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"You're adorable."
Eddie blinks. What had he said? His mind is groggy and swimming beneath the power of the painkillers he had very reluctantly agreed to take. Squinting, he levels his gaze on Tommy, who sits beside him wearing a sweet and soft grin, his eyes pinched in an affectionate smile.
Adorable? Eddie thinks. Me?
"Yes, you," Tommy says and Eddie wonders if he spoke the words aloud without even realising it. A loose smile floats across his mouth and he shrugs.
"Okay, then," he agrees. "I'm adorable."
Tommy laughs, his bright chuckle catching Eddie's ears and causing his smile to solidify on his face. "I'm really glad we met," he says.
"Me too," Eddie sighs, resting his head against the backrest of the couch. He watches Tommy with a limpid gaze. His features blur ever so slightly around the edges as he wriggles a little closer, the movement too fast for Eddie's dulled mind to follow.
The softness of Tommy's expression sharpens slightly as an edge of seriousness catches him. "The past couple of weeks have been an absolute blast," he says, and Eddie's about to agree again when Tommy holds up a hand to keep him silent. Stilling, he waits. "Everything about you ... just makes me a little happier. And I still can't believe you blew off your girlfriend to hang out with me."
A line draws tight between Eddie's brows. Did I do that? Huh. "I guess I did," he murmurs in response.
"I like you, Eddie."
Tommy looks so serious as the words leave his mouth, his eyes boring into Eddie's, holding his gaze with a burning intensity that makes Eddie wonder if the pain meds are making him hallucinate slightly. But he smiles, and replies, "I like you too."
It happens so suddenly, so fast, that Eddie has no time to stop it. Or maybe, he's just too slow to recognise what Tommy meant before he shows him, not with words, but with touch.
The gap between them on the couch disappears as Tommy touches his fingers to Eddie's jaw, leans in and kisses him. It's soft, yet determined, a kiss from a man who knows what he wants and is confident enough to chase after it. Stunned, Eddie's lips quiver and he doesn't know whether to kiss back or to pull away.
His indecision must show, because Tommy shifts back before Eddie can make a choice, and his eyes are suddenly wary.
"Oh," Eddie breathes.
"Was that okay?" Tommy asks.
"It was ..." Eddie trails off without forming an answer. He doesn't entirely know what Tommy's asking. As a kiss, it was ... wonderful, if fleeting. But as the symbol of a potential shift in their blossoming friendship, it leaves Eddie conflicted. And that conflict confuses him. Something deep within his body stirs and comes to life, something hard and warm and forceful that he has no idea what to do with. Part of it compels him to grab Tommy's collar, to drag him in and kiss him again, to let that newly living thing have oxygen and watch it grow ... the other part of him blurts, "I need to talk to Buck."
Taken aback, Tommy leans away from him. His voice is very low when he replies, "I kiss you and your first thought is of Evan?"
"Oh," Eddie says. "Um..."
Mouth pressing into a thin line, Tommy shakes his head. "It's alright," he murmurs. "I misread things between us. It happens. I hope this won't impact our friendship, Eddie."
"Of course not," Eddie says automatically, but he means it. But his brain hones in on one thing, refuses to let it go. "What do you mean, you misread things?"
Looking a little puzzled by the question, Tommy flicks one shoulder and says, "Well, you know. The level of touch between us, the way we're hanging out so much, that sort of thing. But don't worry about it. It's not the first time I've got it wrong, and it may not be the last."
I'm just a touchy guy , Eddie wants to say, but the words stick in his throat as he thinks about all the times they've touched—the chest bumps, the high fives, the grips and locks and sweaty laughter of their muay thai sparring sessions. He understands immediately how that could have been interpreted. A flush stains his cheeks.
A lopsided smile graces Tommy's mouth, and he reaches out to brush his thumb against the arch of Eddie's cheekbone. "You haven't done anything wrong," he says. "But I do think maybe you need to look a little at why me kissing you made you think immediately about Evan. I could be misreading things again, but also ... maybe I'm not." Sighing, smiling, Tommy gets to his feet and bends down to clap one hand to Eddie's shoulder. "I'm gonna go. I'll talk to you soon."
And, confused and blurry, Eddie pivots in his seat to watch Tommy leave. As he lets himself out, as the door clunks shut behind him, Eddie turns back around and huffs out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
Raising an unsteady hand to his mouth, Eddie brushes his fingers against the lingering imprint of Tommy's kiss. That feeling rises within him again, heady and desperate and aching to be explored. Buck's face flashes across his mind, and a moment later his mind is consumed with the idea of kissing Buck, being pressed against him, tasting his lips.
