Christopher empties a bag of candy into Eddie's hands and flies off without a word, his giant black wings eclipsing the rest of his body as he returns to the party.
"On the one hand, it's awesome that he's old enough to handle the party by himself and not need my help with anything," Eddie mutters. "But on the other, a quick 'hi, dad, I love you' might be nice."
Buck nudges him with his shoulder. "Hey, he is a very busy bat, doing important bat things. I do think you're allowed to steal one of his Snickers as payback, though."
Eddie nods, shoving most of the candy into his pockets before unwrapping one to pop into his mouth. He remains pressed alongside Buck as he scans the room, the 118's Halloween party in full swing, a night mostly intended for the kids, though several adults are decked out in costumes of their own. Christopher had asked Eddie to dress up as a vampire to pair with his bat, and as much as he may grumble about his kid being too busy to talk to him tonight, Eddie will gratefully dress up as whatever Chris wants for as many years as Chris might want it. And for his part, Buck seems to have had way too much fun putting together a zombie costume with layers of dirty, torn clothes and some truly grotesque makeup that only highlights the blue of his eyes.
Of course, that's not the kind of thing he should be close enough to notice, but every time Eddie tries to move away from Buck, he gets pulled in again. And again and again and again. It strikes him, not for the first time, how easy it is to be here – anywhere, really – with Buck, and how little anyone around them seems to expect anything else. They've become a pair, almost as obvious as Hen and Karen or Bobby and Athena or Michael and David or—
He sighs, knowing that all the easy comes with an unhealthy dose of hard, and wonders how much of that is his own fault. For wanting what he can't have. For not fighting for a chance at it anyway. A second, smaller sigh follows as he pulls another candy bar from his pocket and pushes into Buck's waiting hand.
"Careful," Eddie warns. "Don't want your teeth to rot as terribly as your face has."
Buck winks. "Hey, no need to pretend I'm not the best looking zombie you've ever seen."
"Sorry, but vampires are notoriously more attractive."
"Okay, yeah, the fangs are pretty damn sexy," Buck agrees, mumbling around the chocolate in his mouth. "But maybe next year I'll intrude on your family costume theme just to make sure you can't win this argument again."
"You say that like it's a threat, but you know Christopher would love to do a group theme with you."
"Just Christopher, huh?" Buck asks, but there's a hidden sharpness to his question and the edge drags along Eddie's skin – whether it will give him goosebumps or make him bleed, he hasn't decided.
"I didn't mean—"
"I broke up with Taylor."
Eddie's quickly covered by both goosebumps and blood, and he fumbles for a response. "I—okay—you—is this a bad thing or—a good thing?"
"Pretty sure we're supposed to call that a 'trick or treat' tonight."
It should be funny – it is funny – but before Eddie can laugh, the expression on Buck's zombie-ravaged face shifts into something so layered that Eddie turns away to find Christopher instead, his eyes locked on his son when Buck clears his throat and continues.
"Um, anyway, yeah, I think it's good. Are you surprised?"
"That you broke up with her or that you think it's a good thing?"
"Either? Both?"
"No," Eddie admits, and he looks back at Buck then, though he adjusts his cape just to give himself anything else to do. "Or maybe not as much as I'm supposed to be."
"I don't want you to feel like you're supposed to be anything at all."
"No, no, it's not—you haven't."
"I do think you're supposed to share more of that chocolate with me, though."
Buck's attempt at levity lands better this time around, and it's exactly what Eddie needs when he notices Christopher making his way toward them. He sneaks another candy bar to Buck and smiles at his son.
"Guess what," Christopher says, a bunch of Halloween swag draped around his neck. "I got second place in the pumpkin decorating contest."
"That's awesome, bud. We'll have to go check it out." Eddie glances around the station. "Looks like people are starting to pack up. You ready to go home soon?"
Instead of answering him directly, Christopher grins at Buck. "Are you coming home with us? Dad's gonna let me stay up so we can watch The Nightmare Before Christmas."
"I'm—yeah?" It's a little ridiculous for Buck to even hesitate, given the dozens of other movies they've watched together, but Eddie blames Taylor for that. Or the breakup. Or the way the air suddenly feels too heavy with the anticipation of what comes next.
