Before coming to California, Eddie did understand the concept of having family who wasn't blood-related. It's drilled into your head in the military to consider the people you serve with as much a family as the one you were born into. Hell, some of the guys he served with joined the Army just to find some semblance of family that they didn't have back home at all.
After he was injured and discharged, one of the things he missed the most was that reinforced sense of brotherhood. It wasn't something any of his just-to-pay-the-bills jobs managed to give him, and the feeling he'd disappointed his parents was amplified on his return, so there was no comfort to be had from that corner. As for Shannon, he'll take his share of the blame on why there was no real sense of family between them even before she left.
Becoming a firefighter solved so much of that basic loneliness that he knows he's clung to it like a lifeline. He has Abuela and Pepa, who approve of him far more than any other blood-related family member ever has, but the generational gaps between them don't provide that essential day-to-day companionship that he gets from the 118. He knows he got lucky with where he was assigned, to land among a handful of people who need bonus family as much as he does, and even more blessed that all of these people care so deeply for Christopher.
Some more than others. Very very much more than others.
Eddie's acknowledged just how much Buck loves Christopher and vice versa by setting up the guardianship in his will. He knows without a doubt that there's no one on the planet who will love his son as fiercely as he does aside from Buck. It's evident in every interaction Buck has with Christopher.
He can still feel the grief and terror tug at his chest when he remembers Christopher's pleading next to Buck's bedside in the hospital. Christopher's already lost one parent, and hearing him beg Buck to come back when Buck was in the coma still makes Eddie wake up in a cold sweat and cry all over again. Losing Buck would gut them both.
The thing is, he knows Buck loves kids in general. He's heard Hen chatting about how Buck is always happy to hang out with Denny and refuses to call it babysitting even when he's giving her and Karen a night to themselves. With Buck, spending time with Denny is just time with family, no other reason required. Maybe no one clearly acknowledged it out loud before the coma, but Buck is an excellent big brother to May and Harry, and anyone who has ever seen Buck and Jee-Yun knows that the man was tailor made to be a kid's favorite uncle.
Christopher is different from those examples though. He's always been different, and Eddie wonders how in the hell it took him four years to grasp what the difference is. Would he have figured it out at all if it wasn't for the letter from the school's PTO president in his hand that he opened by accident when he stopped to pick up Buck's mail on the way up to his loft?
If he's honest with himself, probably not, not even when he legally changed his will to make Buck Christopher's guardian should anything happen to Eddie. That's the worst case scenario situation, not admitting to Buck's true role in his son's life.
His.
Ha.
How long has the his been theirs?
"Are you going to stand by the door all day? And what did that letter do to you to get your best glare?"
Buck's amused tone snaps Eddie out of his thoughts. When Eddie looks up, Buck is standing at the counter in the kitchen, large mixing bowl tucked in the crook of his arm, and never missing a beat on stirring whatever it is while he watches Eddie and smiles. Considering the letter is a profuse thanks for agreeing to bake four dozen cookies, six dozen cupcakes, and eight loaves of sweet breads, Eddie guesses it's one of the above. He does double check his watch, though, and to his amazement, yes, it really is just seven in the morning and Buck and Christopher look as bright and chipper as he's ever seen them.
"Did you actually agree to provide half the contents of a bakery for the PTO bake sale at the Spring Carnival?"
Eddie glances back to the paper, and it's still the same overwhelming amount of baked goods. Maybe he fell asleep at work hungry while working the extra shift he volunteered for so Morales could take off early to be with her daughter who was about to give birth to her first child. He'd known about the Carnival tomorrow, since they've done the spring fundraiser every year Christopher's been at the school, aside from the year that will go unmentioned when everything was virtual.
He shouldn't be surprised to see Buck blush and duck his head. The little shrug also fits in how Buck pushes away praise for doing things that are above and beyond.
"Two of the other parents who usually bake a lot can't join in this year. Tabitha just changed jobs and she's working a ton of overtime, and Samuel's mom broke her hip and he's looking after her."
"Losing two bakers left this much unclaimed?" Eddie racks his brain to place Tabitha and Samuel but only manages the latter as possibly the dad to one of the girls who always seems to end up in Christopher's science class every single year.
