Chapter Text
It’s unlikely that anyone in Evan Buckley’s life would’ve expected to see him in the role he found himself in.
His own high school experience hadn’t really been one of engagement or dedication. He’s pretty sure he ended up in the guidance office more than any of his classmates, and he certainly didn’t dedicate himself to his studies either. Still, the break from college, a year or so of travelling, and he’d been a little more sure of who he was and what he wanted to do with himself. Re-entering college at twenty to study wasn’t unusual, his sister encouraging him to do what felt right for him, and he left college with the qualifications he needed to enter a program to train teachers.
It makes him far more lenient with students, less harsh on telling them to figure out what they want to do with their lives, that they need to know by the time they finish their senior year, that everything hinges on their studies now.
It also means he doesn’t get along too well with some other teachers because of this.
Buck’s only in his second year at the school, treated very much like he is still a child himself (except around Maddie, ever since Mr Han tried to tease him, and she’d glared at him for a solid fifteen minutes), regularly not taken seriously if he suggests something. He’s taken to talking to Taylor about anything he wants to bring up, the pair of them got talking when he’d joined her in running the school newspaper, branching into an after school program that included online investigative classes and minor sleuthing for the kids interested in either reporting or going into police work.
“Do you think anyone would like the idea of a trip to Big Bear?” Taylor looks up from whatever she’s grading, waving him into the room distractedly before squinting at the things in front of him. Leaning on a desk, Buck waits for her to finish up, somewhat patiently, but he’s never been that good at patience in the long run.
“Okay, so, skipping the formalities of social norms and greeting one another like sane people,” Taylor likes to get on his case about starting a conversation in the middle, something he and Maddie do every time they run into each other on the school grounds, but he knows she’s only teasing, “why are you suggesting a trip to Big Bear?”
“They’re having a tree felling. So, once every few decades, in order to stop the growth expanding into the inhabited areas of the resort, they have a felling. It’s to stop the wildlife encroaching on the cabins and potentially moving into the parking structures to scavenge and risk unforeseen domestication of wildlife or poaching.” There are a lot of events near and around Los Angeles that Buck takes interest in. He’s goaded Taylor into talking to Professor Mehta about trimonthly trips to Santa Monica Pier so that the geography students could witness the tides and the changes in them due to moon progression.
“And… This is history related because…” Half of the time, Buck’s suggestions aren’t even limited to his own subject.
“Once every few decades.” The emphasis on that point makes Taylor roll her eyes. “The last one was in 1938, they didn’t foresee the upcoming war, of course, so they went ahead with the felling, they had planned another one for 1982, but there was a brush fire in the summer that depleted the nature reserve from the other side, and they opted not to trim back any more of the landscape until some of that area had healed and regrown.” Taylor’s pushing her fingers into her temples, which stops Buck from continuing. “Hey, what’s up?”
Usually, Taylor’s the most patient with him. Bobby in the home skills department tries, and Hen is probably the most enamored with his tangents of all the other teachers, but when she’s having a rough day he knows that she can’t deal with him at all. Taylor, although a very blunt, very caustic woman, finds him amusing. He knows because she’s told him as much.
“I’m sorry,” and she almost never apologizes, “Bosko is riding my ass about one of their athletes.” Due only to the frustration in her voice, Buck doesn’t bring up the fact that, typically, Taylor wouldn’t be complaining about Lena riding anything. It just doesn’t seem like the time right then.
“Academic eligibility an issue?” Buck knows about it largely from his own time in high school as a student; he’d never been a star athlete, his parents weren’t bothered enough with taking him to enough games for him to actually be considered invaluable, and no school was coming to see him maybe play football anyway. But he knew some of the other kids on the team relied on keeping their grades up to stay on the team.
“Yeah, and no harm, but the kid is a drain on my patience.” Some kids mean well, they try. Others are just a little too oblivious or obtuse to really grasp things. “I swear, he’s the sweetest kid, but he’s got a head full of air.” Taylor manages to laugh a little, “Only he’s the star wrestler, isn’t he, and he needs to get at least a B in my class to keep his eligibility. I’ve given him so many extra credit assignments, and he’s still just scraping a C+.” Winter break is fast approaching, which means the grades for the semester will be collated and if the kid can’t get himself to a B, he’s probably not wrestling next semester.
“What about after school tutoring?” Taylor huffs out a sigh, pushing her fingers through her hair, knocking her ponytail out of order. It spurns her to pull it out, carding her fingers through hair again to right it all.
“I don’t have the time to fit him in. I’ve already tried, there’s just no space with his schedule and mine.” One of the things that Buck loves about their school is the other faculty members. Most of them are completely prepared to go above and beyond for students, especially the ones who are really trying. Buck didn’t exactly want to end up in a school where teachers did their jobs and went home at the end of the day, content to put in the hours and then clock out until the following morning.
He’d been pleasantly surprised the first few mornings he’d come in early to set up and find that he wasn’t the only one.
