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“Dad?”
“Mm?”
“How do you know you’re not, like, in love with Buck?”
Eddie nearly chops his fucking finger off. He pauses where he’s prepping carrots for dinner. He collects himself. He looks up. “Sorry?”
Christopher looks right at him and repeats the question. “How do you know you just want to be best friends with Buck, and not date him?”
He has somehow ended up in the middle of a test he hasn’t studied for. He has dreams about this. He has nightmares. “I - - why are you asking?”
Christopher shrugs. “I think one of my friends maybe wants to be more than friends, but I’ve only ever thought of them as, like, a friend.”
Eddie blinks. Okay. Jesus Christ. Okay. Not about Buck. Pronouns. Okay.
“Okay,” Eddie says, out loud this time. “That’s okay. If you only want to be friends with them, that’s okay.”
Chris frowns down at his homework. “But I don’t - - I don’t know,” he says, frustrated. He’s been thinking about this. He’s coming to Eddie because he’s been thinking about this. He trusts Eddie with this. “I don’t know how you tell the difference.”
“Okay,” Eddie says again. He’s processing in real-time. He’s accepting that his baby is old enough to be asking him these questions in real-time and he’s doing his best, okay? “Right. Yeah. Okay. So you - - you think you maybe could also want to…be more than friends? With this friend?”
Christopher sighs. “I don’t know,” he groans. “I like them. They’re my friend. But I don’t get - - I don’t get how you know that you wanted to be married to Mom, but not to, like, Buck. So, how do you know that you’re not in love with Buck?”
It’s the kind of question that seems like it should have an easy, simple answer. Eddie knows the answer to this.
He nods. “Okay. Okay, yeah. I can see how that - - yeah. Okay. Well. I guess - - I - - with your mom, I knew I liked her a lot, and wanted to spend lots of time with her, and I thought she was really pretty,” he manages. “I liked listening to her talk. She was smart, and funny, and kind. I really liked her, uh, as a person.”
Yeah. Yeah. Nailed it.
Chris frowns. “But how is that different from Buck?”
Eddie blinks. Well, it’s different, obviously. He - - he wants to say that he’s never looked at Buck and thought he was pretty, but he can’t. Buck is pretty. In a completely heterosexual way. He’s a pretty man. A handsome man. A man that people spend $8002 on for one date. That’s just - - an objective fact. Buck is objectively pretty. But it’s different, obviously. He just has to find the words to explain how it’s completely different.
“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “I can - - I can see how this is confusing. Okay. Well, I - - I kissed your mom,” he says, which feels weird as fuck to say to your kid’s face. “And I don’t, um, kiss Buck.”
Christopher huffs. “I know that,” he huffs. “But why?”
Eddie swallows. Because - - well, obviously, because - - “Why don’t I kiss Buck?”
“How do you know that you don’t want to kiss Buck?”
Eddie nods. Right. Right. Right, right, right. “Okay. Yeah. Um. Well, I — and it’s obviously different for everyone, and all of it is okay and good, and I will love you no matter who you kiss — but I only kiss women. A-and, then you have, you know, someone like Buck. Buck kisses everyone, really. Well, not everyone - - not anyone, well - -” he cuts himself off. “Buck is bisexual,” he says. He frowns. “I think. I - - don’t quote me on that, actually. But I am straight. So I - - don’t kiss Buck.”
“So it would, like, gross you out to kiss Buck?”
Eddie considers this. He’s trying to be helpful. He’s trying to be honest. “I mean - - I guess I don’t really know. I’ve never done it.”
Christopher frowns. “I still don’t get it,” he says, slumping back into the chair. “Because all the things you said about Mom could apply to Buck. And if you’re not grossed out at the idea of kissing Buck, why aren’t you married to Buck?”
Eddie blinks. “It just - - it doesn’t work like that.”
Christopher sighs. “This has really not helped at all.”
Eddie is very good at not thinking about things he doesn’t want to think about. So, Eddie doesn’t think about it.
He doesn’t percolate, he doesn’t puzzle, he doesn’t so much as ponder.
