Archive of Our Own

If you’d have asked Buck why he said ‘yes,’ he would simply say he hadn’t been given enough of a reason not to. Not recently at least. Couple that with the fact it was his niece's birthday... yeah. He didn’t really want to come out of this feeling like the biggest asshole ever.

“And you’re sure you’re ok with it?” Maddie’s voice sounded from the phone speaker, unable to keep her own apprehension under wraps. “I literally got the call as they were boarding their flight. I know it’s super short notice—we can totally do a smaller get-together when they leave if that’s better. Just us.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Buck said, forcibly injecting the nonchalance into his voice. She couldn’t see the way his hands braced against the kitchen counter as he anxiously rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Heard you and Chim were planning on renting a bounce house for tomorrow. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

“Nice to see that you’ve got your priorities straight...” Maddie huffed, though, the fondness in her tone was undeniable. “You’re bringing Eddie and Chris, right?”

“You say that like you didn’t already invite them,” he chuckled, eyeing the save-the-date from where it’d been stuck to the fridge. In all of its bright, glittery pink glory. He vaguely remembered Chimney boasting about being the one to pick it out.

“I know,” she sighed, “but maybe I just wanna make sure you have your backup.”

“I thought you were my backup.”

“Well, consider this your backup formally requesting some backup.”

“Maddie,” he said, gentle but firm, “it’s fine. We’re fine. They’ve been pretty normal these last few times; I don’t see why Jee’s party would be any different.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Maddie breathed, as if attempting to convince herself.

And Buck hated how exhausted she’d sounded already. It made him wonder how that pre-flight phone call actually went down. Regardless, he kept his tone airy and light, “Hey, at least they got a hotel this time? Worse comes to worst, you can always kick them out.”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that,” she replied truthfully. But after a beat, her tone turned apprehensive and she asked, “You’d let me know if you wanted me too though, right?”

“Wanted to what?”

“Kick them out.”

There was a long pause where Buck struggled to think of what to say; mouth open with the words refusing to come out. Then, “Uh, y-yeah. Yeah, of course.”

There was another pause where Maddie considered how much of that she believed. But based on the exasperation in her tone... it wasn’t much, “Buck—”

“Oh, hey, Chris actually needed some help with his homework,” he lied, “can I call you back later?”

Doubtful, Maddie sighed, “Yeah… of course. Mom and dad are landing soon anyways; we’re heading to dinner after I pick them up from the airport, and obviously you and Chris are invited to tag along. Eddie too if he’s off shift by then.”

Buck grimaced at the prospect of dinner with his parents. “I’m gonna have to raincheck on that one,” he said, pushing down the guilt of leaving her alone with the two, “Eddie and I had something planned for when he gets off of work.”

Maddie didn’t press him for the details, and a part of him suspected that his sister knew he’d been lying and was choosing mercy. That, or she’d made assumptions about what those ‘plans’ might’ve entailed, and it wasn’t something she wanted to talk to her little brother about.

As the two finally said their goodbyes and ended the call, Buck audibly groaned.

“You’re a bad liar,” Chris called from the kitchen table, barely looking up from his laptop.

Sighing, Buck figured it was a fair assessment, “That’s probably a good thing.”

“Not today it isn’t.”

Eyes narrowing ever so slightly, “Isn’t there a paper you should be writing?”

“I can multitask.”

Huffing what might’ve been a laugh in drastically different circumstances, Buck let the issue lie. Pressing his back against the side of the counter, he slid down until he sat firmly on the floor. Shifting onto his side, he closed his eyes as he pressed his cheek against the tile. And it was cold. Sometimes, he liked the cold.

The quiet shuffling of approaching feet caught his attention. The voice that accompanied it even more so, “Hey, Buck?”

“Yes, Chris?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, peering down from where he stood.

And God—he loved that kid. “I’m good, bud. Thanks though.”

Even with the confirmation, Chris lingered. Shifting awkwardly, “... hey, Buck?”

“Yes, Chris?”

“You’re blocking the cabinet with the Oreos.”

Oh. Right. Without looking, Buck opened the cabinet and fished out the plastic tin. Handing it over, he resumed his spiraling face down on the kitchen floor.

The sound of the tin opening crackled overhead, and before Buck knew it, Chris was taking a seat next to him. The boy ate in relative silence, occasionally sliding it over so the man could grab a cookie. And every time—wordlessly and without fail—Buck did.

Buck didn’t ‘stress bake,’ despite what Eddie might’ve claimed. It was just that—in times of severe emotional disturbance—he liked to keep himself busy. And yes, occasionally, that included baking. But that’s not what this was, alright? Because when he had awoken in the dead of night, drenched in a cold sweat, he realized something:

He'd be seeing his parents in a couple of hours, and he hadn’t done a thing to prepare for that.

So. Here he was. Sweating over a stovetop at five in the morning, caramelizing 5 lbs of apples for a pie crust he’d made from scratch. It was a recipe of Bobby’s he’d never gotten around to trying, and now seemed as good a time as any.

The footsteps approaching from behind were of a different mind, however. Buck was maybe a quarter of the way through pouring the filling when he felt the gentle brush of hands on his waist. It was tentative, and searching, and they didn’t go further until he settled back against the other’s chest.

“Sorry,” Buck said, breathing a contented sigh as he felt the arms wrap around his middle, “did I wake you?”

Eddie just squeezed him tighter, rubbing his face between his shoulder blades. “Bed got cold without you,” he murmured.

And Buck couldn’t help but laugh a little at that, “Last I checked, you were the one hogging all the blankets.”

Grumbling something indecipherable into his neck, Eddie didn’t bother entertaining that with a response. Instead:

“ Shit!” Buck hissed, startling as Eddie suddenly shoved his freezing hands up the front of his shirt.

“See?” he said, rubbing them up and down against the bare skin for warmth, “Cold.”

Shuddering, Buck let him. And once they warmed up a little, it actually felt nice. Really nice. Calluses dragging over the dips and ridges of his abdomen, he closed his eyes and got lost in the feeling. But that did very little to ease the tension in his shoulder or the stiffness building in his jaw.

Eddie clocked it immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked, hands stopping before they could map out the outline of his chest.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Buck lied.

“Then why are you stress baking?”

“I don’t stress bake.”

“The last couple bake sales for Chris’ school might beg to differ.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Buck huffed, setting his empty bowl on the counter with more force than he meant to, “that’s all.”

And for a moment, there was silence. Neither moved. Neither spoke. It wasn’t until Buck laid the top crust over the pie pan that Eddie ventured, “Is it because your parents invited themselves to Jee’s birthday?”

Gripping the brush he’d been using to apply the egg wash a fraction tighter, Buck eventually muttered, “Chris told you.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Chim was being cagey all shift,” Eddie supplied, rubbing soothing circles into the sides of the other’s stomach, “but I didn’t piece it together until Chris sent me a picture of you lying down in the kitchen. On your face.”

Yeah. That’ll do it.

When Buck didn’t make an effort to respond, Eddie continued—soft and subdued, “You can talk to me about these kinds of things, you know.”

Buck did know—he promised—it was just that, sometimes, this thing with his parents felt like pretty well-trodden territory, and any subsequent rehashing felt a little redundant. Because it didn’t change how he felt about them or how they felt about him. Because he didn’t think they hated him. He just never got the impression they particularly liked him.

And he’d gotten pretty good at learning to live with it.

“I can hear you thinking,” Eddie said, pressing his lips against the back of his neck. 

“Sorry,” Buck whispered, feeling weirdly guilty when he felt the other tense, frowning against his skin.

In an act of mercy, the man didn’t press him on it. Instead, standing on his toes, Eddie hooked his chin over the other’s shoulder to catch a better glimpse of what he was working on. Brow furrowed, he asked, “Apple pie?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you allergic to apples?”

“No. They just make my throat itch.”

“Buck.”

“It’s the only kind my mom likes,” he sighed, far more defensive than he’d intended. Because there was just something about the way Eddie could effortlessly hold that mirror up to him, and Buck seldom ever liked what he saw.

“Ok,” Eddie eventually drawled, doing his best to stamp down his disdain for the woman for the other’s sake, “and how is that your problem?”

“Because,” Buck said, “it’s a five year-old’s birthday party, and there’s probably not gonna be any desserts there she’ll want, and then she’ll get weirdly passive aggressive about it, and then it’ll stress Maddie out even more, so it’s probably just best for everyone if there’s an apple pie there.”

And despite his ranting and raving, Eddie held him tighter, “Is that really what’s got you so stressed about tomorrow? Your mom being picky about her desserts?”

Taking a deep breath, Buck closed his eyes as he traced over the tan line on Eddie’s ring finger with his own; the thin band was half a shade lighter than the rest of him. Then, hanging his head in something resembling shame, “I haven’t told them,” and he hated how his voice cracked upon the admission. “They don’t know.”

And how shitty was that? Engaged for six months and dating for even longer, and Buck’s parents were none the wiser. And if he had it his way, they never would be.

Eddie deserved better than that.

Buck wouldn’t have held it against him if he’d retired back to the room to get at least a couple hours of sleep, leaving Buck alone with his thoughts and a pie he was allegedly allergic to. But Eddie didn’t leave. Didn’t even say a word. Instead, he made some weird puffing sound from his nose that sort of sounded like...

“Are you laughing at me?” Buck accused, craning his neck back, hitting the man with the full force of his incredulous stare.

“Yeah, a little,” he chuckled, not even bothering to hide his amusement, “because you think that’s something that matters to me.”

“Shouldn’t it though?” he ventured. It felt like more of a question for himself than the other. “They’re my parents.”

