Archive of Our Own

Eddie Diaz is currently stuck inside his very own personal hell. 

Maybe he’s exaggerating slightly, but he’s not too far off.

His very own personal hell, where he’s been stuck inside a car with Buck for the past eight hours. 

They had stopped briefly for lunch and a bathroom break, and again a couple of hours later, when Buck had pointed out the beautiful sunset. Eddie had intuitively understood from the excitement in Buck’s voice that he would probably love to get a picture. Buck had sent it to Chris in their group chat, reassuring him that they hadn’t been mauled by coyotes – yet. Eddie hadn’t really been worried about the possibility until Buck had brought it up. He’d kept his eyes peeled as Buck had pulled him in for a selfie, his easy, care-free smile brighter than the sun disappearing behind the hills. 

They haven’t left the car since, Eddie’s body growing more and more restless with every mile marker they pass. According to the GPS, they’ve got another hour of suffering to go. 

They ran out of useful things to talk about approximately four hours ago. Buck’s made it his personal mission to fill up every beat of silence since then, switching between super fun facts about the desert and how dangerous it is, and singing along off-key to the radio when one of the songs he picked for the road trip playlist comes on. Eddie hadn’t had many opinions on the soundtrack for their drive, happy to go along with what Buck wanted to listen to, until he’d taken one look at the playlist Buck had finished curating. Despite finding it endlessly endearing that half of the playlist was eighties power ballads and ABBA songs Buck could sing along to – loudly, he had swapped out a couple of them for songs released in this century. Buck had snorted when he’d noticed and called Eddie a music snob.

There is something Eddie could say to make the hours go by faster. Something that would probably keep them talking well into the night, if he was feeling up to unpicking the thread that’s been barely holding him together. It’s been stuck on the tip of his tongue for months, like a little piece of fluff he can’t pick off or swallow back down, but it’s never made it past his lips. Not that he hasn’t tried to get the words out, but he backs out every single time, scared that once he reveals one thing, all of the other things he’s hiding will come toppling down like dominoes. 

He’s gay. That’s a thing he wouldn’t mind sharing with Buck. There’s no doubt in his mind Buck would be happy for him, happy he’s figured it out – finally. 

No, it’s the cesspool of other truths he’s learned about himself along the way he can’t risk exposing. He’s been successfully keeping a lid on that for months now; there's no need to open it up for scrutiny. He will deal with the very unfortunate fact that he’s in love with his best friend by ignoring it until it goes away. 

‘There’s this guy who was fixing a water leak, and a cactus fell on him,’ Buck brings his phone up closer to his face as he reads out the next story on the list of freak desert accidents he’s been making his way through to keep them entertained, ‘They had to remove a hundred and fifty cactus spines out of his body. That’s gotta hurt.’ 

Eddie winces in sympathy, locking back into the conversation, ‘That’s rough.’ 

‘Would you remove a hundred and fifty cactus spines from my body, Eddie?’ 

Eddie pretends to consider it, knowing he’d painstakingly remove a million cactus spines from Buck’s body if he needed to, but he banishes that thought back to the box in the dark corner on the outskirts of his mind labeled stop being fucking obsessed with your best friend, he’s gonna fucking notice. ‘I would try, Buck, but I feel like a medical professional would be your best bet in this case.’ 

‘Hey, do you remember that scene in The Lion King where the hyenas fall into a bunch of cacti?

Eddie barks out a laugh, following Buck’s train of thought. ‘I’m not pulling cactus spines out of your ass, that’s where I draw the line.’ 

‘Some paramedic you are,’ Buck says, scoffing, but there’s no sting to his words at all. 

Eddie squints as a car passes them on the other lane. The lights are way too bright all of a sudden, breaking through the vast, near-endless darkness they’ve been driving through the past couple of hours. The number of cars slowly dwindled down as they drove deeper into New Mexico, the desert growing colder and more all-encompassing around them as stars broke through the dark-blue fabric of the sky above. 

Buck locks his phone, putting it down into the last free cup holder. The other ones still hold their old coffee cups, the ice long-melted, a puddle of watery coffee pooling at the bottom, sloshing around in time with Eddie’s driving.  

‘Thanks again for doing this.’ 

Eddie barely catches Buck’s hushed gratitude over the sound of the engine. 

He shrugs it off again, ‘I don’t mind.’ 

It’s so close to the truth it nearly passes for it. Eddie never minds spending time with Buck. His brain had just jumped so fast at the chance to do something nice for Buck, he’d never even stopped to consider the consequences of being stuck inside a car with him, with no distractions, for almost thirty hours. Twice. 

‘I would’ve taken a plane if we had to, you know?’ 

‘Now you tell me?’ Eddie jokes, ‘You could’ve mentioned it before we decided to drive halfway across the country twice.’ 

Buck shrugs, ‘You would’ve missed out on my beautiful singing voice, Eddie.’ 

‘Oh, I’m well aware of how beautiful your singing voice is.’ 

Buck ignores the jab. ‘And we made such life-changing memories along the way,’ he presses on, ‘Remember back in Oklahoma when we saw that raccoon steal a burrito from a rat?’ 

‘Priceless,’ Eddie deadpans, ‘Worth every hour of this drive.’

‘I do appreciate it,’ Buck says, his tone suddenly serious again. 

Eddie sneaks a sideways glance to his right, catching Buck’s eye for a second, then nods slowly, tucking the I would drive halfway across the world for you if you asked bouncing around his brain right next to his earlier offense in the bad thoughts box. 

Buck juts his chin out at the wheel. ‘I can take over, if you want.’ 

‘I’m good.’ 

‘You sure? Is your ankle okay?’ 

There’s still a slight pinching pain right above his left foot, but in his expert opinion, it’s nothing to worry about. Most of the hurt already got smoothed out when he and Buck ended up winning the firefighter competition, wiping the smug grin off the face of the guy who’d pushed him down the stairs. And if he’s breaking his own rules anyway, he’ll admit that the wide grin on Buck’s face, the sparkle in his eyes as he lifted the trophy that’s currently safely tucked away inside Eddie’s trunk, had also sped up his recovery. 

It’s his third strike in mere minutes. Eddie chastises himself inwardly, holding down the flaps of the bad thoughts box, keeping them all crammed inside even though it’s filled to the brim after hours and hours alone with Buck and barely anything to distract him from how Buck’s shorts keep riding up his thighs as he bounces his left leg up and down absentmindedly. 

Eddie shakes his head, waving Buck’s concern away as he adds another strike to his mental tally, ‘It’s not worse than when you asked me twenty minutes ago.’

Buck nods, seemingly satisfied with Eddie’s answer – or satisfied enough to leave it alone for another twenty minutes, and quiets down again, eyes cast towards the endless stretch of road in front of them. Eddie shifts in his seat, taking some pressure away from his injured leg, which has decided to remind him he’s still in some pain now that Buck’s mentioned it. 

‘Anyway, I bet you’re excited to get home again.’ 

Eddie frowns at Buck’s words, feeling like he’s missed half a conversation. He’s used to Buck’s ability to keep several trains of thought running at all times, seemingly picking one at random to continue, but no matter how far back Eddie rewinds, he can’t quite figure this one out. He’s definitely excited to get back home again, see Chris, sleep in his own bed, and get back to work, but the way Buck says it feels like he’s getting to a hidden meaning Eddie can’t quite grasp. 