Shivering, Eddie crowds back against the couch, sinking into the cushions as though he can escape the world for a few precious moments. He fights the image away, mentally swatting at it until the feelings are back within his control.
Throwing himself forwards, Eddie plants his face in the couch, the seat warm from Tommy's body, warm against his face. Groaning, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to push Buck from his mind. He can't go there. He won't go there.
<*-*>
The obnoxiously loud shringing of his phone rouses Eddie. Peeling his face off the couch, he takes a few bleary blinks and then groans as he fumbles in his pocket for his phone.
It's Buck.
He punches the tiny green symbol on his screen and shifts the phone to his ear. "Buck?"
"Hey." Buck's voice is cautious, careful, and rushed. "I just wanna say, I'm really sorry Eddie. I never meant to hurt you. I was just ..."
"Hey, it's okay, I know," Eddie says, and yawns.
"Were you sleeping?" Buck asks.
"Oh." Eddie tries to ease himself upright, but the pain medication has left him drowsy and soft and he gives up, surrendering to the fuzzy embrace of his couch. "I think I nodded off, yeah."
"Shit, sorry," Buck says. "I keep getting this wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," Eddie says. "We're fine, Buck."
"Really?"
"Yeah, of course. You would never have hurt me on purpose. We both know that."
"Right," Buck says. "Okay then. Great. I'm sorry I didn't call until now."
"Buck, you have nothing to be sorry for. But it's great to hear from you."
A slight pause pulses between them, then Buck admits, "Tommy came by and said I should call you."
Eddie's eyes flash open wide. "Tommy came to see you?"
"Mm," Buck says. "Yeah."
"What ... did he say?" Sounding a fraction confused, Buck explains how Tommy had apologised for excluding him and encouraged him to reach out. Eddie asks, "And nothing else?"
"What else is there?" Buck says.
"He kissed me," Eddie blurts, shocking and disappointing himself. His teeth sink into his treacherous tongue, but he hears the piercing inhale on the other end of the phone, notes the sharpness of the silence that falls.
"Wow," Buck says eventually. "I mean, not wow , just like ... so that's a thing that happened, huh?"
I wanted it to be you , Eddie's mind cries, and he quashes the thought. A shiver wracks his body, and with it comes a ribbon of guilt that curves around his heart and ties a violent knot. He clears his throat. "I guess."
"So, are you ...?"
Fear drenches Eddie, washing cold through his entire being. "Am I what?" he asks, a touch defensively. He knows where Buck is leading, and it's a question he cannot face, refuses to consider, has spent most of his life actively hiding from.
"Are you gonna tell Marisol?" Buck finally says.
Oh. Not at all the question Eddie was expecting. "I uh, hadn't even thought about that," he says. Rolling onto his side, he asks, "Do you think I should?"
"Well, yeah," Buck answers. "But I guess it depends on what kind of a kiss it was."
"What kind?" Eddie echoes.
There's another pause, a slight but loaded one, and then Buck's voice trips down the phone line, strained and twisted. "Well, did you kiss him back?"
"No," Eddie says immediately, but the pain meds are still working on his brain and more words slip out before he can stop them. "But I almost did."
"Then you probably need to have a conversation with your girlfriend," Buck says, and Eddie's not sure if he's imagining it, but Buck's voice is a little sharp. "Hey, I think I gotta go."
"Oh." A sliver of fear slices through Eddie's chest. "Have I made things weird between us?"
"Of course not," Buck says quickly. Too quickly, Eddie thinks. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay, but I've got a thing, so..."
I don't believe you. "Okay. Sure."
"I'll check in with you tomorrow, okay?"
"Sure, Buck," Eddie says, and before he can say goodbye, Buck hangs up the call. Gazing with one eye at the phone screen, Eddie groans and shoves his face back into cushions. His ankle throbs and his head sways and Eddie wills himself back to sleep just so he can ignore it all.
<*-*>
Eddie reels.
He's not entirely sure what's just happened, and certainly he's not sure how he feels about it.
Marisol leaves without a backward glance. Eddie hears her crying before the door closes between them, and wonders whether or not she really means it when she says 'it's over'. It feels too abrupt, too sudden. And yet, the words that had flown between them after Eddie told her about the kiss could not be unsaid, and he wonders if they'll ever stop burning in his brain.
"Are you really leaving because of this?" Eddie had asked.
"You kissed a man."
"He kissed me," Eddie had insisted.
"It's sinful," Marisol had said, and the conversation spiralled from there. As first fights went, it was spectacularly understated. Eddie hardened against her as Marisol spoke in a reasonable tone, outlining things Eddie remembered from Catholic school, things he did not agree with, and the divide that formed between them cracked wide and insurmountable. Their values parted them.