“Well, I’m not utterly hopeless with English,” which is the truth, he and Taylor get along well enough that he’s covered her classes a few times when she’s had emergencies come up, he knows her syllabus pretty well too. “I can lend a hand.”
“Really? You’d be okay giving up one of your few nights off? I haven’t even told you who it is.” Buck shrugs lightly, not too concerned with the who. He has vague ideas on what students are on the wrestling team that might need help.
“So? You need help, a student needs help, Bosko is stressed.” It’s a no-brainer. He snaps his fingers at Taylor, a grin crossing his face, “Hey, you think if I help keep their star wrestler, Bosko will stop looking at me like she wants to crush my skull with her bicep?” Taylor laughs, that sharp one that’s pulled out of her, genuine enough that it doesn’t sound haughty and practiced.
“She does not look at you like that.” Buck mostly revels in the success of getting Taylor to relax a little, but doesn’t feel like giving ground on this one.
“Oh, she absolutely does. You’d notice it more if you weren’t making heart eyes at her.” A wad of paper is thrown at his head, Buck chuckling as he retrieves it from the floor.
“Fuck off, Buckley.” It’s empty, lacking heat, especially since Taylor has an ocean sized crush on the wrestling coach and has done since before Buck started at the school. “Anyway, you might change your mind when I tell you the student you’d be helping is Albert Han.” And yeah, okay, maybe he should’ve checked who he was going to be helping out.
“Albert Han, as in the younger-half-brother of Mr Han from this department who hates me for some reason? That Albert Han?” Taylor’s looking far too smug for someone who needs his help, but honestly, he understands why.
She always tells him he should get more details before he offers his unwavering support for things. He’s starting to think she might be right.
-x-
The thing is, Buck doesn’t know why Howard ‘don’t call me Howie’ Han hates him.
Mr Han has been at the school longer than most of the teachers; he was here when it was called something of a problem school, and Buck knows through Hen that Mr Han was part of that changing. Some older teachers have stories about how Han stood up to the bigoted former principal, how he rallied the other teachers behind Hen in support because everyone knew she was an out and proud lesbian and apparently that had been a bone of contention for the previous principal.
Buck doesn’t know the whole story, Hen’s never told him it, but Principal Gerrard was ousted as Han drummed up support and complaints were filed, then numerous temporary people stood in until the school board secured Athena Grant as the new principal, and it seemed like things really turned around from there.
So, on the whole, Howard Han sounds like a pretty cool guy. His students always seem to do well, the faculty agree he’s funny and charming, and Hen calls him her best friend, so he needs to be really cool for Hen to think of him as her best friend.
Yet, since Buck’s first few months at the school, Han was cold and standoffish towards him, routinely shutting him down if he tried to talk and eventually, Buck got the message. It took him a while to get to the stage of accepting sometimes people didn’t like him, but Maddie spent a good few months rebuilding him when toxic people used up his reserves.
He’s pretty sure he could keep a therapist in work for the rest of his natural life just covering the bullshit from his childhood, but he’s not that damaged yet.
Beyond Taylor, Buck doesn’t spend a lot of time in the English department anyway, and he’s long since stopped using the faculty room for anything beyond catching someone’s attention if he needs them—the coffee maker in there is terrible, he usually swings by Maddie’s office where her Hildy machine sits proudly, something he gets to use because he gifted it to her when she was given a permanent position as school nurse two years ago, the year before he joined the school.
It’s not that Buck doesn’t have friends at the school; Hen and Taylor, Bobby lets him hang around in his class and prattle on a lot, he’s friendly enough with Tommy up in chemistry too.
The thing is, if Buck hadn’t been so wrapped up in Abby and getting with her and then losing her, he’s pretty sure he would’ve tried harder to work out why Han dislikes him and maybe tried to fix it. So perhaps this is a chance; if Buck can help Albert pull up his grade, keep his eligibility, keep wrestling and potentially get his scholarship, maybe Mr Han will stop glaring at him in the hallways.
-x-
Taylor makes the pitch to Albert, and he goes for it, showing up at Buck’s classroom after school, shuffling in nervously. “Uh, Mr Buckley?” Buck’s engrossed in a lesson plan for next week, not realizing the time.
“Albert, hey, come on in.” Taylor’s already gone over the assignment she’s given Albert, and Buck’s pretty sure he can coax Albert through it easily enough, find the issues Albert’s struggling with and adapt them to the assignment. “Let’s get you through this, huh?”
Buck’s always had an easy-going nature; he’s made the effort to never make a student feel like he’s frustrated with them, even when it’s getting close. He remembers dealing with his parents and how they always made him feel like he was nothing but a bother, even when all he needed was a form signed. He doesn’t want to be one of those memories for a kid somewhere down the line.
Even though it takes the full hour that they have to explain through things, allowing Albert to ask every single question under the sun, they get to the point where Albert mostly understands the assignment and Buck is pretty sure he knows why Albert is struggling so much with things.