Buck nudges his arm lightly, making sure he doesn’t accidentally send them careening off the road. Eddie’s skin stings where Buck’s fingers graze. Strike five. ‘You know, to get back to Alex.’

Eddie nearly does drive off the road.

‘Alex?’ The name feels weird on his tongue, the thought of her completely foreign to his brain, an imposter sneaking in. Eddie hasn’t thought about her since he called her in to help with Abigail. As far as he knows, Abigail is still settling into a home in Pasadena, and Alex, well, she’s probably still just doing her job.

‘Yeah,’ Buck urges, ‘She was totally into you.’ 

Eddie’s hackles raise like the spines on a cactus at Buck’s words, and nausea starts brewing inside his stomach. He hasn’t exactly been as in tune with women’s reactions to him recently, not exactly caring if they’re into him or not anymore, but still, he can’t recall a single moment in any of his interactions with Alex where they were anything more than politely professional to each other. The idea that he gave off any signs, any indication that he’d be open to more than that, fills him with dread. 

‘Oh, no, I don’t think that’d be a good idea,’ Eddie says, giving voice to the wild animal inside himself, scratching at the cage he’s just gotten reminded of. His skin starts crawling with the urge to break out. He could do it now, make a break for it and run through the desert without ever looking back. It’d be easier than turning around and facing the truth. Breaking free is one thing, but dealing with the consequences is something else entirely. 

Buck turns the volume on the radio down, clearing a path for their next words. ‘Why not?’ 

It’s a valid question. 

There’s an older version of Eddie that probably would’ve made a move. It would’ve been another easy relationship for him to fall into, following the pages and pointers of a script he doesn’t recognize anymore, one where he saves someone’s life, and they have a brief period where he conflates the feeling of being useful with the feeling of being in love, because it’s the easiest road to follow. There’s no reason on paper why Eddie wouldn’t follow his usual MO, or no reason Buck knows about anyway. Sticky guilt still clogs up his pores at the idea of lying to Buck again. 

He watches the speed gauge climb up in time with his racing heartbeat. Maybe if he drives fast enough, never stops, he can outrun this conversation. There’s a version of him that’d pick this path, that’s probably still on this same road, driving to outpace his own secrets.

He can keep driving forever, ignore the sticky feeling in his gut as he keeps stacking up lies and half-truths to hide behind.

‘I don’t like women.’ 

Or he could just crash. 

Eddie flinches as the words leave his mouth. They aren't part of any of the scripts he’s been rehearsing for months. He was gonna go with hey, I think I might be gay, and you’re my best friend, so I guess you should know, or d’you wanna try making out a little, just to see what it feels like? or maybe even I think you’re the hottest man I've ever seen, which is a thing I’ve been noticing recently, do you wanna officially raise my kid with me forever?. 

Eddie’s stomach somersaults as he strongly considers driving the car off the road again. 

Buck freezes. His hand is still stuck inside the bag at his feet, where they've collected a disproportionately large collection of snacks, picked up at gas stations along the way, ready to combat any craving they might have. 

Eddie’s brain, rather than dealing with the fact he sort of just came out, sticks to the thought that they have way too many snacks left for just one more day of driving, and he doesn’t really know what they're going to do with the leftovers, and how it’d make sense to divide them up between them and take them home but he’s been trying to get Chris into some healthier snacks so maybe Buck should just take all of them back to his house, which is not Eddie’s house, even though Eddie wishes it was.

Strike six. 

Buck finishes rebooting and turns his head to look up at Eddie. Eddie just about catches the confused look on his face in his periphery, ‘Are you coming out to me as a misogynist?’

Buck’s voice sounds pinched, unsure, but Eddie treats it like the hint of the joke he finds in Buck’s words, and it helps loosen up his ribs a little. Air rushes into his lungs as he relearns how to breathe. 

‘Obviously not.’ 

‘Can you pull over?’ 

Eddie keeps his eyes firmly glued to the road, swerving slightly to the left to avoid a pothole. He can't look at Buck right now, with all of his secrets rising to the surface like dead bodies. Buck would probably take one look at him and figure it all out, and Eddie can’t risk it. 

‘Why?’ He says, feigning innocence, like he can’t quite understand why Buck would make such an absurd suggestion.

‘Because I think you just came out to me as gay and I need to look you in the eyes when we have the rest of this conversation.’

The air in the car grows syrupy-thick, dripping down into the cracks Eddie’s just opened up inside himself. He can’t bring himself to turn his head, can’t bring himself to stop. All he can do is keep his foot firmly on the gas and his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, so Buck won’t notice they’re shaking. 

He swallows down the panic rising in his throat because there’s no reason to panic; he just needs a second to get himself back under control, and maybe then his body will stop trying to convince him he’s suffering through the end of the world. 

‘We can talk like this,’ he offers Buck, because it’s all he has. 

Buck sighs, which Eddie doesn’t really know what to do with, because Buck’s not the one going through an internal crisis right now, and it really feels like Eddie should be allowed to pick how he wants to suffer through this nightmare without commentary. 

‘Hold out your hand.’ 

Eddie blinks a couple of times before his body remembers how to follow simple instructions. He does as he’s told, trying to keep his hand as still as possible as Buck drops a couple of sour Skittles into his palm. He tosses them into his mouth, encouraging his brain to focus on the acidity between his teeth instead of the fact that the car feels too small now with one of his secrets out in the open, floating around between them, bouncing against the windows, mocking him, reminding him he can’t take it back.

He ignores all the exit signs they pass, and doesn’t hesitate as they drive by a gas station and a diner promising the best pies in New Mexico as he chews the inside of his cheeks to shreds, waiting for Buck to say something. Anything. 

Buck doesn’t put him out of his misery. He keeps digging through the bag of Skittles in his lap, utilising the occasional ray of light from the street lamps drifting through the passenger seat window to divide them out by color in the palm of his hand as he hums along to Andante, andante playing through the speakers. Eddie tries not to read into the lyrics, but it kind of feels like they’re mocking him right now. 

His skin starts crawling as his brain feeds him scenarios where Buck looks at him with pity, or concern, or god forbid, genuine understanding, because it's not what he needs right now. What he needs is for them to go back to normal as soon as possible, for the world to keep turning the same way it always has. 

After a minute, which feels like an hour, Buck taps Eddie’s arm and holds out another handful of green Skittles. Eddie takes them. He probably should’ve told Buck years ago that he doesn’t love the green flavour either, and he’s just eating them so Buck doesn’t have to, but it’s not the worst secret he’s kept. 

When Buck does finally speak, his voice sounds small and fragile, tugging at the wall around Eddie’s heart with fervour. 

‘Why didn’t you ever say anything?’

Eddie hates himself and his well-guarded heart just a little. 

‘I didn’t know, not until recently.’

Buck’s quiet again as he considers Eddie’s words, sorting them along with the Skittles between his fingers. 

Eddie jumps headfirst into the silence, tries to explain his reasoning without saying too much, but he needs Buck to know it’s not his fault he’s kept quiet for so long, that Eddie’s just an indecisive asshole who never learned how to identify his own feelings. ‘I wanted to wait until I was sure.’ 

Buck looks up at him. Eddie feels his eyes burning a hole through his cheek, but there’s nowhere to escape them, so he grits his teeth and endures. 