"You know you're always welcome," Eddie shrugs.
Always, always, always.
Buck watches Eddie for a moment, but finally ruffles Christopher's hair – a display of affection Chris might soon outgrow, though Eddie thinks Buck may be able to get away with it forever.
"I'll be right behind you."
They grab a few more goodies on their way out of the station, but make it home not long after that. Eddie tells Christopher to brush his teeth, change into his pajamas, and get the movie ready, then he turns to study Buck.
"Give me a minute to become a little less undead and then we'll—" he trails off and gestures toward Buck's face. "Do something with all that makeup."
And by the time Eddie meets Buck in the bathroom, Buck has already shed a layer of zombie clothes, stacked a towel and a couple of washcloths on the counter, and grabbed a bottle of face cleanser. Eddie tries not to think too much about how easily Buck knew where to find everything, or why Buck has tilted his head as though he wants to ask why Eddie has bothered to join him when they both know Buck can wash his face without any help at all.
Those questions and answers have been around for a while, though – maybe weeks or months or years now – in all the times he and Buck have shared a whispered secret, hugged for too long, or stared until he ached with something he still won't name. In the fragile intimacy of post-rescue silences, sleepy nights pressed together in conversation when there was no reason to be close at all, and every second of his recovery, when he and Buck had breathed the same air and carefully avoided acknowledging why it mattered.
Yeah, the questions and answers have been around for a long time, but Eddie has become very good at pretending he hasn't learned a thing.
And maybe that's why he's unprepared for the way his breath catches as he cradles Buck's head to hold him still while he starts to wipe the zombie makeup away. Eddie swallows hard and attempts to recover, telling himself he shouldn't be affected at all, that he's only helping to remove part of a silly costume worn by his silly best friend while they spent a silly night with his silly son. But everything tipped toward something serious the moment Eddie learned about Taylor and he becomes dizzy with it now.
He drags the warm washcloth across Buck's forehead, wanting so badly to touch the birthmark uncovered over Buck's eye, maybe with his fingertip, maybe with his tongue. Eddie reaches past where Buck leans against the sink to rinse the cloth, their legs slotted together and his free hand sliding easily into Buck's hair as soon as he's ready to start again, taking his time with one cheek, then the other. Eddie is careful to avoid eye contact, each touch so tender that a single look might break him.
Dodge, ignore, smother.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Eddie has found a rhythm and it's a wonderfully steady thing until the washcloth moves across Buck's chin and catches his bottom lip – then the music fades and Eddie is left with silence. Honesty. And he just needs to be done with all the ways he thinks too much, so he can finally feel something instead.
The washcloth falls to the floor and Eddie swipes the pad of his thumb across Buck's lip in its place, moving forward and chancing a look into Buck's eyes just in time to watch them fall closed as their noses brush together.
Finally. Feeling.
"Christopher's waiting for us. We should go out there."
Buck's whisper is barely audible, but it feels like a scream and Eddie can't help but jump backward in response, replaying the entire evening and wondering where he went so wrong. Buck just broke up with Taylor, so is this happening too soon, or does he not want it at all? Did he hesitate about coming over because he was wanted to keep some distance from Eddie now that their convenient distractions are gone? Did he let Eddie help clean the makeup from his face in a moment of weakness or kindness or maybe even pity?
Buck's eyes are unnaturally wide and he looks like he's about to say more, but Eddie cuts him off as he backs out of the bathroom.
"Yeah, I'm sure you can finish up in here. I'll make sure he's all set and you can—I mean, if you still want to stay—just come out whenever you're ready."
"Eddie—"
He's already headed down the hall when he hears his name, but he hurries as though it will do him any good to outrun the sound of Buck's voice. Eddie finds Christopher next to a pile of blankets and helps unfold a couple of them while Christopher starts the movie. He's shaking and hates every tiny tremor, still fighting to regain control of his body when Buck joins them on the couch.
If Chris notices anything, he doesn't mention it, all too happy to be squeezed between them – at least for the first half hour. Then he wriggles until his head is propped against Buck's chest and Eddie moves his son's legs onto his lap, the blankets keeping them all wrapped up as one, Christopher drifting off to sleep just before the movie ends.