It’s another forty minutes before he’s leaving the school, calling Taylor as he’s exiting his class and taking the stairs to leave the building. “You owe me so much because I’m awesome.”
“Sure, Buckley,” Taylor chuckles down the line, even as Buck hears her turn off her television and move from wherever she was. “How did it go?”
“Has no one highlighted the fact that Albert’s first language is Korean?” Clearly, and Buck isn’t putting this on anyone, but Albert moving from his home country to live with his big brother was something most of the faculty knew about but never addressed. “His English is so good I doubt many people actually catch it, but the little English idioms we litter through things go completely over his head.” He’s great at proverbs, Buck’s found, but since he had to explain ‘on the ball’ to Albert unironically, he’s pretty sure the kid is confused more than he’s able to pay attention.
“God, that makes so much sense.” Taylor blows out a breath, little things probably making a whole lot more sense, “So he’s got a grasp on things, but loses some context with taking things too literal?”
“I think Korean culture mixed with the English language, which no offense to your excellent subject, is a shitshow at the best of times, he just gets lost sometimes.” Buck might not know enough about what Albert is balancing between his head, but given the last hour Buck spent with him, he’s pretty sure it’s a lot. “I am perfectly confident that we’ll have his grade up in no time, so you could feel free to pass that along to Coach Bosko, y’know, in passing, when you see her.” Buck makes a point of teasing, as he shoulders his way out of the building, waving to the groundskeeper as he leaves, circling the parking lot to get to his jeep.
“Fuck you, asshole. I’m hanging up now, you get no thanks.” She doesn’t hear Buck’s laughter, having hung up on him already. Sliding his phone into his pocket, Buck shuffles his backpack to his other shoulder, digging into his other pocket to find his car keys. He’s not entirely paying attention to surroundings, less so when his phone dings in his pocket and Buck, foolishly, shoves his hand in his pocket to fish for that, losing his balance on the uneven sidewalk and managing to trip over his own feet.
Eating dirt outside school, as a full-grown adult, is only moderately embarrassing. Sure, Buck at least did it when there was no one else around, but damn if that isn’t a little worse.
“Woah, hey,” or maybe there’s at least one other person around. “Are you okay?” He’s pretty sure that he is okay, even with the ache in his arms, finally free from his pockets, his head ringing and the world being a little blurry, it was just a fall, nothing spectacular.
“Yep, yeah, I’m good.” There’s a hand on his shoulder as Buck rights himself, sitting instead of trying to stand up right then, more than sure he’d vomit from how the world is spinning, or he’d just fall over again. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“I’d believe that if you’d open your eyes,” a warm hand cups his jaw, then there’s a light pressure against his forehead and Buck can’t help but flinch at the sharp sting. “And if you weren’t bleeding.”
“Wait, what?” His eyes open, then slam shut instantly because fuck , of course it’s Coach Diaz that got to witness his majestic inability to put one foot in front of the other for three hundred yards. “Okay, less fine than previously believed.” It didn’t help that even the slowly fading California sun was hell on his eyes right then.
“Okay, try again for me?” Diaz is exceptionally close, as Buck slowly pries his eyes open, noting that Diaz is shielding the sunlight with his hand. “Your pupils seem reactive, not too unfocused,” oh, right, concussion check. “How’s your head?”
“Bit sore,” Buck at least has the sense to answer honestly, since Maddie would kill him if he lied, and he’s pretty sure she’s mentioned that Diaz is mostly medically trained. It makes sense, given he’s the football and boxing coach, two sports that probably see the most injuries at the school. “I don’t think I’m concussed.”
“You got a medical degree I should know about?” There should be a law against how nice Diaz sounds, while Buck’s wishing the ground would just open up around him and swallow him.
“No, just… A colorful history of head injuries.” Maddie complained that he was going to kill off all his brain cells before he qualified to teach, joke was on her, since he clearly hadn’t needed them anyway. “At this point, I think I’d say I’m a connoisseur of concussions.” He’s an idiot, and squinting at Diaz, it’s clear that he’s not the only one who thinks so.
“That’s downright horrifying.” Buck is aware they’re on the sidewalk; he’s almost sprawled, sitting on the cold ground, Diaz is squatting down, shielding him from the sun and carefully handling his face. It’s vaguely intimate, even if Buck’s aware of the blood trailing down his forehead. “How’s your sight? Everything clear?” Thankfully, Buck has the presence of mind to not tell this man that he’s never seen anything better.
“Um, yeah, I mean besides the sunlight killing me, no blurry vision or double sight,” although when he shakes his head that causes a lance of pain through his skull that Buck can’t help but wince from. “Movement sucks, apparently.”
“Okay, let’s get you up and inside, we can call for—” Diaz is going to suggest calling for paramedics, Buck’s sure, but Buck would hate to be stuck here waiting and then in the hospital all to be told he’s got a concussion, and he needs to rest.