“Only on a technicality. I mean, could you imagine? Me and your parents. Doing whatever the hell proper in-laws are supposed to do,” Eddie laughed again, quiet and contained. Then, suddenly sobering, “Uh... unless that’s something you wanted me to do?”

If nothing else, it managed to startle a laugh out of him, “God, no.”

That was the only permission Eddie needed to bury his face in his neck, snickering right along with him.

And maybe that should’ve been sadder than it was—the lack of stake his parents had in his life being something they could laugh at. But each time Buck tried—attempting to force even a modicum of remorse or regret—the mental picture of Eddie in some stuffy suit, stiffly asking his parents for their blessing flitted through his mind, and then he was succumbing to a fit of giggles all over again.

But eventually, as their laughs tapered off into yawns, Eddie felt inclined to shift gears. “Come back to bed,” he murmured, pressing himself against the other’s spine, caging him in against the counter with his arms.

Shuddering, Buck managed a small shake of his head, “Not tired.” Though, the heaviness of his eyelids told a different story.

Humming a reply, Eddie dragged his hands lower and lower until they’d reached the waistline of his pants. Fingers fiddling with the elastic of his briefs… “Think I might be able to help with that.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Buck couldn’t help but goad, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And who would Buck be to deny him that?

“You could’ve made that,” Eddie tutted from the passenger side.

“It was yellow,” Buck grumbled, foot on the brakes as he watched the light finally turn red. And yeah. Ok. Sure. He could’ve absolutely made that. He knew that, Eddie knew that, and the guy in the car behind them currently flipping him off knew that. But what’s the rush?

“You’re stalling,” Eddie said. Amused.

Bristling under the incredibly valid, incredibly accurate accusation, Buck scoffed, “Am not.”

“Are too,” Chris—the traitor—called from the backseat, “it took you twenty minutes to tie your shoes right when we had to leave.”

“Oh, sorry,” Buck simpered, “I wasn’t aware safety was a crime.”

“They’re slip-ons.”

Which... Buck could begrudgingly admit was a fair point. Silently. On the inside.

With the light green in what felt like no time at all, he hesitantly took his foot off the brakes, shoulders tense much to the vexation of his passengers. None of it was directed at him.

“Why’d they come anyways?” Chris asked, tone distinctly disdainful.

“It’s their granddaughter’s birthday,” Eddie supplied in Buck’s stead, for which he was grateful, “and they didn’t want to miss it.” There. A perfectly reasonable answer that inspired no further line of questioning.

For Chris, however, that was decidedly not the case: “But no one invited them.”

“We are well aware,” Eddie said with a succinct nod.

“They invited themselves.”

“Yep.”

The boy remained silent for a moment, processing his father’s words. Ruminating on the information. Then, “That’s bullshit.”

“Christopher,” Eddie admonished. And perhaps he’d have been more scandalized if it wasn’t such a reoccurring issue.

“And that,” Buck said, chuckling as he turned into Maddie and Chim’s neighborhood, “is another dollar for the swear jar.”

“We’re still pretending we put money in that thing?” the boy scoffed, expression incredulous in the rear view mirror.

“I put money in there,” Buck replied, suddenly sobering as he glanced over at his fiancé who was deliberately avoiding eye contact. “I put money in there all the time. Have I really been the only one putting money in there?”

“Oh look, we’re here,” Eddie exclaimed, unbuckling his seat belt and rolling down the window, “Bobby, Athena—hey! How’s it going?”

The couple was parked on the right side of the street, attempting to unload something from the back of their car. When they saw the family rolling up, they immediately brightened.

“Well, fancy seeing you three here,” Athena called as the three parked, hoping out of their truck, “how’re you boys doing?”

“Oh, you know,” Buck shrugged, grabbing the pie from the backseat, “can’t complain.”

“He’s lying,” Chris said in passing, already on route to the door. A ruthless drive-by.

Raising an eyebrow, Athena pressed, “Oh?”

Buck shook his head. “I’ll tell you later,” he said, knowing full well that conversation would prove redundant as soon as they walked through that front door. Casting a glance at Bobby struggling with something in their trunk, “Is that supposed to be Jee’s present? I thought we weren’t supposed to be buying affection.”

Expression softening, Athena let the issue go as she gave a warm shake of her head, “Chim’s been having some trouble with the bounce house company. He’s been on the phone with a representative all morning; thought we might lend a hand by picking up one of his last minute orders.”

Nodding along as he watched Bobby attempt to yank the gift from the car only for it to refuse to budge... “Did he order the whole store?”

“Not quite. I think your sister talked him down,” Athena chuckled, approaching the vehicle to help her husband.

Buck followed to catch a glimpse of the contents of the trunk. What he was greeted by nearly left him speechless: “Is that...”

“A Power Wheels Barbie Jeep Wrangler,” the woman confirmed with a grim nod, “Chim overheard Hen and I talking about Michael getting one like that for May when she was little. What he didn’t hear, however, was how its battery ‘mysteriously’ disappeared when she started running down the other kids in the neighborhood.”

Damn. Baby’s first vehicular manslaughter.

“At any point do either of you plan on giving me a hand with this?” Bobby panted, sitting on the edge of the trunk bed in a defeated huff.

“I got it,” Eddie offered before Buck got the chance, handing him their gift to Jee on his way over, “you two run on ahead. Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.” And with the way he said it... perhaps Buck wasn’t the only one dreading the unplanned arrivals.

“Oh, yeah?” he murmured, leaning over with a sly grin, “Who’s stalling now?”

Eddie didn’t entertain that with a reply. Leaning forward, he gave the corner of the other’s mouth a quick peck. Silent retribution.

Buck wasn’t complaining.

“Alright you two,” Bobby said, tone unbelievably fond, “save it for the wedding.”

They’d make no such promise. Regardless, the two parted ways, gently knocking shoulders upon departure. With Eddie staying with Bobby, that left Buck with Athena. Alone. Free to poke and prod as she pleased.

“So,” she drawled, trying and failing to look inconspicuous, “you two finally pick out a date?”

Exhaling an exasperated breath, Buck resigned himself to his fate. “My answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked. Or the time before that. Or the time before that... or every time you’ve gotten Bobby to ask for you.”

Athena gasped in mock offense, “I have not been getting Bobby to ask—”

“Or Hen. Or May. Or—weirdly enough—David that one time?”

“Fine,” she begrudgingly, “I may have recruited some of the others to my cause. But only out of friendly concern. Everyone wants to know when we need to take time off, after all.”

And Buck couldn’t resent that if he tried. It was sort of nice, actually. Knowing how many people they had in their corner. Knowing how many people were earnestly and genuinely rooting for them. “If we pick a date,” he chuckled, “you’ll be the first to know. Other than Maddie.”

But Athena wasn’t willing to drop it so easily. Not when she’d caught something he hadn’t meant to let slip, “If?”

Shit.

“Yeah,” Buck trailed, perhaps a bit hesitantly, “with you and Bobby eloping, it got me thinking that maybe that’s not such a bad idea. We wouldn’t have to stress about costs, or planning, or who we should or shouldn’t invite...”

“Is that what you want?” she asked, staring at Buck with eyes that bore into his very soul.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You tell me.”

And it really shouldn’t have felt as damning as it did. Shaking his head, Buck elected to ignore it. Because this was his niece’s fifth birthday, and he’d be damned if he found a way to make it about himself.

As soon as the pair were through the door, they were assaulted by the smell of something burning.

“Oh, shi—crud,” Buck quickly corrected, mindful of potential little ears as he made a beeline for the kitchen. Setting down both Jee’s gift and the pie, he spotted something in the oven. Smoldering. “Crud—crud—crud!”

Yanking it out with a nearby pot holder, he used it to beat the flames into submission before they could fully take. What he was left with was a stack of pizza boxes, blackened around the edges. Wrinkling his nose, he grimaced at the stench of burned cardboard as Athena turned on the oven vent.

Shoes clacking against tile was the only warning they got before Maddie was rounding the corner into the kitchen. Eyes wide and hair disheveled, “What happened—what’s that smell?”

“Someone forgot the pizzas in the oven,” Buck supplied with an apologetic wince, “boxes included.”

Maddie blinked back in shock, words slowly processing. When they finally registered, her expression morphed into that of indignant anger. Massaging her temples with a frustrated groan, “Unbelievable... I specifically asked her not to. Twice!”

“The good news is,” Athena began, tone calm and soothing; always the beacon cutting through the chaos, “it looks like the pizza came out relatively unscathed, if not a little crispier than usual.”

Giving the contents of the burned boxes a quick once over, Maddie willed herself to release some of the tension that’d been building in her shoulders. “Good. That’s,” she paused, breathing a fresh sigh of relief, “good.”

Only two minutes into the party and Buck was already concerned, “Maddie...”

But his sister wasn’t having it. Because as soon as she glanced to the side, spotting the tin foil wrapped pie pan on the counter, her attention shifted to something far more pressing than her rapidly deteriorating mental state:

“Is that an apple pie?”

Buck nodded.

Before he could react, she was crossing the distance and engulfing him in a grateful hug, practically melting into the embrace like he was the only thing still keeping her standing.

He returned the gesture immediately, wrapping his arms around her, “Rough morning?”

“You have no idea.”

I think I might. Because as soon as they pulled away from one another, Buck heard another pair of feet enter the kitchen.

They were soon accompanied by the question, “What is that smell?”

And suddenly, he was ten years old again, standing in the kitchen having set a cup of microwavable mac and cheese on fire because he hadn’t known you needed to add water. Only, this time, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Still... he couldn’t shake that same feeling like he was about to get yelled at.