After Marisol is gone, Eddie wants to call Buck. But he remembers the abruptness of their talk from the night before and falters. Buck had said he would check in, but hasn't yet. Biting his lips, Eddie stares at his phone and then sighs. He punches a call through to Buck.
It answers on the fourth ring. "Hi, Eddie." Buck's voice is a little subdued, and sounds tired.
"Hey," Eddie says, feeling unsure. His eyes burn with unshed tears, his heart tight with stress. "You got a minute to talk?"
"Of course," Buck says, but he sounds far from enthusiastic. "How're things?"
"Things suck," Eddie says. "Marisol and I just broke up."
"Oh," Buck says. He sounds a little surprised, but there's wariness in his tone as well. "So, you and Tommy are gonna be a thing now instead?"
"What?" Eddie asks, startled. "No."
"No?" Buck repeats. "But last night, I thought..."
"Tommy kissed me ," Eddie says, frustration gripping him. "I'm..."
A soft pause, then Buck says, "You're what?"
Not gay , Eddie wants to say, but the words stick in his throat. They're not a lie, not exactly, but they're also not true. He's something other than straight, he always has been ... but he can't own up to that at the moment, not with Marisol's words still filling his mind. "Marisol nearly became a nun," he says instead.
"Huh?" Buck sounds confused by the sudden shift in topic. "Um, okay."
"That's why we broke up," Eddie says. He shakes his head, and rambles on. "I mean, because ... she holds those old values. She said Tommy kissing me was sinful."
"Wow," Buck says. "That's ... a lot."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, and something in him relaxes as he hears Buck's tone shift towards something more normal. "We talked it out, a lot. I realised we have some values that are just too different."
"So you don't think it's sinful?" Buck asks. Eddie swallows, all the words drying up on his tongue. "Eddie?"
"I don't think that," Eddie says. "But ..."
There's a ruffle of movement at the other end of the line, and Eddie suspects Buck is shifting. "But what?"
Gnawing on his lower lip, Eddie takes a long time to answer. "But it woke all this repressed guilt in me, when Marisol said that. It made me realise that I've been..." He trails off, the words choking in his throat.
"Realise what?" Buck asks, his tone keener, and Eddie knows he's more invested now, he's listening properly, intently.
Eddie can't speak. The words won't leave his lips.
"Maybe I should come over," Buck says generously. "We can talk face to face."
"Okay," Eddie agrees, forcing the single raspy word over a dry tongue.
"I'll be there soon," Buck promises, and then pauses before adding, "You can tell me anything, Eddie. I mean it, anything."
"Thanks," Eddie whispers, and then Buck says goodbye and hangs up, leaving Eddie alone with the silence.
<*-*>
Letting himself in with his key, Buck startles Eddie out of his reverie. He's perched on the couch, muscles filled with tension, his thoughts spinning in a dizzying dance as he tries to figure out just what the hell he wants to say to Buck.
"Hey, I'm here," Buck murmurs, pushing the door shut. He crosses the room and eases himself down on the couch beside Eddie. "Are you okay?"
Shaking his head, Eddie murmurs, "I don't know."
"That's okay," Buck replies. He puts one hand on Eddie's shoulder and squeezes gently. "Tell me what's going on inside that pretty head."
A flush creeps into Eddie's face. He loves when Buck flirts with him, loves it absolutely, even though it makes him sick with wanting. Marisol's words come back to him, hard and fast, striking against his mood with their intolerance.
They sit in silence for a long time, and Eddie's grateful more than words for the way Buck just waits for him. Buck has always known when to press him and when to let him have time to speak. "It's not wrong to be queer, is it?" Eddie hears the words escape him as though someone else has said them.
"Of course it isn't," Buck says, very gently. He pauses, then continues in a fragile voice, "Is this about Tommy? Or about you?"
"It's about me," Eddie breathes on a sigh. "And about whether I want to keep being this version of myself."
"What version?"
Eddie thinks for a moment before answering. He says a single word. "Repressed."
Buck is silent for a moment. "So ... you're not straight?"
Without meaning to, Eddie hides from him. He hunches forwards, sweeps his hands over his head and into his hair, and keeps his face bowed away. He shakes his head and doesn't speak.
"And you're feeling guilty about that?" Buck says gently.
Eddie answers with a grunt.
"Eddie, if you want to be with Tommy, then you should do it," Buck whispers. "Let yourself be happy."
"I don't want Tommy," Eddie murmurs. "I mean, he's great, I like him a lot. But not that way."
Buck's hand slides around Eddie's shoulder and slips across his back. "Okay," he sounds confused. "But you said you want to stop being repressed with your sexuality, so ... what does that mean? Is there someone else?"