He doesn’t think about it, because there’s nothing to think about. Sometimes things don’t have a simple answer. It’s a good lesson — sometimes things don’t make sense. Being a human is complicated. It’s all about how you respond to the situations - - yeah. Yeah, he should write that down. He’ll say that next time. It’s about - - doing the best you can with the information you have at the time! Fuck, yeah. That’s what he’ll say. That sounds good. Wise. Evergreen. Widely applicable.
The next time Christopher slaps him in the face with a riddle, he’s going to be so prepared.
If Eddie had percolated, perhaps he would have foreseen that the next face to be slapped would not be his own.
Alas.
“Hey, Buck?” Christopher says, and Eddie knows. Eddie immediately knows what’s about to come out of his mouth. It’s the tone — the curious lilt, the pondering frown already pressed between his brows.
Buck walked in the door maybe 30 seconds ago. Christopher hasn’t even said hello to him. He’s still taking off his jacket.
“How do you know you’re not in love with my dad?”
Buck freezes. A full body clench. “Uh,” he says. “Could you - - I think I - - sorry,” he laughs uncomfortably. “Could you repeat the question?”
“How do you know you’re not in love with Dad?”
Eddie expects Buck to look at him, but he doesn’t. He looks absolutely everywhere else. Probably partly because he gets stuck in his jacket, arms twisted and flailing.
“Buddy,” Eddie sighs. “You gotta start leading with some context.”
Christopher sighs. He explains his situation again. Again, no names, no gender-specific pronouns. Buck, now free from his jacket prison, unclenches very lightly.
Christopher drops onto the couch, and Buck follows his lead.
“I asked Dad, but now I’m more confused. And you date men, right? But you don’t date Dad. So how do you know you don’t want to date Dad?”
Eddie feels like he shouldn’t be here for this. But he’s already here. Christopher obviously doesn’t care, because he asked right in front of him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. It feels weird to sit. It feels weird to stand. What does he do with his hands?
He finds a piece of lint on the floor and picks it up.
“Well,” Buck starts. “Your dad is straight. And it - - it’s actually a bit of a damaging stereotype to assume that queer people are in love with their friends, because, you’re right, platonic love and romantic love are different things.”
Christopher nods. “Great!” He says, seemingly genuinely relieved. “And how do you tell the difference?”
Buck swallows. “W-well, it’s different for everyone. Attraction, I mean. Who you’re attracted to, or, uh, even if you’re attracted to anyone. Some people don’t experience, uh, romantic or sexual attraction at all. And some people only experience it under certain circumstances. And some people, like me, can be attracted to anyone, theoretically. And there’re - - signs. From your body. That you might be attracted to someone who you think is, uh - - pretty, or handsome, or y’know. Someone you might want to kiss. You’ll - - you’ll know. If you’re attracted to someone.”
Eddie can’t breathe.
Chris frowns. “Oh,” he says. “Okay. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that for my friend.”
Buck nods. “Y-yeah,” he says. “But, uh, people can also be attracted to their friends, physically, and not want to be with them romantically. A-and vice versa, I guess.”
“What?” Christopher groans, flopping back against the couch. “None of this makes any sense.”
Eddie agrees. Eddie agrees completely.
“I, um. Okay. Wait. Let me start over,” Buck says. “You - - you’re allowed to not be sure how you feel about someone — that’s what dating can be for. Getting to know someone, seeing if you do want to hold their hand, or kiss them. And sometimes the answer is no, and that can suck, but as long as you’re kind and you communicate respectfully, it’s okay to not feel the same way back. But sometimes you might be surprised, and want to hold hands with someone you didn’t think you’d want to hold hands with, and that’s okay, too. What’s important is that you’re honest with yourself and with the other person, and that you do your best not to hurt them while you figure it out.” Buck nods, once, like he’s pleased with his answer.
Eddie really, genuinely can’t breathe.
Chris sits with this for a moment. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “That makes sense, I guess. Do you think - - do you think if you were, like, in love with Dad, and he didn’t love you back, that you could still be friends?”
Buck finally looks at him then, and Eddie has never, ever seen that look on his face before. He offers the kind of smile you’d offer a distant acquaintance at the grocery store. It makes Eddie want to puke.