“No, really, it’s fine. I just—I can go to Maddie’s place.” He’s not sure if she had plans or not, but Buck remembers the last time he was injured and didn’t tell her—it had only been a sprained wrist, but she’d been annoyed that he didn’t let her fuss at him.
“You are not driving anywhere,” Diaz refutes, and Buck has an argument on his tongue, prepared to make his case, even if he should likely get an Uber or Lyft. “C’mon, you can direct me to your sister's place.” By the time Buck is able to think straight, to process what Diaz just said, he’s on his feet, leaning into a wall of muscle and heat, derailed again from remembering what was just said.
“Wait, what?” It finally computes when he’s in a truck, not his jeep, and Diaz is leaning over him to fasten his seatbelt. He definitely has a concussion; there’s no other explanation for his brain stopping and starting like this, none. He’s an adult, a grown man, experienced in many fields, there’s no reason one person, one very attractive, kind and helpful, well-built person, should be shorting out his processing like this.
And sure, Buck’s seen Diaz around the school; he’s very involved in the sports programs, but he’s a good mentor too, he encourages a lot of the athletes not to get too wrapped up in just sport, to round themselves out. He’s insanely supportive for the few kids that have some ability accessibility requirements. Buck has it on good authority from Hen that Diaz was the reason all entrances and exits to the building had wider doors and ramps, rather than just the front and back.
So, he’s heard enough about Eddie Diaz to know he’s not just a hot gym jock; he’s clearly also thoughtful, kind and compassionate. Buck’s pretty sure he’s heard something about a son, there’s no wedding ring, but that doesn’t exactly negate the chance of a kid, or a significant other, but Buck’s also pretty sure he’s never seen Diaz with a partner during any of the fundraisers—which was where Buck had met Karen, Hen’s literal rocket scientist of a wife, with whom he’d instantly fallen in love with and sat listening to for almost an hour, much to Hen’s amusement.
“Hey, c’mon, Buckley, I need you to direct me to Maddie’s place.” Oh, so at least Eddie—Coach Diaz—Diaz knows his name. That’s less awkward than if Diaz thought he was just an idiot who couldn’t walk. Even though that’s a little close to the truth sometimes.
He manages to pay attention to the streets, focusing on a single point on the windshield to avoid the need to throw up. As they pull into Maddie’s apartment complex, her little blue Toyota parked in its spot, Buck silently rejoices. He absolutely needs to vomit, and he really doesn’t want to do it in front of Diaz.
The help out the car and along to Maddie’s door is much needed, Buck leaning heavily against the door frame to avoid leaning on Diaz as he knocks on his sister’s door and hopes she answers. It takes longer than he’d assume; he’s so close to letting Eddie take him to urgent care when the door finally opens and Maddie takes a moment to take in what’s in front of her.
“Is it okay if he explains while I go barf in your bathroom?” He doesn’t actually wait for a response, doesn’t even thank Diaz, as he pushes off the door frame and shuffles into Maddie’s bathroom to expel his lunch and hope it was just the car ride and not the concussion that did it.
“Hey,” Maddie’s voice is soft as she enters, a cool wash cloth being gently placed along the back of his neck, “I brought you some water, take slow sips,” he follows her instructions while leaning on the wall, letting Maddie inspect his head. “Okay, you think you can make it to the sofa? I want to get you sitting down, I’ll put some paper stitches on that, make some soup for us, and we’ll watch Blue Planet, yeah?” Her voice is slow, calm and even the entire time she speaks, a hand rubbing gently on his back as she waits for him to slowly nod his aching head.
Later, on the sofa, Buck feels the ache finally ebbing away. There’s food in him, Maddie’s dressed the few wounds, he’s got painkillers and is in some comfortable clothes he’d left at her place when he’d been staying with her. She’s already told him he’s spending the night with her, Buck’s rarely won an argument with Maddie when he’s in good spirits, so he doesn’t argue when he’s hurt.
“I know that,” he’d drifted off at some point, coming to curled up on the sofa, a fluffy blanket wrapped around him, head pillowed on one of Maddie’s little animal cushions. It’s dark, the television is off and Maddie is pacing behind him, talking to someone, “I didn’t see this happening, okay. I know we’d made plans but—” he’s interrupted something, and that instantly makes him feel bad, “Howard, my brother did not plan to get a concussion to cock block you.” There’s a terse edge to Maddie’s tone, something that tells him this is moderately frequent.
Then the shock clears and Buck processes what’s just been said.
Maddie had a date planned. An at home date, which usually means an overnight date. With Howard. Who has to be Mr Han, but—
“Howie, he doesn’t even know we’re seeing each other,” which Maddie is correct about, he hadn’t even known they were friends, beyond working in the same school. It’s not like Buck is friendly with many of the teachers outside of school, he hadn’t realized that Maddie was maybe even thinking of dating again. Even though it’s been a few years since the nightmare that was her divorce. “You know, paranoia isn’t sexy. My brother is not coming up with elaborate ways to stop you and I seeing each other, he’s just… He’s lonely, and I haven’t told him I’m seeing anyone, so he doesn’t think he needs to call ahead.”