"Nah. Just the cupcakes. I always do a bunch of cookies and Abuela does the breads, but she's in El Paso, so…" Buck trails off, pale skin still tinted pink.
"Buck and I like baking, Dad. It's fun and my teacher says it counts as math and science practice both," Christopher says, waving a carefully printed index card at Eddie.
There's about a dozen of the small cards laid out on the counter, with easily three times that tucked in a small recipe box. To Eddie's surprise when he steps closer, he recognizes Abuela and Pepa's handwriting as well as Buck's, Bobby's, and Christopher's. It seems this has been quite the group effort, and he's a little surprised that nothing's ever been mentioned before. It's not that Eddie doesn't know that Buck has been cooking with Christopher even back when Buck was still learning himself and barely a step ahead of Christopher in the learning process. This just seems like so much more than learning how to make scrambled eggs or occasionally making treats together for Christopher's class at Halloween or Valentine's Day.
"Do you want me to help?" Eddie asks, folding the letter up and tucking it into his back pocket to consider later and going to stick the rest of Buck's mail in the sorter he keeps for it.
The wary look on Buck's face is quickly suppressed, and Eddie tries not to laugh. Christopher has no such self-control and cackles as he shakes his head comically at Eddie.
"Baking is a different world than cooking, Eddie. I know you've gotten better, but…"
"But you think I'll be more hindrance than help?"
"I'm sorry."
Eddie waves off the instant apology. "How about this? I'll take over dish duty. If you're baking that much, that'll be a full time job all by itself."
Plus it means Eddie doesn't have to feel guilty that somehow Buck and Abuela have been spearheading the Diaz participation in the PTO bake sale for years without him even noticing the extent of it. Come to think of it, he can't remember the last time he got pestered to do any of the extras he hears Hen and Athena complain about that go hand in hand with having a child in school, and he suspects the sweetly smiling man in front of him is largely responsible for Eddie having the reprieve.
"Are you sure you don't need to sleep?" Buck glances at his own watch, frowning. "I thought you were going home to sleep before you picked up Christopher."
"We had one of those shifts that you won't let me use a certain word for, Buck. I actually got a full six hours of sleep before shift change."
He doesn't miss Buck's quick glance-over that seems to assess if Eddie appears well-rested, but luckily, he's not fudging. It really was one of the calmest, quietest shifts Eddie has ever worked, so he takes advantage of a pause in Christopher moving from measuring ingredients to sneak in a hug that makes his son roll his eyes, but he's grinning.
Buck huffs playfully. "What, no hug for me?"
"Yeah, Dad. Buck needs hugs, too."
With that sort of encouragement, Eddie can't pass it up. Buck's hands are busy, so Eddie decides to be a little silly and just hugs Buck from behind, just like he would Abuela or Pepa or his mother. But he doesn't tower over Buck, and not for the first time, Eddie enjoys the extra contact he gets from hugging Buck, splaying his hand across Buck's chest and feeling the steady beat of Buck's heart beneath his hand. Hugging Buck always feels so good that Eddie can't imagine why anyone can ever resist.
The best part is that Buck doesn't squirm away, even if he does keep his concentration on his baking task. Instead, he just looks at Eddie with the world's most contented smile, and Eddie knows that there's no place else Buck would rather be than in his sunny kitchen with Christopher and Eddie.
Being regulated to support staff on the undertaking is entertaining, because it means he can sit back and watch. It's obvious that Buck and Christopher have been doing this together for a long time, because they pass tasks easily between them with an ease that Eddie envies. There are obviously tasks Christopher can't do in the kitchen - like carry the pans back and forth between the counter and double ovens - but there's plenty that he can do, like measuring and mixing ingredients. The confidence displayed when Christopher makes the raspberry icing for the batch of lemon-yogurt cupcakes cooling on the counter without even asking for help from Buck makes Eddie want to hum with happiness.
There's a lot of giggling and sampling involved, and Eddie wishes he'd gotten involved sooner. Buck catches his wistful look as they start the last batch of cookies, and Eddie finds himself roped in to mix up the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. It puts him in close contact with Buck, and he supposes he shouldn't be surprised that they move in as easy a tandem in the kitchen as they do in the field at work.