‘And you’re- you’re sure now?’ 

‘No.’ The word flies out of his mouth fast. It’s an answer he doesn’t have to overthink, ‘No, but maybe as sure as I’ll ever be?’ 

His words land somewhere between a question and a statement, but Buck nods, like it’s an answer he can make peace with. He offers Eddie more Skittles, and Eddie takes them without thinking. They both chew in silence, Eddie’s words clinging to the stale air between them. 

‘D’you wanna talk about it?’ Buck finally asks, and it takes everything inside Eddie not to laugh, because his heart is just a puddle on the floor of the car at this point. He knows Buck, knows a million questions are bouncing around in that pretty head of his right now, dancing on the tip of his tongue, but he’s letting Eddie take his time, and it means more than he could ever find say.

‘Yeah.’ Eddie breathes out, and it’s barely a whisper, but he doesn’t seem to be able to pull any other words from his brain down into his mouth. 

‘You know that means you have to say something, right?’ Buck points out. 

‘Yeah, thanks, Buck.’

Eddie shakes his head, turning on his indicator to pass a lone trucker in front of them as he weighs his options. Buck's managed to pull one brick free, but most of the construction Eddie's built around his secrets still stands, and he would like to keep it that way. 

He settles on the truth, ‘I’m just trying to figure out where to start.’

Buck raises a finger, pointing at Eddie, ‘I’d start at the beginning.’ 

‘Has anyone ever told you you’re really smart?’

‘Oh, all the time.’ 

Eddie hums, ‘Yeah, people have been lying to you.’ 

‘Fine,’ Buck huffs, his left leg still bouncing up and down restlessly. Eddie resists the urge to put a hand on Buck’s bare thigh and squeeze gently until the frenetic energy propelling Buck forward at all times abates a little, and – yeah, straight to jail that thought goes. ‘I’ll ask you some questions, then. You can decide if you wanna answer.’ 

Eddie nods his reluctant agreement, knowing there’s a flaw in Buck’s logic, one where it’s getting harder and harder to lie to him. 

‘Wait, I just-,’ Buck turns around in his seat, and Eddie steals a glance in his direction. His expression is open, earnest, and too much, and exactly the fucking reason Eddie can’t look at him right now. ‘Thanks for telling me, Eddie.’ 

Eddie allows himself a breath of silence for the words to sink in. He waits for the cage around his ribs to loosen, for air to get down into his lungs, but it’s an idle hope. 

He settles on a joke instead, because actually acknowledging Buck’s words, taking them as seriously as Buck means them, feels impossible right now. ‘Took me long enough.’ 

‘Yeah, how did you figure it out?’ 

Eddie sighs, rubbing the first hint of tiredness from his eyes. ‘You remember when I went back to Texas?’ 

‘Vividly.’ 

He recognizes the hint of dejection in Buck’s voice. There’s a similar wound inside Eddie that’s still a little raw. There’s a scab slowly forming, but it’s a delicate one. 

‘Right,’ Eddie presses on, ‘So I ran into an old friend of mine there, Scott. We went out for coffee to catch up. He told me all about his husband and their two cute kids, and I told him all about Chris and Shannon.’ He trails off, waiting for the dull ache to pass. It’s lost a lot of its sharpness over the years, but it still hurts. ‘I don’t know, at some point, the conversation landed on people we had a crush on in high school. I had Shannon, of course, who was really more my best friend than someone I was in love with, I know-’

Eddie cuts himself off with a sigh, looking over at Buck with a small smile, ‘I know I’m a walking cliche in hindsight and missed some pretty obvious signs.’ 

Buck mimes zipping his lips shut, ‘I didn’t say anything. You’ve never missed an obvious sign in your life, Eddie.’ 

Eddie ignores the teasing lilt in Buck's voice in favour of continuing his story, ‘Then he confessed he used to have a crush on me.’ 

Buck inhales sharply, the bag of Skittles crinkling loudly inside his hands as he squeezes it shut.

‘Oh.’ 

‘Yeah, he- uh, he said he always used to find an excuse to hide out in the stands when I had running practice-’

‘Wait, I thought you danced in high school?’ 

‘No, no, I quit when I was fourteen, switched to track.’ 

Buck nods, ‘Explains why you’re so fast, you’ve had a lot of practice.’ 

‘Anyway,’ Eddie cuts through Buck's distraction, ‘Apparently he had my timetable memorized just so he could run into me in the hallway by accident, and he pretended to like Call of Duty, just so I’d invite him over after class to play it with me and then it hit me that he was just explaining my own experience back to me.’

‘Yeah, don’t you hate Call of Duty?’

‘Oh, absolutely, turns out I’m not just gay, I’m also a liar.’ 

Buck barks out a laugh. It’s not the kind that's making fun of Eddie, it’s the kind that burrows underneath Eddie’s skin, lighting up his insides like a Christmas tree. He doesn’t realize how close to the truth the joke hits until it’s out in the car with them. He clears his throat, getting himself back on track, ‘I just liked spending time with him, even if I had to suffer through Call of Duty for it.’ 

Eddie doesn’t add I thought that’s what being best friends was like, because it’s that kind of reasoning that landed him in his current predicament, where he’s got feelings too damn big to contain and no words inside his head to identify them. Or not until recently. 

Eddie dated women because that’s what he was supposed to do. There was never any reason, or any room, any opportunity to question if it was what he actually wanted. 

Eddie Diaz, born to follow orders. 

He also keeps a tight hold on the simple truth that being around Buck feels the same way as being around Scott had, only a million times worse. He searches for Buck’s face on every call they’re on, just to check in, the same way he’d looked for Scott in the stands all those years ago. And he waits for Buck to finish tying his shoelaces after shift, just so they can walk to their cars together. And he doesn’t play Call of Duty anymore, but he invites Buck over for video games with Chris, or dinner twice a week, or just for drinks, or sometimes just because he selfishly needs a couple of extra hours to get high on the heedy, all-consuming rush he gets from being around Buck, no matter how confusing it gets.

He’d gone back home, to his parents’ place, after coffee with Scott, and tore apart his entire bedroom looking for clues, other glaringly obvious signs he might’ve missed along the way, ready to mock him. He came up empty. He could probably spend forever looking for answers and never find any. 

He sums it up a little more neatly for Buck, not like the earth-shattering experience it was, the disjointing feeling of your entire core shifting, trying to shape itself around a new, impossible truth, ‘I went home and cried in my childhood bedroom afterwards, which feels very fitting.’ 

‘Great place for a crisis about your sexuality,’ Buck agrees. 

‘The months after that were just-’ Eddie pauses, trying to pull out the word hiding just behind his teeth for the way he’s been oscillating between guilt and doubt and exhilaration and relief every single day since, ‘Hell?’ 

‘Hell,’ Buck echoes, encouraging Eddie to keep going. 

Eddie’s skin feels sunburnt, ready to peel off, the way it often does when he’s got Buck’s sole attention on him, but he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. If he stops the car now and gets out, he has to look at Buck. Now that he’s drawn open the curtains, revealing a sliver of truth, he’s unsure what else Buck will find on his face upon close examination. 