It’s starting to make sense why Mr Han might dislike him now, if he’s taking up time with Maddie that Han intends to spend with her. Of course, he does reason, if either of them had simply told him that they wanted to go out or spend time together, he would’ve understood.
Yes, he’s been a little lonely while figuring out LA, but that doesn’t mean Maddie can’t be honest with him. Maddie slips off down the hall towards her bedroom, Buck opting to not wonder why while he burrows deeper into the blanket wrapped around him.
If he’d known that Maddie had plans, he wouldn’t show up on her doorstep all the time, or invite her out when he thinks she’s free or whatever else he’s apparently been doing to stop Han and Maddie meeting up. And he does think he could be petty, keep showing up, actively try to cock block until someone decides to be an adult and tell him that they’re seeing each other but—
But he doesn’t want to cause his sister stress; she’s been so good to him, taking him in when he moved across the country, helping him get settled, and he knows that she put a good word in for him when he applied at her school. He’d applied to a dozen schools in the area, he got maybe three offers, but the offer from Principal Grant was by far the best and probably unfair to anyone else who would’ve been coming in at his level.
So he needs to stop showing up on his sister’s doorstep and hope she eventually trusts him enough to tell him that she’s seeing someone.
Maybe he should get a new hobby.
-x-
Maddie tries to get him to take the next day off. But he’s not finished all his lesson plans and doesn’t have anyone prepared to cover his classes, so he goes in, promises to check in with her at lunch, and proceeds to pull every blind in his room so that it’s at least a little bit darker.
“I heard you looked like a zombie movie extra,” Taylor appears at his door shortly before first class, bringing him a hot tea and a semi-sympathetic look. “What the hell happened?”
“I happened.” Buck and Taylor had gone out on one date when they’d first started talking, it’d gone well, they enjoyed themselves, they had sex, but they knew it wasn’t more than that. They made far better friends. It does mean they’ve gone out a few other times, and Taylor has first-hand knowledge of the disasters that Buck attracts. “After we hung up, I fell over my feet in the car park.” She winces at him, fingers trailing around his forehead where Maddie’s sealed up his cut.
“Emergency room?” Most nurses at the hospital nearest to his apartment know him by name now.
“No, um, Coach Diaz happened to see it, he drove me to Maddie’s, she patched me up.” He’s still feeling a little off center, his head hurts, and he’s very sensitive to the light, but he doesn’t want to call off for a bumped head. “I’m fine, I have to take it easy, though.”
“God, you’re a walking disaster.” Which is the truth of the matter.
“Hey, um, question for you,” he’s been debating asking anyone about this most of the morning; he could ask Hen, she’s Han’s best friend, but she’s Han’s best friend, so if Buck’s asking questions about him, there’s a chance Hen will tell Howard. Bobby might have some insight, but there’s also the chance that he talks about things with his wife, and Buck does not want Principal Grant to think he’s starting some kind of trouble.
So Taylor is a safe bet; she’s friendly enough with most of the faculty, in that superficial way that comes with being nosy and feeding off gossip. If he wants to know about other teachers, it’s Taylor he talks to.
“What’s up?” He’s not sure if they have the time to get into this, but Taylor sits herself on the edge of his desk, Buck rocking a little in his chair before figuring blurting works better than trying to stage a sentence in his head.
“Did you know Han is trying to date my sister?” The way Taylor twists her mouth is confirmation that she did know, it’s one of Taylor’s few tells and something he picked up very quickly, “You never said anything, how come?” He likes to think he’s rational, an evolved human in a way; his sister is bright and caring, she’s strong and independent. Yes, she’s been burned, but she’s smarter and stronger and more sure of herself than when she was nineteen and looking for acceptance and love in the wrong places. Buck knows what that’s like.
It’s not like he’s chased off anyone who tried to date her in the few years since her divorce, it’s not even like he’s been rude or overprotective. She went out with a spin instructor a few months after things were finalized, and Buck had been nothing but supportive of her getting back on the horse.
“I kinda felt like it might be your sister’s place to tell you?” Taylor shrugs a shoulder, “I also kind of thought you knew. It’s all the gossip in the halls.” Which means all the other teachers probably do know.
“I don’t listen to teacher gossip,” which is true, anything he finds out it’s usually from Taylor or Hen. Since Bobby doesn’t gossip. “I listen to you, so if you don’t tell me something, I don’t know it.”
“Oh, then you should absolutely know that Tracy, in admin, she’s got a crush on you. Han is trying to date your sister, Bobby and Athena are coming up on their three-year anniversary, and he’s panicking a little about gift ideas. Flores is shooting her shot for Coach Diaz, and I’m about to get into a real fist fight with Donato if she keeps flirting with Bosko in front of me.” Taylor imitates a mic drop, leaving Buck to process it all as the first warning bell rings, slicing through his skull like a heated blade. “You’re gonna need to work on not flinching at the bell, especially if you want people to believe you’re fine.”