Neither of them has said more than a few unimportant words to the other since their almost-kiss, but now Eddie slides out from under Chris and reaches down to lift him from Buck, mumbling something about putting his kid to bed. Buck nods, but Eddie can almost see all the questions he's holding back, patient in a way that scares Eddie more than anything else has this Halloween.
And instead of returning to the living room after Christopher is settled, Eddie stops in the kitchen. Stays there. Paces for a minute. Grabs water from the refrigerator and sets it on the counter. Braces himself on the same counter a second later, his back turned so that he doesn't see Buck enter, only feels a lonely tingle trip down his spine.
"Not that you don't have a great kitchen, but it may be hard to watch any other movies from in here."
"I'm sorry," Eddie says, still staring at the cabinet in front of him.
"Because you don't think your kitchen is that great? Or because you don't want to watch another movie with me?"
"Buck."
"Eddie."
"You know why I'm sorry."
He feels Buck step toward him, and Eddie's torn between telling him to go and begging him to stay. His entire body feels too warm, his heartbeat too strong, and he should drink some of the water next to him, but he's too afraid to move.
"After you and I talked about your panic attacks, after we talked about Ana, you—you went home and broke up with her."
"Yeah, I remember," Eddie sighs. And Buck is closer now. So, so close.
"Why didn't you ever talk to me about Taylor?"
Eddie's glad now that he didn't have a mouthful of water – he's pretty sure he would've choked on it.
And he still can't face Buck.
"I—come on. What the hell could I have said?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe anything?" Buck hisses. "I called out your relationship, you ended it, and then nothing. You asked nothing about mine."
"I thought things were great with Taylor."
"Funny, pretty sure I said the same thing about Ana."
Buck hits on something with that and Eddie can't help but wince. Because of course they both thought things were great – it's the easy perspective of an outsider, so far removed from the reality of the relationship itself. And for two people who surrendered so much to each other long ago, a careful examination of their dating lives has remained off limits. They're back to the questions and answers now, left with the one subject that's never faced more than surface-level snark, declared too dangerous without either of them saying a word.
"After I broke up with Ana, what did you want me to say?"
He feels Buck's hands at his waist now, firm and grounding, though Eddie isn't sure which of them needs it more. His eyes squeeze shut when he feels Buck's breath against the back of his neck.
"I just wanted to know whether I was wrong. Again. Whether I was just seeing things I wanted to see. The look you gave me right before you went home that day—I thought it meant something, like maybe you were telling me so much more than anything you said out loud, but—" Buck releases a frustrated huff, and Eddie thinks he growls in response.
"But you stopped me."
"Stopped you from what? Telling me more? Talking to me afterward?"
"From kissing you."
His kitchen suddenly seems too bare, every surface helping haunt him with the echo of his words. Kissing you kissing you kissing you kissing you kissing you.
"Turn around," Buck whispers.
"I—"
"Please."
They've been pressed against each other for a while, Buck's chest to Eddie's back, his lips to Eddie's ear, but it still takes Eddie several seconds to move. It's stupid – bordering on ridiculous, actually – but he savors the last few moments of safety before he faces every fear he's known. And when he finally turns, he shivers at the beauty of the moonlight cutting across Buck's face, as gentle there as it is within the dark October sky.
Maybe there's more safety to be found.
"You said Chris was waiting. That we had to go," he argues, his voice rough.
"He was, and we did, because—" Buck shakes his head. "I knew that if you kissed me—I knew that if I let that happen—I wouldn't ever want to stop. Don't even know if I could have."
Always, always, always. Kissing you, kissing you, kissing you.
"He's not waiting anymore."
Buck smiles, though it's a cautious, hopeful, terrified thing that Eddie feels deeply. "No, he's not."
And then there's only silence, nothing left to keep Eddie from pushing off the kitchen counter and into Buck's mouth, Buck opening easily for him now. Eddie lets himself relax into it, finally believing in something he's been afraid of for too long, his tongue sliding against Buck's in a way that's at least as comforting as it is arousing. Their hands move slowly, skimming over each other's bodies until they find slivers of skin to tease, but neither of them pull away from that first kiss.
He thinks it might last forever, a tender and tentative thing, but they have all the time in the world.
And an entire year to find the perfect family costumes for next Halloween.