Archive of Our Own

$1,046,803,837.24

Buck stares at the number on the screen.

He’s double-checked, triple-checked, even quadruple-checked—and yet, every time, the number remains the same.

A billion dollars.

More money than he could ever possibly spend. More money than he wants to have.

His fingers drum against the desk as he exhales sharply. Okay. He can handle this.

The first thing he does is set up a college fund. $10 million, divided up for every kid he knows—Chris, Jee-Yun, Denny, May, future nieces and nephews, any future kids he and Eddie might have. (Not that he’s expecting to have kids with Eddie. More like his kids or Eddie’s kids, if they choose to have any.) 

It barely makes a dent.

He pays off May’s student loans.

Still nothing.

Frustrated, Buck donates $500 million to the LAFD. When his balance remains obscenely high, he donates another $500 million just to see it drop.

$36,603,837.24

There. No longer a billionaire.

Still, it’s so much money. More than he’ll ever spend, especially since it’s collecting interest at a ridiculous rate.

So Buck keeps going.

He pays off Eddie’s house in Texas.

He buys the house in LA—the one Eddie and Chris deserve to come home to. That one takes some work, more hoops to jump through, but he manages. He’s always known Eddie’s passwords, and the security questions are laughably easy when you know someone as well as Buck knows Eddie.

$35,103,837.24

And yet, even after all that, it still feels too much.

The thing is—Buck never meant to win the lottery. He didn’t want the responsibility that came with this kind of wealth, didn’t want people looking at him differently.

It had been a joke.

A throwaway comment from Chimney at the end of a brutal 48-hour shift.

"Hey, maybe we should all play the lottery. Maybe one of us will strike it rich."

And Buck? He had nothing better to do. Eddie and Chris were in Texas, and he was restless. So he stopped by the gas station and played the same numbers he’d been playing for years.

9 13 11 30 7 23

Chris’s birthday. Eddie’s birthday. The day of the tsunami.

And just like that—he won.

A $1.81 billion jackpot. Paid out in full. Taxes handled. His name kept completely anonymous.

Now? Now he has no idea what to do with it.

Well, some idea.

He pays off his credit cards.

• $15,378.90

He pays off the truck.

• $20,678.56

He pays off his medical debt.

• $13,567.89

And still, his bank account mocks him with far too many digits.

Buck is smart enough to know not to keep all of it in the same place.

On his next day off, he walks into a high-class bank—the kind with 20+ security guards and the kind of clientele that makes him feel like he doesn’t belong—and sets up a new account.

He leaves $20,000 in his everyday checking account, anything more making him nauseous.

The rest? Locked away in a high-security account, sitting at $36,534,211.90 and growing every single day.

0.06% daily interest.

Which means Buck is making over two million dollars a day just by existing.

That thought alone is enough to send him spiraling, so he locks the checkbook and the heavy-duty credit card they give him in a safe and tries not to think about it.

It takes two weeks to get everything sorted. Two weeks of signing papers, setting up accounts, securing his anonymity.

And once his everyday account has only four zeros?

For the first time since seeing that winning number, Buck finally breathes.

At least until people start asking questions. People meaning Eddie.

“I went to make my mortgage payment, and my balance was zero. Nothing. Nada!”

Buck has his brand-new iPad—an unnecessary but irresistible purchase—propped up against the backsplash while he mixes together his dinner. The sleek screen reflects the warm kitchen lights, casting a soft glow over the counter as he absently stirs.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, feigning nonchalance as he focuses on his bowl. “Did you call? Maybe there was a mix-up.”

“Oh, you bet I called them. And you want to know what they said?”

“Huh?”

“That it wasn’t a mistake.” Eddie pauses, his voice tight. “They’re mailing me the deed.”

Buck glances up just in time to catch Eddie blinking rapidly, his jaw tightening like he’s trying to keep his emotions in check.

Eddie’s been working two jobs since he moved to Texas, stretching himself thin, barely finding time to reconnect with Chris. And Buck—well, Buck is just glad that, thanks to an accidental stroke of luck, he can take something off Eddie’s plate.

“So,” Buck asks, treading carefully, “did they say how it happened?”

