instinct to say something dumb like awesome. Because California is awesome, nothing more than a pipe dream for a small town kid like Buck. But war is decidedly not awesome, and he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself.

“Long way from home?” He asks instead.

The guy just shrugs then takes one of the menus and starts flicking through it, but Buck can tell with the way his eyes aren’t moving that he isn’t actually reading it.

“Can I just get a coca-cola, please?” He asks.

Buck nods, then turns around to grab a bottle from the refrigerator. The glass is cold in his hand, and condensation slides down it as he pops off the bottle cap and then hands it over.

“Thanks. How much?”

Buck just waves his hand. “On the house,” he says, smiling.

The guy looks at him, unsure at first, but he must read the sincerity on his face because he treats Buck to a half smile, then brings the bottle up to lips to take a drink. He gulps down the soda, and Buck can’t help but watch his throat as he swallows. The strong lines of his neck as they move, and the way the condensation drips down the glass and off his fingers. If the man notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Thanks,” he says once half the bottle is gone.

“No problem,” Buck replies, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

“I’m Eddie,” the guy says, smiling.

Buck didn’t want to know that, because now there’s a name attached to his beautiful face and Buck just knows he’s gonna spend at least the next six months thinking about the phantom Eddie. And yet, he still somehow feels lucky, that this shy stranger has shared it with him.

“Buck,” he introduces himself.

The soldier - Eddie - smiles, repeats Buck’s name quietly under his breath and then nods. It’s quiet for a moment or two, they just keep glancing at each other and then looking away when they catch the others eye. But then Eddie clears his throat, starts peeling off the label on the cola bottle.

“You busy?” He asks, his voice low, almost as if he doesn’t actually want Buck to hear.

“Oh yeah, y’know, this place is absolutely packed today,” Buck teases, gesturing at the unusually empty diner.

He knows it’s a dumb joke but he’s desperate to see Eddie smile again. He’s definitely not disappointed when he tilts his head back and lets out a bark of laughter, smiling so wide it almost blinds Buck. Buck feels oddly proud, like he earned it.

“Okay, fair point,” Eddie says, still smiling.

They fall quiet again, and Buck glances over to where Chimney is still lying, only the bottom half of his legs visible, sticking out from the edge of the booth. Buck sees his foot tap slightly.

“I just,” Eddie begins, and the smile is gone from his lips now. “I guess I don’t wanna be alone today.”

Buck’s heart breaks for him. He’s by himself in a strange town, far from the people he loves, heading to a war that no one really understands. And he’s shy, Buck can tell that much. So it must take a lot for him to ask for the company of a near stranger. Buck glances at the clock on the wall. 11am.

“You wanna get out of here?” Buck asks, throwing all caution to the wind.

Eddie’s eyes widen, clearly not expecting Buck to so easily offer his company up. He looks around the diner then raises a single eyebrow at Buck.

“Don’t you have to work?”

And technically, yes. Buck does have to work. He’s working his ass off to try and get to a college as far away as possible some day. But he’s been working all summer, and he can continue to work long after Eddie is gone. Eddie only has today.

“Oi, Chim,” he calls out. “I know you’re listening!”

Chim sits up then, his head popping up from behind the seats. He smiles and waves at Eddie, who up until that moment hadn’t even known anyone else was in the building.

“Hey,” he greets Eddie, who just nods in return.

“This place is gonna stay empty all day, can you cover for me?” Buck asks.

He could say no, but Buck covered for Chim and Maddie last week when he brought her home after curfew, so. He owes Buck, and the glare he sends in Buck’s direction shows it. Buck smiles at him, all wide eyes and faux innocence, and Chim just rolls his eyes in defeat.

“Fine, if the boss comes in I’ll tell him you got heat stroke or whatever,” Chimney complains. “Maybe he’ll finally install some AC,” he grumbles under his breath as he makes his way over to the counter.

Buck grins triumphantly and winks at Eddie.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises.

He rushes into the back to grab his backpack, and fills it with two bottles of cola and the sandwiches Bobby had made him for lunch. He calls out a goodbye to Bobby before heading back to meet Eddie. His palms are sweating from the nerves, and he knows it’s ridiculous but he can’t help it. Can’t help but get excited over spending even just a few hours with this stranger who makes his heart race.

“Ready to go?” He asks, somewhat breathless even though he hasn’t ran anywhere.

Eddie smiles and nods, and Buck thinks he’s probably making a terrible mistake but he can’t bring himself to care. He grabs hold of Eddie’s wrist and tugs him out the door, calling out a goodbye to Chim over the jingle of the bell.

