#queer feelings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hippolotamus · 1 year

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Fuck it Friday

Thanks for the tags @spotsandsocks @achillesbuck @alyxmastershipper @ajunerose 🥰

Tagging @elvensorceress @fatedbuddie @buddierights @shortsighted-owl @alysiswriting @this-is-bwr

Earlier this week there was a fantastic post from @rose-buddie on a topic I think about quite a bit. So, for this Fuck it Friday I'm sharing some Eddie & his queer feelings* from my fic Whatever may come (your heart I will choose)

yes it's lengthy, but... context *Adding the usual caveats about this being my take on things. It's incredibly personal and everyone will have their own opinions. Enjoy and be nice to one another 💙

“When will you come to visit, Edmundo?”

“Maybe when I’m sure you and Mom won’t try to trap me there,” Eddie retorts. He thinks he should feel bad about it, but he really doesn’t. He’s got a great life, with people who love him, right where he is. He’s tired of being made to feel guilty for not staying in El Paso. “You can come here, too.”

“We’ve been there!” his mother protests.

Almost a year ago when I got my shield.

“It doesn’t matter, we’re not talking about this now.” Eddie puts his phone on speaker so he can take his frustrations out on the dishes in his sink. Naturally, his parents move on to an equally grating topic.

“So,” Helena begins, “have you met anyone? A nice girlfriend you haven’t told us about?”

“Not really time to do that, Mom. Kinda busy with work and Christopher.” He scrubs at a plate coated with dried eggs and cheese instead of telling them that, yes, he has met someone and, no, they don’t need to know anything else. He knows better. One way or another they’ll break him down until he says more and that will only open the floodgates to an entirely different son they didn’t know they had.

With hardly any effort on their part, it’s the thing that breaks him anyway.

The ringing in his ears grows louder, drowning out whatever his mother and father are carrying on about. Maybe a neighbor, or one of his sisters? All he knows is the white noise and the constricting sensation building under his ribcage. It feels like it’s taking up too much room, crushing vital organs, and simultaneously hollowing him out.

Eddie doesn’t remember hanging up the phone, or dropping the plate. He remembers angrily scraping at globs of stuck on cheddar and coming back around on his kitchen floor next to shattered glass, hearing water still flowing from the faucet.

He tentatively sits up, inspecting his palms and forearms for stray bits of debris and scratches. There’s nothing he can see, just the way his hands shake when he holds them up. His head doesn’t hurt, but his back is stiff. How long was he down and out?

Eddie inhales through his nose, and forcefully exhales through his mouth. Again, and once more before he feels like he’s really come back to himself. His watch tells him only five or so minutes have passed. Only when his phone buzzes on the counter does he finally make himself stand, brushing off his jeans to see it’s his parents calling. They’ve called six times and left three voicemails. He should pick up the phone and call them back, so they don’t worry. He should. He will. Just not yet. He needs a minute – maybe a lifetime – to sort through what the fuck just happened. To identify why continuing to hide what his parents already don’t know made… whatever that was occur.

His phone buzzes again, only this time it’s his tiá, and he’s at least smart enough not to ignore her.

“Eddito, I just got a call from your Papá. What happened? He said they heard a crash and then nothing.”

“I’m fine. Really,” he insists. “ Just trying to do too many things at once.”

She hums skeptically, and he’s sure if he could see her face she would be frowning. He probably would, too, if he were her.

“You know you can tell me. You don’t have to keep it to yourself.”

He knows he could tell her. It’s not as if she and Abuela don’t already know about Buck. Hell, they probably knew before he did. Abuela and Pepa both cried and hugged him and, when they calmed down enough, demanded he bring Buck for dinner. They both understood that they were among the first to find out, other than Lena and Maddie, and vowed to keep quiet until he was ready.

“I will,” Eddie promises. “I’m just still figuring some stuff out.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. See you for Sunday dinner?”

“Of course. I’ll see you boys then.”