“It was all very weird.” Eddie rubs a hand over his face, still clearly in shock. “They said they had an anonymous donor who wanted to pay off the houses of a few lucky buyers, and I just... got lucky, I guess.”

Buck keeps his eyes on the sauce he’s pouring over his chicken, hoping this won’t be the moment he gets caught.

“Maybe it was the universe telling you to take a break,” he suggests, nudging Eddie lightly. “Stop working yourself to the bone.”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head. “The universe isn’t telling me anything. Some rich bastard probably just wanted to clear his conscience before kicking the bucket.”

“Yeah, well.” Buck grabs his iPad and heads for the living room, leaving the chicken to bake. “Maybe you should still take it as a sign. Quit one of your jobs, spend more time with Chris.”

“Oh, you better believe I called Gary the second I realized this wasn’t a fluke and told him not to expect me back.”

“Good riddance, Gary.”

Gary, the lead security guard at the law office Eddie worked at from 4 p.m. to midnight, had been an insufferable pain in the ass. Always on a power trip, always making Eddie’s life harder than it needed to be. Buck is more than glad that Eddie will never have to deal with him again.

“Haha, yeah,” Eddie laughs, and Buck’s heart does something weird in his chest.

Buck spends the night on Maddie and Chim’s couch, his mind running in circles.

Maddie and Tommy had both implied that he was in love with Eddie. Then, when he denied it, they didn’t seem convinced.

Eddie’s straight, though.

At least, as far as Buck knows.

But when he replays the conversation with Tommy in his head, a cold realization settles over him.

I don’t have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for, and I don’t have to have feelings for everyone I sleep with.

It had been a heat-of-the-moment response, but looking back, it sure as hell made it sound like he had feelings for Eddie.

And Tommy—Tommy had said Buck had a better chance now that "the competition" was gone, implying that he’d been jealous.

Which means...

Tommy thought they were more than just friends.

After five long, exhausting hours of overthinking, Buck reaches an inevitable conclusion: Maybe Tommy and Maddie were right.

Maybe—despite how much he wishes they weren’t—he does have feelings for Eddie.

“Buck?”

He blinks and refocuses on the iPad screen. Eddie is looking at him with concern. “You okay? You spaced out on me for a second.”

“Oh, uh.” Buck clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about some conversations I’ve had recently.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? About what?”

“Nothing interesting,” Buck says—too quickly.

“Uh-huh.” Eddie doesn’t buy it for a second. “Look, as long as it wasn’t with Tommy again, I don’t care what you do, man. I mean—weeks! I spent weeks trying to keep you from calling him back, and then Ravi ruins it in one night. I’m going to have words with him when I get back to L.A.”

“B-Back to L.A.?” Buck feels like the ground shifts beneath him.

“Well, yeah—” Eddie hesitates. “At least, that’s the idea.”

“Has Chris—?”

“He’s said he misses things there. So it’s a stepping stone.”

Buck swallows down the hope clawing its way up his throat. “Well, th-that’s good.”

“Yeah.” Eddie grins, and Buck has to fight to keep his own smile from taking over his entire face.

“But I don’t know,” Eddie adds, “you’ve been making some questionable choices in hookups lately. Maybe I should stay in El Paso to make sure you don’t call Taylor next.” He shudders. “I never want to see her again if I can help it.”

Buck groans, grabbing a pillow to cover his face. “No, I—ugh. I learned my lesson. Never again.”

“Good.”

A moment of comfortable silence passes before Buck hesitantly asks, “Hey, uh, does Chris still need a new iPad?”

“Yeah. His is too old to download the programming software for his STEM class.” Eddie sighs, then stands up. Buck’s eyes—completely involuntarily—drift lower. That’s between him and the FaceTime screen.

Eddie comes back into frame with a beer in hand. “Guess I’m still gonna have to pick up a few extra shifts to pay for it.”

“Or—uh—I can send him my old one.”

“Old one?” Eddie gives him a look.

“Yeah, I bought a new one over the weekend.”

“Wasn’t your other one, like, less than a year old?”

Buck chuckles. “Yeah. But I wanted a different color.”