Outside is even hotter, somehow, and the heat is heavy and humid. He doesn’t let go of Eddie’s wrist until they’re standing in front of Buck’s rusty blue pickup. She’s old but she’s reliable, and she’s Buck’s most prized possession. He reluctantly lets go of Eddie’s wrist to fish out his car keys from his backpack.

“You can put your pack in the bed if you want,” Buck offers as he’s unlocking the car.

Eddie nods and swings his bag into the back of truck, then walks around the other side to climb in. The second Buck has the engine running he switches in the AC, and they both let out an audible sigh of relief as the cool air washes over them. When they meet each other’s eyes they both start laughing.

“This heat is a bitch, huh?” Buck laughs.

He brushes back his sweaty curls and then fastens his seatbelt. Once Eddie has done the same, Buck begins to drive. Both their windows are rolled all the way down and the AC is in full, and for a few minutes they just drive in silence.

Oddly, there doesn’t seem to be even a hint of awkwardness. Buck had expected things to maybe feel a little weird, driving off with someone he’s known for less than thirty minutes, but it doesn’t. It just feels. Easy.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks eventually.

Buck turns to him and smiles knowingly, but doesn’t say a word. Eddie laughs and reaches over the gear shift to shove at Buck’s shoulder.

“C’mon man,” he says.

Buck just smiles wider and shakes his head. “You’ll see.”

“You’re not gonna take me out to the middle of nowhere and kill me right?” Eddie jokes.

Twenty minutes later and they’re in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by bushes and trees with no path to follow, just Buck’s lifetime of experience.

“Okay I was just joking about the killing me thing, but now I’m not so sure,” Eddie says from behind him.

Buck just laughs and keeps walking for a few minutes more. When he finally stops, Eddie walks straight into the back of him, and Buck has to try his hardest not to flinch when he feels Eddie’s hands on his waist to stop himself from falling.

He steps to the sides and then gestures to the view in front of him.

“Holy shit.”

And yeah, that’s a pretty accurate reaction. Because Buck has brought Eddie to his favourite place in the whole world. It’s a small lake - probably too small to even be called that - and it’s surrounded by overgrown grass, but the water is clear and cool, and the trees tower over it and provide much needed shade in the middle of summer. There’s a path leading to the waters edge, where it slopes all the way down so you can walk right into the middle of it.

It’s not like Buck is the only person in town who knows about it, it’s just that technically it’s private property so no one ever actually goes there. But it’s on an old man’s land and he barely ever leaves his house, and it’s not like Buck is doing any damage anyway. So whatever, it’s fine.

“This place is amazing,” Eddie sighs, looking around to take it all in.

Buck nods in agreement. “You wanna swim?”

Eddie’s eyes light up at that, and before Buck can say anything else Eddie is stripping off his uniform and heading for the lake. Buck can’t help but laugh at how eager he is, and he hears the splash of water just as he pulls his own t-shirt over his head.

The water is cool when Buck sinks into it, and it feels like his whole body instantly drops a couple degrees. He sighs in relief as he splashes some of the water onto his face. Eddie looks relieved too, floating on his back with his eyes closed and a content smile curving at the corners of his mouth.

Buck knows he shouldn’t stare, but Eddie is a work of art, belongs in a museum or something. And Buck doesn’t get the opportunity very often, not in a town as small as his, where everyone knows everyone and one rumour could spell disaster for him. Plus, Eddie’s eyes are closed and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

So Buck looks. At the defined lines of his arms and his abs, at his toned thighs, at his breathtaking face. And god, Buck wants. He’s wanted before, boys who were in his class in high school, and Tommy who works at the gas station. But they felt different to this, less, perhaps. Because Buck can’t remember feeling his heart race like this, can’t remember feeling nervous and giddy all at once.

And Eddie. The way he looked at Buck in the diner, and in the car on the way over? The soft smiles and shy glances? Maybe, Buck can’t help but think, maybe he’s just like me. He knows it’s a long shot, beyond unlikely, but he’s allowed to hope, even if the only thing he gets from it is a broken heart.

The sound of the water moving makes Buck avert his eyes just as Eddie stands up.

“I think I’m in heaven,” Eddie laughs, slicking his hair back.

Buck agrees.

“It’s awesome, right?”

“Man, I think I could spend forever here,” Eddie says.

They swim around for a while, splashing each other and pushing each other under the surface, but eventually the water chills them enough that they decide to get out. They lay on the grass beneath the sun, dressed only in their underwear as their skin dries off. They’re close enough that Eddie’s arm brushes against Buck’s, and it feels good. Peaceful. Neither of them move.

