Christopher's hosting his first sleepover tonight. Hey, you're more than welcome to come and celebrate with a bunch of nine-year-olds.
The invitation flies from his mouth – genuine and a little ridiculous – but somehow, it's no surprise when Buck responds with a goofy smile and a hell yeah, I'm there.
After all, Buck's also genuine and a little ridiculous.
"Do you need me to bring anything? Food? Some spooky stories? My sleeping bag?"
"I think I've got most of it under control," Eddie laughs. "And you don't have to actually spend the night, you know."
Buck raises his eyebrows and shrugs. "I feel like maybe you don't understand what makes it a sleepover, but that's fine. I'll see you there."
They go their separate ways and Eddie keeps busy the rest of the day prepping for the party. Christopher is grinning from ear to ear, even more excited – if that's possible – after finding out Buck will be joining them, and Eddie stares for a minute, wishing he could bottle that joy. For a kid who's been through so damn much in his short life, he's never without that smile for long.
They're both that much happier when they hear a string of quick honks coming from the curb in front of the house, though an absurdly large bunch of balloons emerges from the Jeep before Buck does. And when he realizes Buck is wearing fire truck pajamas – because of course he is – Eddie chokes back a laugh and looks skyward for help.
"Buck, you're here!" Christopher shouts.
"Hey, I couldn't miss your very first sleepover," Buck replies, squatting down with millions of balloons to give Chris a hug.
Eddie just shakes his head and follows Buck inside. "Is there any helium left in L.A.?"
"You can't get mad at me," Buck insists. "You wouldn't tell me what to bring, so I had to improvise."
"With the pajamas, too?"
"Don't be jealous, Eddie. I can get you a pair."
"And me?" Christopher asks.
"Of course, bud. I will definitely get some for you."
"For now," Eddie says, ruffling his son's hair, "how about you make sure your room is somewhat clean before your friends show up to help you destroy it? Buck and I are gonna move the couch out of the way and then we'll order the pizza."
Christopher doesn't hesitate to do what he's told – anything to help pass the time until the party starts – while Buck and Eddie take care of the rest. Several minutes later, the first of the guests arrive and they barely get a chance to say hello to the kid before he and Christopher are giggling their way down the hall.
"It's great when they have no separation anxiety, but it would be nice if I could at least get a quick hug goodbye," laughs his mom, smiling at Eddie before turning toward Buck. "And it's so good to finally meet you! It's Buck, right? I'm Rebecca."
"Um, hi—yeah, I'm Buck," he responds, recovering quickly from the surprise that had flashed across his face. "It's very nice to meet you, too."
Eddie has nothing to offer but the confused tilt of his head as more cars pull up and the parade of guests grows, the kids running off to join Christopher and the rest of their friends, while the moms light up at Buck's presence next to Eddie.
"It's so wonderful that you have the night off and can be here for the party!"
"I can't believe it's taken this long for us to be able to introduce ourselves!"
"I'm so glad you're all happy. You deserve it!"
The enthusiasm is fantastic – albeit a little scary – but Eddie has no idea what brought it on. Buck is totally rolling with it, of course, but Eddie can tell he's just as lost. Finally, when a couple of the moms are distracted with last minute reminders for kids who are preoccupied with far more exciting things, Eddie waves Dillon's mom over to where he and Buck are standing.
"Quick question, Tasha," he begins, his voice hushed. "Not that we don't appreciate the excitement, but do you have any idea why everyone seems so thrilled to meet Buck tonight?"
"Hey, why wouldn't they be thrilled to meet me?" Buck chirps.
"Ignore him. I think he's probably a dozen Pixie Sticks in already." Eddie rolls his eyes, but doesn't bother faking exasperation. "But seriously, what's going on?"
Tasha laughs. "They all got a little high-pitched there, didn't they? But they're just happy for you guys. Everyone adores Christopher and we know you've all had a pretty rough year, so I think we're just relieved to see that you've found each other. And after months of hearing Christopher say "mydadandBuck" like it's one word, plus the way your eyes practically twinkle every time you mention him – well, it's nice to finally be able to put a face to the name."
Nooooooooo. "Wait, I—"
"Oh, I didn't mean to embarrass you," she assures Eddie. Then she leans over to Buck, who is literally biting his lip to hold back what Eddie can only assume is eternal laughter. "Really, though. He adores you, and love is a good look on him."
Before Eddie can say anything – in defense? agreement? – two other moms reappear, one of them suddenly clasping Tasha on the arm.
"Hey, Tash, did you tell them about the BBQ?" She doesn't bother waiting for a response, redirecting her grin to Eddie and Buck. "A few of us couples are getting together next weekend – the kids, too, of course. Adult beverages for us, junk food for them. What do you say?"