Eddie ends the call and leans back against the counter, crossing his arms like it’ll keep all these too-big feelings from escaping. He tries to dig into them a bit, sort through the fog and overwhelm. It only serves to make him more frustrated that he can’t put a name to what’s bothering him, to the cavernous ache that forms in his chest when he thinks about sharing Buck with the rest of his family. Eventually, defeated and irritable, he sighs, pushing off the counter to find the broom and dustpan.

❤️❤️❤️

He doesn’t tell Buck about what happened with the phone call and the broken dish. Not at first. It isn’t until nearly two weeks later that he decides to say something. Because it inadvertently ends up being Buck who gives Eddie the push he needs.

Eddie’s just gotten home from dropping Christopher at school and Buck is spending a few hours with Maddie. He intends to spend the time finalizing the grocery list, catching up on laundry, and changing the oil in the truck. He decides to start with the truck so he goes to the bedroom to put on some rattier clothes. When he tosses his henley to the bed, he spots the greenish-blue cover on Buck’s nightstand. Curious, he walks over to see what Buck’s reading now, expecting to find something on an ancient civilization or a biography on Nikola Tesla. Instead, it’s neither of those. Not even close. Eddie stares, a little dumbfounded, at the cartoonish pink lettering overlaying a drawing of two boys standing side by side, their backs to the viewer, and a scattering of pink leaves.

He picks up the book – Heartstopper Volume 1 – intending to flip through the first few pages and get a feel for what it’s about. A graphic novel isn’t exactly what he expects, or anything he thinks Buck would be interested in. It looks too mature to be something Buck might have bought for Christopher. Eddie doesn’t think he’s read an actual book since he enlisted, much less anything like this. As a kid he enjoyed the comics in the Sunday newspaper, or borrowing copies of Captain America and X-Men from the library, but that was it.

Instead of stopping, he continues reading, getting absorbed in Nick and Charlie’s story. Two teenage boys, riddled with insecurities, hiding themselves as much as their affection for each other. He carries it to the kitchen when he makes a sandwich for lunch, and then to the back porch when he’s full. It’s where Buck finds him hours later, sitting quietly on the steps with the closed book on his lap.

“Hey, Eds,” Buck says quietly, sitting next to him and bumping their shoulders together. “What, uh, what’s going on? I texted a few times while I was with Maddie. Guess you didn’t see any of those.”

Eddie wants to tell him that he must have forgotten his phone when he was getting changed, or that he’s sorry and hopes he didn’t miss anything urgent. Instead he stares blankly ahead and says, “I broke one of the salad plates.”

“Uh, okay. That’s- no big deal. It’s not like we have to replace the whole set or anything.”

He finally turns to look at Buck, noting the way his eyebrows are raised and he’s biting his bottom lip nervously. Underneath Buck’s anxious exterior, Eddie still sees what he’s always found there. You’re safe. I’ve got your back. You matter. So Eddie tells him about the phone call with his parents, the chasm in his chest when he thinks about telling them he’s not just friends with Buck – that they’re in a romantic, committed relationship.

“I didn’t know how to put words to it – this feeling – to define what it is. I’m not sure I know any better now, either. The thing is,” Eddie continues, “when I’m with you, I’m safe. When we’re out with Chris, holding hands and just… being together, it’s ordinary in the best fucking way. The three of us being a family is easier than breathing. There’s nothing to think about, it makes sense . I don’t feel any different. I’m not any different. I’m still me and yet with my parents I’m… not me? Like I’m continually locking a piece of myself away for their benefit and holding my breath until they’re gone. Does that make sense?”

“More than you know.” Buck doesn’t elaborate and Eddie doesn’t push for an explanation. Eddie knows he’ll say something when he’s ready.

“It’s kinda why I bought the book,” Buck adds, nodding toward Eddie’s lap. “Maybe it’s not a great reason, but so many people were raving about it online, and talking about how they wished they had something similar as teenagers. It wasn’t, like, FOMO or anything. Just- I knew I had to.”

Christ, what Eddie would give to have had anything like it then. Maybe, reading about someone like Nick — the popular rugby player who struggles with his image and sexuality — would have made it easier to have hope. Instead, it was all stories following the AIDS crisis and celebrities being called “brave” for coming out publicly. Even those positive moments felt more like flickers, sparks lost in an endless night sky. Like Luke.