“Yeah,” Buck says. “I do. But it might feel a little different for a high school kid. They might feel embarrassed or hurt, but that wouldn’t be your fault, okay? As long as you’re always doing your best not to hurt anyone. But, yeah. I think really real friends would be okay.”
Christopher sighs.
“And you can always talk to me if you’re not sure, okay? Or your Dad, obviously.”
Christopher makes a face. “You were way more helpful than Dad.”
Eddie would scoff, but that’s valid. “In my defence,” he says, and his voice doesn’t even wobble. He tries to lean against the wall like he’s feeling very normal and casual about all of this. “I married my high school sweetheart. Buck has a lot more…dating experience than I do.”
Christopher rolls his eyes. “That was a long time ago, Dad,” he says.
Buck looks at him. Eddie doesn’t want to think about it.
Christopher sticks around for longer than he usually does (he turned 15 and became allergic to shared spaces), but eventually he shuffles back to his room with a grunt.
By the time his door clicks shut, Eddie has two beers in hand, and he’s handing one to Buck.
“Thanks,” Eddie manages, taking a sip of his beer. “For - - all of that. Sorry he kind of sprung it on you like that.”
Buck snorts. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone assumed I’m hopelessly pining after my straight best friend,” he says, then takes a sizeable glug of his beer.
Eddie’s brain turns to static. “I think he was assuming the opposite, actually. But, uh, yeah?”
“Mhm. It’s ridiculous, right? Just because I’m into dudes, and you’re a dude, doesn’t mean I’m - - y’know.”
Eddie nods. “Yeah. Of course. I know that.”
Buck nods his head in the direction of Christopher’s room. “Do you think he’s okay?”
Eddie sighs. “I don’t know. I hope so. Do you - - the pronouns thing,” he says. “Do you think - -?”
Buck shrugs. “Maybe. It didn’t seem like he was really worried about it, if it is.”
Eddie lets out a breath. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I hope so. God, I hope so. I’d never want him to - -”
“Hey,” Buck frowns. “He knows. I mean, look at me!” He grins, arms out and proud. “Your second favorite person in the world is queer. He knows it’s not a big deal. And he’s Gen Z. And he lives in LA. I really don’t think he’s worried about it.”
“Second favorite in the world, huh?” Eddie asks. “Is that a self-proclaimed title?”
Buck shrugs. “Who else would give your kid a sex ed adjacent talk, Mr I Married My High School Sweetheart?” He takes another sip of his beer, hesitates, and says, “You still - - you’ve been attracted to people since Shannon, right? I mean, obviously. You dated.”
Uhoh. Uhoh.
Eddie swallows. “I - - I honestly don’t know,” he admits. “Trying to explain it to Chris the other night - - I couldn’t.” And then you came in here and answered it like it was easy, and I did not know we were supposed to be feeling any of the things you said we were supposed to be feeling, and now I’m having a full-blown crisis while you sit on my couch.
“Oh,” Buck says. “Yeah? Only Shannon?”
Eddie shrugs. “I don’t even know if - -” He tries, but he can’t finish the sentence — it’s sucked up by a shaky, stilted inhale.
“Hey, don’t - - don’t freak out on me,” Buck says, careful and gentle, leaning closer toward him. “This isn’t a big deal. Like I said to Chris, some people just don’t. There’s a whole spectrum.”
He swallows. “Yeah?”
Buck nods. “Yeah. Some people don’t ever want to be in a romantic relationship or have sex — and those are separate things. Romantic attraction and sexual attraction — you can want one or the other, or neither, or both.”
“I loved her,” Eddie says, sure as anything. “I loved her.”
Buck nods. “I know.”
“And I don’t - - I don’t - - I like sex,” he says. He does. It’s fine. It’s good, even.
Buck hums. “Some people only feel attraction when they have a deep emotional connection with the other person. And there’s - - just about everything on either side and in between. I can send you a - -”
“The last one you said,” Eddie breathes. “That’s not what it’s like for you?”
Buck blinks. “Oh. No,” he says. “Not for me. It’s better, obviously, because I want that now - - want a relationship, but no. I don’t even need to know their name to feel attraction.”
“I don’t do casual.”