If he doesn’t stop the car, he’ll keep being stuck in a car with Buck and his ridiculously short shorts, the pale glow of the streetlamps painting strips of light and shadows onto his bare thighs. There’s just so much of Buck, always, his long limbs stretching to fill the footwell, his big hands reaching out to mess with the screen, his broad shoulders making the back of the seat underneath almost look small. It’s not just the sheer physical size of him; Buck fills up every room he’s in. His laughter’s always the loudest, his star always shines the brightest. It’s a lot, especially in a small, confined space. 

Eddie redirects his gaze to the route mapped out on the screen in front of him. He’s still got another twenty minutes of torture to go. Twenty minutes to get this show back on track. Twenty minutes to relearn how to keep his secrets contained. Twenty minutes to remember his lines. 

He owes Buck an explanation, though, one that’s a valid enough reason to keep such a big secret from his best friend and, most importantly, one that isn’t the fact that he’s in love with said best friend, but trying his absolute best not to be. 

‘Have you kissed a man?’

Eddie laughs at the bluntness of the question, the urgency in Buck’s voice betraying the fact he’s been sitting on that one for a while. 

‘No.’

‘Have you thought about kissing a man?’

All the damn time.

‘Yeah, I think that’s kind of a prerequisite. I don’t think straight guys think about kissing men.’ 

‘Probably not,’ Buck agrees. Then, another question: ‘Why are you telling me now?’ 

‘Probably so you’ll stop encouraging me to date women.’ Eddie says it jokingly, but it rings true. He feels a sense of relief, knowing he won’t ever again have to deal with his stomach turning as Buck tells him he just hasn’t found the right woman to settle down with yet. He’ll have to deal with Buck telling him he hasn’t found the right man yet now, which is a different kind of hell, but a truer one. 

‘Got it, scrapping women off the list for you.’ Buck mimes the action. Eddie rolls his eyes and holds down the smile threatening to spill onto his face. 

Buck lets out a loud yawn, and Eddie stifles one of his own as he points at the screen. The minutes until their arrival have been slipping away between Eddie’s fingers, ticking down like a time bomb. ‘We’re almost there.’ 

Buck nods, bending down to rummage through the bag at his feet again. Eddie had insisted on keeping the snacks on the backseat, so there’d be room for Buck’s giant legs to go, but Buck had protested that he needed easy access to snacks and drinks at all times to fulfill his co-piloting duties – which apparently included keeping Eddie well-fed and well-hydrated at all times. 

Buck pulls out a water bottle, unscrews the cap, takes a sip, and then hands it to Eddie. Eddie takes it, trying to convince his brain not to dwell on the fact that they’re actively swapping spit at this point, because it’s no different from how they normally act, but now he’s got a Buck-sized secret to contain, and it feels different. He sloshes the water around in his mouth, trying to dislodge the Skittles that are stuck between his teeth like tar. 

‘Do you want to try kissing a man?’ 

Eddie nearly spits out his water. He just about manages to swallow it while sorting through solutions in his head. He could pray for car trouble, he could pretend he’s suddenly gone deaf, he could pretend he’s lost the ability to speak English, or he could turn the music back on and block out Buck’s questions for the next fifteen minutes like a petulant teenager. 

He could probably also try being less dramatic, like a deer caught in headlights, and answer the question. 

‘Uh, yeah, at some point, probably,’ he stammers, trying to keep his voice as level as possible.

Buck hums, ‘Good to know.’ 

It trips him up again. Knowing Buck, he’s about to take Eddie coming out as another excuse to try to find him a partner, which is the last thing he needs right now. He has a partner, in a way, a best friend, and until he deals with all the complicated feelings he has about Buck, he can’t bring anyone else into that dynamic. It wouldn’t be fair to them. 

Buck’s quiet long enough for Eddie’s mind to start spinning again, replaying every part of the conversation they just had in great detail until he latches onto a flaw. 

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.’ 

Buck shrugs, ‘There’s no timeline to coming out. I’m just happy you told me. Have you told anyone else?’ 

‘Just Chris.’

‘What’d he say?’ 

So you finally realized you’re in love with Buck?

Eddie shakes the memory out of his head, cursing his too-smart for his own good child under his breath. ‘Just that he was happy for me.’  

‘So,’ Buck draws out the word. Eddie braces for impact. ‘Are you into anyone at the moment?’

Alarm bells start blaring inside his skull, the sound of his own heartbeat like thunder bouncing around his head. 

Just you, actually, I think it’s always been you.

‘No, I don’t think so?’ It comes out more like a question than a statement, so Eddie clears his throat and tries again, ‘I think I’m just still coming to terms with everything.’ 

‘I get that,’ Buck says, hands gesturing wildly in the cramped space of the car. His tone betrays that he doesn’t actually get it, ‘But aren’t you curious?’ 

Yes.

‘No.’

‘No?’ 

‘I mean,’ Eddie corrects himself, ‘Maybe a little? I think I’m mostly just terrified.’ 

‘Of men?’ 

‘Of messing up.’ 

It feels like a valid fear to admit to. If he’s being completely honest with himself, he is scared of testing out his hypothesis, of having turned his entire world, his entire idea of who he thought he was, upside down, only to figure out it doesn’t work either. Of course, he’s even more worried about messing up nearly a decade of friendship, but Buck doesn’t need to know that. That would kind of ruin the friendship. 

They’re both quiet again for a beat, the shadows of the cacti on the side of the road looming over the car, standing vigil for Eddie’s foray into purgatory. There’s a stillness in Buck that isn’t usually there, and Eddie wants to rush in, fix it, tell him they'll be okay, that this doesn’t have to change a thing between them, and that he’s not in love with Buck, but he can’t sell that lie with a straight face.

Buck reaches out a hand to turn the volume of the radio back up, Eddie’s eyes catching on his fingers as he turns the dial. 

‘No more questions?’ Eddie asks, feeling strangely calm on the other side of spilling his guts. Maybe he’s just tired, completely wrung-out, and not capable of feeling anything anymore after feeling everything at the same time. 

‘For now,’ Buck answers, his tone foreboding. 

The air prickles on Eddie’s bare arms when he gets out of the car at the motel. It’s significantly cooler than it had been when they last stopped, the desert loosening its grip on the heat.

Buck meets him at the trunk, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for Eddie to pop it open and take out their duffels. Eddie’s stomach is back to doing backflips, sinking down onto the pavement between them as Buck clears his throat. 

Eddie decides his best course of action is to cut Buck off, delaying his execution, buying himself precious minutes of peace, ‘You wanna check us in? I’ll go grab some dinner.’ 

He shoulders his duffel, gesturing vaguely at the diner on the other side of the parking lot with his eyes focused on Buck’s chest rather than his face. He’s not ready to face Buck’s face.

‘Eddie-’ 

‘I’ll be right back.’ 

Buck must notice something in the tightness in Eddie’s jaw because he lets him go without further protest. Eddie does his best to feign casualness, walking across the parking lot as fast as possible while trying to remember how his legs work. 

Eddie orders them both the biggest burger on the menu, some sort of monstrosity with two patties, three kinds of cheeses, and onion rings, and a large fry on the side. He adds a chocolate milkshake for Buck as an afterthought. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he leans against the bar, waiting for their order. 

Buck: We’re in room 2 and 3

Buck: I’m claiming 2 though, it has a bath

Eddie catches himself smiling down at his phone. He wipes the grin off his face before it can take root. He types out a quick response with one hand as he accepts the bags with their food with the other one.  