After Buck’s accident, reading the letter and reliving memories of Luke was like examining artifacts left over from another time. A moment that happened to a long forgotten, shut away version of himself. Attempting to sift through them now, knowing what he knows, is akin to tiptoeing through a minefield. At the other end there’s a sixteen-year-old edition of Eddie asking – begging – permission to speak. Seeking answers for questions he didn’t know could be posed, and wanting to define feelings using words that didn’t exist yet. At least not in his world. Not in El Paso where, even if someone was some flavor of queer, it was kept in the shadows. There was an unspoken rule that it wasn’t discussed. It wasn’t a thing to be proud of. Or a way of life that Eddie ever saw as attainable for himself, even as coming out became more mainstream. After Shannon got pregnant, after Christopher was born, Eddie had his marching orders so to speak. He had a wife, and a son, and anything he desired before became irrelevant. Wiped away. Erased.

“Grief again,” Eddie mutters, with a sudden clarity.

Buck scrunches his eyebrows, understandably confused. “Uh, what did I miss?

Eddie checks his watch, they still have time before they have to get Chris. He quickly stands and holds his hand out to Buck.

“Can I show you something?”

His hands shake the tiniest bit as he leads Buck back to his – their? – bedroom. “If you, uh, want to sit you can. I just need to get something from the safe.”

Eddie stands in front of the closet, his quivering fingers poised to open it. It shouldn’t be a big deal to pull a door open, but right now it feels damn near impossible. Buck lightly touches Eddie’s sides, alerting him to his presence so Eddie isn’t startled. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist and hooks his chin over Eddie’s shoulder, surrounds him.

“Eds, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Buck’s voice is low and soothing in his ear. “Whatever it is.”

“No, it’s not that. I do want to.” Eddie tries to give himself permission to relax into Buck’s embrace, to let it settle him until the trembling stills and his heart doesn’t feel like it’s trying to escape his chest. “Um, there was an accident. A car accident.”

“You mean Shannon?” Buck asks when Eddie doesn’t say anything more for nearly a minute.

He sighs and scrubs at his forehead, frustrated that speaking — one of the most basic human skills — is so complicated at times. Eddie wants to keep facing the wall, to stay hidden, but Buck deserves better than that. Buck’s hands land at Eddie’s waist once he’s turned around and they can see each other.

“Um, not Shannon. Fuck, now that I’ve started talking out loud, this seems like… a terrible idea.”

Buck‘s hands move to Eddie’s face, carefully cradling him, and sweeping his thumbs back and forth across his cheekbones. “Hey, remember what I said? All your baggage. Anything. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie nods, taking a deep breath before he continues. “So, obviously Shannon and I were together for a long time. Since we were kids, basically. Like some great first love kinda deal. But she wasn’t that, not really. Not the first anyway.”

Eddie feels the impulse to run, to get as far from this conversation as possible. He knows what they said about having each other’s back, and taking on all their emotional “stuff”. That doesn’t make it any easier to say the words out loud. Even with Buck resting his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, patiently waiting for him to speak again.

“His name was Luke,” Eddie finally says. “He started at my high school in the beginning of junior year. His family had just moved from Vermont to be closer to his aunt and cousins and all that. Anyway, we started hanging out, became best friends. And then- we were more than that.” Eddie pauses, trying not to get caught in the tangle of memories. If the lump in his throat is any indication, he’s pretty sure his efforts are failing. “It was, um, a very different time. A different place. We hid everything, from everyone. Our parents, friends, people in general.”

“That’s… awful. What happened?” Buck asks quietly.

“A late 80’s pickup truck happened. Driving home from school and the other driver ran the red light. Died instantly. I never really thought about it before, but I guess that’s probably a big part of why I felt compelled to become an Army medic and always wanted to do something that helped people. I was reading that book today and it all just kinda hit me. I went to his memorial service, like all the other kids. Just another classmate paying their respects.” Eddie lets out an irritated huff, feeling the past resentment bubble up. “Funeral was for family only. I couldn’t mourn or grieve the way I wanted. The way I needed. Fuck, I couldn’t even talk to the stupid guidance counselor at school.”