“I don’t want to go,” Eddie says some time later.

Buck jumps a little, not expecting Eddie to speak. He opens his eyes and turns his head to Eddie, only to realise that Eddie has sat up and is already watching Buck. He forces down the blush that’s trying to colour his cheeks and sits up beside him, mirroring the way his knees are bent and his arms are resting on them.

“Drafted?” Buck asks, even though the answer is obvious.

The war has been going on for so long now that it seems like it’s never going to end. People stopped believing in it long ago, and with that people stopped voluntarily joining up.

Eddie nods. “Yeah, last month.”

Buck doesn’t know what to say. He leans slightly to the right, lets his bare shoulder brush against Eddie’s and tries to ignore the way he feels Eddie relax as soon as their skin touches.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because there’s nothing else he can say.

Eddie turns to look at him again and smiles.

“Yeah, me too.”

They sit like that for what feels like both seconds and an eternity, their shoulders pressed together, slick with sweat from the sun beating down on them. It should be uncomfortable, the way their skin sticks together, but neither of them move away. It feels like it means something.

The whole day feels like it means something. The quiet ease with which they move around each other, and the way conversation and laughter comes simply to them. The way their eye contact lasts longer than it maybe should, and the way Eddie’s skin feels so right next to Buck’s.

The air feels heavy, dense with something other than humidity, and Buck wants to say the right thing but he doesn’t think those words exist.

“It’s like, what are we even doing over there?” Eddie asks.

Buck shrugs. “I don’t think any of us really know.”

“They’re sending us over there to die in a war that doesn’t belong to us,” Eddie says.

His voice is rough, like he’s holding back tears, and Buck can see his hands begin to shake. He almost stops himself from reaching out, but figures Eddie needs someone right now, even if that someone is just a stranger.

He covers one of Eddie’s hands with his own, and slowly Eddie tilts his palm upwards and tangles their fingers together. Buck’s entire body feels like it’s on fire; he’s never held a boys hand before. He doesn’t let himself react, though, because this is about so much more than whatever he is feeling.

“You’re gonna come back,” Buck says.

He sounds certain because he’s forcing himself to believe it. Buck has known this man for no more than a couple of hours by now, yet the thought of him not returning, the thought of him dying so far away from home, it makes his stomach turn and his blood run cold.

“I might not.”

“You will.”

Eddie squeezes Buck’s hand and Buck squeezes back. He shifts so he’s sitting cross-legged, and pulls their joint hands to rest in his lap. He lets his thumb stroke over the back of Eddie’s hand, and his breath catches in his throat when Eddie leans sideways and rests his head on Buck’s shoulder. It feels monumental.

“What about you?” He asks, and Buck can feel the vibrations of his voice.

“Me?”

“You haven’t been drafted yet?” Eddie asks.

Buck shifts uncomfortably. He had hoped to avoid this conversation.

“I’m, uh, I’m exempt. Medically,” Buck explains, embarrassed.

It’s not that he’s ever wanted to serve, but being exempt, even for legitimate reasons, makes Buck feel cowardly for some reason. He knows it isn’t, but when men like Eddie - good, kind men - are being drafted, Buck feels ashamed.

But Eddie just hums and nods his head slightly, where it’s still resting on Buck’s shoulder. Eddie’s still damp hair brushes against Buck’s cheek.

“I had an accident a few years back,” Buck says, because he feels like he needs to justify it.

“What happened?” Eddie asks.

“I was helping out my uncle during the harvest, and my leg got crushed under a tractor,” Buck explains.

He stretches out his left leg and runs his fingers along the scars to show Eddie.

“It doesn’t affect my daily life, y’know? I just can’t run very far or walk for too long, and sometimes I limp a little when the pain is bad.”

He’s not sure why he feels like he needs to explain, Eddie had just accepted his answer easily enough. But still. The man is off to fight in a war that Buck is safe from, so he should at least know the reason.

Buck opens his mouth to say something else but the words die in his throat when Eddie reaches out his free hand and begins to trace the scars on Buck’s leg, carefully following the same pattern Buck had just seconds earlier. A shiver runs down Buck’s spine despite the burning heat.

“That sucks, I’m sorry,” Eddie says.

And he sounds so genuine that Buck doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, because god. Of course he’s sorry for Buck, even though he’s the one who has to catch a bus to a military base in a couple of hours, who has to learn how to use a gun and then go and kill people with it.

