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Grocery days were always Buck’s favorite. He loved the domesticity that came with walking the aisles next to Tommy. He loved picking out what they wanted to eat for the week. He loved arguing about what kind of pasta shape they should get — an argument he would always win. He loved making Tommy push the cart so he could occasionally come up behind him and wrap his arms around his waist. He loved the simplicity of it all.
Today, though, he was in a funk, happy to let Tommy take control and guide them through the store. The faster they could get through this, the better. All he wanted to do was go back home and snuggle up in bed with him.
He’s doing his best not to show it, but it all comes crashing down when Tommy stops them in the meat section, struggling to make a decision Buck knows nothing about yet.
“So I was thinking we could make Bobby’s chilli this week. And I know you get picky about meat sometimes, so…” Tommy holds up a pack of lean turkey and a pound of ground beef, “what’re you feeling?”
And Buck is so overwhelmed with the feeling in his chest that he starts to cry, tears blurring his vision.
Tommy must freak out, because Buck hears the sound of both packages hitting metal as they’re thrown into the cart. It’s only another moment before he feels Tommy’s hands on either side of his face.
“Sweetheart,” his voice is soft and laced with concern. “What’s wrong?“
Buck squeezes his eyes tight, making the tears fall so he can somewhat see. “Sorry, sorry. Just, uh,” he takes a deep breath in, "just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.” He looks at Tommy, trying to muster his best apologetic smile.
Tommy looks around, trying to determine what exactly it was that overwhelmed Buck. “Is there anything I can do to help?” His thumb is moving slowly over his cheekbone, causing Buck to lean into the touch.
“Just wanted to say that I love you. And that I’m so grateful for you.” Tommy moves back in close, placing a kiss on his forehead.
“And me asking you about chilli meat options brought this on?” Buck hopes that he’s joking, doesn’t ever want him to think that he could do something wrong. At least not when it comes to something so small like this.
“Yes.” He laughs at himself. “Well, no. I just can’t believe that I get to have this. Get to be with someone who’s so considerate and understands me so well. Buck 1.0 never could have imagined living like this. Buck 1.0 was such a mess and starved for affection. I just really can’t believe that you chose me and—“
Tommy cuts him off swiftly with a kiss. A perfect kiss, if Buck is being honest. One that he would gladly continue partaking in if they weren’t in the middle of the grocery store. He breaks away from Tommy and pulls him in for a hug. He needs Tommy’s body — his warmth — to stabilize him, still coming down from whatever it was that just overtook him.
After a moment, Buck pulls back enough to look Tommy in the eyes; really look at him. The bit of stubble that lines his jaw. The crinkles around his eyes. The slight-curl of his hair. Buck’s so in love with him.
He meant it when he said he had never imagined this for himself. He was such a lonely kid, and while he had been to therapy, he wasn’t sure that anyone would ever be able to truly love him for who he is. He knows he’s kind of manic. He knows he talks too much. He knows that he’s the physical embodiment of “a lot.” But Tommy has never once made him feel like that.
“You’re my everything, Tommy,” Buck says. He watches as it’s Tommy’s eyes’ turn to fill with tears.“You’re it for me.” He leans back in, peppering kisses all over Tommy’s face with the single goal of getting him to laugh.
And when he finally does, it’s music to Buck’s ears. He can’t help but laugh along with him, the tension leeching from his shoulders as soon as Tommy pulls him back into a hug, his hands moving up and down his back soothingly.
“You can’t say things like that to me in a grocery store, love,” he says softly, so Buck’s the only one who can hear him.
“Oh? And why not?”
“Because,” Tommy starts, “I don’t think that anyone in this store wants to watch me ugly-cry for the next three hours.” Buck laughs this time.
When they finally break apart, Tommy picking up the discarded meats and placing them back in their respective coolers, Buck notices a lady at the end of the aisle, eyeing them up. She’s got a small smile on her face which, in turn, brings a smile to Buck’s own. It’s good to know their happiness is infectious.
Tommy’s stood back in front of him, two new pieces of turkey and beef in his hands. “We still need to make a decision.”
Buck looks back and forth between each package before pointing to the beef. Tommy throws it in their basket and comes around to place a kiss on his cheek.
He hopes the rest of their lives are like this: endless happiness, filled with joy and love.
He thinks about each iteration of himself. The masks he would don in order to figure out who he was, what he needed.
It was all worth it, he realizes, standing there as Tommy heads off towards the dairy section. Every heartbreak, every fad, every new discovery. It all led him here.
He waves apologetically to the old lady and follows Tommy, his heart full and, for the first time in his life, complete.