“Evan,” his mom said, her face the perfect picture of neutrality.

Buck thinks maybe he would’ve preferred getting yelled at after all. At least that would’ve meant she cared, one way or the other. “Hey, mom,” he smiled, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. Taking a few shuffling steps forward, he hugged her, and she let him. “How are you?”

“Good,” she said after a moment. After he let go. “I’m good.”

Nodding along, Buck wasn’t quite sure where to go from there, and he got the sneaking suspicion the feeling was mutual. Thankfully, they weren’t left floundering for long:

“Mom,” Maddie said, doing a diligent job keeping her tone both level and non accusatory, “did you put the pizza boxes in the oven?”

Turning to her daughter, expression impassive, Margaret spoke, “I told you they’d get cold by the time you got everyone to sit down for lunch.”

“And I told you they’d catch fire,” came Maddie’s exasperated reply, “and if it hadn’t been for Buck and Athena, they would’ve.”

Margaret just waved her off. Unconcerned. “Don’t worry about that,” she said, dismissing any and all trepidations, “your dad’s grilling the chicken Evan’s boss brought. We won’t even need the pizza.”

“Oh?” Athena voiced with a tight smile, “He didn’t need to worry about that. Bobby would’ve been more than happy to take care of it.”

And something in her tone gave Buck the distinct impression that’d been something his parents had forgone asking permission for. God—he could already imagine the irritated twitch in Bobby’s eye.

His mother remained none the wiser, and perhaps that was for the best. It’d save him the headache of trying to explain why they should apologize to the man later, or like... basic human empathy.

“I won’t keep you three any longer than I have to,” Margaret said like it was some great kindness. And considering the tension Buck had been carrying ever since her arrival... it sort of was. Opening the fridge and grabbing a platter of uncooked burger patties, she called over her shoulder, “I just came back to grab these for your father.”

Somewhere, somehow, he could picture Bobby falling to his knees, ruefully shaking a fist at the sky.

And for a brief moment, it looked like Maddie might soon follow. But with the words of protest caught in her throat and her mom already heading back to the patio, she let it slide. For now.

“Bobby seasoned them before we left,” Athena supplied once the woman was out of earshot. It was a comforting thought.

“Did he get the chance to season the chicken too?” Buck asked. Hopeful.

“Not unless you count salt.”

“I do not.”

“We still have pizza?” Maddie offered, placing the slightly singed boxes safely on the stovetop.

“We still have pizza,” Buck reassured, moving his present to Jee off the kitchen counter and onto the allotted gift table, “you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Chris got off to, would you?”

With a small smile, “Jee dragged him off to go play dolls with her and her friends. Says he’s the only one who does the voices right.”

And how could Buck’s heart not swell over that?

“I’m willing to bet he learned from the best,” Athena added, nudging the man  as she walked past, heading to join the rest of the party on the patio.

“Afraid Eddie gets to take the credit for that one,” and Buck would’ve joined her if not for the fact his sister made no move to follow. So, remaining behind, he asked, “Anything I can do to help?”

“Depends,” she began, sounding tired, “can you magically materialize the bounce house we promised our five-year-old for her birthday?”

“No I cannot,” Buck admitted, “but I can maybe commit to bringing said five year-old and a couple of her friends to that trampoline park downtown tomorrow?”

“You’d really do that?” Maddie asked, looking like she might cry.

He’d do a lot more if it meant seeing his sister and niece happy, but this was as good a start as any, “Yeah, of course, anything for Jee. And with that last minute gift Chim ordered, I sorta feel like I have to step up my game.”

The relief on Maddie’s face turned to confusion. Then suspicion. Then apprehension, “Last minute gift? What last minute gift?”

“Uh,” Buck trailed, looking for a way out while making the mental note to apologize to Chimney later, “oh, hey! I think someone’s waving me over, so I think I’m just gonna...” And just like that, he was gone, disappearing though the double doors of the patio and inserting himself into the nearest conversation.

Hen and Karen look at him upon approach, each raising an inquisitive brow.

“Either of you see Chim?” he asked, “I think I might’ve gotten him in trouble.”

“Bedroom,” Hen supplied, “he needed somewhere private to really lay into that sales rep who scheduled their rental one week later than they should’ve.”

“Which quickly turned into begging,” Karen added.

“Then crying.”

“Is it really that serious?” Buck asked. Dumbfounded.

Karen didn’t seem to mind explaining it to him, “First child’s first birthday with not only friends her age, but friends who weren’t friends of her parents first...”

“Translation: yes, Buck,” Hen concluded, “it is that serious.” She gestured to the decorations strewn across the patio. It looked like someone had ransacked the nearest Party City. The table cloths matched the cups that matched the plates that matched the plastic utensils. And there were balloons. So many balloons...

“I’ll take your word for it,” Buck muttered, eyeing parents of kids he’d never met as they congregated nearby, talking amongst themselves.

There was a group of them gathered around his dad manning the grill, all laughing as the man seemingly said something hilarious. His mom was over there too, thankfully looking busy enough that Buck could justify not going over to say hi. Not yet, at least.

“And he’s wearing my apron...” he heard Bobby sigh, like it’d been the punctuation to a long list of grievances. Turning around, Buck watched as he approached their little semicircle with Eddie. “Is nothing sacred anymore?”

Risking another chance at accidental eye contact, Buck confirmed that—yes—his dad was in fact wearing the gag gift he’d bought Bobby last year for Father’s Day: a navy blue apron with the words ‘Grill Master’ printed across the front. It had been a joke, but Bobby had loved it. And secretly, Buck had loved that he’d loved it. But now, seeing it on his actual father...

Wrong. It felt wrong.

“I can get it back for you,” Buck offered, surprised by the random surge of chilling anger the sight brought. “He should’ve asked. I don’t know why he wouldn’t just—”

“It’s alright, Buck,” Bobby said, brow raised at the mild outburst, “I don’t mind.”

Everyone stared. Unimpressed.

“I don’t,” he repeated, even less convincing than before.

If nothing else, it stopped Buck from continuing down the ill-advised war path. Though, he still couldn’t quite shake the pressure building at the top of his spine, nor could he shake the inexplicable anger simmering just beneath his skin.

Feeling a shoulder gently knock against his, Buck glanced over at the source. Eddie stared back, brow raised in silent question: ‘Everything alright?’

Giving a nod he didn’t mean in the slightest, Buck hoped that’d be enough to get him to drop it.

It wasn’t.

“Maddie said she and your guys' mom had a run-in in the kitchen,” Eddie said at volume only meant for him. It went unnoticed as the others waved Athena over, the ensuing conversation continuing on without either of their input, “You wouldn’t happen to know something about that, would you?” Given his tone, it sounded like he already knew the answer.

So, Buck shrugged, “My mom almost burned down the house. It wasn’t a big deal.” Maybe it should’ve been.

Blinking back—shocked—Eddie was already opening his mouth to press him on specifics. But he never got the chance.

“Why does my kitchen smell like sulfur and brimstone?” Chim asked as he sauntered onto the patio, burnt pizza boxes in hand.

“That,” Buck sighed, “is a question for my mom.”

Chim’s shoulders sagged like a man that’d been brutally worn down over the course of a morning. The impromptu visit from his in-laws certainly hadn’t helped matters. “Ah, should’ve figured,” he said, eyes drifting from the singed cardboard over to the woman in question, “she was weirdly persistent.”

Oh, Buck didn’t doubt that, recalling every distant memory of dinner kept warm for him by the oven in those later years. When Maddie was gone and he remained, unable to remember a single shared dinner with his parents that hadn’t fallen on some major holiday.

But before he could regale them on the abridged, heavily-edited version—more for their sakes than his—a gaggle of kids around Jee’s age came sprinting out of the house, and the conversation shifted.

Someone must’ve rang the lunch bell because the pack of five year-olds immediately descended on the impressive spread of food cobbled together by the Buckley-Han household on a nearby folding table. Their parents quickly jumped in to help facilitate its distribution before the kid’s efforts could devolve too much into pushing and shoving.

Slightly behind the brunt of the pack came Christopher, Denny, and Mara, decked out in varying degrees of cheap costume accessories. Chris in particular stood out, wearing a foam tiara and a feather boa paired with an expression that acknowledged neither.

“Hey, bud,” Eddie called, clasping him on the back as the three joined their parents, “having fun with Jee and her friends?”

“They wanted to play princesses,” Chris shrugged, really leaning into those moody teen years of his. Though, the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was a dead giveaway. That, and the fact he was still wearing the boa. “Denny tried to bring democracy to my kingdom, so I banished him to the salt mines.”

“It gets so cold there at night,” Denny said with a wistful sigh.

Mara concurred, giving a solemn nod.

A group of nearby parents shot them a funny look as they ushered their children away from them.

“Teenagers,” Eddie supplied like it was a perfectly reasonable explanation. But based on the way the other parents’ eyes narrowed in response, it was decidedly not.

But before he had the chance to stew with that lukewarm reaction, Maddie made her appearance from the kitchen, looking how Buck felt:

Frazzled.

“Food’s inside for anyone who doesn’t want slightly burned pizza or—” she was cut off by a loud sneeze that made no effort to cover itself, and Buck didn’t think it was possible for her to look any more defeated as she sighed, “anything that’s been sneezed on by a bunch of five year-olds. I made potato salad.”

“Potato salad sounds lovely,” Athena said, giving the other woman’s shoulder a supportive squeeze. One mom to another.