Shuffling off his desk, Taylor places a gentle kiss to his stitched head before starting for the door.
“Hey, Tay. If you ask Bosko out, she’ll say yeah.” If Lucy is serious, Taylor might lose her shit, but if Lucy is simply winding Taylor up, she’ll probably also lose her shit. “She’s into you, and that’s not mere speculation on my part.” Taylor pauses at the door, stepping to the side to let some of his students into the class.
“Noted, Buckley.” He gets a smile from her, just as May and Ravi are sitting down, throwing questioning looks at him.
“I lost a fight with the ground, apparently gravity cannot be thwarted.” It gets him snorts of laughter, appeasing Buck’s wounded pride. It’s better if he focuses on that rather than the brand-new information taking up space in his brain.
He should definitely be more focused on Maddie and Howard, on the fact that everyone but him knew they were trying to start seeing each other. Instead, all he can process is Ana Flores and Eddie Diaz and why that’s leaving a sour turn in his belly.
-x-
He’s in no way shocked when Maddie finds him between classes, bringing him some water, ibuprofen and a snack. She’s checking over his stitches as someone knocks at his door, Buck’s a little shocked to see Coach Diaz standing there, but Maddie throws him a smile before she’s patting his cheek and heading out.
“Hey, I kind of thought you’d at least take a day off.” Eddie sits against one of the desks at the front of the class, Buck doing his best not to notice the way his tracksuit bottoms tug over his thighs, the flex of fabric over straining muscles.
“Oh, well, I’d basically be lying on Maddie’s couch being pathetic,” probably not what anyone needs to know, “so I might as well be here instead. Slightly less pathetic.” This way he’s not sleeping all day, his students don’t fall behind, and no one else is stressed out trying to make up his class. “I don’t remember if I thanked you, I’m sure driving me across town wasn’t what you wanted to do on a Thursday night, so um, thanks.” Buck thinks, in his haste to get away from Diaz to eject his stomach contents, he might’ve been a bit rude or dismissive about the help that he’d received.
“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie shakes his head, hand waving off Buck’s gratitude before he crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps bulged under his t-shirt. “You’re feeling better, though?” It doesn’t look like Diaz is in any rush to leave, and Buck has a free period right now anyway, so why not kill time with some conversation?
“Oh, well, mostly, yeah.” There’s no point in lying about the headache, since it comes on almost constantly. “Head still hurts, haven’t puked since last night,” why does he keep bringing up this stuff, “but my vision is mostly normal again and Maddie isn’t coddling me, so I take that as a win.” Maddie’s possibly the only person who has ever tried to take care of him, so he knows, roughly, when it’s serious or when she’s sure he’ll be okay but wants to hover anyway.
“Sounds like you’re on your way to full health,” Diaz grins, not at all perturbed by Buck’s habit of sharing too much. “This mean we’ll see you at tomorrow's fundraiser?” It feels like a loaded question, and there’s a slight edge to Diaz’s tone that sounds relatively hopeful.
“Remind me what that is again?” Buck rarely attends the outside events; he comes to the science fairs, drops in on the baking events because Bobby ropes him into helping, he’s been there for every newspaper showcase, but the fundraisers are awkward. He typically foists money onto Taylor or Maddie and tells them to pick something to donate it to, or he’ll talk to an organizing teacher ahead of time to give whatever he’s got to support things. But he doesn’t attend.
He did it once, still within his first six months at the school, and it felt a hell of a lot like when he’d been in high school himself. There are cliques within the staff, and that’s fair; they have their own interests, their own social groups, their own friends. It’s natural to gravitate towards people who have traits in common.
Buck hasn’t actually found anyone he has a lot in common with at the school. Sure, he could loiter around Bobby, but Bobby’s wife is the principal and Buck’s trying to stay off her radar in case she realizes she’s made a horrible mistake and fires him mid-year. Taylor’s too social, she flits in and around everyone, picking up gossip and small talk as she goes, and he can’t be that sad little loner who still clings to his big sister, even in his late-twenties.
He’s probably the most introverted extrovert around.
“The sports hall fundraiser. We’re raising money to replace the flooring in the gym,” Eddie laughs lightly, a soft chuckle that doesn’t sound like it’s at Buck’s expense at all. “It’d be cool if you came,” a beep sounded from Diaz’s watch, the older man looking down with a frown. “I gotta go, I’m glad you’re doing better, I hope I see you tomorrow.” And then he’s disappearing out of the classroom and Buck’s left wondering if that was an invite, or an invite?
Shit, he’s bad at figuring these things out.
-x-
He ruminates on it all night. It’s bordering on obsessive.