“Yeah,” Buck smiles. “I know. Maybe you’ve just gotta find a woman to be friends with first. Join a club or something. There’s probably a knitting club with members who aren’t all octogenarians around here somewhere.”
“You said - - romantic and sexual attraction are different things?”
Buck nods.
“So I could, in theory, be in love with you, but not want to sleep with you?”
Buck chokes. “I, uh - - y-yeah. Yeah, I think so. Yep. I think that’s, uh, one of the options. I think. Yep.”
Eddie’s whole body is buzzing. He feels like a human metal detector — like he’s so close to something so important that every cell in his body is high-pitch screaming BBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPP.
“Christopher asked if I was grossed out by the idea of kissing you, and I said I didn’t know.”
Buck blinks. “O-oh?”
“Because I’ve never done that, so how could I know? I’ve never really wanted to kiss anyone. Like, it’s fine, it’s nice, but I’ve never - - I’m equally as not grossed out at the thought of kissing you as I was at the thought of kissing Marisol.”
“O-okay. So - - so I’m equally attracted to everyone, and you’re equally attracted to no one, maybe?”
“I don’t know!”
“Okay! It’s okay! We can - - you don’t have to know. There’s not gonna be a test.”
There was a test! There already was a test, and Eddie failed it!
“Chris is right! It doesn’t make any sense! How am I supposed to know if I’m in love with you?! What if I am attracted to you and I just don’t know?”
Buck blinks. Swallows. “Um. I don’t know.”
But that won’t do. Eddie needs to know.
“I know you don’t - - is it homophobic if I ask you to kiss me?”
Buck chokes. “S-say that again?”
“I know it’s - - it’s kind of homophobic when people assume you’re in love with me just because you’re bisexual, right? That’s, like, not cool. And I know you’re not. But I - - I don’t know I’m not. A-and you said it’s okay to not know, and to find out, and I want to find out.”
BEEEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
“You want me to kiss you?”
“Yes. Please. If that’s not homophobic.”
Buck laughs, eyes wild. “Are you sure? Y-you have to be sure. I don’t want to make this weird, you’re - -”
“Really real friends would be okay, right? And we’re really real friends. We’re best friends.”
Buck nods once, puts his beer on the coffee table, then leans over and kisses him.
BBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP.
Eddie lights up inside like fireworks in a clear night sky. He feels electric from the tips of his ears to his fingertips to his toes. He feels warm, warm all over. A spreading warmth. Like alcohol, warming him from the inside and making him all woozy in the head. Like he’s sinking into a hot tub in the middle of winter. Like he’s doing all of those things at once.
He’s perfectly tipsy in a hot tub in the Alps, and there are fireworks, and he’s kissing Buck. He’s kissing Buck, and he likes it. He likes kissing Buck.
Buck is looking at him. Buck is saying something. But Eddie can’t hear anything. He can’t hear over the roaring in his ears, the thundering of his heart, the desire surging through his veins, the incredibly high-pitched BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
“Oh,” he says. “Oh.”
Buck blinks. “Oh?”
“Oh no.”
“Oh no?”
“Uh oh.”
“Uh oh?”
“Bad.”
“Bad?!”
“No. No, good. Good. Good. Which - - bad.”
Buck searches his face. “Good,” he breathes. “…bad?”
Eddie nods. Obviously! Obviously! He’s hopelessly pining after his…bisexual best friend who doesn’t feel the same way about him!
“Yes. Sorry.”
Buck blinks. He stares at Eddie. He really stares at Eddie. He seems to decide something. “Is the bad less bad if I’m in love with you?”
Eddie blinks. “Yes.”
Buck nods. “Okay then. Good. All good. No bad.”
Eddie frowns. “You just said - -”
“I was lying. Eddie, obviously I’m in love with you, fuck.”
“You said - - damaging stereotype!”
“It is! Generally! But in this specific instance, it just…happens to apply. Under the specific circumstances.”
“Buck.”
“Eddie.”
“I’m concerned that I may have been in love with you this whole time.”
Buck swallows. “Concerned?”
Eddie nods. “Yes. Yes, concerned. I didn’t know that was an option. I didn’t know there were options. I thought there was one, singular option, and that I was broken because I did not want it.”
“You’re not - -” Buck tries, but Eddie cuts him off.