Relaxing under the touch and the comfort it brought, Maddie exhaled a calming breath as people began heading inside to fix their plates. “I don’t remember planning birthday parties ever being this stressful before,” she sighed to those still nearby to hear. In this case, Buck and Chim. With designated roles of brother and husband respectively, they were sort of obligated to. Not that they wouldn’t have stuck around if they hadn’t been though.

“Wonder why that is,” Buck muttered, watching his parents from afar. He didn’t make a move to approach. Then again... neither did they.

“They’re trying,” Maddie said, sounding like she truly, earnestly believed that.

But she hadn’t been there for the unreturned phone calls, the unanswered texts, or the unattended therapy appointment. Every extension of an olive branch being unceremoniously smacked from his hand, each attempt getting weaker than the last. And because Maddie hadn’t been there—because she hadn’t known— Buck couldn’t bring himself to hold it against her.

“Sure,” he eventually said, lips flattening as his dad acknowledged him for the first time since arrival—brief eye contact followed up with a polite nod.

Well. Alright then.

Anxiously glancing between his in-laws and their children, tension wound so tight it threatened to snap, Chim elected to do something about it. “Jee-yun, look who’s here to see you!” he called, drawing the girl's attention from the snack table.

With one hand, Jee held a half-eaten slice of pizza. And as soon as her eyes landed on her uncle, she used the other to enthusiastically point at him.

Buck pointed back, matching her enthusiasm as he kneeled down to greet her as she ran for him. Closing the distance, he wrapped his hands around her as she practically flung herself into his arms.

“Oh, Jee—his shirt!” Maddie gasped, extracting the pizza before her daughter could smear anymore of  it down his sleeve.

“Ah, it’s alright,” Buck said, waving off his sister’s attempts to apologize, “I was just thinking about how boring this thing was anyways.”

“I made it better,” Jee concurred with a very serious nod. It quickly devolved into giggles as she made grabby hands at her mom for her pizza back.

Maddie eventually relented, handing the girl a napkin and paper plate before sending her on her merry way. And as Jee toddled off to regroup with all the friends she’d made in pre-school—growing up in what felt like the blink of an eye—Buck observed. And there was no bitterness. No sorrow. Just pure, unadulterated joy. Watching his niece get something he never got in those vulnerable years and just being so damn happy about it.

So, of course, his parents choose that exact moment to make their approach. Like it was their sixth sense or something.

“Evan,” his father greeted as he drew near, either ignorant or uncaring at how his son winced at the name, “forget to do laundry or something?”

Lips flattened in distaste, his mother gave the grease stain on his shoulder a particularly pointed nod.

Forcing a polite chuckle, Buck decided to leave it there. For his sake or theirs? Hard to say. But as both parties stood feet apart, plunged into an awkward silence neither quite knew how to fill... it didn’t feel like it particularly mattered.

The flash of discomfort in his expression must’ve shone with the subtlety of a thousand distress beacons, for Chim immediately came to his aid.

“Afraid that tends to come with the territory of ‘fun uncle’ duties,” the man said, clasping him on the back. And Buck didn't think the other would ever truly understand how grounding the gesture was. “I’d offer him a shirt, but we’re not exactly the same size. Maybe fifteen years ago.”

That time, Buck didn’t need to force a laugh. It came naturally and freely, washing away any lingering tension as Chim’s assist effortlessly redirected the conversation. Because he was fine. This was fine.

“Oh. Have you been putting on weight on purpose?” Margaret asked, casually cruel in a way she never seemed to be fully aware of. Somehow, that always made it worse.

Maddie seemed to concur. “Mom,” she snapped, patience already waning. They hadn’t even made it to lunch. That might’ve been a new record.

“What?” his mom asked in that exasperated tone she tended to take, throwing up her arms in a huff.

“It just looks like he’s doing that ‘bulking’ thing he’s always talking about,” Phillip said, like it were obvious. “We just assumed he hadn’t started cutting back yet. That’s all.”

In another life, Buck might’ve appreciated how quick his father was to come to his mother’s defense...

Not this one though.

Maddie, mustering an anger Buck couldn’t bring himself to feel, repeated back, “We, ” refusing to let the topic lie, “so this is something the two of you have talked about. Extensively.”

And as his parents stared back at his sister, at a loss for words, Buck remained deathly still. Because maybe if he didn’t move—maybe if he didn’t draw any undue attention—the threat would pass, and he’d come out of this just as unscathed as he entered. Like Jurassic Park. But as he watched Maddie stand ten toes down for him without even having to be asked...

“Yeah, mom,” he sighed, too tired to feel genuine offense anymore, “been focusing more on functional strength than bodybuilding. One’s a little more useful on the job. Also: I’m not twenty anymore. Bodies change.”

“Is that a recent decision? Last time we were here, you weren’t quite so...”

Holy. Shit.

“That’s probably just that healthy relationship weight gain everyone’s always talking about! I know for a fact I went up a pants size or two when me and Maddie were getting settled after the wedding,” Chim exclaimed, voice taking a nervous edge. Clasping Buck on the back, the desperation to change the topic really started to bleed through, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I will personally take the two of you pants shopping when you finally pick a date to tie the knot—”

“Howie,” Maddie said, paling.

And between his wife’s panicked reprimand, the matching looks of confusion from both Phillip and Margaret Buckley, and the way Buck stiffened beneath his touch...

Well. It didn’t exactly take Chim long to figure out why that was. “Buck...” he began, color all but drained from his face as he scrambled for an apology that’d be adequate.

“It’s fine,” Buck sighed, meaning it. Because—really—it wasn’t that big of a deal. Not when Chim hadn’t done it maliciously. And certainly not when he hadn’t even bothered taking off his engagement ring. Turning to his parents, he made the executive decision to bite the metaphorical bullet: “Uh, yeah. I’m engaged. Surprise?” He made sure to flash the ring they neglected to notice. You know. For good measure.

To his parent’s credit, it really looked like they did their best to take it in stride, his mother the first to venture, “So. We can assume everything’s going well with Thomas?”

“Thomas is... nice,” his father attempted, making a genuine effort to be supportive. “We like Thomas.”

Buck was a little unsure what to make of it. Regardless: “Tommy,” he corrected, because never in his life has he ever heard someone refer to him as Thomas . “And no. We broke up about a year ago. Give or take.”

There. Dead and done. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

Unbeknownst to him, however, his parents had chosen that random Tuesday afternoon to suddenly take an interest in his life.

Confusion turned to realization which quickly turned into tired resignation. “One year,” Margaret said with that stiff, disapproving frown he’d come to expect, “you got engaged one year into a relationship.”

“It was more like five months, actually,” he replied, the perfect symbol of aloof disinterest. And under vastly different circumstances, perhaps he’d take a little more smug satisfaction in the poetic justice of it all. But he didn’t. He didn’t really feel much of anything anymore. Not for them.

And for the briefest instant, it looked like his mom’s eyeballs were about to bulge out of her skull. When she finally collected herself enough to speak, everyone in the near vicinity braced themselves for what was about to tumble out.

“Did I mention I made potato salad?” Maddie cut in, trying but failing to steer the conversation away from the topic at hand. Or, at the very least: indoors and away from nearby children. “Because I made potato salad. So why don’t we all—” 

“I think what your mother is trying to say is,” Phillip quickly interjected, placing a steadying hand on his wife’s shoulder as he overshadowed Maddie’s attempt to diffuse the situation with his own, “don’t you think you might be jumping into this a little too fast?”

Well. Seven years of unintentional foreplay might’ve begged to differ. “No,” Buck said without missing a beat, “we were already living together anyways.”

“You’ve moved in together,” Phillip said, sounding more than a little dumbfounded. “Already?”

Buck could’ve laughed, because that was never the word they were met with. Usually, it was, ‘Finally.’ Or maybe the occasional, ‘About damn time. ’ But ‘Already?’ Like they were somehow rushing into things? It would’ve been amusing if it hadn’t been so insulting.

“This is actually pretty tame for the two of them,” Chim muttered to no one in particular.

His parents either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.

“And were you ever planning on telling us about him... her... whoever the hell!” Phillip demanded, voice steadily rising in volume, beginning to draw the attention of nearby passersby none of them knew well enough to involve in such a matter.

Even still, it didn’t stop Buck from firing back: “Why do you care so much?”

Balking, Margaret exclaimed, “We’re your parents.” And she said it like it should mean something.

Maybe it should’ve hurt more that it didn’t. Scoffing, Buck shook his head, “We talk like once a year.”

“The phone works both ways.”

And at that, a familiar rage boiled to the surface. The kind only they seemed able to provoke. “Surprised you’d know that seeing as you barely ever pick up,” Buck said, voice calm and collected, knowing damn well his face betrayed a seething fury he couldn’t hide. Even if his life depended on it.

“You never tell us anything—”

“Because you never ask—”

“Meat’s ready!” Bobby called, emerging with a platter of cooked chicken breasts and patties fresh off the grill, tactically placing himself between Buck and his father. “Whipped up a glaze last minute. Hope nobody minds.”

Given his father’s inclination for dry chicken, Buck sincerely doubted anyone would scorn the efforts of man who made stomaching it a little more bearable. Or even possible.

Struggling to shake himself from the mental haze clouding his judgment, Buck could do little else than watch as Maddie dutifully and frantically steered his parents toward the four folding tables they’d linked together, offering to make each of them a plate if it just got them over there and away from her little brother.

It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was everything, and nothing, and neither, and both all at once. And typically, that was his sign to cut his losses and leave before either side said something they couldn’t come back from.

That’s when he felt it. A gentle pressure at the base of his spine.