"No wonder there are always so many dishes to wash after baking," he says, feeling more than a little guilty at the flashback to a different person baking with Christopher. He'd considered maybe Ana was just a messy baker, but Buck is almost painfully tidy as he works, probably a throwback to working in Bobby's kitchen at the firehouse, and there's an ungodly amount of dirty bowls and measuring implements.
"If you mix the wet and dry ingredients up randomly, they end up lumpy and that's how you get bites of flour in a cookie or cake," Christopher explains solemnly.
Buck nods, motioning for Eddie to pour another portion of the bowl of flour, baking powder, salt, and baking soda into the mixing bowl as he whirs the hand mixer slowly. It blends into the butter, sugar, molasses, egg, and vanilla already evenly blended, making the concoction slowly transform into something more recognizable as cookie dough.
"And just because sugar looks like a dry ingredient doesn't mean you treat it like one," Buck adds.
"That's because sugar dissolves into the wet ingredients and makes a syrup, Dad, and it stops flour from making gluten when it gets wet. It's chemistry!"
"Stopping gluten is important because…" Eddie's played this trivia game with Buck and Christopher so often now he knows his cues.
"When gluten is produced more slowly, the stuff you're baking is soft and fluffy, which is important for cookies or cakes."
Buck high fives Christopher for giving the answer before adding to it. "Chris likes the gluten part best, but there's this thing called the Maillard Reaction, which is where sugar caramelizes during baking, which makes the amino acids, peptides, and proteins transform and it's why sweets like cookies and cupcakes turn brown as they bake."
"And why they smell so good!" Christopher takes a deep breath, grinning, and Eddie can't help but copy him. Buck's kitchen does smell like a tiny slice of heaven thanks to all the baking.
They've folded in enough chocolate chips to make even the Cookie Monster happy now, with Eddie easily keeping his spatula out of the range of the beaters as Buck finishes mixing. All three of them roll balls of dough to set up on the parchment-lined cookie sheets, making short work of the dough.
"Do my mad scientists have a reason why we put the dough in the refrigerator to chill after all that work to have the butter at room temperature before we mixed it up?" he asks, wanting to make the moments together last. He's been watching Buck rotate trays from the counter to the fridge to the oven the whole time, and he really is curious by now.
"We warmed it up so that the butter would mix evenly, but now, we want everything cold so that when we put the cookies in the oven, it takes longer for the butter to melt and the cookies won't spread out as much. Chilling it dries the dough out a little, so that it concentrates the flavor and changes the texture a bit so that you get a chewy cookie instead of a doughy, soft one. The best cookie doughs are chilled for a lot longer than we're doing, maybe even days, but we didn't have time last weekend to prep ahead."
"That's okay, Buck. They're still going to be the best cookies at the carnival," Christopher says, and Buck's slightly guilty look banishes at the reassurance.
They move on to chatter about all the things Christopher wants to do at the carnival besides raise the most money at the bake sale. It's not until they've packaged everything up for transport to the school in the morning except the last four cooling loaves of cream cheese pumpkin bread that Eddie notices the time just as his stomach grumbles loudly enough for everyone to hear. It causes another round of giggling, including Eddie himself, and he stretches after he finishes drying the last mixing bowl and places it in the cabinet.
"Yeah, yeah. After all that cooking, how about I take us all out to eat?" He catches the side looks they give each other and hesitates. "Or what is it that you two usually do after all this baking?"
Christopher slides off his stool, navigating around to a covered tray Buck set out on the counter earlier and uncovering a beautiful pair of porterhouse steaks.
"Just two? What are you going to eat, mijo?" Eddie teases. The steaks are massive, and he suspects they could all three share one, especially since he imagines Buck has some sort of side dish or three planned.
"Dad!" Christopher rolls his eyes before reaching for the olive oil bottle near the stove top and beginning to prepare the steaks while Buck steps out onto the balcony to light the grill. "Buck and I usually share one, and we have vegetable kabobs, too. Then we have cookies for dessert."
Ah. That explains the extra three dozen or so cookies he saw go into containers rather than the cute little resealable cookie display bags. He hopes some of them are for the team on their next shift and that they don't normally eat all three dozen in celebration, but between Buck and Bobby, so many treats get brought to work he can't recall if there are usually sweets the shift after a school event like this or not. Those cookies looked a bit different than the bake sale ones, too.