“That must have been rough. How did you deal with it all?”

“Same thing as always, I guess. Threw myself into schoolwork, asked for more hours at my job, kept busy. Basically I didn’t deal with it. Just told everyone I was fine and moved on.”

“But you didn’t,” Buck says, more an observation than an accusation. “Move on, I mean.”

“No, not really.”

Buck bites his bottom lip and pinches his eyebrows together, like he’s working through something. Gathering fragments of information and trying to stitch them together. “So, this happened to you not once, but twice?”

“Almost three,” Eddie confirms quietly. Buck pulls him closer, burying his face into the curve of Eddie’s neck, like he’s apologizing for nearly dying due to circumstances beyond his control. Eddie holds Buck in return, one hand resting against the small of his back, the other rubbing soothing circles, reassuring Buck he’s grateful they’re here now.

Buck lifts his head to look at Eddie again. “Tell me what happened next?”

“There wasn’t much after that. Met Shannon and… well, you know the rest of that story. I guess it was more about the phone call with my parents the other week. Mom asked if I had a girlfriend I wasn’t telling them about, and I just got so angry. At first I thought it was just the usual pissed off about them prying where they don’t belong. And because I wanted to tell them about you. To be able to tell them about us. The more I think about it, what you said about how people wished they had something like Heartstopper when they were younger — I think that’s a big part of what’s bothering me. They assumed if I did have someone it would be a woman. I’m a grown man, with a kid, living in LA, and I still don’t feel comfortable telling them I have a boyfriend.” Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh, “I couldn’t do it then and I still can’t now. It’s like I’m sixteen all over again and having to hide who I am. There’s so much resentment built up because I never got to have this as a kid. I can’t go back in time, and I can’t get any do-overs. I just want to be able to have it all now. With you.”

Buck catches his eye again, looking serious. “Eddie, I- I wanna do everything with you. This is a conversation for another time, but, um, I know how it is to have to hide yourself — even as an adult. If you remember just one thing, I need you to know there’s no timeline here. Not with me. You can tell them or not tell them whenever you’re ready. I mean, I assume at some point they might come here and you’ll have some explaining to do.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that,” Eddie mutters.

“Either way,” Buck says, “I wanted you to know I’ll support whatever choice you make. When they call I can be your boyfriend or just the codependent best friend who’s constantly at your house hanging out with your super cool kid.”

“Thank you.” Eddie kisses him, chaste and soft. “For everything.”

“Anything,” Buck reassures him. They’re silent then, foreheads pressed together, until Eddie feels Buck shift like he’s furrowing his brow.

“You said you never told anyone,” he says, the implication clearly beginning to register. “Does that mean-“

“It means you’re the first person I’ve ever told any of this to. About any of it.”

“Eds,” Buck’s voice is shaky and Eddie can see tears forming when he pulls back just enough to look at Buck properly. “I- thank you. For trusting me with that.”

I trust you with everything. My life, my heart, my son, my future.

“Anything. Everything,” Eddie says instead.

“Can you- I mean, would you tell me more about him? About Luke?”

“What do you want to know?”

“How about just start at the beginning and we’ll go from there?”

“I’d like that,” Eddie says, leading Buck to the bed so they can lay curled up together.

Eddie tells him about the first day they met, and how he never expected Luke to want to even want to be friends with him. He fondly recalls lazy afternoons reading under the oak tree and how he never returned to the tree after the accident. He chose a new spot on a bench at the other side of the school. It had less shade, and wasn’t nearly as comfortable, but it didn’t hold as many bitter reminders. Not to mention Eddie’s classes and work took more of his time, so he wasn’t reading as much anyway.

“Hey,” Buck begins, carding his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “You said earlier you wanted to show me something?”

“I mean- it’s not- It’s nothing really.” In the warmth of the sunny afternoon, after hours of being engrossed in something that made him feel so seen, it seemed like a reasonable idea to share a physical piece of his past with Buck. Now that Eddie’s flayed himself open, it seems less so.