“And that kiss felt pretty gay, right? Did it feel really gay to you? Because I’m feeling really, pretty gay right now. But I - - I don’t know,” he admits. “What if I - - what if I don’t - - I’ve never really thought about - - and I - - I’m pretty certain I’m in love with you? But I’ve never - - what if I don’t - -”
“Eddie,” Buck cuts him off. “I was going to die being secretly in love with you. I don’t care if we never do more than hold hands. Even that’s more than I ever thought I could have. I don’t care. Whatever you want.”
Eddie frowns. “But that’s not - - you love sex.”
Buck shrugs. “Sure. I love chocolate cake, too, but I’d never eat it again if it meant I got to be with you.”
“You’d give up chocolate cake for me?”
Buck nods. “Wouldn’t even have to think about it.”
“You can’t just - - you should think about it.”
“Fine,” Buck sighs. “I’ll think about it if we need to think about it, but we don’t even know what we’re thinking about, yet, right?”
Eddie blinks. “Well - - yeah,” he admits. “I think I - - it’s possible that I might also like chocolate cake. One specific type of chocolate cake. I’m feeling a lot of things I’ve never felt before for any kind of cake, for this specific chocolate cake right now.”
Buck breathes. “Yeah?”
He’s in a hot tub in the Alps! There are fireworks! He’s so warm. He wants to touch him.
Eddie nods. “Have you - - how do you walk around just feeling like this?”
Buck laughs, a little wild. “Hookup apps, mostly. For you, specifically, years of deep, deep delusion. Let's get back to how you’re horny for me.”
Eddie laughs despite the chaos inside his brain and his body. “I want to kiss you again,” he admits. “And it’s not that I want to kiss you because that’s what you’re supposed to do now, but I really want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I liked kissing you. I’ve never - -”
Buck tackles him into the corner of the couch. The first kiss had been hesitant and careful; this one is not. The hot tub is steaming — there are bubbles, and it’s steaming, and Eddie is drunk. There are so many fireworks that it looks like it’s daytime.
A deep sigh pulls them out of the moment. Buck flails and flings himself off of Eddie, landing on the other side of the couch. They both blink up at Christopher.
He sighs again, theatrically. “So, just - - scratch everything you said, then?” He sighs, exasperated.
Eddie winces. He looks at Buck. Buck looks at Eddie. They both look at Christopher.
“N-no,” Buck says. “My advice was good. My advice was solid. Probably don’t listen to whatever your dad said, though.”
Eddie resists the urge to argue with that because, well, he can’t argue with that.
“Chris, buddy,” he starts, hoping he’ll find the rest of the sentence as he goes. “Uh.”
“You kiss Buck now,” Christopher supplies.
Sure, that’ll do.
“Yes.”
“So you're going to get married?”
“Uh,” he blinks. He wants to be honest. And, honestly - - “It’s - - possibly, I guess. Probably, really.” He looks at Buck. “Probably?”
Buck stares at him, bewildered. “Probably?” He breathes.
Eddie shrugs. He doesn’t know! He didn’t bring it up! He doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, either! But, like - - “Probably,” he confirms. Right?
Buck makes a series of flustered gestures, but ends it with a flabbergasted nod.
Eddie also nods. He turns back to Christopher. “Probably. At some point. Do you have, uh, questions?”
Chris sighs. “No,” he says. “This actually makes sense. This makes way more sense than whatever you were saying before.”
Eddie hums. “Okay. Uh - - good.”
Chris looks between them. “I don’t think I have feelings for my friend,” he decides. “They’re cool, but I don’t think I’d want to kiss them. Or, like, be this weird about them,” he says, gesturing between Buck and Eddie.
Fair.
“Happy to help,” Buck smiles, genuine. He’s such a dork. Eddie is so in love with him. He wants to kiss him. He wants to hold his hand. He wants to - -
Chris snorts. “Is that what we’re calling it?” He deadpans. “You’re welcome,” he says, pointedly, as he disappears into the kitchen to dwindle the snack supply.
Buck blinks at the doorway. “Oh,” he breathes. “He was being sarcastic.”
Eddie snorts. He reaches toward Buck with grabby hands, and his brain goes BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.