Buck is afraid for him. Not just for his life, but for his soul. His heart. Eddie seems so full of light, so good. And Buck has grown up with a father scarred by war, he knows exactly what it can do to a person. He doesn’t want it to do the same to Eddie.

“It’s fine, I mean, I guess in a fucked up way it makes me pretty lucky,” Buck admits.

“Wish I had a janky leg,” Eddie says.

He’s just teasing though, that much is clear from the smile on his face when he sits back up and turns to look at Buck. He can’t help but roll his eyes, nudge Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

“Plus, the army - it ain’t no place for a guy like me,” Buck says.

He knows it’s risky, knows that he could be reading everything all wrong and Eddie might not be anything like him at all. But still. He says it anyway, because who else can he say it to, if not a stranger he’s never going to see again?.

“Like you?” Eddie asks.

His voice is soft, gentle.

“Queer.”

The word feels heavy in his mouth and it sticks to the back of his teeth like it’s too afraid to be spoken. It’s the first time he’s ever said it aloud to someone else, and not just whispered it to himself in the dead of night. Because his town, the whole world, is too small for people like that, people like him.

His chest feels tight and he can’t even force himself to look at Eddie, too afraid of his reaction. He suddenly feels all too aware of Eddie’s hand clasped in his, and he becomes certain that any second Eddie is going to snatch it back, call Buck a pervert or faggot and run away.

Instead, Eddie just squeezes his hand again, leans heavily against Buck and turns to look at him. The expression on Eddie’s face, it’s not one Buck has ever seen before, but it makes heat pool deep in his stomach and he can feel his breathing become shallow.

Slowly, Eddie’s face begins to move closer. Then his hand, sun-warmed and gentle, cups Buck’s jaw, his thumb brushing gentle strokes over his cheekbone. Their eyes meet, brown and blue and more intense than anything Buck has ever known before. And then, after what feels like a lifetime of waiting, Eddie’s lips press against Buck’s.

It’s soft and slow, and feels like both the sun shining down on them and the water they cooled off in. Like going on the greatest adventure. Like finding home. Like every good, beautiful, indescribable thing Buck has ever experienced, all in the easy press of Eddie’s lips.

He’s breathless when they separate, and his entire body feels like it’s tingling. His hands are grasping Eddie’s hair tightly and he knows he should probably let go, but he just can’t make himself.

When he finally opens his eyes, Eddie is smiling at him, bigger and brighter than he’s seen from him before.

“Hi,” Eddie says.

“Hey,” Buck replies, grinning back. “You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back,” Eddie teases.

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. “Can I do it again?”

“Yes please,” Eddie whispers, his lips already on Buck’s.

It’s longer this time, and it feels deep and sultry, has Buck wondering how he’s gone his whole life without knowing how it feels to kiss a man. How it feels to kiss this man. He feels a painful tug in his chest when he remembers that Eddie is leaving soon, but he ignores it in favour of kissing some more.

And that’s how they spend the rest of the afternoon.

They kiss, and then they swim some more, and kiss again. They eat the sandwiches and drink the cola that Buck had packed in his bag before leaving the diner. They lay on their backs in the sunshine, their hands clasped tightly together and their ankles hooked around each other’s. They carve their initials into the trunk of an oak tree like middle schoolers. They chase each other’s mouths, kiss until they’re breathless, hold each other so tightly their fingers leave red marks that linger.

As the sun begins to fall behind the tree line, a heavy anxiety settles in the pit of Buck’s stomach. The watch on Eddie’s wrist says it’s almost 4pm, and that means his bus will be arriving far too soon.

Buck tries to wind back the time on his wrist watch, tries to make the hours go back, or even minutes. He’d take seconds, if it would mean an extra moment with Eddie, more time to learn the taste of his mouth and the curves of his body and the colours in his eyes. Eddie has to hold his wrists to stop him, kisses him desperately because neither of them know how to do this and what they’re supposed to say.

No one ever teaches you how to say goodbye to someone that makes you feel alive, how to let go of someone who you’re certain you could love if only you were given the chance. But it’s getting too late now, and if they don’t leave soon then Eddie will miss his bus.

So they begin to dress, and Buck tries not to cry but it’s impossible. And then Eddie is holding him in his arms, so tightly that Buck can barely breathe. He thinks he’d learn how to survive without oxygen if it meant he got to stay in Eddie’s embrace forever. But he can’t. The clock is ticking and they have to go now, or it’ll be too late.