Eddie: Very inconsiderate since I’m grievously injured, but sure

Buck: You snooze you lose, Diaz

Eddie lets out a loud snort as he exits the diner, making his way back across the parking lot to the pale beige motel building. He follows the signs to their rooms, stopping in front of Buck’s door to knock. There’s no answer, so he walks further down to his room and knocks again. 

Buck swings open the door with a wide grin that makes Eddie’s traitorous heart miss another beat. He curtsies, urging Eddie inside, ‘Welcome, sir, would you like a tour?’ 

Oh, this he can do. He could dance around what they actually should be discussing until he runs out of oxygen and his legs give out, if it means he never has to flay himself open again. 

Eddie straightens out his back, sticking his nose up in the air, latching onto the very welcome distraction, ‘Why yes, I would very much enjoy a tour.’ 

He follows Buck into the room, plopping their food down onto the console table and his duffel bag next to the door, rubbing his shoulder where the strap’s been digging in. 

‘If you would please direct your attention to the carpet,’ Eddie’s eyes track Buck as he points at the floor between them, grabbing hold of the opportunity to take him in freely like a man who’s been starving for years who’s just been offered a meal, ‘As you can see, it has a one-of-a-kind, unidentifiable stain right as you walk in.’ 

Eddie nods solemnly, ‘Whoever designed the space clearly paid attention to detail.’

‘I can assure you nothing was overlooked, sir,’ Buck says, tone laced with unsurpressable glee as he gets more into his role, ‘You might also notice the designer loved supporting small, local artists.’ Buck gestures towards the painting above the bed, a framed printed-out copy of The Starry Night by Van Gogh, hanging ever so slightly crooked.

Eddie gasps in mock-surprise, ‘Oh my, I’ve never seen anything like it before.’ 

‘You clearly appreciate the finer arts, sir.’ 

Buck trails off into the bathroom, and Eddie tails close behind, cursing those damn short shorts again as he keeps his eyes firmly on the dark-green carpet beneath his feet.

Buck spins around on his heels, coming to a stop in front of the bathroom door. ‘Of course, I have saved the best for last.’ 

‘Of course,’ Eddie agrees, nodding encouragingly.

Buck pulls open the door, revealing a small, thankfully clean, bathroom, barely illuminated by a tiny lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. It’s tiled from top to bottom with mossy green tiles, the color only broken by a dusty pink toilet and sink. 

‘I can assure you, no murders have taken place here this week, sir.’ 

‘Hmm,’ Eddie steps into the bathroom with Buck, realizing belatedly it’s too small to fit both of them without having to crowd too close together. He covers up the stutter in his heartbeat by staying committed to the bit, ‘And what about last week?’ 

Buck shakes his head, shoulder bumping into Eddie, ‘I cannot assure there were no murders last week.’ 

Eddie takes a deep breath, pretending to think it over, ‘It’s unacceptable,’ He pauses for effect, locking their gazes together, ‘But it’ll have to do for one night.’ 

Buck lets out a breath in faux-relief. It ghosts against Eddie’s face, and he has to talk himself into staying put, even when every single layer of his veneer is cracking under the unrelenting pressure, ‘Thank you, sir, you won’t regret staying with us.’

‘Let’s go eat,’ Eddie says, poking holes into their game to let the air out, ‘Before it gets cold.’ 

Buck follows him out of the bathroom, walking over to the queen-sized bed and settling down onto it with a loud groan that sends tingles up Eddie’s spine. He ignores them, tells his brain off for the millionth time today as he starts unpacking their food. 

‘Stop being impatient,’ Eddie scolds Buck, who’s been reaching out his hands, making grabbing motions towards the food. Eddie relents easily, though, walking up to the bed, filling Buck’s hands with a tightly wrapped burger and a packet of fries, dropping a wide array of sauces onto the bed. 

‘Thanks,’ Buck breathes out with a wide smile, looking down at his food like he’s just been handed treasure. 

Eddie notices how Buck's shirt has ridden up, just a little, but enough to show a small strip of pale skin on his stomach and reveal a trail of dark hair that draws Eddie’s gaze further down. The room feels smaller, suddenly, shrinking down to Buck splayed out on the bed, slowly peeling away the wrapper around his burger. Some ketchup squirts onto Buck’s hand as he bites into the burger, and Eddie watches helplessly as he lifts his fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean one by one. The mix of spit and grease on his fingers glistens underneath the harsh fluorescent light coming from above them. 

Since he figured out he’s gay, it’s almost like everything Buck does gets magnified by a thousand percent, like he’s watching it through a camera, every movement a slow-motion sizzle reel, and it's infuriating. A thought finally swims up through the haze. He’s been standing next to the bed, staring at Buck like an absolute idiot for way too long for it to be considered normal. 

Buck seems unperturbed, though, picking up the dip sauces one by one and examining the ingredients, ‘Hey, d’you think this maple pumpkin bacon dip would be good?’ 

Eddie slinks away, crossing the room again to grab the chocolate milkshake. ‘No, but you should try it anyway.’

‘Oh god.’ Buck winces as he chews, ‘They really need to stop putting pumpkin into everything.’ 

Eddie realizes now, belatedly, that getting the milkshake was probably a silly thing to do, not really the act of someone who’s trying to fly under the radar, but Buck's grin grows wide when he spots it, which makes it all worth it again. 

‘That makes up for the weird pumpkin dip you chose.’ 

‘Don’t blame me,’ Eddie shoots back, dragging one of the chairs from the corner of the room over to the bed, sinking down into it, taking off his shoes, and kicking his feet up on the bed, ‘You always complain I never bring you enough dips, so I brought you all of them.’ 

‘You spoil me, Eddie.’ 

Eddie ignores the stutter in his breath, sticking a couple of fries into his mouth to stop any more words from spilling out. 

Buck’s unusually quiet as they eat, working his way through his food at record speed, even for him, and making loud slurping noises as he finishes off his milkshake. Eddie feels unease slipping back underneath his skin, mindful of the calm before the storm. 

Eddie’s phone buzzes again at the same time as Buck’s does, putting a pin in his torment for now.

Chris: Still alive out there?
Eddie: Just made it to the motel
Chris: Cool, don’t get murdered by a serial killer
Chris: Also, can I watch the new episode of The Pitt?
Buck: No
Buck: No Pitt without us, you know those are the rules
Chris: No fair
Eddie: Life’s a bitch

‘I would love to watch an episode now.’ 

‘Buck,’ Eddie chastises. 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘Remember how we promised not to like two seconds ago?’ 

Buck pouts as he tosses his phone back onto the bed. It threatens to bounce off the edge, but Eddie catches it before it can, placing it next to Buck’s bare calf, which he doesn’t look at or notice in any way. ‘You and your rules are no fun, Eddie.’ 

Eddie snorts, getting up and collecting their trash.

‘D’you wanna head back to your room?’ Eddie asks as he tries to stack their empty containers on top of each other to fit them into the tiny trash can next to the door. He’s not entirely sure which answer he’s hoping for. He’s a multifaceted human; there’s space for two different kinds of prayers in his head right now. 

Eddie turns to face Buck, carefully tucking his hopes, whichever direction they end up leaning in most, back behind his teeth. 