He made sure to tell Maddie early on that he was going home to have dinner and sleep, that his head is doing fine, but he’s mostly tired, so he’d have an early night. It should be enough time that she and Han can rearrange the date he interrupted so that everyone is in a better mood on Monday. Even if he refuses to think about why they might be in a better mood.
Checking the school website had given him all the information about the fundraiser that’s happening on Saturday. It starts at one in the afternoon, so Buck doesn’t need to get up early on his day off. There will be stalls with home baking, courtesy of Bobby and the mom’s from the wrestling team, apparently. At three that day, students will be allowed to pay for the privilege to pelt their coaches with water balloons, and Buck thinks they’re really angling to get the seniors to pay for this flooring.
The thing is, and this is what’s keeping Buck awake, is that he’s not sure if Coach Diaz—Eddie, if he was inviting Buck to come along because he wanted Buck to come along, or if it was just a standard, see you there kind of thing. Presumably, most teachers supported the events, so it was possibly a given for Eddie that Buck would go. Or maybe Eddie knows that Buck doesn’t go to the events, and he’s extending the invite to try and get him to lend support to the flooring.
Or, and this is a really long shot in Buck’s opinion, maybe Eddie was inviting him there in a semi-awkward ‘I want to see you outside work’ but not quite kind of way.
It seems like half the teachers are trying to date other teachers, so it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility, but then it’s not really like he knows that much about Diaz to work out if he’d even contemplate asking someone like Buck out.
He is the same guy who accidentally caused a rat over population in the biology department by over feeding the horny little fucks and not realizing they needed to stay separate like any other human being with common sense would know. Bobby most certainly talked Athena down when the rat litters were born, and Buck had to admit that he might’ve mixed up the rats because he didn’t want them to be lonely over the weekend. How did he know that the lone male was going to impregnate four females?
He’s never been asked to look after live specimens ever again. Which is probably fair.
So there he is, long after midnight, still lying in bed wondering what the hell Eddie meant when he asked Buck to attend the fundraiser. He falls asleep still unsure, wakes up and hasn’t figured it out, the answer doesn’t come in the shower, or when he’s baking brownies quickly, or when he’s figuring out what to wear to school when he’s not actually going to teach.
He eventually decides on casual but smart, a pair of fairly dress jeans and a clean shirt with a plain t-shirt under it. There’s no point in getting there while all the parents are arriving, it’d be a murderous attempt to navigate the grounds. Even if it does mean he’s got more time to sit with his thoughts and talk himself into and out of attending. So, it’s a little before two when he gets there in the end, weaving through the throngs of people, noticing a few science stalls where kids can blow up volcanoes.
Tracking down Bobby isn’t difficult, all he really has to do is follow his nose. Every time they do an event, Bobby outdoes himself on the food. There’s savory and sweet, some hot food and plenty of finger food.
“Hey, kid, I did not expect to see you.” As evidenced by this not being a baking event and Buck not even knowing about it in advance.
“I brought something, to contribute.” Buck opts to ignore the unspoken fact that he’s here, without coercion as far as anyone else knows, and hands over the tupperware he brought for Bobby. “It’s your recipe, but more the merrier?” Until he started at the school, Buck didn’t know how to cook, it took Bobby six months to hone in on that and teach Buck a few simple rules so that he could make himself food when he wasn’t working.
Thankfully, Bobby opts to go with Buck’s ignoring of his presence. Unfortunately, Bobby does not ignore Buck’s still healing head.
“That’s quite the bump you took.” The careful way Bobby tilts Buck’s head is so reminiscent of how other parents check over their kids; but while Bobby is old enough to be Buck’s father, he is in fact not Buck’s father.
“Yeah, but it’s okay,” he’s as cautious as he can be stepping out of Bobby’s hold, mindful of the man’s feelings as much as he is his own desire to lean into it all. Bobby’s fatherly advice and attention has been something he struggles with accepting; on the one hand, he desperately craves it, on the other, he’s adamant that he shouldn’t. “Maddie patched me up, the headache is mostly gone now.” It’s not even a lie.
He sticks behind Bobby as a few kids come up to show their parents the awesome stuff Mr Nash makes, and some moms ask for tips on how to get their kids into the kitchen to learn something. It gives him the chance to look around without being too obvious.
Taylor’s red hair catches his eye, she’s flitting between Tommy and Hen, whispering something, but Buck can’t tell what’s gotten her excited. Bosko and Donato are near each other, but the body language isn’t all that open, and Buck’s a little curious if something happened there. Bosko’s scary, sure, but she’s usually fairly friendly, and Lucy is almost too friendly at times. Buck’s certain she likes to push buttons. She’s a temp at the school, so it’s not like she has to worry too much about being well liked. Buck’s pretty sure she’s not going to be with them next year, since Myers, who she’s covering for, will likely be off maternity leave after the break.