Unsurprisingly, Buck sees right past his flimsy objection, raising an eyebrow at him. “So insignificant you brought me back here, poured out years of grief, and told me things that you’ve never told anyone else?”

“Maybe?”

“Eds, you don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. Ever. You know that. I’m just sensing that maybe this isn’t nothing.”

“It’s not,” Eddie admits. “I just don’t want you to get freaked out by it. Like, I realize this might be a heavy thing now that we’re talking about it.”

“Heavier than telling me about your dead high school boyfriend?” Buck asks, eyebrow raised.

“Right,” Eddie gives him a quick kiss on his forehead before sitting up and making his way to the closet. He inputs the safe combination, pulling the door open to retrieve the box. Eddie walks back to the bed where Buck is laying on his side, propped up on his elbow, curiously eyeing the wooden object.

“This was the last thing he gave me. Well, only thing, really,” Eddie explains, tracing the outline of the puzzle box. “He left it in my truck at school as a surprise. But, it was the afternoon of the accident. So I never got to thank him or tell him what I thought about it. How much it meant to me even though I told him not to get me anything. I guess now I’m glad he didn’t listen.”

“Looks like he knew you pretty well. Have you ever thought of setting it out somewhere?”

“No? I mean it always felt too painful, and I never wanted to explain it. Besides, wouldn’t that be… awkward for you?”

Buck takes his hand, threading their fingers together. “It obviously means something that you held onto it. You don’t have to, but it won’t bother me if you do.”

Eddie leans down to press a kiss to their interwoven fingers, wondering what he did to deserve a partner like Buck. “I’ll think about it.”

Buck doesn’t say any words, but replies with his soft, only-for-Eddie smile, and manages to tell Eddie everything he needs to hear anyway.

❤️

Talking with Buck helps ease the ache in Eddie’s chest. The one that still makes him feel locked up and like he’s not allowed – or supposed to even want – to have this life he’s living. Buck gives Eddie the freedom to voice his frustrations, listening patiently and holding him or letting Eddie pace like a caged animal if he needs.

They rarely discuss Eddie’s time in the military. That’s still a piece of history Eddie’s not ready to poke at. It does come up during one of his venting sessions when Buck asks if Eddie had any similar feelings then. If Eddie ever felt out of place being in the army, or if he felt safe to be who he was even if he never said it out loud. At first, Eddie didn’t think it was an issue and tells Buck as much. It was war and death and trying to survive long enough to get home to his family. There was no room to think about who he was other than a soldier, a son, a father, a husband.

Not even when you were laid up in Afghanistan? his mind supplies. The thought surprises him until he starts mentally reviewing his time in the medical tent. A memory comes to him, fuzzy and dim at first, until it becomes clearer. He remembers the crackling static of a television and hearing the news: Wedding bells are ringing across the country in places like Texas and Alabama and Georgia. Places that some people thought this day might never come… From the Stonewall Inn in New York to San Francisco’s city hall, celebrations decades in the making. But, perhaps, none as meaningful as these. Same sex marriage ceremonies in states where it was illegal before today… ‘The time has come that Texas has finally caught up with history. Love rules’… ‘You wouldn’t think something so basic could take so long’.

Eddie remembers the way his breath caught as he listened while trying to appear like he wasn’t. At the time, his first thought had been wondering what his life might have looked like if this had only come ten years earlier. Would he have gone through with marrying Shannon? Would it have been okay to be who he was? Would it have been any more acceptable or would people stay stuck in their ignorance? His question was immediately answered when someone turned off the broadcast, mumbling ‘is this what the fuck we’re dying for?’ He remembers the way the light, airy bubble of hope had burst, leaving an acidic trail in its wake. The way he dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand, and bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to contain the tears threatening to spill over. He remembers how fucking alone he felt in that moment, and passed the time until he fell asleep reminding himself he had a wife and a son that needed him to forget who he was and get his shit together as a husband and father.

Despite all his talks with Buck, there’s a piece Eddie can’t quite put his finger on. Like a speck of dust on his eyelashes that he can’t see, but can’t get rid of either.

