si tú no estás
Originally posted on 2025-02-23 on AO3
When Eddie leaves, it pours.
The car pulls away and Buck walks behind it a few steps, as if he had the strength to stop it one handed, as if he could reverse its course and put it back in Buck’s way. Buck’s hand reaches into empty air when Eddie’s car accelerates and his heart clenches in his chest. There’s something tragic about the way Eddie’s car disappears around the corner that Buck cannot fully verbalize, but that he feels nonetheless.
Eddie. Gone.
His vision blurs around the edges as his tears well up. Buck turns around, Eddie’s empty house looming in front of him like a ghost. The empty shell of a home that only feels complete with the people in it. Right now, it’s just another house on a busy L.A. street.
A sob escapes his throat, unbidden, and he can no longer hold the tears in. Buck cries under the rain hoping the showers will mask his agony. Because nothing has ever hurt the way his chest hurts now, except maybe those three minutes on the way to the hospital after Eddie got shot, when his life was bleeding through his fingers and Buck didn’t have to imagine what the world without Eddie would feel like.
It hurts because he never got to say all the things he should’ve said, he never got to tell Eddie the whole truth.
It hurts because Chris doesn’t want to come back to L.A. and as long as Chris wants to stay away, Eddie will stay away as well.
It hurts because Buck has no right to intervene, to ask them to stay in L.A., to beg them to stay where he can reach them.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and in hindsight, Buck has always known he is in love. Maybe he’s loved other people along the way, but he is aware that what he feels for Eddie is the stuff of legends. There’s no other way to put it. And now he’s lost it.
He’s lost it, right?
Eddie’s arm around him as he said goodbye, squeezing tight, holding on for dear life, makes him wonder.
Buck doesn’t know how long he stands there, soaking wet in front of Eddie’s porch, but he knows that when he gets into his car, he’s made a decision. He’ll tell Eddie exactly what he feels and put the ball in his court.
He knows he has to try. If there’s a chance, however small, Buck needs to take it.
The flight to El Paso is 2 hours long, while the drive is a little closer to 11 hours. Eddie told Buck he’d spend the night in Phoenix because he didn’t want to drive too late, so once Buck has cleared his days off with Bobby, he goes home to pack a night bag and waits.
Waiting has never been his forte though.
Absentmindedly, he watches a movie, pausing it several times to pace around his apartment. He bakes banana bread and cookies and then realizes he doesn’t have more flour to keep baking and paces some more.
What if Eddie doesn’t want him there? What if he’s relieved to be getting rid of Buck? What if he’s disgusted by Buck’s feelings?
No, Eddie wouldn’t. He has never given Buck any reason to doubt his compassion. Eddie will reject him softly, carefully, always conscious of Buck’s feelings.
Buck doesn’t know if he can handle listening to Eddie send him away.
Night falls and Buck goes to bed, setting an early alarm to drive to the airport. He tosses and turns for hours, eventually drifting into restless sleep, plagued with visions of Eddie’s beautiful face gently turning him away.
When he wakes up, there’s a small patch of tears drying on his pillow. Dream-Eddie’s rejection hurts, but he needs to hear it from Real-Eddie’s mouth before giving up.
The air in El Paso is dry and hot and within minutes, Buck is sweating as he anxiously makes his way out of the airport. Eddie calls him a little after he lands, unknowingly checking on Buck before he makes the last part of his trip.
Buck rents a car and drives at a leisurely pace through the town, knowing Eddie still has a couple of hours before making it to the city. He decides to kill time hanging out in a park close to Eddie’s parent’s home, but eventually feels awkward about it and leaves, driving mindlessly around town until he stops at a flower shop.
He’s not really sure why he stops there, but once he does, he’s convinced the universe is trying to tell him something. The bell rings when Buck makes it inside and a short-haired woman comes out of the back smiling at Buck.
“Good afternoon. Are you looking for something special?”
Buck hesitates but then admits, “I’m not really good at this. I’m about to pull a grand gesture and I feel like I should bring flowers.”
She cocks an eyebrow in his direction. “Like a ring in a restaurant grand or apologies-for-fucking-up grand?”
“More like flew-from-California-to-confess-my-feelings grand,” he says.
The florist looks impressed, but says “maybe you fucked it up enough that she moved away in the first place, I’m not psychic.”