Maddie’s laugh catches his attention, eyes flitting over the gym until he finds her. She’s standing with Han, his arm around her shoulders, not in a weird possessive way, just looped there to keep them in contact. He’ll admit they look good together; Han is saying something, fully animated and Maddie’s laughing along with him, bright and loose, she’s enjoying herself. He never saw her like that when she was married to Doug, even lately, she’s been lighter, sure. But this is happiness on his sister, bright and untempered.
They’re speaking to Coach Diaz and Ms Flores, a light laughter among the group from whatever Han is talking about. Then Ms Flores rests her hand on Diaz’s chest, sliding it up to his shoulder and almost perching her head there. Diaz looks towards her, away from where Buck can see, but there’s no obvious change in Ana’s demeanor, and Buck is suddenly hit with why he’d felt so weird hearing that Flores was shooting her shot for Diaz.
He always did get weird around people when he had a crush.
The need to not be there outweighs his desire to not be odd, so Buck says goodbye to Bobby, assures him that he was only stopping into drop something off anyway, and quickly makes a hasty exit, hoping no one else saw him.
It’s not like they expect him to show up to these things anyway. His socializing isn’t the best; he talks too much, about things people don’t care about, sometimes things people shouldn’t talk about. Then there’s all the crowding and the noise, he’d rather not bring people’s moods down when he needs a break. For someone who craves company, he does very badly when he has it. Unless it’s only one or two people, Buck struggles with matching everyone’s energy.
He’s crossing the parking area when he spots a kid, too young to be a student, sitting on a bench swinging his feet back and forth. One shoelace is untied, hanging loosely, and the boy has a set of crutches.
“Hey little man, looks like your shoe is trying to escape,” the boy looks up, squinting from behind his bright red glasses, grinning at Buck with a crooked smile and a big gap where one of his teeth is still growing through. “You want me to fasten that down?” He gets a nod in response, so Buck hunkers down, bending the kid's knee, so his foot sits on Buck’s thigh and ties his lace tight enough that it won’t come loose again, but that a parent will be able to untie it.
“Thanks,” it’s a soft whisper, the boy hardly raising his voice. “I’m waiting for my bisabuela,” the kid points to an older woman, she’s standing talking to another woman, close enough to hear the Spanish, but not make it out. “I’m Christopher.”
“Well, you mind if I hang out? I’m Buck.” He gets permission to sit beside Chris on the bench. “You here to go to the fundraiser?” Chris nods, it makes sense. He might have an older brother or sister at the school. Oddly, it’s pretty easy to sit and chat with Chris.
They start on dinosaurs, Chris naming the ones on his t-shirt, Buck admitting that his favorite movie was Land Before Time, and he always thought the long-necks were the coolest. Chris is the one who brings up space, telling Buck about all the planets, about stars, about the sun. It’s endearing, how excited Chris is about sharing his knowledge, Buck happily letting the boy tell him all the facts he has.
“Christopher,” the familiar voice from across the way draws both their attention, cutting off Chris’ fact about no other planet being able to sustain fire. “Mijo, what are you doing?” Coach Diaz is halted a little bit away from them, Chris’ bisabuela hushing him with a rush of Spanish that Buck doesn’t even try to keep up with.
Chris wiggles forward on the bench, Buck watching him take his time to steady himself. His feet don’t quite make it to the ground, and Buck leans forward.
“Can I give you a little help?” Buck asks, waiting for Chris to nod and Buck leans around Chris to give in a tiny boost, watching him get his feet under him, bracing his elbow as he fixes his crutches, and then he takes the time to let Chris find his stability for a few steps.
“Thanks, Buck.” Chris chimes cheerfully, as he’s making his way towards Coach Diaz, who is evidently Christopher’s father, whom Chris is here to see. Obviously.
“Yeah, thanks Buck.” Eddie glances up at him, a smile on his face, and Buck is instantly hit with how damn attractive he is. “You two making friends?” Chris makes it to Eddie’s side, leaning into his dad’s side and Eddie’s hand dropping to Chris’ back. It’s so nurturing, the way they curve towards each other, how comfortable they are with each other. There’s a hurt in his heart just as much as he feels awed seeing it, how Chris beams up at his dad, how young Eddie looks gazing down at his son. “You coming in?” Eddie asks him, nodding his head back towards the school, and Buck takes a minute before shaking his head.
“I just dropped something off with Bobby,” he’s about to shove his hands in his pockets, let his shoulders hunch up, before he remembers that he fell the last time he did that. “I’m kind of not feeling like a crowd is a good place for me right now, anyway.” And he doesn’t want to disappoint Maddie by being in there, so she can’t hang all over the boyfriend she’s pretending not to have. “Make sure and hit your dad with a balloon, yeah?” Chris giggles, but nods his head in agreement, starting to tug Eddie towards the school. “Have fun.”
There’s an abortive move from Eddie before Buck’s heading towards his jeep, feeling a little like an idiot, but figuring that’s nothing new. If he spends the rest of the weekend watching documentaries on space and the universe, that’s his business.
-x-