Eddie shakes his head. “See, this is why your credit score is the way it is.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The oven timer beeps, and Buck grabs the iPad, heading back into the kitchen to finish his chicken.

Eddie’s voice softens. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I’ll send it tomorrow.”

“At least let me pay for it.”

“Absolutely not.”

Eddie sighs, shaking his head with a small smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve heard that a time or two,” Buck says, flipping the chicken before sliding the pan back into the oven. He wipes his hands on a dish towel and leans against the counter, watching Eddie through the screen.

There’s a beat of quiet before Eddie tilts his head slightly, studying him. “So… what conversations were you thinking about earlier?”

Buck’s stomach twists, and he quickly busies himself adjusting the oven temperature—something that doesn’t actually need adjusting. “I told you, nothing interesting.”

Eddie hums, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh.” He takes another sip of beer, watching Buck like he’s waiting for him to crack. “Not Tommy again?”

Buck makes a face. “No. Definitely not Tommy.”

“Good.” Eddie’s voice is firm, and Buck looks up in surprise. There’s something in his expression—something unreadable, just for a second, before Eddie schools his face back into neutrality.

Buck swallows. “Maddie, actually.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “About?”

You. Us. The fact that apparently everyone but me has noticed I’m in love with you.

Buck shrugs, trying to play it off. “Just, you know, life stuff.”

Eddie snorts. “Wow. That’s specific.”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

Buck sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. Maddie and Tommy seem to think I… have a thing for someone, and I didn’t exactly agree, so they spent the whole conversation trying to convince me I’m wrong.”

Eddie stills for half a second—so quick Buck almost doesn’t catch it. Then he recovers, casual as ever. “And? Were they right?”

Buck lets out a strained laugh. “I mean… if they were, I wouldn’t just admit it, would I?”

Eddie smirks. “You suck at lying, Buck.”

Buck huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it doesn’t matter, okay? Either way, I’m not acting on it.”

Eddie’s eyes flicker with something unreadable again. “Why not?”

Buck freezes. His brain short-circuits. His heart is suddenly in his throat.

Eddie’s looking at him, waiting, like this is just a normal conversation and not the single most terrifying moment of Buck’s life.

He forces a laugh, trying to keep it light. “Well, for one, I don’t even know if they’re right—”

Eddie gives him a look.

“—and two, even if they were, it’s complicated.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t push further. Instead, he just leans back, swirling the beer in his hand. “Complicated doesn’t mean impossible.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. He swallows hard. “Maybe not.”

Eddie watches him for another long moment, then nods, like he’s filing that response away for later. “Well. If you ever do figure it out, let me know.”

And then he takes another sip of beer, completely unbothered, while Buck forgets how to breathe.

***

The box arrives on Eddie’s front porch two days after their conversation. 

Eddie: 

How’d you get this here so fast? 

Buck:

Overnight shipping. 

Chris needs it for school 

Can’t be waiting a week for the USPS

We need to sit and talk about your financial habits 

Relax

It’s all good 

Promise 

What? You win the lottery or something 

Nah man 

I’m not that lucky 

More likely to get stuck by

lighting than win the lottery right?

Haha yeah 

One for two 

Kinda wish you would

won the lottery instead 

Yeah 

Me too  

Eddie carries the box into the kitchen and uses his pocket knife to cut it open, expecting just an iPad—but there’s way more inside.

A few cases, a new pair of headphones, an Apple Pencil, and a couple of App Store gift cards, along with some for the games Chris likes to play.

Frowning, Eddie pulls his phone from his pocket and dials Buck’s number. It rings twice before he picks up.

“Yes?”

“Evan Buckley!”

“Edmundo Diaz.”

“I’m being serious, Buck!” Eddie drops into a chair at the kitchen table. “What the hell is all of this?”

“Stuff for Chris. You should have something in there too.”

Eddie stands back up, sifting through the box. Sure enough, at the bottom, there’s another package—a set of high-end insoles for his work boots. Three pairs.

“Buck—”

“What? You’ve been complaining about your feet killing you when you get home. Figured these couldn’t hurt.”

“These are like $150 a pair, and you bought three.”

“Eh, no biggie.”

“No biggie?”