“Hey,” Eddie murmured at a volume reserved for no one but Buck; one hand rubbing soothing circles into his back while the other presented a plate packed with food as he emerged from the kitchen. “Chris and I went ahead and made you a plate. Chicken looked a little... iffy. So I left that up to your discretion. No offense, Bobby, I know you tried your best.”

“None taken,” the man waved him off, eyes wary as they glanced between Buck and his parents at the table. Noting the lingering tension, Bobby frowned. But as he opened his mouth to press the other on it, Chim approached.

Face pale and tail adequately tucked between his legs, there wasn’t any doubt about what was plaguing him, “Buck—”

“It’s fine,” he reassured once more, hoping that this time, it stuck, “not like they weren’t gonna find out eventually.”

Expression pained, Chim argued back, “But that should’ve been your choice.”

And it was a nice thought, really, it was. But it just wasn’t necessary. “Don’t worry about it,” Buck said with a good-natured shake of his head, “you just saved me the trouble.”

“And besides: you didn’t even tell him who he was engaged to,” Eddie offered, clasping Chim on the shoulder. Then, with a glint in his eyes and a tone only meant for the three of them, “Saved us the fun part.”

Astounded, Chim simply blinked back, “Is that a threat?”

But Eddie remained silent; it felt like an answer enough in its own right. Exchanging a knowing glance with Buck, the two began making their way to the table.

“Why’d that sound like a threat?” Chim called after them, tone tinged in despair. With a tired huff as he resigned himself to this fate, he fished his phone from his back pocket, skulking back inside as he mentally prepared himself for round two with that sales rep.

Bobby gave him a comforting pat on the back on his way by, eyes never leaving the duo as they approached the table. Lips fixed in a pensive frown, Bobby craned his neck around the patio, likely in search of his wife.

“So,” Eddie trailed once they were well out of earshot, “what are we hiding from your parents? Just so we’re on the same page.”

And Buck couldn’t help the way his gaze instinctually drifted over to the source of it all. Margaret and Phillip Buckley sat, plates made up and engaged in polite conversation with anyone willing to stop and listen. And all it would take was a single glance. An inkling of care and concern that’d compel them to look over and see the man with his hand against their son’s lower back, gently guiding him as far away as he could possibly seat him. But with all Jee’s friends occupying one end of the table and his parents sitting comfortably in the middle...

It wasn’t nearly far enough.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he muttered, far more petulantly than he’d have liked. Far more petulantly than Eddie had deserved. “It’s not my fault they don’t pay attention enough to notice.”

Pulling the chair out for the other, Eddie took the one right next to him on the opposite side of the table from Buck’s parents. And as the old couple sat there, two chairs away as they refused to look over and acknowledge what was plain to see before their very eyes...

“You might have a point,” Eddie muttered, taking a stab at the potato salad packed onto his plate. In fact, his plate consisted of pretty much only potato salad. “You’ve got the recipe for this, right?” he asked, humming in content as he shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.

“Nope,” Buck said, “my mom only ever got around to giving it to Maddie.”

Jaw clenching, Eddie immediately stopped chewing. Deliberating. Contemplating. Eyes drifting towards his napkin as if deciding just how spiteful he was willing to be in that moment.

“If it helps,” Buck chuckled, turning his attention back to his own plate, “I’m pretty sure it was my grandma’s first.”

Relaxing, Eddie eventually forced himself to swallow, “It does. Thank you.”

Chuckling, Buck replied, “Kinda ridiculous you’re so miffed about liking something my mom made considering who you’re marrying.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because,” Eddie began, leaning in close as he murmured to him and him only, “there’s a whole lot of things you can do for me that a potato salad can’t.”

A moment passed as Buck simply stared. Then, “Hot,” he snorted, wondering just what the hell he’d done in life to deserve someone like Eddie Diaz.

The two sat there snickering amongst themselves until the chair next to Buck’s was being pulled out, someone taking their seat beside him. Scooting his chair in, Chris had a little more variety on his plate than his father. Still... it was mostly just potato salad.

“You have the recipe for this, right?” the boy asked, not wasting any time before digging in.

Fondness spreading throughout his entire being, Buck replied, “I’ll get it from Maddie before we leave.”

Denny and Mara took the chairs opposite to their friend, plates with far more variety than the Diaz boys. Though, that variety might’ve proven more of a curse than a blessing, because as soon as Mara took a bite into the chicken on her plate, her face scrunched up in ineffable disgust. Slowly and deliberately chewing it. Deciding in real time if she should cut her losses and spit it back out onto her plate.

Buck pitied her. Truly. Because if memory served him well—as it typically did—it would’ve been like chewing cardboard. Unseasoned, dry cardboard. The kind that not even Bobby Nash could save.

Ultimately, Mara’s manners won out above all else. Swallowing the chicken with a grimace, she stared at the plate before her like it’d personally spited her. Pushing it away with a rueful shake of her head, “The chickens didn’t deserve this.”

“Can we just drink the glaze next time?” Denny muttered, standing up to go get him and his sister some slightly burned pizza, assuming any was still left.

The rest of the 118 slowly but surely filed over: Hen and Karen taking their seats next to their kids, and Bobby and Athena sitting down next to Eddie—directly across from Phillip and Margaret.

“I wanna sit with Mara!” Buck heard Jee exclaim. Looking over, he watched as Chim held her plate with one hand while being led with the other.

Mara looked just as ecstatic as Jee once the girl crawled into the chair next to hers, the two immediately launching into a conversation that some of Jee’s nearby friends enthusiastically joined.

With Jee settled, Chim found his seat next. With the chairs next to his in-laws occupied by people Buck didn’t recognize, he instead opted for the ones next to Bobby and Athena, reserving the one next to him for Maddie.

His sister came out of the house soon after, carrying the pie Buck had brought for his mom. And as she set it down in front of the woman in question, lips curled into an anxious smile, Margaret gasped, clasping her hands together in delight.

Buck felt something in his chest loosen at that. He didn’t know what. He didn’t even know why.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, he decided to busy himself with something else. “Chris, you need to eat something other than potato salad,” he sighed, using a fork to scoop a handful of green beans from his plate onto the boy’s.

“I am,” he groaned, attempting to swat off Buck’s attempts while gesturing to the only other food item there.

“Hawaiian rolls don’t count,” he said, giving him some of his sweet potato casserole as well. “Come on. You’ve been eating like a frat dude all week. At least try the—”

“God, Evan, lay off the kid,” Phillip called from across the table, drawing the attention of all those nearby, “you’re acting like you’re his dad or something.”

The air felt tense. Suffocating. And Buck hadn’t been aware the man had been watching him that closely. It made him wonder just what else he’d been looking close enough to notice, and had just decided not to openly address.

He felt the pressure of someone’s hand on his thigh, giving him a comforting squeeze. It was the only warning he got before: “Hey. Chris’ dad here. Name’s Eddie—we’ve met a couple times already. Thanks for your concern, but Buck’s fine.” But based on his tone and the irritated pinch in his brow, it didn’t seem like it was. Though...

 Not for the reasons his parents might’ve thought.

Chris grumbled something rude under his breath as he moved some more green beans from the man’s plate and onto his. Then the sweet potato casserole. Then some watermelon. It all felt rather spiteful, in Buck’s humble opinion, and the scowl plastered on the boy’s face certainly didn’t help.

And Buck doesn’t think the boy has ever looked more like his father than in that moment. The resemblance was uncanny, and Eddie was pulling an identical look as he stared his parents down from across the table. Daring them to say something.

They never did, mumbling their quiet apologies as they went back to eating and making conversation with those around them. If anyone found it odd that Eddie ate the rest of lunch with one hand beneath the table, no one called him on it.

With lunch concluding as everyone polished off their plates, it wasn’t long until Chim got the cake from the kitchen as Maddie lit the candles. And as everyone sang happy birthday, Jee sat and listened, swinging her feet with a wide grin as she basked in the attention.

“Ok,” Maddie announced, the singing concluded and the candles blown, “cake then presents! We have pie for anyone who wants that instead.” And as she grabbed a cake server, Athena rose from her seat to help distribute the slices.

Margaret didn’t wait for her daughter as she grabbed the other plastic server, pulling the pie pan close to her. Dragging the edge across the pie crust, the woman gave a pleased hum, “This is beautiful, Maddie. Really. Phenomenal work.”

Head snapping up from where she’d busied herself with the cake, Maddie’s eyes widened in surprise. Like it’d been the only compliment the woman had bothered to pay her all day. “Actually,” she said once she’d collected herself enough, handing two heaping slices of cake over to Mara and Denny, “Buck made it.”

Their mother froze, stopping before she could cut out a second slice. Eyeing the slice on her plate, he wondered if she was aware of the face she pulled. How wary she looked.

“Yep. Bobby sent me the recipe a while back,” Buck said instead of addressing it as he forced a smile, “I’ve been meaning to try it out.”

Whether the recipe coming from Bobby instead of her son helped in any way remained unclear. Regardless, the woman remained perfectly cordial... sort of. “Well, it must be nice to have so much free time,” she said, lips tight around her smile, “did you want a slice?” She attempted to hand him a plate. The one she’d grabbed for herself.

“No, thank you,” Buck replied, face and voice devoid of any emotion—negative or otherwise, “I’m allergic to apples.”

Pausing, she blinked down at the slice of pie she’d presented him. “You’re not allergic to apples,” she chuckled, shaking her head, “you’re allergic to pine nuts.”

“No. Maddie’s allergic to pine nuts.”

Stricken by the random lore drop, Chim turned to his wife and asked, “You’re allergic to pine nuts?”

Blinking back at him, Maddie gave a confused shake of her head, “No? They just make my throat itch.”