"We made extra cookies for you," Buck says as he crosses to the fridge and fetches out a tray laden with skewered vegetables. "And there are even bell peppers on your kabobs."
Christopher giggles. "We never eat peppers when you aren't here."
"I didn't figure you did, considering Buck sneaks all his peppers on my plate whenever we eat together, like I won't notice the extra."
Buck just grins. "I haven't seen you object or put them back even once."
"That's because you've been eating all my mushrooms." Eddie peers at the trays as Buck moves past him back to the balcony, and sure enough, three of the nine skewers have a rainbow of bell peppers amid the zucchini, squash, cherry tomatoes, and onions, but none of the button mushrooms or Brussels sprouts he sees on the others. It would figure that Christopher still refuses to eat broccoli, even for Buck, but eats its round evil twin.
As Christopher follows Buck outside, Eddie lingers behind, going to fetch and open bottles of beer for him and Buck and a bottle of the Japanese fermented milk drink Christopher's been obsessing over lately. He sets the bottles on the counter, sneaking a drink of his own beer while studying the two out on the balcony. They have their backs to him, and Eddie wonders how he's never really picked up on how much alike their body language is. There are still glimmers of Shannon in Christopher and always will be, especially in his coloring and the big, bright smile they share, but if he were a stranger seeing Christopher these days, he'd absolutely think Christopher was Buck's biological child.
Christopher says something Eddie can't hear, but it makes Buck laugh as he turns the kabobs and steaks before slinging an arm across Christopher's shoulders and drawing him in for a hug. Eddie doesn't miss how Christopher leans easily into the embrace and doesn't object to the kiss Buck presses onto his messy curls.
Jesus Christ, the love between those two can probably be seen from space, he thinks.
Then Eddie is a little jealous because Christopher has been pushing for space more and more these days, and he's as likely to squirm away from affection as accept it. Logically, he knows it's a familiarity issue, because Buck isn't around every single day to increase his odds of encountering Grumpy Chris versus the adorable muppet currently snuggled against him. When he thinks about how much easier he has it as a single dad than some, mostly thanks to Buck stepping up to the plate with no more than Eddie's assurances that he knows no one on earth cares for Christopher as much as Buck does, he wonders if there should be more than a piece of paper that only legalizes Buck and Christopher's roles in each other's lives if Eddie dies.
There should be more. It shouldn't require a tragic loss of one of their trio to make them officially, legally family, in all the ways that no one could challenge if Eddie's luck ever runs out.
Eddie remains patient about this epiphany, although Buck knows him well enough to know that something is off, darting little concerned looks Eddie's way whenever Christopher is suitably distracted by post-dinner cookies and absorbed in a movie. It doesn't surprise him all that much when Christopher begs to stay the night; that was happening regularly before the lightning strike, and after? The fact that Buck's mother bought a sleeper sofa just means that Buck isn't camping out on a sleeping bag while Christopher luxuriates in Buck's giant bed. He certainly prefers the convenience for Christopher over the alternative, which is that Buck's parents used it once and left town, and Eddie doesn't have it in him to believe they'll be coming for regular visits like they said was the intent behind the couch.
They find themselves lingering in the kitchen once Christopher is settled for the night and snoring softly, sneaking hojarascas from Abuela's recipe that Buck made just for the three of them since she always declared the cinnamon sugar-coated shortbread cookies to be far too messy for a bake sale, and sipping at beer. Their chatter is normal easy patter about how close the end of the school year is and Christopher's summer plans. Eddie knows he should head home but can't quite close the distance between himself and the door. When his beer is done, he rinses the bottle and stashes it in the recycle bin. Another would give him more time with Buck, because he'd have to wait to drive home - or stay the night.
He really doesn't want to go home to an empty house.
But he doesn't reach for that beer, instead tugging the letter out of his back pocket and unfolding the envelope on the counter. He allows himself a smirk, a smug look meant to tease Buck, before easing it toward his best friend.
"To the parents of Christopher Diaz," he drawls. "Generic enough addressing, could be anyone sticking it on there, although it's got your address instead of mine."