“Seriously, Eddie, don’t sweat it.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say. There’s at least $2,000 worth of stuff in this box, maybe more.

“Buck—” He wipes a hand over his eyes, his throat tightening. “It’s gonna take forever for me to pay you back for all this.”

“Did I ask you to pay me back?”

“Buck—”

“It’s a gift,” Buck says, voice warm and sure. Eddie wishes there weren’t 800 miles between them so he could hug him.

“Can I at least—”

“No.” Buck doesn’t hesitate. “You and Chris being happy and cared for is all I need.”

There’s a commotion on Buck’s end, followed by a sigh. “Cooper got out. I gotta go.”

The line goes dead.

Eddie stares at his phone.

Who the hell is Cooper?

Eddie:

Cooper? 

Maddie: 

That would be Buck’s new dog 

Buck got a dog? 

Yup. 

A couple of days ago. 

He didn’t say anything to you? 

Has he been acting odd to you? 

Odder than usual? 

Yeah. A bit 

Is he okay? 

I mean, he talks to me 

But not about how he feels

about us being in Texas. 

He’s…..

Coping? 

If that’s what you could call it 

What do you mean? 

I think I’m going to have

to send him to shoppers anonymous. 

He keeps buying Jee and the baby things. 

He’s probably maxed out all of his cards at this point. 

He just sent Chris and I a box.

There’s at least $2000 worth in here. 

***

“Buck, what am I looking at?” Bobby asks, glancing up from the counter at the firehouse.

“A gift certificate for the hardware store. Should be enough to cover your countertops, right?” Buck says casually.

Bobby squints at the envelope, suspicion creeping into his expression. “I didn’t even know the hardware store had gift certificates.”

“They do.” Buck shrugs. “I can’t use it, though.”

Bobby pushes the envelope back toward him. “Buck, I can’t accept this.”

Buck doesn’t pick it up. “It was a Christmas present from my parents, but I don’t need to make any upgrades. It’s just sitting around, and it expires soon. Please take it?”

He’s lying through his teeth.

He’d overheard Bobby and Athena talking about how expensive the countertops they really wanted were and how they might have to settle for something cheaper. Buck couldn’t let that happen. So he pulled some strings—amazing what flashing a little cash can do—and paid for the countertops outright. Then he had the store print a very real-looking gift certificate for the exact amount.

When Bobby hands it over to the cashier, it’ll be like Buck was never involved.

Bobby exhales heavily, eyeing him for a long moment before giving in. “Fine.” He picks the envelope back up. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Buck says with an easy smile. He turns away, grabbing Cooper’s leash and heading for the stairs.

He hadn’t planned on getting a dog. But when he stopped by the shelter to make a donation, he met Cooper—a three-year-old German Shepherd with big brown eyes and a quiet loyalty Buck couldn’t walk away from. Now, Cooper is in training to become a search-and-rescue dog, so he can stay at the firehouse.

Buck’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, reading an email from the hospital: Payment processed.

He settles onto a bench, making sure he’s within Hen’s line of sight. Her phone should ring any second now.

“Hello?” Hen answers, her voice distant at first. “This is she… I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

Buck scratches Cooper behind the ears, smiling to himself.

“In full?” Hen’s voice lifts in disbelief. “Like—the whole bill? Do you know who—? I’d love to send them a thank-you or something… Of course a thank-you is necessary.”

Buck keeps his gaze elsewhere as Hen turns, scanning the firehouse as if the answer might be written in the air.

She listens for a few more seconds, then hangs up. Slowly, she lowers herself onto the back of the ambulance, staring at her phone as if it’s suddenly foreign.

Buck waits a beat before asking, “Everything okay?”

Hen exhales, still stunned. “Yeah. That was the hospital. Apparently… someone paid off all of Denny’s bills from when he was in the hospital.”

Buck widens his eyes in mock surprise. “No way. All of them?”

“Every last cent. They’re even issuing us a refund for what we’d already paid.”

“Wow.”

Hen nods, flipping her phone over in her hands. Then she stands abruptly. “I’ve gotta call Karen. Let Cap know if he asks?”

“Yeah, of course. Go tell Karen the good news.” Buck grins as she hurries off.

He leans back on the bench, Cooper resting at his feet, and exhales.