Buck runs his palms over the sheets underneath him, nestling deeper into the stack of pillows, ‘Not yet, I’ve just thought of more questions.’ Eddie groans as he slumps into his seat, keeping the carefully crafted distance between them. He kicks his feet back up onto the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, one where he doesn’t look like he’s mimicking a person trying to be comfortable, but the constant buzzing underneath his skin is making it hard to remember how his limbs function.

Buck doesn’t suffer from the same awkwardness. He lets out another jaw-cracking yawn as he stretches out his legs. His foot ends up resting against Eddie’s ankle. Eddie pretends not to notice, but it takes up most of his brainpower, and he’s already running on fumes. 

‘How did you tell Chris?’ 

Buck’s question pulls him out of his own head. Eddie considers how much of the truth he can let out for a beat before answering. 

‘He mostly guessed it himself,’ Eddie ventures carefully. 

‘Smart kid,’ Buck points out. 

‘Yeah,’ Eddie agrees, suddenly transported back to El Paso all those months ago and how, after crying in his childhood bedroom for some long-lost version of himself, which was embarrassing enough already, he then had to drive over to his new house, which never felt like a home, and tuck all of those realizations away again, because they were too new, too fragile, and he couldn’t handle anyone else knowing yet. Chris took one look at him, and Eddie burst into tears again, throwing his own plan of figuring everything out himself first and then, once he relearned who he was and was sure of it, no more room for wavering or second-guessing, potentially sharing it with other people, if it ever came up organically. 

‘Yeah, he’s the best there is.’ 

Buck studies him, and Eddie shoots him a small smile in return, unsure what else to do. It's a strange feeling, this awkwardness between them that’s never been there before, and he doesn’t know how to navigate it, doesn’t really know who they are if they aren’t best friends who share everything, know each other with just one look.

‘You know, he has been pushing me to tell more people for months now.’

Buck lets out a laugh. ‘Oh, he’s gonna love hearing about this when we get back.’ 

Eddie swallows around the lump that’s suddenly in his throat at the thought of having to tell his kid that yes, he did tell Buck he’s gay, but no, he did not tell him he’s deeply head-over-heels in love with him because the two don’t seem super related, actually. He can picture the look of disbelief and judgment on Chris’s face clearly enough in his mind to start second-guessing his decision to keep it all cloistered against his chest, but maybe coming clean about one big secret is enough for today, the load on his back slightly lighter. 

Buck’s foot is warm against his ankle, the heat radiating through his sock. Eddie allows himself to feel it, for just a second. On top of his stomach twisting itself into knots, there’s a comforting familiarity there as well, the gentle pressure keeping him grounded. The casual intimacy is a welcome relief; nothing has to change between them.

Something else starts gnawing at Eddie then, exactly because nothing has to change between them. He doesn’t want anything to change between them – except for the moments when he does, but he’s actively been trying not to pay too much attention to those, but Buck’s acting like nothing has changed between them. If the feeling was in any way mutual, which, again, is something he’d only considered for seconds at a time in his wildest daydreams, Buck would’ve said something. So, nothing has to change between them, and his heart sinks a little as the realization hits. 

‘Enough about me,’ Eddie says, ripping off the band-aid. There’s no staunching the bleeding now; his heart is a wide-open, gushing wound, and he might as well dig the knife a little deeper to get it over with faster. ‘What about you?’ 

Buck’s brow furrows in confusion, which is unfortunate, because all Eddie wants to do now is reach out a finger and smooth out the little wrinkle of skin, ‘Me?’ 

‘Yeah.’ Eddie clears his throat, trying to make the words come out less pinched and awkward, as if he genuinely wants to know what Buck has to say and hearing the wrong answer won’t kill him, ‘Are you seeing anyone?’ 

Buck lets out a short, barking laugh, waving Eddie’s question away, ‘My love life’s about as dry as the desert out there.’ He gestures towards the window. 

Eddie pauses again as he tries to locate the right words for what he wants to know, but they keep dancing just out of reach, taunting him. ‘But you like men and women?’ 

‘Last time I checked.’ 

Eddie nods, remembering, a small pull inside his chest, ‘Right, you checked very thoroughly last time.’ 

‘Listen, Eddie.’ Buck puts his milkshake down on the bedside table, his expression and tone suddenly serious. Eddie shift in his seat, his shoulders tensing, ready to run out into the desert and disappear forever if he has to, coyotes be damned, ‘I don’t think we had the same kind of struggle, and I’m not saying we can’t talk about it, because I’m so glad you’re trusting me with this, but not being straight was always an option for me, and I don’t think it was for you.’

Buck looks at Eddie for a long time. Long enough for the world to stop spinning and for the universe to shrink down to just the two of them on a queen-size bed inside a dingy motel room in the middle of the New Mexico desert. 

‘No,’ Eddie finally whispers, realizing Buck’s managed to put the truth that’s been haunting him all along into words, ‘No, it wasn’t.’ 

Buck nods, waits patiently for Eddie to say more. Eddie stares at the painting behind Buck’s head, following the swirls and spirals of the dark blue night sky, like they’ll bring him closer to an answer. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, bracing his body for the confession. ‘I don’t really know how to tell my parents.’ 

‘You don’t have to.’ Buck’s answer is lightning fast. 

Eddie laughs mirthlessly at the suggestion. It’s a nice idea, cutting them off forever, but it’s not a realistic option. They’ll always be a part of his life, for Chris. Buck’s always been more black and white than Eddie's endless tints of grey. 

‘I’m serious,’ Buck presses, still not getting it, ‘You don’t owe them that.’ 

‘I can’t make that decision for Chris.’ 

Buck’s face scrunches up in frustration, but he lets it go, drawing back his shoulders to settle back against the headboard. 

‘Okay, you don’t have to tell them yet,’ Buck compromises. 

‘Just postponing my funeral,’ Eddie dooms. 

Buck pokes his calf with his toes, making Eddie flinch involuntarily. ‘How are you feeling now?’

The abruptness pulls the truth out of Eddie’s stomach like a fish stuck on a line. ‘Like I’ve been lying to myself for decades.’ 

‘You weren’t lying to yourself, Eddie.’ 

‘Fine,’ Eddie sighs, finally pulling his gaze away from the wall and letting it settle on Buck, whose eyes widen, like he’s surprised by what he finds inside Eddie’s. ‘Like I’ve been withholding the truth from myself for decades.’ 

Buck shakes his head. ‘No, you just never allowed yourself to know the truth, it’s not lying.’ 

Eddie scoffs, ‘Semantics.’ 

‘No,’ Buck shakes his head again, eyes boring into Eddie’s, ‘You were raised in a family that never allowed you to be anything but what they needed you to be. It’s not your fault for conforming for years. It’s what you were taught to do.’ 

It slices through Eddie like a knife, cutting him wide open, guts spilling out for Buck to gawk at. No one’s ever put it that bluntly before, and the way Buck had his thoughts ready makes Eddie think it’s not the first time they’ve crossed his mind. It’s too much, knowing Buck’s spent time scrutinizing Eddie’s trauma, deconstructing and analyzing it, ready to offer Eddie an explanation if he ever came asking for one. 