Buck leans in to peer at the envelope. "Yeah, the PTO hasn't quite joined this century on the different types of families out there. Pretty sure they stick that mailing label on Abuela's letters for Christopher's events, too."
"Well, yeah. I bet they do. But the letter inside… that's not completely generic at all."
Some of it is, a mass produced form letter with blank lines for Christopher's name and the promised baked goods are handwritten in. Below the generic bits is a personal note, written in old-school feminine-styled cursive like they don't teach in school anymore. The gushing thank you mentions Buck by his chosen name while wishing that every father participated with the year-after-year dedication that Buck has shown to the PTO, and then goes on to suggestion even more involvement.
"Honestly, after seeing you prep for the bake sale, I think you should take Maya up on her request to run for PTO president next year."
"What? I already agreed to chair the back to school barbecue in August, but president feels like something for one of the parents." Buck unfolds the paper and studies it with a puzzled expression that turns embarrassed and disgruntled. "Eddie, I've never said I was Christopher's father."
"I'm not offended by other parents giving you a title you've more than earned." That startles Buck into meeting Eddie's gaze. "To be honest, it got me to thinking that we should have done something after I was shot to sort that issue out."
"Eddie, you told me I was Christopher's guardian after you were shot. That's plenty that you've done."
"It's far too little, Buck, just an emergency fallback plan that does nothing for the day-to-day acknowledgment you've earned."
He smiles and sticks his hand over Buck's mouth when Buck starts to protest. The maneuver brings him nearly chest-to-chest with Buck, and a little voice in the back of Eddie's mind chirrups - not for the first time - that they cross far too many physical boundaries with each other for simply best friends.
"I think it's time you adopted Christopher."
The hard swallow Buck does at Eddie's words makes his lips move across Eddie's palm as if he's kissing it. He drops his hand then, although he can't ignore that his skin is tingling in a way it shouldn't in reaction to Buck, a way it hasn't really reacted since Shannon. It's what was missing from his time with Ana, he realizes, and he's a little stunned as the idea creeps in that spending time with Ana felt like a solid friendship versus time with Buck, which has always been…
Like this. Up in each other's space and comfortable with it. Touching without even a second thought about whether it's really appropriate behavior. Easily assuming they'll co-parent Christopher without ever really discussing it. He'd never batted an eye to hearing that Buck looked after Christopher instead of Ana, and if the blackout hadn't been all hands on deck, Eddie knows Buck would have been his first choice then as well. Eddie knows he loves Buck, and that Buck loves him. He's even expressed as much, as has Buck.
But this? This emotional sucker punch that makes him want to laugh and cry and go just a little bit crazy? This moment that tilts his world on its axis?
He's in love with his best friend.
For now, he files away the dawning realization that he can't manage a relationship outside of whatever this is because he doesn't need the companionship or affection or interaction at all from anyone else. He already has it with Buck, has had it for literal years.
Buck is as wide-eyed and shocked as Eddie has ever seen him, opening and closing his mouth but failing to speak. Eddie isn't really surprised to see Buck tear up. He's working on expressing his emotions better through therapy, but he's always envied Buck the easy way Buck gives in to whatever hits him. He imagines plenty of people have tried to enforce the stereotype on Buck that men shouldn't cry, but Buck sure as hell never listened.
"My god, Eddie, how could you imagine I'd ever say no if you really mean that?" Buck is shivering, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as if he can't decide between excited bouncing and just bawling like a baby. "Are you serious?"
"So serious that if it wasn't after five on a Friday, I'd be on the phone to my lawyer to find out just what we have to do."
The thing is, Buck has always given the most amazing hugs. He's big and tall, so much so that even Eddie can feel engulfed by Buck's warm enthusiasm for just showing how much he cares for everyone around him. It isn't often Buck is so unrestrained that he literally lifts Eddie off of his feet, but he does that now. Eddie thinks this might be why Christopher makes a beeline for a Buck hug as a greeting. He returns the affection, smiling and shaking his head when Buck finally sets him back on his feet.
Buck is crying in earnest now, but grinning so broadly it looks like it ought to hurt his face. Eddie can't resist reaching up to cup Buck's face between his hands, stroking his fingertips lightly in the tender spots behind Buck's ears. It's meant to comfort, but everything shifts in an instant when Buck hitches a breath and leans in to kiss Eddie.