Stunned, Chim began asking his many, many follow-up questions that Buck tuned out. Because as he watched his mom reluctantly retract her slice of pie, handing it off to his father, he noted the fact she never made a move to grab another one.

Which was fine. Totally fine. Probably fair too—it was his first attempt at making something like that anyways. A little apprehension was perfectly normal and—

“Phillip,” Bobby suddenly called, words slicing through his doubts like a finely-tuned bladed, “mind passing that over for the rest of us?”

Blanking, it took Buck’s father a moment to process what he was being asked. Mind finally catching up, he passed the pan over with a firm nod.

Pie in hand, Bobby didn’t waste any time divvying out the slices as his wife took over for Maddie with the cake.

Walking around the table to find her seat, Maddie sunk into her chair with a sigh, eyes darting between her brother and parents. Already exhausted from the emotional labor she was anticipating. And also Chim’s incessant line of questioning about what other allergies she might’ve been hiding from him.

Bobby was one of the first to take a bite, humming his content as he chewed. “This is great, Buck,” he said, reaching over to pat him on the back, “you did good.”

The gesture coupled with the earnestness of his expression... it fixed something in him. Something brittle and fractured and pleading for reprieve ever since he was old enough to remember. And as he looked at his father, seeing his slice of pie already half eaten without so much as a head nod of commendation, he couldn’t find it himself to care anymore. It was... nice. It was really nice.

So of course, that’s when the other shoe finally decided to drop:

“Oh my God, I’m stealing you,” Karen practically moaned as she took another bite of pie, “I’m breaking into yours and Eddie’s house in the dead of night, and I’m stealing you.”

A hush fell over their section of the table, the kind that even some of the kids noticed. Hen and Karen looked at each other. Then at Buck and Eddie. Then at the thunderous expressions of Margaret and Phillip. But as Hen opened her mouth to request some clarification, one look from Chim had her snapping it shut.

“So,” Margaret began, voice strained as she turned her attention to Eddie, eying the engagement ring he’d made no attempt at hiding, “you’re the man Evan’s been living with.”

Grabbing his drink, Buck busied himself downing it, pointedly avoiding his father’s piercing gaze from across the table. And maybe it was the coward’s way out, but all things considered: he’s pretty sure he’s earned it. Just this once.

“We’ve been doing a little more than ‘living with’ each other,” Eddie shrugged, ignoring the way Buck choked on his drink, “but sure. That’s me.”

And whatever the woman made of that, she dutifully kept it to herself. Verbally, at least. Visibly? Well... the Buckley’s always were a bit of an open book. Every last one of them.

But just because his mom was willing to keep her mouth shut, that hadn’t meant his dad was: “Don’t you think it might be a little early for all...” Phillip trailed, gesturing between his son and his fiancé as he struggled to find the words, eventually settling on, “this?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eddie shrugged, giving the man nothing. Not an inflection in his voice. Not an ounce of emotion. Nothing.

Frustration palpable as he searched the table for an assist only to never receive it, he exclaimed, “Moving in with one another, for starters. To do all of this, unmarried, with a child involved—”

“Dad,” Maddie interjected, calm but firm, “Howie and I weren’t engaged when we moved in together or when we got pregnant with Jee, and you didn’t seem to have an issue with that then.” And as she spoke, her tone left no room for argument.

But that hadn’t meant their dad wasn’t willing to try: “That was different.”

“Because they’re engaged?”

“Because she’s yours.”

And it felt like a punch to the gut. One that emptied Buck’s lungs, leaving him hollowed out and off-kilter. Because even now—even after everything—it still hurt. It still managed to chip away at him, leaving him bare and vulnerable. And he feared it always would.

Maddie flinched like she’d been slapped, Hen and Karen froze, Chim was sweating like he was getting ready to diffuse a bomb while Bobby’s face went hard like stone. And Eddie...

Eddie.

Calmly removing the paper napkin on his lap, the vague passive aggression had been replaced with full-blown hostility. And if someone hadn’t known Eddie like Buck had, they’d have thought he was getting ready to fly over the table to throttle someone. Fortunately, it hadn’t come to that. Unfortunately, however:

“Who gives a shit?” Chris snapped much to the shock and horror of every adult nearby. In attendance at a five year-olds birthday. With their five year-old children.

“Christopher,” Eddie said, sharp and disapproving. It’d been less about what he said and more about how he said it. The glares he’d received from a handful of disgruntled parents he’d yet to formally meet probably hadn’t helped.

Rolling his eyes, Chris threw himself back in his seat with a frustrated pant, crossing his arms across his chest and turning his head so he didn’t have to look at his dad. Skulking. Knowing full well the man would be sitting him down later and addressing which words were appropriate for which settings.

Phillip and Margaret sat in stunned silence, watching it all unfold with morbid curiosity. As if it had nothing to do with them. As if they hadn’t directly caused it. But beneath that, hidden behind the wide eyed stares and the tight lipped frowns, was something far worse. Something adjudicating and conclusory.

Something that Eddie must’ve seen too; jaw tightening and shoulders tensing, whatever anger it inspired was gone as soon as it had arrived, leaving him with a resigned sigh. Because they were at a five year-old’s birthday party, and those were going to be his future in-laws. Legally. Whether he liked it or not.

That subtle, smug satisfaction on his parent’s face had Buck gripping his drink a little tighter. And now that he really got to thinking about it... maybe Eddie wasn’t the one they had to worry about leaping across the table.

Thankfully, Bobby intervened before he got the chance to test that theory: “I think what Christopher is getting at is that for a lot of people, family is the people you choose who choose you back. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

And with the way his father huffed at that, he must’ve thought it was the most ridiculous thing in the world, “Well, of course, but—”

“So you think that just because a family isn’t blood related, it’s somehow worth less than one that is?” Hen asked, words taking a sharp edge. Not nearly as diplomatic as Bobby had been and for good reason. “What about adopted families? Parents, children, siblings... none of which are biologically related to one another. Those wouldn’t be considered real families to you?”

Karen’s eyes carried not an ounce of warmth as she stared the man down from next to her wife, hand reaching over to place a hand on Mara’s shoulder, almost daring the man to say the wrong thing.

And whether it was genuine remorse or the fact he knew he was vastly outnumbered, the outcome was the same. Phillip relented, “No. Of course not. My apologies.”

The table was plunged into a bout of uncomfortable silence. The only thing left to fill it was the laughter of children on one end of the table and the polite conversation being made on the other end.

It wasn’t until Athena finished passing out the cake, taking her seat beside her husband, that the conversation stood a chance at flowing again. Making a delighted ‘oh!’ as she laid eyes on the piece of pie Bobby had set aside for her before even plating his own, she gave his cheek a quick peck as her way of showing thanks.

“Now. What’d I miss?” she announced, something in her demeanor suggesting she’d been fully aware of the tension but was actively ignoring it. And although it’d been a question open to the group as a whole, she’d been looking at Margaret when she said. Her tone was not unkind, but there’d been tightness around her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

The woman in question cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly in her seat at the sudden shift of attention. And now that she had it, she was clearly determined to foist it onto someone else.

“So... Eddie,” she began, doing her best to hide her disdain but failing miserably. And knowing his mom, Buck couldn’t be sure if it was out of genuine dislike in his choice of fiancé, or just general distaste of being forced to use his nickname. “I don’t believe you or Evan ever mentioned a wedding date.”

“That’s right,” Eddie replied, not even bothering to look at her, “we didn’t.”

“We’re still picking one out,” Buck interjected, resigning himself to the role of mediator to give Maddie a much deserved break.

Brows raised, the admission came as a pleasant surprise. “Oh. That’s... nice. Very nice. Your father and I had a long engagement as well,” his mom replied, “nothing wrong in taking your time to make sure it’s a good fit.”

One day, Buck would figure out once and for all if she did it intentionally...

“I had the ring picked out after the fourth date,” Eddie suddenly said, not giving the other a chance to intervene on his behalf. He didn’t even sound angry. Just determined. “I’d marry him today if he wanted to.”

And something inside Buck—something desperate and wanting—didn’t think that idea sounded half bad. Like, sure, there were some logistics they’d have to work through, mainly: how not to steal his niece’s thunder on her own birthday. But right now, those just felt like semantics. Because what had Bobby said? 'Family is the people you choose who choose you back’?

Well, Buck decided he rather liked the feeling of being chosen.

Reaching underneath the table, he put his hand on Eddie’s knee, rubbing small circles into him with his thumb. The man relaxed beneath the touch, brown eyes flooded with warmth as he met the other. And as the corners of his mouth upturned into a soft smile, Buck felt peace.

“But...” his mother trailed, expression laced with what looked like genuine confusion, “why?”

“Mom,” Maddie snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose, “could you just—”

Buck deadpanned a quick, “Tax break,” just as Eddie simpered, “Second TV for the bedroom.” Because an unserious question deserved an unserious answer. Because if given the opportunity, he’s pretty sure Eddie and him would exchange kidneys if it meant living inside one another for the rest of their natural lives.

“Well,” Phillip started, roughly clearing his throat as he ignored every frigid stare he was met with, “I think I speak for both your mother and I when I tell you boys congratulations, and that we’re very happy for you.”

... huh. It really was like pulling teeth for them, wasn’t it? All that, just to eventually settle on something mildly supportive if not a little strained. But it was fine. He was willing to move past it, and everything would be fi—

“Just don’t expect me to walk you down the aisle,” Phillip laughed, looking around like he expected the rest to agree.