They kiss one last time, just before they leave the safety of the trees. It’s bitter and it’s sweet and Buck’s heart aches so wonderfully, because he got to have this. It was only for a few hours, far, far too short, but he got to know what it feels like to be cherished by someone. What it feels like to be kissed like they’ll die if they stop, even for a second.

And it hurts so much more than Buck could have ever imagined when that diner bell rang and Eddie walked in just a few short hours ago. But it’s a good hurt, Buck chooses to believe. Because it means that it’s real. And in hours and days and weeks and months, when Buck is missing him something terrible, he’ll still have this.

“It’s okay,” Eddie whispers.

And it’s not, not really. But Buck nods anyway.

“It’s okay,” he repeats.

The drive to the bus stop is silent. They hold hands the entire way and only let go when they have to get out of the truck. Buck waits with Eddie, sitting side by side on the little bench beside the sign for the bus stop, their shoulders pressing together.

Buck roots around his backpack for a pencil and piece of paper.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks.

Buck doesn’t reply, he just writes down his full name and address on the piece of paper. And his hands are shaking but he’s careful, writes each and every letter so meticulously that there’s no way Eddie could mis-read it. Once he’s done, he folds it carefully and presses it into Eddie’s waiting hand.

“Please,” is all he can say before the emotion threatens to overtake him.

“Of course,” Eddie sighs. “Of course, Buck. Every time I get the chance.”

“This is real, right?” Buck asks, and his voice is shaking because he’s terrified of the answer.

“It’s real,” Eddie promises.

The bus arrives at exactly 5pm, and it pulls to a stop right in front of them.

They both stand up, Eddie swinging his backpack onto one of his shoulders. Buck wants to reach out one more time, but he isn’t sure if that’s okay. Eddie doesn’t leave any room for doubt though, and pulls Buck into one final hug, closing all distance between them. It’s only quick, there are people waiting on the bus and there are too many eyes on them. So they pull back, smiling sadly.

“Goodbye, Evan.”

“Come home.”

He doesn’t cry when the bus door closes, and he doesn’t cry when he sees Eddie take his seat. He doesn’t even cry when Eddie’s places his hand on the window to wave goodbye as the bus drives out of sight. But when he’s back in his car, the doors safely locked, Buck sobs.

The first letter arrives two weeks later.

It’s not that Buck had been waiting by the door every morning for the mail to arrive, but it hadn’t been too far off that. And it’s not like his parents were around enough to notice, but Maddie definitely had. She’d asked him what happened that day he left work early, asked what he was waiting for, but Buck didn’t want to tell her the whole story.

And he trusts Maddie, more than anyone else in the whole world. But this is big and it’s scary, and Buck just isn’t ready yet to know how she would respond. So he tells her some watered down variation of the truth, leaving out all of the parts that have seared Eddie onto his heart, and she accepts it because she knows when she shouldn’t push.

So one Friday morning when Buck’s parents are both out at work, and Maddie drops a letter onto his stomach as he’s lying on the couch, he sits up so quickly he goes dizzy. The post mark says Oakland, California and the hand writing is unfamiliar but Buck still recognises it instantly. He holds it in his hands, reading his name and address written in Eddie’s script, over and over again.

He knows Maddie is watching him, knows that his behaviour is odd even for him. But he’s too afraid to just open it. He’s half prepared for it to be a goodbye, for Eddie to tell him that it was fun but really, it was only a few hours, and it’s over now. Buck has been reminding himself that that’s a possibility for the past two weeks, but now that the letter is in his hands he thinks it might break him if it’s the end.

“I’m gonna go see Chimney,” Maddie says, breaking the silence.

He knows what she’s doing, and he appreciates it more than he can say. He looks up to where she’s standing and she smiles gently at him.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid,” she tells him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

And god, he hopes she’s right.

It takes Buck another five minutes to open the letter after Maddie has left. He’s careful when he does, not to rip the envelope where the return address is written in the top corner. His hands shake as he pulls out the sheet of paper. The first thing he notices is the way it’s slightly creased, like Eddie had folded and opened it countless times while he was writing. He unfolds it and smooths it out over the coffee table, just looking at the words but not reading for a while.

He takes a deep breath.

Buck doesn’t realise he’s crying until his tears drop onto the letter. He sucks in a shaky breath and reads it again. Then again.

He can’t believe it, that Eddie wants to know him more, that he also feels like they deserve more time together. It’s what Buck had been hoping for, praying for to a god he’s not sure he believes in. But to see it written down, to have Eddie legitimise his wants. He feels like he can breathe again for the first time since the bus drove out of sight.