It's brief, chaste, and wet, reminding Eddie of the kissing scene in that Harry Potter movie that Christopher declared gross and probably snotty. The thought distracts him just enough that he doesn't respond back in time, and Buck surges away, looking horrified.
Recognizing that Buck is about to flee, maybe even forget that he's in his own apartment in his embarrassment, Eddie moves fast and pins Buck against the counter. Buck definitely isn't expecting the capture move and yelps before darting a glance to where Christopher doesn't so much as twitch where he's sleeping.
"I'm sorry," Buck mutters, and Eddie thinks he might be about to repeat it, so he figures if a hand stops Buck protesting, a kiss will do so much better.
He's right, and all the tension bleeds out of Buck when Eddie kisses him, teasing Buck into opening his mouth by nipping at his bottom lip so Eddie can explore. Buck tastes like sugar and cinnamon, no hint of the beer they'd drank, and Eddie thinks he tastes better than the cookies themselves did. Eddie has never kissed someone taller than him before, but it's not as strange as it might be, no different than having his partner sitting in his lap while kissing. Remembering the touch that drew Buck to kiss him in the first place, he glides a hand to cup the back of Buck's neck, and Buck makes a moaning sound that makes Eddie glad it's muffled from their kiss. Buck kisses him back with a raw enthusiasm Eddie isn't sure he's ever encountered before, somehow melting against Eddie as if they've done this a thousand times instead of twice.
It's lingering, arousing, and still wet, but no longer due to tears, and Eddie pants to catch his breath when they finally part before reaching up to wipe away what remains of Buck's happy tears.
"Jesus, Buck. Was that an impulse kiss or…"
He arches a brow, and Buck laughs softly, letting his forehead rest against Eddie's. His hands are resting on Eddie's hips, and the tip of his index fingers are stroking the skin on Eddie's back just above his waistband.
"I won't say it hasn't crossed my mind now and then," Buck says softly. "But you never seemed interested in men."
"I'm not sure I'm interested in men at all." Eddie considers it, and while he can admit a passing thought that he's seen other men who are good looking, that's just being honest about what nature gifted those men with. Buck certainly falls into the gifted category, but it isn't his looks that make Eddie consider him beautiful. It's everything about Buck, but most especially how he's adored Christopher from day one. "But I am sure that I'm interested in you."
Buck lights up like a Christmas tree, smiling shyly before stealing a quick little kiss. "That feeling is completely mutual."
With anyone else, Eddie would hesitate to bare his soul, but this is Buck, who has never, ever hurt Eddie intentionally. Eddie thinks Buck is probably incapable of dealing out deliberate damage to anyone he loves, and even if Buck's romantic interest isn't quite there yet, he would never reject Eddie's words. So he risks it, trusting that like in every other part of their lives, Buck will catch him when he makes the leap.
"More than just interested. I'm in love with you." Eddie's breath catches at the sheer joy on Buck's face at his words, so he doubles down. "I am one hundred percent head over heels in love you, Evan Buckley."
He's only speaking the truth. Now that he's allowed himself to realize it, Eddie can feel it as if it's as essential as breathing. He's in love with Buck, and it isn't terrifying or frustrating.
It's glorious.
It's breathtaking.
It's… even better when there's no hesitation when Buck says it back.
"I'm in love with you, too, Eddie. I think maybe I have been since you brought Christopher back to me after the tsunami."
They are certainly two of a kind, looking for everything that was missing from their life and not realizing they'd already found it in each other.
There's plenty to go over and figure out, with the adoption and with how this changes their work partnership, but for once Eddie is going to worry about all the details later. Tomorrow, he might even figure out a way to send this Maya lady flowers for accidentally kickstarting Eddie into gear where his family is concerned, and he knows their friends and family will laugh themselves silly over this happening over something as simple as cookies. Tonight, though, he is going to revel in the fact that he can wrap his arms around Buck and nuzzle into the soft skin of his throat, and know that he's exactly where he belongs.
A/N: This was written as a Reverse Bang fic, which means I was assigned a beautifully drawn piece of artwork as inspiration for the fic. If you want to see the art that goes with it, you'll need to visit the AO3 version of the story. Just look for DarkTidings (without the space).