Say? Eddie can't manage a single word, much less a full sentence. A rush of damning heat has settled in his cheeks and he thinks everything gets a tiny bit worse when Buck moves close enough to drape an arm around his shoulders.
"We really appreciate the invitation, but I'm not sure we'll be able to make it to the BBQ," Buck replies, his smile a mile wide. "Please keep us in mind for next time, though. I'm sure it would be a lot of fun."
Somehow Eddie nods, mumbling something that he hopes comes out as thank you and see you tomorrow morning. He shuts the door behind them, then falls back against it, his hands immediately scrubbing his face as though the past several minutes could possibly be erased.
"Eddie?"
"Next time, Buck? Next time?" he squeaks.
"Hey, I was trying to be polite. I had to do something – you just froze there."
"They think we're together. Like, as a couple."
"Yeah, I got that. Because you adoooooooore me," Buck teases. "Be careful denying it. I'm not sure my fragile ego can take it."
The thing is, Eddie doesn't want to deny it. Not really. And he supposes that's half the problem.
The other half is that Buck expects him to.
When the doorbell rings, Eddie jumps forward in surprise and Buck chokes on another laugh.
"Pizza's here."
Hours later, Eddie and Buck carefully step around the haphazard arrangement of sleeping bags, collecting crumbled napkins and dirty paper plates before they make their way to the kitchen. The last couple of the boys drifted off to sleep about 10 minutes earlier and the party seems to have been a success, especially because Eddie has eaten so much pizza, he couldn't possibly have any room left for feelings.
Not when Buck had insisted on feeding him a bite from the slice he held in his hand. I know you have your own pizza right there, but you gotta try mine.
Not when Buck had draped his body over Eddie's back, chin resting on his shoulder, during the kids' epic Jenga tournament. I need to get a better look, but I don't want to be in their way.
Not when they'd tiptoed to the couch pushed against the living room wall so Buck could watch one of the Harry Potter movies with the boys. I'm Gryffindor. You're Slytherin. Christopher's Hufflepuff.
Not even when Buck had moved to put his stupid, fire truck pajama clad legs over Eddie's lap. I'm just trying to stretch without kicking anyone in the head.
Nope, no feelings at all.
Eddie holds a trash bag up for Buck and waits for him to stuff the stack of napkins and plates into it before setting that aside and washing his hands. Buck slips in behind him and Eddie quickly moves away to grab one of the few cupcakes that survived the night.
"Seems like everyone had a really good time," Buck mumbles with a mouthful of his own cupcake.
"Thank god," Eddie sighs. "I just wanted Christopher to be happy."
"First of all, when is he not happy? Second, you're, like, the best dad I know, so I don't think you could've let him down if you tried."
Eddie feels warm again, though it doesn't have the same sting as the embarrassment from earlier. "Um, I—thank you. I mean, thank you for all your help tonight. For bailing on the fun you could've had celebrating at a bar, instead of being here with us."
"Nowhere I'd rather be."
It's honest. Maybe too honest for a quiet conversation in the middle of the night. But Eddie smiles, eager to sidestep it entirely when he notices the streak of frosting smeared on Buck's upper lip.
"You're as bad as the kids," he groans, stepping toward Buck. Without thinking, he lifts his hand and swipes the pad of his thumb over Buck's mouth; before he can pull away, he feels Buck's fingers wrap around his wrist and hold him there.
"Would it really be so bad?"
"To leave cupcake frosting on your lip?"
It's a dumb thing to say—Eddie knows that—but the way his heart thumps in his chest makes it difficult to think or breathe or otherwise function in any sort of normal way. He wants to know what Buck is talking about it, but is afraid of it, too. Afraid of this moment and the way everything is about to change.
"To be a couple."
Think.
Breathe.
Function.
"No," Eddie whispers.
Still holding Eddie's wrist, Buck turns his head to kiss Eddie's palm, then drops their hands so he can lace their fingers together instead. His grin is a little goofy, maybe even shy, and he nods in response to this tender and tentative thing simmering between them.
"Okay, then."
"Did all of the parents of my kid's friends really figure this out before we did?" Eddie asks, wincing a little.
Buck laughs quietly. "Them and probably the entire 118."
"And Carla."
"Definitely Carla," Buck agrees. "What about Christopher?"
"Not sure whether he figured it out or just wished for it every day."
"I might have wished for it every day, too."
"Me, too," Eddie admits, quickly clearing his throat before things get too serious. "So, now what?"
"I guess I'm gonna have to stay the night. Wouldn't want to disappoint our fans."
"Guess so."
"Told you I should've brought my sleeping bag."
"Pretty sure couples can share a bed," Eddie replies.
So, they do.
And in the morning, they tell Tasha they'd be happy to attend next weekend's BBQ.