He still finds it hard to believe that they spent such little time together. It feels like decades were wrapped up in those few hours, and Buck knows he feels too much for such a short time, but it’s too late to turn back now. At least Eddie feels the same.

Buck doesn’t know how to write back. There are so many things he needs to say but the words have to be perfect. He spends all day at the dining table, hunched over a notepad that he hasn’t used since he graduated high school back in May. That’s where Maddie finds him, hours later, surrounded by piles of scrunched up paper.

“Buck?”

He jumps when he hears her voice. He hadn’t expected her to be back so soon, but then he looks at the clock on the wall and he’s actually been there for four hours. He understands now, why it took Eddie two days to write his. The words never feel right when he puts them down on the paper, they’re either too much or not enough.

“Hey Mads, sorry. Didn’t realise the time,” he explains.

He rushes to collect all the scrunched up attempts and close the notebook so she can’t read the one he’s in the middle of writing. She hands him a piece that had fallen on the floor, and she hasn’t smoothed it out to read but the look on her face is still concerned.

“Are you okay?” She asks softly.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” Buck says, but he sounds frazzled and Maddie knows him well enough to know when he’s lying.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes, he almost yells. Of course he wants to talk about it, he wants to scream about it for gods sake. But he just meets Maddie’s eyes briefly and then shakes his head.

She still follows him upstairs to his bedroom though, and closes the door behind her as he starts tearing up all of his drafts before shoving them into the trash can in the corner of his room. It’s not like anyone would try to read them, but just in case. He can’t risk it.

When he’s finished, Maddie is sitting on his bed watching him. Without saying a word she just pats the space next to her and glares at him until he sits down.

“Buck, tell me what’s going on,” she says.

Her hand is rubbing circles on Buck’s back and he bites his lip to stop himself from crying. He got to experience the best thing in his entire life with Eddie, and normally he shares everything with Maddie, but he’s just not sure that he can.

And he hates it because he should get to gush about this, about the pretty boy with chestnut eyes who made his heart sing. But Maddie is his whole world here in Hershey, and to lose her would mean losing everything.

“You can trust me,” she promises.

And Buck breaks.

“The letter, it was from Eddie.”

“The solider you met the other week?”

Buck nods and Maddie sighs as if she understands.

“You didn’t just swim when you went to the lake, did you?” She asks.

Buck shakes his head this time, and he can’t stop the tears from slipping down his cheeks. The admission is enormous and for a moment he’s so terrified that he can’t even move, but then Maddie’s arms wrap around his shoulders and she kisses his temple, whispering words of comfort into his ear.

Buck can’t believe it. Or, he can, really. Because this is exactly who Maddie is, kind to a fault and the most understanding person Buck has ever known. His shoulders feel a little lighter with her arms around them, knowing that she loves him despite it all.

“Evan, it’s okay,” she murmurs softly.

He can’t help but laugh. “Is it?”

He knows what she means, but still. Things are so far from okay. Because no one can ever know except her, and if they were to find out then Buck’s life would be over. And Eddie is so far away already, will be even further away soon enough, and Buck doesn’t even know if he’ll ever see him again.

It all just feels like too much, and for a fleeting second he wishes that he’d never met Eddie. It doesn’t last long though, because the memory of his smile and the way his hand felt in Buck’s is enough to chase that thought away. He could never regret Eddie, even if that day is all he’ll ever have with him. Even if his heart gets broken.

“We only spent a couple of hours together,” Buck says, sniffling. “But I just - god - Maddie he’s amazing.”

She smiles and brushes the tears off his cheeks.

“Does he feel the same way you do?”

Buck nods. “But they’re sending him to Vietnam, Mads. He might not come home.”

“You can’t think like that, Buck. You have to write to him, share who you are with him and give him a reason to fight to make it back to you.”

She says it like it’s easy, and maybe it is. Buck knew all along where Eddie was heading, but he made his choice anyway. He can’t control what happens out there, but he can write to him, he can make sure Eddie always knows that he has someone to come back to.

So he does. He stays up until 2am writing his reply, and then mails it the next morning when he’s on his way into work at the diner.

And that’s how it goes.

They write letters back and forth, and sometimes they take a while to arrive, but they always come. Buck learns about Eddie, about his family and his home town, his likes and dislikes, his hopes. And Buck shares his life with Eddie in return, he tells him about Maddie and his plans to go to college one day, about how he loves to read but hates math.

