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Chris doesn't like when things change.
Things have changed too much, too often. Dad leaving, then Mom leaving, then moving to LA—which was fine, Chris loves it here now, but it was a lot . And then Mom came back, and he just managed to feel like things would be okay again when she—
Chris doesn't like change, and he especially doesn't like people leaving
He knows his dad's always gonna fight to come home to him, though. He knows that now. And Buck is such a permanent fixture, too. They're best friends, after all. Buck’s solid. Buck's not going anywhere, either.
Or, so he thought.
Because, as great as his Dad is, his track record with relationships is less than stellar.
First his mom, then Ana (who Chris had to work hard to stop calling Ms. Flores, and for what?). They both dated his dad, and it didn't work out, and they left. No matter how much they loved Chris, they left. His mom came back, sure, and maybe she would have stuck around this time, but she'd died before he could fully learn to believe that.
Chris had never really spent time with any of Buck's girlfriends, but he knows enough from snippets of conversations he's overheard through the years to know they all tend to leave, eventually, too.
He doesn't mind that his dad’s dating someone new. He's not dumb , he knows there's someone. The way his dad has been smiling lately, the way Chris catches him staring at his coffee, daydreaming like he isn't a grown man. The sleepovers Chris is suddenly allowed to go to on almost a weekly basis.
Chris is happy for him, really he is. He’s just not planning to let himself get attached to whoever it turns out to be, just in case. He doesn't need a step-parent, because he has Dad, and he has Buck, and that’s enough.
Whoever his dad dates, well. They'll probably leave, eventually. Chris doesn’t need to worry about them.
Then Dad and Buck sit him down one day, and they’re smiling, and Chris wonders if maybe they’re going on vacation or something, but then.
He sees it.
They’re holding hands.
Chris' face falls.
"No." His voice comes out wobbly, like he’s a little kid again instead of practically a teenager, and he sees the worried look Buck casts his dad's way.
They ask what’s wrong, and he just shakes his head. He can’t believe this.
Dad and Buck drop each other's hands.
His dad looks heartbroken, and the words are quiet when they slip past his lips. "I thought you'd be happy, mijo. Buck's part of the family for real now, he'll stay over more and we can—"
Chris can't hear it anymore. He stands up, grabbing his crutches, and storms into his room, slamming the door behind him for good measure.
It’s a while before the knock comes. His dad, probably. Coming to yell at him for not supporting his happiness, or not hearing them out, or slamming the door.
Chris wants his dad to be happy, but wasn't he happy with how things were before? Why do things have to change?
"Hey, buddy, can I come in?"
It’s not his dad. It’s Buck.
Chris sniffs and scrubs his eyes.
"Whatever."
Buck comes in slowly, and closes the door behind him before sitting next to Chris on the bed.
"You wanna talk about what happened back there?" Buck asks.
Chris is angry, and he was expecting Dad to be angry, too, but Buck doesn't seem to be. He looks sad, sure, but not in a way that makes Chris feel like it’s his fault, more like he’s sad that Chris is upset.
Chris shrugs, still stubborn even though the anger is fading fast.
"Why don't I talk, then?" Buck suggests, at his silence.
Chris isn't sure if he wants to hear it, but he nods anyway, and Buck takes a deep breath.
"I really love your dad, kid. More than I thought was possible. And I love you a lot, too.” It sounds like Buck is really struggling to put this in words, so Chris stays quiet, hears him out. “I want… I really love hanging out with you — both of you. I know that's…” Buck clears his throat. “I get it, if you don't want me around all the time. I'm not trying to get between the two of you, or replace anyone. Your dad and I… we talked about it, and if you don't want this, that's fine. I'll go back to my place, take a step back, and give you two—"
"No!" Chris yells again, interrupting Buck before he can finish that sentence. It feels like no is all he can say today. Because what Buck is suggesting, stepping back, leaving Chris and Dad on their own — that’s so much worse. It’s the opposite of what Chris wants.
They’re already ruining everything.
"Tell me what you want, Christopher.” Buck sounds even sadder than before, like he’s trying his best not to cry. “I promise, we only want what you want."
Chris struggles to find the words, everything too big and too scary. What he wants is to go back to yesterday, when it was the three of them, easy and safe, and nothing was changing.
"You can't leave us," he manages, eventually.
Buck frowns, and Chris can see a sparkle in his eye, sort of hopeful. "You don't want me to go?" he asks.