A car alarm starts blaring in the parking lot. Eddie gets up automatically, drifting to the lone window and pulling aside the curtain to take a look, glad to be removed from Buck’s interrogation for a couple of seconds. He sucks in a couple of breaths as he watches a man struggle with his car keys. It takes him a couple of tries, but he finally manages to push the right button, shutting off the alarm.  

Silence descends upon them like a spectre, heavy and eerie. 

‘Eddie?’ Buck’s voice sounds small, vulnerable, like he’s afraid Eddie might break apart if he looks at him the wrong way, and Eddie hates it. It's one of the reasons he’s been putting this whole thing off for so long, because now Buck knows, and there's no unknowing. Now he’ll always look at Eddie just a little differently, like he’s someone to pity and feel sorry for, and he doesn’t even know the worst part yet. The part that’s actually making it hard for Eddie to cross the room again. 

He leans against the wall, staring down at the ugly carpet beneath his feet, just for something to do.

‘You know I’m proud of you, right?’ 

Eddie looks up. The expression on Buck’s face isn’t one he recognizes, no matter how hard he tries to catalogue it. 

‘Proud of me?’

‘Yeah, Eddie, give yourself some fucking credit for once.’ 

Eddie rolls his eyes, letting the compliment drip off of him like rain. ‘Now why would you suggest something so outlandish?’ 

It’s enough to break the spell, and Eddie grabs the deck of cards from his duffel, bringing it over to the bed, getting in next to Buck on top of the sheets. 

Buck groans in mock-protest, ‘You can't stand the thought of me winning, can you?’

Eddie tuts as he deals the cards, ‘As far as I know, there’s still one day left in the Nashville Roadtrip Tournament.’ 

They play cards until Eddie’s eyes start burning, and then Eddie makes them play some more. He has to make sure he’s exhausted and all set to fall straight asleep as soon as Buck leaves, so there’s no room for doomsday thinking, no more brain cells awake enough to fret over endless nightmare scenarios. 

It’s only when the time between Buck’s yawns whittles down to seconds that Eddie’s willing to call it a night: ‘We should probably get some sleep, we’ve got another long drive tomorrow.’ 

‘Oh, are you done losing?’ Buck teases around a yawn. 

‘For now,’ Eddie says, pointing a finger at Buck, ‘There’s still time for a last-minute comeback.’ 

Buck gets up from the bed, stretching out his body with a loud groan. Eddie’s throat goes a little dry as he watches the muscles in Buck’s back ripple beneath his shirt. 

‘Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.’ 

Buck’s voice trails off at the end, and Eddie looks up from where he’d clearly been ogling Buck’s body. Buck’s eyes are on him, an unreadable expression on his face, and Eddie realizes he’s been caught. 

‘I- uhm,’ Eddie tries to remember the thread of the conversation as he gathers up all the cards on the bed, heat rushing to his cheeks, ‘I sleep perfectly fine.’ 

Buck laughs, head tilted to the side as he watches Eddie clamber, ‘Good to know.’ 

Eddie gets up, his knees cracking loudly from disuse, and trails behind Buck as he makes his way to the door, counting down the seconds until he’s blissfully alone again and can go over everything he did wrong today, every way he messed up, every time he was too honest in excruciating detail. 

‘So, what’s next? You know, with the whole being gay thing?’ Buck asks, pausing in the doorway, deciding to torment Eddie one last time. 

Eddie rubs his face, thinking it over. ‘I don’t know, I guess I’m just gonna keep trying to figure this out.’ 

Buck nods, rapping his knuckles against the door as he exits, throwing a wide grin over his shoulder towards Eddie. ‘If you ever need help figuring it out, you let me know.’ 

‘Thanks, Buck, I will.’ 

Buck's words don’t register until he’s closed the door between them, and then they do at all once, like a bullet through the shoulder. 

Eddie stands frozen, hand still on the doorknob, as his brain tries to reboot. He doesn’t wait for it to finish loading any other thoughts than Buck before he yanks the door back open, ready to veer left and cross the distance to Buck’s room. He doesn’t need to. Buck’s still standing right outside his door, leaning his shoulder against the wall. 

‘What are you doing?’

‘I could ask you the same question.’ 

Eddie shakes his head, done with Buck’s games, ready to combust if he doesn’t get a straight answer. ‘What did you mean when you said you'd help me figure it out?’ 

Buck wraps his arms around himself, trying to shield himself from the chilly wind blowing across the parking lot. He smiles a slightly crooked smile at Eddie, revealing a hint of his teeth before they dig into his bottom lip, pulling at it before letting it spring free again.  

‘That I’d kiss you if you asked, Eddie. I’d do anything you asked.’

Eddie’s brain catches on the wrong thing as he tries to catalogue his thoughts, like it's still trying to protect itself from feeling anything at all. ‘And you were gonna stand out here all night waiting for me to ask?’

Buck shrugs. ‘If that’s what it takes.’ 

Eddie sucks in a deep breath, hoping the new air inside his body comes with more clarity. It’s futile with Buck standing in front of him. His legs are crossed at the ankles, the corners of his mouth still slightly quirked up, his head ducked down just a little, leaning in close to Eddie, looking every bit the part of a cool and composed human. Eddie sees straight through it, despite the blur inside his own head. He notices the way Buck’s eyes keep flickering across Eddie’s face, like they can’t stay still on something for too long, and the way his breathing is shallow, tight at the top of his chest, and how his fingers keep dancing across his biceps, digging into his own skin.

Buck’s nervous, and it’s Eddie’s fault, and something starts clawing its way through his skull, some alien, wild thought he never in a million years thought he’d be having, but suddenly, it’s there, crystal-clear, shouting to be heard. 

Buck’s into him.

So Eddie shrugs, emboldened by the fact they’re on an even playing field again, and grabs hold of the door to start shoving it closed. ‘Good to know.’ 

Buck’s hand lands on the door with a loud thud, preventing Eddie from closing it between them, and Eddie can’t quite conceal the grin starting on his face. 

‘Eddie,’ Buck warns, voice low in the back of his throat. 

Warmth spreads through Eddie’s body. He tucks his tongue behind his teeth to keep himself from laughing as he spins around, facing Buck again. 

‘Yes?’ 

‘Can you stop messing with me?’ 

‘I could,’ Eddie says, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops, letting his gaze roam over Buck’s body, ‘But where’s the fun in that?’ 

Buck crowds in closer, stepping over the threshold again, closing the door behind him. He looks down at Eddie from underneath his lashes as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. 

‘Would you like me to kiss you?’ 

Eddie’s heart tries its best to keep up, thundering in his eardrums at near ear-splitting volume. He notices again just how big Buck actually is, and he’s never allowed the thought to linger inside his brain for too long but now it’s all he can think about as Buck looms over him.

Eddie ignores the alarm bells ringing inside his head, the voice inside his head trying to convince him this is a bad idea, and decides to try just admitting to what he wants for once. 

‘Yeah, I think I’d like that.’ 

Buck’s face breaks open in a wide grin, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a thunderstorm. He steps even closer, tentatively placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, his fingers grazing Eddie’s back. 

Eddie decides he’s tired of waiting; he’s done enough of that in his life. He sends one last prayer out into the universe as he reaches out for Buck.

Please let this feel right.

He pulls Buck in with a hand on the back of his neck, vaguely noting how soft Buck’s hair feels, and then they’re kissing, zero to a hundred in the span of a second, teetering right on the edge of the unknown and the familiar.