And when no one did, glancing at one another in shock, confusion, and hurt on his behalf... it’d been the last straw:

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Buck said, as if discussing something as inconsequential as the weather, “I’d ask Bobby.”

The man in question made a choking noise from where he sat, one seat between him and Buck. And when he turned to look at him, eyes wide and shining with unshed emotion, it had the younger man feeling exposed. Vulnerable. Unsure of how the man had taken that and what to do next.

“You’d ask your boss...” Philip slowly began once he’d recovered enough from his initial shock and disbelief, “to walk you down the aisle. During your wedding.”

“Uh, yep,” Buck stammered, unable to keep the tremor building in his hands, “assuming he wanted to. Obviously.”

“I-I... of course I—” came Bobby’s reply only for the words to be choked back by emotion. But as his wife placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, the softness of her expression giving him the strength and reassurance to continue, he did, “Of course I’d want to walk you down the aisle, Buck.”

“Yeah, um,” Buck acknowledged with a stiff nod, throat tight and voice cracking, “alright then. I guess that’s settled.” Like he hadn’t just torn his heart from its cavity and chucked it at the man’s feet with a wet SPLAT.

And instead of handing it back to him with a grimace he’d come to expect from every previous occupant of that paternal role, Bobby didn’t. He leaned down, gingerly taking it in both hands, and held it like it was something to be protected. Something to be treasured.

Phillip’s eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange, whether out of jealousy or personal embarrassment... who the hell even knew at that point, “Is this because your mother and I didn’t take being blindsided by your engagement as well as you thought we should?”

And as soon a he'd found his voice again, Buck sighed, “It didn’t exactly help.” Because he didn’t know how to break it to the man that he hadn’t even been in the running.

But despite his attempts at shielding his father’s pride, they went entirely unappreciated as the man scoffed, “How do you expect us to take all of that in stride? We were given no warning,” then, throwing an accusing gesture in Eddie’s direction that had Buck bristling on his behalf, “he didn’t even bother to ask us first—”

Athena entered the conversation like a hammer striking steel, “And I’m sure if asking you two was something that mattered to Buck, Eddie would’ve.”

Both Margaret and Phillip’s heads snapped over to the woman who’d been mostly staying out of things up until that point. Because just because Athena had previously been little else than a silent observer, that hadn’t meant she planned for things on staying that way. Like someone taking the time to line up their shot just to make sure it connected.

This time, Margaret was the one rushing to the other’s defense: “This isn’t about E—” This isn’t about Evan . That’s what she had wanted to say, only managing to catch herself last second. Coughing awkwardly as every cold, hard stare at the table turned to her at once, “This isn’t about that. This is about doing what’s right. About giving the parents a little warning before—”

And Buck just couldn’t stand for it anymore. The lies. The misplaced belief that that was something the two of them would have actually and earnestly wanted.

His next words came out in the form of a sneer, “So you’re telling me that if Eddie had personally called to ask for your blessing, you—Phillip and Margaret Buckley—wouldn’t have found it off-putting? Not even a little bit?” He hadn’t meant for it to sound so accusatory, yet here they were.

As it would turn out, he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the anger he couldn’t quite stamp out:  

“Well, who the hell wouldn’t be a little put off by that!” Phillip finally snapped, jostling the table as he threw up his hands, as if asking what the hell everyone wanted from him.

And it shouldn’t have hurt so much. Not now. Not after everything. But it did. And as he looked anywhere but at his parents, he inadvertently found Jee-yun looking back at him with the wide-eyed, confused stare of a child wondering why the adults in her life couldn’t seem to get along. So, swallowing down the bile that threatened to claw its way up his throat, Buck began pushing out his seat to collect himself and leave. Because he was a lot of things, but he was not someone willing to ruin his niece’s birthday party. Not for this. Not for them.

Maddie, sensing where his mind had gone, had risen from her seat as well to stop him, “Ok, you know what? Why don’t we all—”

“They weren’t,” Eddie said, expression innocuous as the table fell silent, everyone turning to face him with varying looks of surprise and confusion.

Mind blank and brow furrowing, Buck was the first to venture, “... what?”

“Bobby and Athena,” he casually supplied, ignoring the way Buck’s parents balked at the reveal. He didn’t spare them a single glance. He only had eyes for Buck, “They weren’t put-off when I asked if they’d be ok with me marrying you.”

“You asked Bobby and Athena,” Buck began, not yet trusting his voice to not give out, choked by the emotion that had grabbed him by the throat and squeezed, “for their blessing?”

“Like Athena said: if it was something that I thought mattered to you,” Eddie replied, like anything else would’ve been entirely inconceivable, “I’d do it.”

And it mattered. It mattered in ways Buck himself could not yet fully comprehend. Tears pricking his eyes in a way he knew would embarrass him later, he looked up to the sky and focused on the passing clouds. It was all he could do to keep himself from openly crying. Though, based on the sniffles a couple seats down, it sounded like Maddie had beaten him to the punch.

“To be perfectly upfront,” Eddie leaned in close to whisper, and Buck could practically hear him smiling, “I would’ve married you even if they’d said no.”

“We were never going to say no,” Athena chuckled, rubbing her hand soothingly across Bobby’s back. Her husband was right on track to losing the battle Buck was about to and Maddie already had.

Giving a shaky laugh as he wiped his eyes, Buck managed to ask, “Did Bobby cry then too?”

“Maybe just a little.”

It was the last thing the man needed—permission almost—for the dam to finally burst. Rising from his seat, Bobby politely excused himself as he made a beeline for the kitchen, doing a pretty solid job holding it together until he was indoors.

And as Margaret and Phillip sat there, watching their son’s life unfold from the outside looking in, you’d have thought it would have given them enough pause for some much needed introspection. And you’d have thought wrong.

His mother was the first to break that laughably short ceasefire, opening her mouth to say, “I just don’t understand how—”

“You don’t have to,” Maddie interrupted, eyes misty but resolve like stone, “mom, dad... I think you should leave.”

“You’d let me know if you wanted me too though, right?”

“Wanted to what?”

“Kick them out.”

In the end, Buck hadn’t even needed to ask. Perhaps deep down, Maddie knew that he wouldn’t.

“Maddie,” their father said in protest, for what little good it did at that point.

Shaking her head, Maddie held up a hand that demanded silence, “No. We’re not talking about it here. Meet me inside.” Without waiting for their input or approval, she headed indoors, knowing that they’d follow.

To their credit, they did. Something in their daughter’s tone telling them not to try her any further than they already had. The only solace they might’ve been afforded was the fact Mara had taken it upon herself to distract Jee-yun with animated conversation, saving them the embarrassment of their granddaughter watching as they walked themselves to the verbal lashing that no doubt awaited them.

Closing the doors behind them, the group could only imagine the words exchanged from Maddie’s frenzied hand movements from the other side of the glass doors.

“I better go make sure things don’t get too out of hand in there,” Chim sighed as he walked over, poking his head indoors to get a read on the situation. Whatever he found, he almost looked relieved, calling over his shoulder, “Jee-yun, grandma and grandpa are heading out a little early! Wanna come over here and say goodbye to them?”

And Jee did so unfazed, toddling over to her dad with a smile that refused to dim, unaware of the spectacle directly preceding it.

“Good riddance...” Christopher muttered, shoulders relaxing for the first time since sitting down for lunch.

“Chris,” Eddie sighed, but there was no real heat behind it.

“Sorry,” he snorted, not sounding very sorry at all.

“While they’re doing that,” Athena announced, rising from her chair as well, “I think I’m gonna go on ahead and check on Bobby.”

And with just Buck, Eddie, Hen, and Karen remaining at their section of the table, the eyes of every miscellaneous attendee who’d take it upon themselves to eavesdrop in their little ‘spat’ bore into them.

“So,” Hen began, awkwardly coughing, “anyone want more pie?”

Denny and Mara were the only ones to raise their hands.

Sighing, Hen tried again, “Anyone who hasn’t already eaten their weight in cake today?”

The hands went down.

“I’m gonna go check on Bobby too,” Buck suddenly said, rising from his chair and heading outside. Eddie had called after him, and later, he’d apologize for how he’d chosen to blatantly ignore that.

One foot through the doors, what greeted him had been very different than what he’d been expecting. His parents were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he walked in as Maddie and Chim were having a very serious, very hushed conversation with their daughter.

Buck cleared his throat, alerting them to his presence before he heard something he shouldn’t.

All three heads turned to look at him—Jee brightening while neither Chim nor Maddie looked all that surprised he followed them in. But before his niece got the chance to run over, making her excitement known, Chim placed a gentle hand on her arm to stop her.

“I think your mom and Uncle Buck have a couple things they need to talk about,” he said, picking her up, “but they’ll be back outside in just a minute, ok?”

Jee gave a very serious nod with the awareness of a child much older than she’d been. And as her dad passed her uncle with her in his arms, she said to Buck very matter-of-factly, “It’s my birthday. You can’t be sad on my birthday.”

It managed to startle a laugh out of him, warmth spreading through his chest, “Ok, Jee. I won’t. I promise.”

Happy with his answer, she giggled back at him as Chim carried her through the doors. The latter of which making sure to give Buck an affirming, knowing nod before closing them behind him.

That left Buck and Maddie in the living room. Alone.

“Maddie,” Buck began, scrambling for an apology, “I’m so sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she said with a fire in her eyes. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

And Buck wished that was enough to soothe the jumble of emotions tumbling in his stomach, making him ill, “I still feel like I should.”

Shaking her head, her eyes got misty once more, “Why? Because they were given multiple chances to quit while they were ahead, and didn’t take a single one? I should’ve kicked them out after the thing with the weight. I shouldn’t have waited until they...”