Bobby encourages Eddie to talk to one of the department therapists, but Eddie’s not so sure he’s really a therapy kind of guy. Even if he was more than willing to have Christopher see someone. Is a therapist really going to help with a situation like this when Eddie barely knows what this is? If he’s being honest, it takes so much effort for Eddie to open up to the people he does know — how’s he going to open up to a total stranger?

The universe, however, seems determined to pry Eddie open and make him spill out whatever poison has been left in his system. One morning in November, while he’s out checking off his to-do list, he runs into Michael Grant at the home improvement store.

“Hey, Eddie,” Michael tries to wave around the armful of lightbulbs he’s carrying. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Do you need a basket or something?”

“Oh, no. I’m fine. I was just about to check out actually. No Buck today?”

Eddie can’t help his automatic smile at the sound of Buck’s name. “Nah, he was pretty wiped out from our shift. He’s at home, dead to the world.”

“At home, huh? Things are pretty serious then.”

“Well, I-” Eddie feels his cheeks flush, heat creeping up the back of his neck. “Yeah, it is.”

Michael gives him a knowing smile, nodding his head slowly. “Good for you. I’m happy for you two.”

“Uh, thanks for that. I am, too. Really happy.” Because Eddie’s never been one to talk about himself he tries switching the focus back to Michael. “What about you? Anything or anyone new?”

“Work is steady, people always want new buildings. Kind of a shame with all the existing architecture, but no one wants to spend the money to renovate those. As for people… just me and the kids for now. Which reminds me, Athena asked if I could take them this weekend.” Michael manages to pull his phone from his pocket, still juggling the lightbulbs, to type a note for himself.

Eddie realizes he’s never talked to Michael much. Not just in general, but about the dynamic between him and Athena after their divorce. It’s not any of Eddie’s business, he knows that. He still has a nagging feeling that he wants to ask anyway.

“Can I ask you something?”

“As long as it’s not to help break into a bank vault,” Michael teases.

“No, I’ll leave that to Bobby. I was just wondering, um, what was it like… telling Athena?” Eddie doesn’t say the rest but he thinks Michael gets it from the way his expression softens.

“I don’t have anywhere to be. Do you have time to grab a coffee?”

There’s a few odds and ends to pick up for new shelving in Christopher’s room, nothing that can’t wait. “Yeah, I do.”

Eddie helps Michael take his armload of merchandise through check out and they agree to meet at a cafe a couple blocks away. They’re able to find a semi-secluded table near the back where they can talk without much interruption.

“No use sugar coating anything,” Michael says, stirring his hot tea. “It was one of the best and worst days of my life. On one hand I felt so relieved to finally say the words out loud. But it came at an astronomical price. I had to break my best friend’s heart, and I don’t think I will ever get over that.”

“I can imagine. Telling Shannon I thought we should get a divorce was hard enough. That was without realizing any of the feelings I had for Buck. I mean, maybe they were there? I don’t know. It’s not like I feel… wrong about being with him – far from it. The thing is-” What? Eddie cuts himself off, because this is the part that trips him up and makes him feel like he’s fumbling in the dark.

“You know who you are, but you’re not sure anyone else does anymore?”

“Kind of? I haven’t said anything to my parents or sisters yet. And I only kept it from my sisters so they didn’t accidentally tell our mom and dad. I guess I just know there’s going to be questions about Shannon, and did I always know or is it because I moved to LA? What am I teaching Christopher? Shit like that. It’s none of their business, but they’re not going to give up. Y’know?”

Michael purses his lips, nodding his head in understanding. “Oh, I do. First of all, you’re one hundred percent correct. It’s not any of their business how you conduct your life or raise your son. Christopher is loved, and well cared for, and that’s what matters. As for the other stuff… well, I wish there was a handbook, but, sadly, no one’s written one yet. There’s a whole lot of gray areas. You can plan your conversations, and your answers, to the letter. The truth is it will make you learn your boundaries and when to stand your ground. It’ll change from person to person and not everyone needs to know everything. It might not feel like it sometimes, but you’re the one holding all the cards, Eddie. You are the final decision of who has access to you and your family.”