When he reads his letters under the cover of nightfall, it sometimes feels like Eddie is lay in bed beside him, or like they’re back in the clearing, lying on the grass underneath the sun. He can hear Eddie’s voice in his head as he reads, and he’d expected it to fade from his memory but it’s as clear as it was when he whispered it’s real as they said goodbye.

He gets back from the diner one evening and the letter is on his bed. The first lines make Buck’s heart sink right down to his toes.

And Buck knew it was coming, Eddie had been in California for almost two months so he was expecting him to be shipped out sometime soon. But this. It’s too soon, and it’s too frightening.

Buck is terrified, so he can’t imagine the fear that Eddie must be feeling. He’ll already be in Vietnam by now, there’s usually a delay of a week or so from when one of them sends a letter to the other receiving it.

He tries not to, but he instantly thinks that Eddie could already be dead. He would never even find out if he was - there would be no one to tell him, the letters would just stop. Buck feels like he’s suffocating.

He can’t even send Eddie a reply because he doesn’t have an address to send it to. At the end of Eddie’s letter he promises that he’ll write to Buck as soon as he arrives, but it will likely be weeks before Buck receives it and is able to send one back. It had been difficult when Eddie was in California, but now he’s an entire world away and it’s suddenly starting to feel impossible.

But then a letter arrives three weeks later, with a postal stamp marked Da Nang Air Base.

And the letters keep coming.

Sometimes there’s up to a month in between, and Buck feels his shoulders tense a little more with every day that passes by without one. But then they always arrive, and for a short time it feels like Eddie is back with him.

He writes:

He writes:

And Buck cries every time, sometimes so much that Maddie has to hold him close and read the letter out to him.

He writes back:

He never says the words I love you, and neither does Eddie. But the way they sign off the letters changes gradually, from yours to yours always to love. And Buck has to rewrite more than one letter when he accidentally writes those three sacred words.

He’s certain that Eddie feels it too, it’s written between the lines of every letter that he sends. But it feels like an unwritten rule. Like if they write it down in words then there’s no need for Eddie to fight to come home.

So he doesn’t write them, but he makes sure Eddie knows, makes certain that it’s clear in every single word that he puts down on paper. He loves Eddie. So much that his bones feel heavy with it.

The months pass, and life for Buck goes on. He works at the diner with Chim, Bobby, and Henrietta. All of his money is funnelled straight into his college fund. He writes to Eddie every two weeks so he always has letters arriving, even when there are delays.

But then one month without a letter turns into two, turns into three, and Buck starts to break.

It’s in the newspaper every day, about more US soldiers dying in the war that feels like it will never end. They only print the names of local men, so even if Eddie was among the dead, Buck wouldn’t know.

He tries. He keeps sending his letters and he tries to believe that Eddie is okay, that’s he still going to come back to Buck. But one evening, he just can’t do it anymore.

“Maddie?”

Buck knocks on her bedroom door and peers his head around it. She’s sitting in bed, her nose buried in a book, but when she hears his voice she looks up. Her eyes are sad, like they often are these days, whenever she looks at him. And he’s trying his hardest to hold it together, but he’s barely 19 and he’s in love. And he thinks that Eddie is dead.

“Oh Evan,” she sighs.

Buck begins to sob. He presses his closed fist to his mouth so his parents don’t hear him, and when Maddie pulls back the covers he slips into bed next to her. He hasn’t done it since he was a little boy, but he thinks he needs his big sister more now, than he ever did as a child.

Maddie holds him in her arms while he sobs. His heart is breaking, and it feels like the tears will never end. But eventually, what feels like hours later, he calms down enough to speak.

“He’s dead,” he says, and his voice is hoarse from all the crying.

“You don’t know that, Buck,” she tries to comfort him.

He shakes his head. “It’s been four months.”

She doesn’t reply after that. Buck knows she’s been thinking it for a while now, but she would never say it to him. And he appreciates that she’s trying to make him feel better, but hope feels pointless now, he’ll only be let down again.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispers.

She used to tell him that all the time, when their parents were fighting or when their dad was yelling at them. He always believed her, until today.

“I don’t know what to do,” he cries, sounding so young.

“You grieve, and then you keep going,” Maddie tells him.

So Buck grieves every night, alone in the safety of his bedroom. And then in the morning, he gets up and he keeps going. He moves through the day, goes to work, does his chores, but Buck feels like he’s only half alive. It’s like the other half of him, the part that knows love and joy and happiness, died in Vietnam with Eddie.

The worst part is, no one even knows. He’s mourning the greatest love he’ll ever have, and not even his parents get to know the truth. Everyone in his life notices, that he’s quieter, more withdrawn, but they don’t ask. And Buck is grateful for that, because he doesn’t know how he would even answer.