“You wanted a family,” he said. Because didn’t they all? “A family with grandparents for your daughter and—”

“But not at your expense,” she replied, wiping her tears before they could fall, “never at your expense.”

And something in Buck fractured at the admission. Something already brittle and broken beyond repair, “Nothing’s ever going to be easy with them. Is it.”

“No. No, I don’t think it will,” Maddie answered truthfully, no matter how much it hurt. Then, eyes drifting past Buck into the kitchen, her eyes softened as she smiled at something, “But I’m starting to think that’s ok.”

Turning around, Buck found Bobby staring back at him. “Were you crying?” he asked.

Chuckling with red rimmed eyes, Bobby gave a small shake of his head, “Careful with those stones in that glass house of yours.”

Sniffling, Buck made a half-assed attempt at wiping his own tears as Maddie hugged him.

“I’d never want them here over you,” she whispered before heading back outside to join the rest of the party, making sure to give Bobby a grateful nod on her way out.

And as the two men stood there, with so much to say with no way to say it, Buck decided he’d be the first to take that plunge:

“Sorry to spring all that on you,” he managed, because it hadn’t been fair—he’d known it hadn’t been fair—and he’d done it anyway. To spite his father. To shock his mother. Even though, deep down, he knew he’d meant every word. That if he was going to pick anyone to do that, it’d be Bobby. That he wouldn’t have said it if it hadn’t been true.

But the man didn’t react. He just stood there. Listening. Observing.

Shifting awkwardly, Buck continued, “I should’ve talked to you about it before... I mean, we haven’t even decided on whether or not we’re actually going to have a wedding. We might just elope—”

“You’re not going to elope,” Bobby said with an exasperated sigh.

The certainty of his tone had Buck prickling. Just a little bit. “We might.”

“Buck,” Bobby said, firmer than before, “you and Eddie are not going to elope.”

And... damnit. He was right. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered. Then, brow furrowing, he asked, “But how did you know?”

“Remember that bridal shop that caught fire last week?”

“Yeah?”

“Caught you taking pictures of prices on centerpieces.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Bobby laughed, “so do us all a favor and pick a date. If not for your sake, then for Athena’s—she’s getting restless. And she’s not the only one.”

“I bet,” Buck said, thinking back to the sheer amount of probing from their group in the last week alone.

Bobby seemed acutely aware of this detail as well, giving him a knowing smile and a reassuring pat on the back, “We just want to see you two happy. And... I meant what I said before. I would be honored to walk you down the aisle if that was something you and Eddie end up doing.” He hadn’t gotten nearly as choked up as he had before.

Neither had Buck. “Yeah. I meant what I said too,” he grinned, feeling lighter somehow. Because while he still wasn’t sure that’d be the direction they were heading in with their wedding, on the chance that it was... well, it was nice to know there’d be someone he could ask. Someone other than Phillip Buckley. “Athena ever get around to checking up on you?”

Looking weirdly... shifty , Bobby gave a confused frown that Buck didn’t believe for a second, “No? Haven’t seen her.”

Buck regarded the man oddly, wondering if he’d always been such a bad liar.

That’s when he heard it. The sound of voices muffled by the thick oak of the front door. And they were getting louder.

Buck didn’t say a word. Just stared at the man. Raising a skeptical brow.

Sighing, Bobby didn’t try and stop him as he made his way to the door. Instead, “I’ll let Eddie know you’ll be a second.”

“And I’ll let Athena know you did your best.”

Waving him off, Bobby left Buck to his devices. Devices he used to press his ear against the door and listen in to whatever snippets he could catch:

“... you don’t know what it’s like! You don’t know what it did to us having to look him in the eyes every day, wondering if Daniel would’ve looked the same—”

“And I pray I never have to, and I am very sorry for your loss. But that does not give you the right to take your grief out on your children. Because that boy has spent his entire life wondering why he wasn’t deserving of your love, thinking it had something to do with him. But it’s not because he wasn’t good enough. It’s because you weren’t.”

Everything went silent after that. Nobody made a sound. Buck wasn’t even sure he was still breathing. Then:

“You have a wonderful son,” the voice—Athena’s voice—said after the suffocating pause, “and if you’d made any sort of effort with him, I wouldn’t be the one having to tell you that.”

There was another bout of silence, this one longer than the last. Eventually, it was followed by some quiet, muffled murmurs he couldn’t make out. They almost sounded... apologetic? But before Buck had gotten the chance to consider it for long, the door swung open, and he was met with the shocked stares of both his parents and Athena.

The latter of which narrowed her eyes at him. Unimpressed. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” she asked.

Glancing between the woman and the gawking faces of his parents... Buck eventually sighed, “Guess no one ever got around to it.”

“Evan—” Margaret tried only to be immediately cut off.

“Buck. I’ve asked you to call me Buck.”

“Buck,” she said after a moment, unable to hide her wince upon the mild concession. Steeling herself with a breath, she tried to continue, “your father and I... we... and you...”

And as her words trailed off into nothing, her eyes pleaded for her son to fill the silence she failed to. Pleaded for him to understand where she was coming from.

He did not.

Lips pulled into a frown as she forced a stiff nod, the woman finally finished, words detached and aloof, “We hope you have a lovely wedding.” And with that, she took her husband by the arm and left without so much as a simple goodbye.

“I guess that solves that then,” Buck said, watching as his parents pulled out of the driveway in their rental car. His dad watched him through the windshield, and he watched him back until the other broke eye contact first. “Wedding planning just got a whole lot easier.”

Stricken by the words, Athena turned to him like she’d just been slapped, “Don’t tell me they were the reason...”

“I didn’t want to deal with figuring out whether or not they’d get an invite,” he admitted, loathing the feeling of shame that accompanied it. “I didn’t want them there, but it felt weird not to have my parents at something like that, you know?”

Humming a quiet acknowledgement as she studied him, dissecting him with nothing but her eyes, she asked, “And do you still feel that way?”

Buck didn’t even need to think about his answer: “No. Because, uh... because I’ve got you and Bobby now. And I care about having you two around more than I think I’ve ever cared about them.”

And for a moment, neither said a word. But before Buck could wonder if he’d been too honest too fast...

He laughed, pulling her into a full body hug, “Why’s everyone crying so much today?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Athena replied, blinking away the tears before they could fully form, “I’ve just got a little dust in my eyes, is all.”

“Well,” Buck said as he pulled away, “why don’t we head back outside then. Seeing as it’s so ‘dusty’ here.”

“Oh, hush.”

It just made him laugh harder.

“Alright, time for presents!” he heard Chim call from the patio door, a gaggle of cheers erupting from the announcement quickly followed by a stampede of tiny feet. And as everyone else slowly but surely made their way indoors, getting settled around Jee’s impressive pile of presents, Buck drifted through the living room until he found exactly who he’d been looking for.

“Hey,” Eddie said, face brightening as soon as he saw him, “everything alri—”

“I want to get married,” Buck said, not nearly as eloquently as he’d been planning. Then again, he’d never exactly been someone to wax poetic.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, more or less recovered from his initial surprise, “I hope so.”

“No, Eddie, like... I want to get married.”

“I know.”

“Like, married.”

“I know.”

“No! Married—”

“Buck,” Eddie said, hand instinctively reaching out to touch the other’s waist. And when he knew he’d finally gotten his attention, he continued, “I saw you checking out those centerpieces last week. I know. I promise.”

 “Oh,” he breathed, nodding along like he understood, “ok then. Yeah, I just... why didn’t you say something?”

“Figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” the other shrugged. Though, there was stiffness there that Buck hadn’t liked. Not one bit. And something in his face must’ve given it away, for soon enough, Eddie sighed, “I didn’t wanna push you. In case you were having second thoughts.”

The admission might as well have knocked Buck flat on his ass. Because the idea that Eddie—who wanted more—would continue to have him like this if it meant having him at all...

“You know this is it for me, right?” Buck murmured, wrapping his arm around the other’s shoulder just to pull him closer, “I’m never gonna want anything else. This is it. I want you.”

And despite deep down having known that, Eddie still relaxed beneath his touch. Then, so quiet he almost missed it, “I meant what I said. Earlier with your parents.”

Curious, Buck looked at him in question.

“About... marrying you today. If you wanted to.”

... oh.

“I mean,” Eddie stammered, uncharacteristically nervous, “plenty of people elope and then have a wedding anyways, right?”

“Right.”

“And the courthouse doesn’t close until five.”

“Yeah.”

“And we have plenty of witnesses.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

“Are we...”

“I think we might...”  

Eddie stared at Buck, and Buck stared at Eddie. And as the gears started turning, faces breaking into wicked grins as they each reached the same conclusion....

Chim came rolling into the living room driving a hot pink Power Wheels Barbie Jeep Wrangler. And if the delighted squeal of the birthday girl was anything to go by: he’d knocked it out of the park.

Suddenly bashful, Buck winced, “Or maybe...”

“Maybe we let your five-year old niece have her special day to herself,” Eddie finished with a resolute nod. No arguments there. But that hadn’t meant he was willing to let the issue rest, turning to the other to ask, “What about tomorrow?”

The feeling that overcame Buck in that moment was all-consuming, exuding from every pore. It was euphoria. Elation. And it wasn’t just from watching Jee excitedly clamor into her new ride only to immediately use it to try and run over her father.

“Yeah,” Buck said, laugh tapering off into a smile as he reached down to squeeze Eddie’s hand, “tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“I know.”

And as they held each other’s hands as Jee tore into the rest of her presents, they did so with the force of two men intent on never letting the other go.