"Of course I don't!” Chris assures him. “You're my best friend, Buck."
Buck looks like he really is about to cry, then, and Chris realises— Buck had thought Chris didn't want him around at all anymore . And that won't do.
Chris has to be brave. He remembers his dad, all those times he told Chris that sometimes telling people the truth about how you feel can be difficult, but it’s still important to talk when things are hard.
"I want you to stay forever, Buck,” he says, finally. Buck’s face melts into a smile, but Chris isn’t done. “And that's... That's why you can't date my dad."
Buck reaches out slowly, and pulls Chris into a hug. Chris is probably getting a little too big for hugging, but he'd allow it, this once.
Buck gives great hugs, even dad thinks so. Except, ew. Now he knows they want to date , maybe that’s not cool anymore.
"I'm not going anywhere, Chris, I promise. Not ever, not if I can help it. You're stuck with me, okay? Until you get sick of both me and your dad, and you go off to college and leave us behind." Buck's voice is muffled, the words pressed into the top of Chris' head.
"But you'll leave," Chris tries to argue. “If you date him, you could break up someday, and then you'll go away. I don't want you to go away, not ever."
Buck's arms squeeze him tighter, then loosen enough that he can pull back and look Chris in the eye.
"Not ever, buddy. I promise. I don't know what— I love your dad, and I always will, I hope he always loves me the same way, too. I don't want to ever leave him, but I promise you, even if some day I mess up real bad, and your dad decides he doesn't wanna date me anymore, I'm never gonna let that stop me from being your friend."
"What if dad's the one who screws up?" Chris asks, managing a watery laugh which is met with an expression of sheer relief passing over Bucks face.
"Doesn't matter. No matter what, you’re stuck with me. You're the most important thing in the world, to both of us, and we're both going to work really hard to make sure we're always around for you."
Buck holds a hand out to Chris, pinky finger extended. Chris frowns at it.
"This is a pinky promise," Buck explains. "You link pinkies, like this—" he takes Chris's hand and hooks their pinky fingers together. "And whatever promise you make, you can't break. Ever . My sister Maddie and I used to make them for all the most important things, and now I'm making a pinky promise to you."
"You're not leaving?"
"Not ever. I promise."
Chris looks at their linked fingers, thinks of how excited and happy Dad and Buck had been to tell him their news, and he nods.
"I guess you can date Dad, then," he concedes. "If you really want to."
"I really, really want to."
"As long as you don't do any gross kissing in front of me."
Buck laughs, a proper one this time, where his eyes crinkle up and Chris can see all of his teeth. "Yeah, sounds like a deal. But you gotta promise me something too, okay?"
Chris frowns, not wanting to say yes or no until he hears Buck’s request.
"Your dad's pretty upset right now. He… he was really hoping you'd be happy for us, and your reaction hurt him a lot."
"I'm sorry, Buck." Chris looks away, staring at a scuff on the floor.
"It's okay, I get it, and he will, too. You were scared, and that happens to all of us. But I think your dad needs to hear it too, okay? Why don't you go out and talk to him? I'll hang out in here for a bit, to give you guys a little privacy.”
Chris nods, and hugs Buck again. He gets off his bed, and goes out to look for his dad.
He finds him sitting at the back door, but Dad stands and turns around as soon as he hears Chris approaching on his crutches.
He looks like he’s been crying.
Chris lets himself fall into his dad's arms.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles into his shirt.
"No, I'm sorry,” Dad tells him. “We shouldn't have just dropped it on you like that, I should have checked with you before—"
"It's okay, Dad. I get it."
They sit together, side by side on the back porch. Chris doesn't tell his dad everything, because he doesn't want to cry again, but he tells him enough. Tells him he’s scared of losing Buck, and Dad tells him in exchange how he was scared of the same thing, when he first told Buck he was in love with him. How Buck was scared of losing both of them, how that's why it took them so many years to start dating.
"None of us are going anywhere," his dad finishes.
"I know that now," Chris assures him. "Buck made a pinky promise with me. You can't break those."
Dad puts an arm around him, and Chris burrows into his side. They sit there in silence until Buck comes out to join them, sitting on the other side of Chris, putting his arm right there with Dad's across Chris's back.
He'd been wrong.
Maybe change doesn't have to be so bad.
Maybe some changes aren’t even really changes at all.