“He’s here trying to get his son back,” Buck confesses, unsure about why he’s telling her that. “I’m trying to make up for not telling him before he left the state.”
“I see.” After a moment of consideration, she adds “what you need is a number 12 Deluxe. Red roses and stargazer lilies. I could throw in some red carnations for the metaphor. I don’t have any green, sorry.”
Buck smiles at her. “I’m sure Oscar Wilde won’t mind.”
“He was a man of style, if what I’ve heard was true.”
They chat about books while she puts together the arrangement in a complex, artful bouquet that feels like it should be a lot more expensive than the price she quotes at him. Buck slips a tip under a glass jar and leaves the shop with the flowers in tow. For a moment, he thinks he’s overdoing it, but he shakes his head. He only has one chance at this. He might as well, give it his all.
Eddie calls Buck when he arrives at the AirBnB he’ll be staying at to tell him he’s okay and that he’s going to his parents’ after lunch. Buck almost asks him for his address to go see him there, but decides against it, not wanting to corner him when he just arrived.
Later that day, when Buck has already driven all around town and doesn’t have anything else to do, Chris texts him.
[Chris 16:14]
did u know dad was coming over?
[Buck 16:16]
Yeah
Why?
[Chris 16:21]
a little heads up wouldve been nice
[Buck 16:23]
Sorry, buddy
I’ll make it up to you
[Chris 16:39]
I’ll send you a link
[Buck 16:42]
You got it
Are your grandparents mad?
[Chris 16:53]
eh
they’ll get over it
[Buck 17:12]
Hey Chris
Do you know where your dad is staying?
[Chris 17:15]
he’s staying for dinner
I’ll text you when he’s on the way
Buck fumbles with his phone when he reads Chris’ last text with the AirBnB address attached to it. Even though he knew Eddie wouldn’t be there for a while, he drove to the address and sat down the steps brandishing his flower bouquet that was starting to look a little wilted in the dry Texan heat.
Buck recognizes Eddie’s truck as it drives around the corner immediately. He doesn’t need to read the plate to know that in the driver seat, Eddie must be frowning as he notices the man sitting down the steps on the porch.
He stands up, flowers in hand and watches as Eddie pulls up, as he gets out of his car and hesitantly asks “Buck?”
If Buck had prepared better for this, this is the part where he’d have a speech prepared. It turns out that many hours driving anxiously around El Paso did nothing for him.
“Hi, Eddie.”
“Buck,” Eddie repeats, as if the air has been punched out of him. “You’re here.”
“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize I shouldn’t have let you go. Not like that. Never like that.”
Eddie walks in front of him, looking from the flowers to Buck’s face, then back to the flowers. “Then how?” he asks.
“Well, for starters I should have told you the truth,” Buck says.
“Which is?” Eddie presses.
“That I don’t want you to go. That I’ll miss you like a lung.” Eddie takes a deep breath as he eyes the flowers again. He’s walking towards Buck now, a hopeful expression on his face. “That I love, I love, I love you. That I never want to be apart from you—”
He never gets to finish his confession because suddenly, Eddie is there, grabbing his face with both of his hands and kissing him, hard and passionate, as if Buck is the oxygen he needs to keep on breathing. Eddie kisses him and Buck drops the bouquet he’s holding as he grabs Eddie’s waist to deepen the kiss, bringing him closer together than they’ve ever been. Buck knows it’s impossible, but he feels his very atoms dissolving in the air as Eddie’s mouth presses on, as his tongue licks into Buck’s mouth, as his teeth graze his lower lip. It’s so much better than he imagined. It’s more intense, more physical, it’s real and Buck’s doubts and insecurities are erased by the knowledge that Eddie is not rejecting him, Eddie is certainly not disgusted by Buck’s feelings.
When they pull apart, they’re both breathless, panting into each other’s mouths as their foreheads touch.
“You dropped my flowers,” says Eddie, with a smile on his face.
“I’ll get you new ones. Better ones. More of them—”
“Buck, all I care about is you being here. The rest is… whatever,” he finishes, waving his hand away.
“I should’ve told you before,” Buck admits.
“I should’ve said something as well. I’m glad you did. I… I don’t know if I would have if it weren’t—”
Buck kisses him briefly, cutting whatever Eddie wanted to say before it comes out. All that matters is this: Buck’s lips on Eddie’s, their whole future ahead of them —wherever that is— and Buck always willing to follow.