They don’t need to know it was him.

That’s not the point.

Just when Buck thinks he's run out of ideas of sneaky ways to provide for his friends and family, his phone rings at 2am. 

“Christopher?” He asks, still half asleep. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” 

There’s heavy breathing on the other end of the line. “Chris?” 

“It was the tsunami,” And suddenly Chris sounds like that 8 year old boy again, the one Buck spent hours searching through debris for. “I’m sorry- I just need to hear your voice.” 

“Hey, no, Chris. Don’t apologize,” Buck is wide awake now and already typing away on his brand new MacBook, because why not have all the things you’ve always wanted but could never afford when you have so much disposable income?

“I thought I was over this.” 

“Chris, it was a major trauma. Sure we can heal from it, but we don’t really ever forget something like that.” 

“I never wanted to do pool club,” Chris admits after a few minutes of silence. “I knew something like this would happen eventually.” 

“Chris,” Buck sighs and shuts his laptop, hopping up and grabbing a duffle bag to shove clothes into. Anything he leaves behind, he’ll just buy another one for. “Have you told your dad you don’t want to do pool club anymore” 

“I can’t-“ Chris's voice cracks. “If I tell him, he’ll tell Grandma and then they’ll fight again.” 

“Okay,” Buck takes a deep breath and looks around the house to make sure he didn’t forget anything. “Take a few deep breaths for me kiddo.” 

Buck quickly gets Cooper out of his dog bed and puts his leash on, hurrying out the door to his truck. 

“Okay,” Chris sounds better already, less panicked. “Okay kid, try to get some sleep okay? We can talk to your dad together in the morning, okay?” 

“Wait-“ Chris interrupts. “Are you coming to Texas?” 

“Yeah kid, I’ll be there before you wake up.” 

“Okay,” Chris says softly. “Thank you, Buck.” 

“Anytime.” 

(Maddie, Bobby, Buck) 

Buck: 

Hey, don’t freak out. 

Bobby, I’ve put in for a leave of absence. 

Not sure when I’ll be back.

A few days, a week, maybe more. 

I’m in Texas if you need me.

***

Eddie groans, rolling over in bed. He doesn’t have work today, so why is he awake?

Then he hears it.

A soft knock, knock, knock at the front door.

With a sigh, he throws off the blanket, slides on his house shoes, and tugs on a hoodie before trudging out of his bedroom.

“It’s too early for this—” Eddie grumbles, but the words die in his throat.

He was expecting his mom, standing on the doorstep, ready to lecture him about something he did wrong with Christopher.

Instead, a rumpled-looking Buck stands there, a duffle bag in one hand and a dog leash in the other.

“Buck?”

“Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie rubs his eyes and blinks, just to make sure he’s not imagining things.

“What are you doing here?”

“Chris called me.” Buck steps inside without waiting for an invitation, dropping his bag by the door. “Is he still asleep?”

“Uh, yeah—” Eddie glances at his watch. “It’s barely six a.m. on a Saturday.”

Buck pauses as if only now realizing the time. Then he nods, heading toward the living room with the very large dog trotting behind him.

“Is he okay?” Buck asks.

“As far as I know.” Eddie scrubs a hand over his face. He needs coffee. He needs answers. He needs to know why there’s a giant dog in his living room. “Why?”

“He called me last night,” Buck says, unclipping the leash and setting it aside. “Said he had a nightmare about the tsunami.”

Eddie stills.

“He had a nightmare,” he says carefully, “and you decided to fly down here?”

“Yeah.” Buck nods, and that’s when Eddie really sees him—exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin.

“Chris won’t be up for a few more hours,” Eddie says, glancing at Cooper—the dog Maddie had mentioned—who’s now sniffing around. “Why don’t you get some sleep? You look dead on your feet.”

“I’m fine.” Buck waves him off. “Not the first time I’ve crashed on your couch.”

“Buck, you took a flight in the middle of the night because my kid called you. Go sleep in my bed.”

Buck lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No need to yell.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns toward the hallway. Buck follows.

When they reach the bedroom, Eddie digs into a drawer and tosses Buck a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, even though he’s already wearing something similar.