Without looking up, Eddie nods. "Yeah, there's someone else. When Tommy kissed me, I immediately thought of him."
Letting his breath go in one long, stressed exhale, Buck doesn't reply for a long time. When he does, his words are not ones Eddie expects. "I'm finding this really difficult to hear."
That gets Eddie's attention, and a sinking feeling drags at his belly. "Because you already know," he guesses, looking up. "And it's making you uncomfortable."
"I don't know anything," Buck says sadly. "But hearing that you're in love with some guy and I ... nothing."
"Some guy?" Eddie repeats. His eyebrows dance across his forehead. "It's you, Buck."
"What's me?" Buck is nonplussed.
Eddie gapes at him, and the words flee his lips before he can think to stop them. "You're the guy."
Buck stares back. "Me?" he asks thickly.
Not breaking eye contact, Eddie just watches him, lets Buck's gaze eat into his soul. He can't read it, has no idea what Buck is thinking.
"You're in love with me?" Buck asks eventually.
Saying nothing, Eddie nods and looks away again. His insides writhe. It feels good to finally admit it, to have the burden of his long-kept secret finally eased by sharing it with someone ... but it also feels horrific, sharp panic gnawing at his belly as he waits for the inevitable fall out, the moment where Buck lets him down easy and then leaves.
"Look at me, Eddie," Buck whispers.
He shakes his head, trembles gripping his body.
"I love you too." The words are so soft that Eddie wonders for a moment if he's dreaming them. Then Buck's fist curls in the back of his shirt, tugs a little, and he continues, "When you told me Tommy had kissed you, I felt ... overwhelmed. Watching you two together the last couple of weeks has woken all these feelings I didn't know I had, and I didn't understand any of them. Then you said you kissed, and it was like my brain caught fire. And I knew, if any man was ever going to kiss you, then I wanted it to be me."
Eddie's heart shudders, and he chances glancing up at Buck. He doesn't speak, but asks the question with his eyes: Really?
Buck nods. His fingers move against Eddie's back. "I think I've felt something for you for a very long time," he sighs. "And I just hadn't realised what it was."
One eyebrow slides up very slowly as Eddie simply watches him. It seems impossible that Buck loves him, and yet he knows Buck would never lie to him, not about something so important.
Pressing his lips together, Buck watches him with consuming softness, and then he whispers, "Can I kiss you?"
Eyes widening, Eddie discovers himself nodding before he's even thought about what answer to give.
Buck's hand smooths up the back of Eddie's neck, and into his hair, holding him steady as he shuffles closer. The space between them disappears, replaced instead with the warmth of Buck's body, and then his mouth covers Eddie's, soft and a little unsure, but very sweet.
Eddie surrenders to it immediately, tipping his head and leaning into Buck. Blindly, he reaches for Buck, one hand settling on his arm, fingers digging into the firm arch of his muscles. As Eddie touches him, Buck's kiss strengthens, his confidence reassured.
Wonder dazzles inside Eddie as Buck's mouth moves against his, deep but chaste, warm but restrained, though Eddie can sense the excitement inside Buck, can feel the beat of his pulse hammering beneath his skin. And he knows that Buck wants him every single bit as much as he wants Buck.
The kiss is slow and lingering, neither of them seeking more than the simpleness of understanding their mutual desire. Holding each other, they break apart and their eyes catch and hold. And Buck chuckles, very softly. "That was..."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, because he knows what Buck means without the words needing to be said. "It was."
"I can't wait to do it again," Buck says, his eyes darting towards Eddie's lips. But he hesitates, murmuring, "But maybe we should give it a little time. Until a few hours ago, you had a girlfriend."
"We don't need to rush," Eddie agrees, although he's disappointed. "We have the rest of our lives to kiss each other."
"The rest of our lives?" Buck's eyes are wide and so blue and bright with feeling.
Very softly, Eddie says, "You were always gonna be in the rest of my life, Buck. One way or another."
"Well, this way is definitely appealing."
Making a soft sound of amusement, Eddie looks at Buck's mouth, wanting to touch it with his fingertips, to feel the soft fullness of his pout. He almost dares, but holds back. "It definitely is," he agrees.
"I love you, Eddie," Buck murmurs, and both his hands are on Eddie's body, gentle, caressing, enthralled. "Remind me to send Tommy a thank you card."
"What?" Eddie drops one eyebrow in puzzlement.
Buck shrugs lightly. "Without him kissing you, we might not have got here. And here with you ... it's the best place I've ever been."
"Oh," Eddie says. Then he smiles. And maybe there's a lot still to say, and a lot still to work out, but with those simple words he is happy. He reaches for Buck again, draws him into another kiss, and puts everything else on hold.