Buck tastes salty and sweet, like fries and chocolate milkshake, and his lips are incredibly soft. There’s a hint of stubble on his chin and cheeks, grown during their hours on the road, and it should feel weird or alien, but it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Kissing Buck is simultaneously the most exciting and the most grounding thing he’s ever done. It’s like they’ve done this before in a thousand different universes, and they’ll do it again in a thousand other universes, always stuck in the same inevitable timeloop that’s pushing them together. 

The kiss turns hungry, like they've both been starving for days. Eddie’s been starving forever, though, so he chases the taste of Buck’s lips, his tongue, the inside of his mouth, wondering if he’ll ever feel fully satiated again. His hands follow a path along Buck’s spine, dropping to his hipbones, pulling them closer together.

Buck folds with a small sigh, breathing it into the space between Eddie’s lips. 

Eventually, though, they have to climb off the edge, and Eddie pulls away, leaving his fingers on the small of Buck’s back so he can pull him right back in if needed.  

‘So, uhm.’’ Buck looks nervous, his lips swollen and pupils blown wide, ‘Did that help?’ 

‘Yes,’ Eddie answers, chuckling despite himself, but his happiness needs somewhere to spill out of, ‘Yeah, everything’s very clear now. Thanks.’ 

‘Yeah?’ Buck nuzzles the side of Eddie’s face, pressing kisses into his jawbone.

‘Yeah,’ Eddie’s voice sounds pinched, and his breathing has grown embarrassingly laboured. 

‘You let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with.’ 

Eddie looks up at Buck, allows himself to take in every inch of his face for what feels like the first time ever, now that he’s not afraid of getting caught staring anymore. 

‘Maybe you could kiss me again,’ Eddie offers, eyes flicking to Buck’s lips as the need to taste them again becomes almost unbearable. He’s not sure he’ll ever get anything done in life again when all he wants to be doing is kissing Buck. 

‘You kissed me, actually,’ Buck points out, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

‘Buck.’

‘Just ask, Eddie.’ 

‘Kiss me?’ 

Buck’s lips are on his in an instant. He kisses Eddie slowly and tentatively, a complete mismatch for the fire roaring inside Eddie’s chest. His fingers graze Eddie’s arms, travel up to his shoulders, then land on Eddie’s cheeks, bracketing him between strong, capable hands. 

‘Good?’ Buck asks when he pulls back.

Eddie finds his body leaning in, chasing the taste of Buck’s lips, and the safety he felt in Buck’s hands. All he can do is nod, words eluding him at the moment. A chuckle leaves Buck’s lips at Eddie’s reaction, but Eddie can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed, his knees nearly buckling under the weight of how much he wants this.

‘Can we?’ Eddie points towards the bed, and Buck’s expression grows serious, his shoulders tensing underneath Eddie’s fingertips. 

‘No, shit, no.’ Eddie shakes his head, trying to clear it, ‘No, can we sit?’ 

Buck chuckles, relieved. ‘Yeah, we can sit.’ 

‘Good, I think I’d fall apart if we did anything more than that.’ The truth rolls out easier now.

Buck laces their fingers together, pulling Eddie back over towards the bed. ‘You can take all the time you need, Eddie. I never even thought we’d be kissing,’ Buck lets out a small chuckle, ‘Although I did spend a lot of time thinking about kissing you.’ 

Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest, but he pays it no attention, used to ignoring it, and rushes in to disarm the compliment. ‘Wow, that’s embarrassing.’ 

Buck rolls his eyes. ‘I know, right?’ 

'Yeah, it’s almost like you’re into me or something?’ Eddie says it jokingly, but his stomach constricts as he waits for Buck’s answer. 

Buck lands on the bed, pulling Eddie with him. Their limbs slot together automatically, like it's the easiest thing ever now that they've crossed some invisible line. 

‘Me? Into you?’ 

Eddie nods, a white-knuckle grip around hope now that he’s had a taste.

‘Maybe a little,’ Buck admits, pressing the tips of their noses together, ‘But don’t let it get to your head.’ 

Bone-deep desire unfurls inside Eddie’s chest, branches shooting through his bloodstream, blossoming so fast it takes his breath away.

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ 

‘Didn’t want to scare you off.’

‘You know I don’t scare easily.’ 

Buck just shoots him a look. 

‘Will you stay?’ Eddie asks, not sure if his fingers could unclench their hold on Buck’s waist even if he tried. He doesn’t want to try, though. There’s a dark, faceless creature stirring inside him, rearing its head, wanting even more attention now that it's had a taste. Buck cradles it in between his hands, treats it with more care and love than Eddie could ever hope to deserve. 

‘Forever, if you’ll have me.’

A giddy smile sneaks onto Eddie’s face. He tucks it into the crook of Buck’s neck to hide it from view, too embarrassed still to let it out freely.

‘I meant in here, tonight,’ he whispers against the soft skin underneath Buck's ear.

‘Right, uhm,’ Buck chuckles, ‘Yeah, that too.’

‘I’ll take forever, though,’ Eddie hates how small and vulnerable his voice sounds, knowing Buck could break him apart with just one word if he wanted to, but he’s grown bold at the thought of a new kind of life, one where he gets to live his truth and gets to keep Buck at the same time dangling in front of him. ‘If you’re offering.’ 

Buck beams up at him, his eyes bright, endless pools of delight, ‘I’m offering.’ 

**

Eddie wakes up pleasantly warm and cosy. A contented sigh leaves his lips before he can fully remember why he’s feeling this heady mix of giddiness and satisfaction that’s spreading all the way from his toes up to his chest. His chest, which has Buck’s arms wrapped around it. 

A completely normal amount of stress rushes through him – he’s not panicking, not even a little, just slightly worried last night was a particularly well-crafted and realistic fever dream. Maybe he hit his head when he got pushed down the stairs during the competition, and he’s just been in a coma ever since. 

It wouldn’t explain Buck being in the same bed as him, though, or the way he’s plastered against Eddie’s back, their legs tangled together underneath the sheets, his warm breath ghosting over the back of Eddie’s head, tickling the hairs at the base of his skull. 

He allows one hopeful thought. One about how maybe this is just his life now. One where he gets to wake up inside Buck’s arms every single morning. The idea feels too big to be contained inside himself, slipping out between his palms as he tries to hold it.

‘Stop thinking so loudly.’ 

Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of Buck’s voice cutting through the silence.

‘I wasn’t,’ Eddie protests, turning around in Buck’s arms to face him. He opens his eyes, immediately getting caught in the deep blue ones staring back at him. Buck’s framed by the sunlight streaming in through the small window next to the door, the flimsy curtains doing nothing to stop it from getting inside. Eddie gets it, though, he’d also paint rays of light to highlight every inch of Buck’s body if he was the sun. 

‘Okay, maybe I was,’ he admits before he can get lost in another endless maze inside his own brain. 

‘We still on for forever?’

And just like that, Eddie’s mind clears. 

‘Yeah, sounds good.’ 

The final stretch of their drive isn’t all that different after all that. Buck still marvels at the wonders of the desert, and still sings along to the road trip playlist they spent hours curating before they left for Nashville, but he’s also got his fingers laced through Eddie's, and allows Eddie to lift them up every couple of songs to press a kiss to the back of his hand. 

Eddie hopes they never run out of road.