He thinks Chim might have figured it out, because he’s gentle with Buck when they work together. He doesn’t tease him like he used to, and he doesn’t even press for answers. It’s a quiet kind of comfort, like learning you have an ally in someone you had least expected.

He falls apart every night, and puts himself back together every morning. He keeps going.

Summer’s arrival shocks Buck. The months bleed into each other, each one indistinguishable from the last. Before he knows it it’s June, then July. August brings with it a sweltering heat that blankets the whole town in a suffocating humidity.

The heat isn’t the only thing August brings, though. At least, not for Buck.

It also comes with a heaviness in his chest, a whole body ache, deep in his bones.

It’s a year to the day since Eddie Diaz walked into the diner and changed Buck’s life. It’s like his heart knows, because Buck wakes up with tear-stained cheeks and a pillow that’s damp from where he’s cried in the night. It feels like he’s realising that he’s gone all over again. It feels like he’s dying.

There’s nowhere Buck can stand to be, everywhere feels like it is smothering him. So he takes sandwiches and two bottles of coca-cola, and he heads for the lake.

It’s exactly the same as it was a year ago. It’s the first time Buck has been back. He couldn’t bear it before, thinks he still can’t now. But Buck can feel Eddie here. He’s in the water, the grass, the flowers, the trees. He’s in the sun as it shines down on Buck, and somehow this is the only place where the heat doesn’t feel stifling. The only place where Buck can breathe.

He can’t bring himself to get in the water, but he sits in the same patch of grass that he had sat with Eddie. He takes off his shoes and lets his fingers and toes feel the grass between them, tilts his head up and closes his eyes as the morning sun warms his face.

Buck had expected to cry, but now that he’s here it’s like he can’t seem to. It’s impossible when it feels like Eddie is right here with him, all around him, in the air that he breathes.

“Buck.”

He freezes instantly. The voice comes from behind him, and he hasn’t heard it in exactly a year but it’s still achingly familiar. He can’t believe that it’s real. He turns around slowly, like if he looks then it won’t be true.

But his eyes fall on Eddie, and he doesn’t disappear like the ghost Buck is half convinced that he is.

Buck’s not sure how he makes it up off the ground, but one second he’s looking at Eddie and the next he’s wrapped up in his arms. He sobs into his shoulder, and he can feel Eddie’s tears falling onto his neck too.

He grasps at Eddie desperately, lets his hands wander over his neck, shoulders, arms, just to check. To make sure that he’s real, and that he’s here.

“I’m here. I’m here, Evan,” Eddie says, and the sound of Buck’s name in his mouth is heavenly.

He presses his face into Eddie’s neck, breathes him in just to be certain. He still smells the same way he had a year ago, and his hands still feel the same on his waist.

It feels like Buck is being resurrected, like his heart has started beating again after months of stillness.

“I thought you were dead.”

He sounds reverential as his hands cup Eddie’s face, as he looks into those chestnut eyes he thought he would never get to see again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Buck,” Eddie whispers. “I tried.”

He repeats it over and over as he kisses every inch of Buck’s face. Their breath and their tears mix together as their lips finally, finally meet again. It’s like Eddie is breathing life back into Buck and Buck can’t get enough. He clings to him, so afraid that if he lets go he’ll wake up and Eddie will still be gone.

“You’re here, you’re really here,” Buck murmurs against Eddie’s lips in disbelief.

“I’m here mi amor, I’m here. I’m so sorry,” Eddie says. “I fought to come back to you.”

And now it’s Eddie who’s holding Buck’s face in his hands, looking deep into his eyes as if he’s seeing Buck for the first time. The intensity of it is staggering, and Buck has to force himself not to look away.

He sees so much behind Eddies irises, happiness and relief and love. But he sees something darker too, like ghosts are lurking in the shadows. Buck has to remember that this man is different than the one who stood here with him a year ago. He’s seen things and he’s done things, and the war will have changed him.

“I love you,” Buck says.

Because it’s true. It has been, and it will be, always. And there’s nothing that can take that from them, not even war.

Eddie closes his eyes tightly but tears still slip free of them. Buck leans close and kisses them from his cheeks.

“I’m changed,” Eddie whispers.

“I know,” Buck replies.

“I left part of me in Vietnam.”

“I love you,” Buck repeats.

Because this man in front of him is still Eddie. He’s different now, but so is Buck. And Buck will love him anyway. Always. Unreservedly.

“I love you,” Eddie finally whispers.

And they are home.