“Huh, I never thought of it like that. Everyone at the 118 has been so amazing – my abuela and tía, too – I guess I just keep holding my breath, waiting for the fallout from my parents. They’ve never given me a reason to think it would be a problem, but they never gave me a reason not to either. Being raised in a Catholic household isn’t very conducive to saying ‘guess what? I’m gay’ or queer or whatever it is I am.”

Michael taps the table to get his attention. “You are Eddie Diaz, first and foremost. Got that? Second, labels are… a very personal thing. I’m a gay man. I feel comfortable labeling myself that way. For you, it might be something different or you might not want to pick a specific word at all. There’s no rule saying you have to choose one. And just because you love Buck now doesn’t mean it invalidates what you had with your wife. It doesn’t make it any less real. When Athena and I got married, I genuinely loved her. I still love her, it just looks different than before.”

Eddie sips at his coffee that could be classified as lukewarm at best, letting Michael’s words sink in. He turns them around in his mind and tries to match them with his own experiences. He did love Shannon, that was real. He loves Buck and he knows it’s not just because Buck is another man. Buck is obviously attractive, but he’s also kind, intelligent, and caring. He treats Eddie and Christopher well, and makes it clear every day how much he loves them both. He loves Buck because he is Buck and everything that includes.

“That all makes sense,” Eddie says. “You said the conversations look different for everyone, but how did you feel about yourself and how people might see you? Specifically what it was like after all those years of being married to a woman, and having kids.”

“Oh boy, that was a reality check. Deep down, for a lot of years, I knew who I was. By the time I was ready to take ownership of that, to share it with others… well, let’s just say I didn’t consider that not everyone had as much time to adjust to the idea as I did. For me, I was done living in the shadows, I wanted to tell the world. For Athena, Harry, May, my friends and in-laws, it was more complicated. Harry and May probably handled it the best, but that was still touch and go at first. I think Athena knew to a point, even before. It was still tough for her not to feel like she was lied to – and I get it. I made a promise to her, a vow. Who wouldn’t be hurt getting blindsided like that? Friends and coworkers’ reactions were all over the map. Some were supportive, others didn’t understand how I’d ever married Athena, and started a family, if I knew I liked men. Some were downright ignorant and we haven’t spoken since. I guess I spent so long knowing, it felt like finally being able to breathe. After I realized not everyone wanted – or needed – to know, I figured the rest would fall into place.”

“So, has it?”

“Mostly,” Michael says. “It’s an ongoing process. By now the most important people in my life know, and we’ve worked through it. We’ll probably do it again if I ever meet someone new, and again if I want to make him a permanent part of my life.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Eddie says around a chuckle.

“Uh huh, I wish. You’ll get there in your own time.” Michael gives him a warm smile that feels somewhat reassuring. “Say, have you considered finding any local groups? You can even find something online if you want. Don’t get me wrong, I am always here to talk if you want. In my experience you can never have too many resources. It might even be something for Buck to look into.”

“Maybe, I’ll mention it to him. Speaking of, I should probably get home and try to get a little sleep before it’s time to get Chris. Thanks, Michael, for being so open with me.”

“Of course! Here, let me give you my number if you ever need anything. Even if you want to text, we don’t have to talk.”

They exchange phones, adding their information before handing them back, and saying goodbye. Nothing is new except having a conversation, but Eddie does feel lighter, like he’s not quite so alone in his experience.

On the drive home he mulls over Michael’s suggestion about finding a group. Eddie knows it isn’t the same, but it still seems an awful lot like therapy and dumping his baggage on strangers. Maybe Buck will be more comfortable with it. If he is, he’ll want Eddie to go, too, but he won’t push if Eddie says no or not yet.

Any thoughts of therapy, or his parents, dissolve when Eddie gets home and climbs under the covers. Buck barely moves except to automatically snuggle against him to be Eddie’s little spoon. He tucks one arm over Buck’s side, molding them together as much as he can. Eddie manages to whisper I love you, pressing a kiss to Buck’s neck before sleep drags him under.

#fuck it friday #queer feelings #eddie diaz #evan buckley#michael grant #coming out later in life #hippo writes #whatever may come (your heart i will choose)#💙🦛

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