“No outside clothes in my bed,” Eddie mutters, climbing in and yanking the blanket over his head.

A beat of silence. Then—

“Oh, uh…” Buck hesitates. Eddie can practically hear him thinking. “I can really just take the couch. It’s no big deal.”

“I don’t bite, Buckley. Change your clothes and lay down.”

Eddie is asleep again before Buck has a chance to protest.

When Eddie wakes up again, it’s to a noise coming from his kitchen a few hours later. He’s confused for a minute, knowing Chris would never get up and cooking his own breakfast, until he hears a bark and realizes that Buck showing up hadn’t been a dream. 

Eddie slides on his house shoes and walks out into the kitchen to see Chris sitting at the table and Buck at the stove. 

“Morning princess,” Buck says, turning around with a smile that makes Eddie’s stomach flutter. “Chris challenged me to make biscuits and gravy, I don’t think I’m doing half bad.” 

Buck steps away from the stove and over to the coffee pot, grabbing a mug and pouring some in before handing it to Eddie. “Here. Sit.” 

“So, uh, how long are you staying?” Eddie asks, taking a sip of his coffee. “Weren’t you supposed to have a shift today?” 

Buck just shrugs and turns around to the stove, not answering either question. 

The oven beeps and Buck opens it, pulling out a tray of biscuits, laying it on the stove. 

“Did you go to the grocery store?” 

“Uh kinda,” Buck says, putting the biscuits on a plate. “I had them delivered.” 

Eddie nods again and watches as Buck moves food from the counter and to the table. “If the gravy isn’t good, I also made breakfast tacos.” 

“No, this all looks amazing,” Eddie says in awe. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, thank you Buck.” Chris says, still looking half asleep. “I didn’t actually think you were going to come.” 

Buck furrows his eyebrows and picks up the plate in front of Chris, “you called me. Of course I came.” 

Buck adds food to Chris’s plate and sets it in front of him before grabbing Eddie’s plate and doing the same thing. 

Eddie just sits and watches him, not knowing what to say. 

Buck finally makes his own plate and sits down. “So, do you have to work today?” 

“No,” Eddie says, grabbing his fork and cutting into his food. “Not until Monday.” 

“Chris? What are you up to today?” 

Chris is quiet, avoiding eye contact. 

“Chris?” Eddie asks, concerned. 

“I have a swim meet today,” he looks up at Buck, who is already looking back at him with a haunted look. 

It’s only then that Eddie starts to piece everything together. Christopher’s nightmare, Buck dropping everything to fly out. Their shared look of pain. 

Christopher is having nightmares about the tsunami again. 

Buck nods his head in Eddie's direction and Chris shakes his head. 

“Chris,” Buck says firmly. “You need to tell him.” 

“Tell me what,” Eddie asks after swallowing a bite. The gravy is equally as good as the breakfast taco. 

“Can you tell him?” 

“Christopher,” Eddie sighs. “Whatever it is you need to tell me, I’m sure it’s going to be okay.” 

Chris takes a deep breath and looks between Buck and Eddie before nodding.

“I don’t want to do pool club anymore.”

Eddie takes a sip of coffee and let's Chris continue to explain it. 

“I’ve never really liked it, I just did it to make Grandma happy. But now, I- I don’t want to do it anymore.” 

“Okay, well, if you don’t want to do pool club anymore, you don’t have to.” Eddie says. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Christopher looks over to Buck again who nods in encouragement.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you and grandma to argue again.” Chris says quietly. “Not because of me.”

Eddie’s chest tightens at that, a pang of guilt settling deep in his stomach. He and his mother had butted heads more than once over what was best for Christopher, but he hated the thought of his son feeling caught in the middle.

“Chris,” Eddie says gently, setting his fork down. “I don’t want you worrying about that. Your happiness matters more than keeping the peace.”

Chris shrugs, poking at his food. “It just seemed easier.”

Buck, who’s been quietly watching, speaks up. “Easier for who, buddy?”

Chris sighs. “Everyone, I guess.”

Eddie runs a hand through his hair, exhaling. “I’m sorry, mijo. That’s not fair to you. You should’ve told me sooner.”

Buck reaches over and squeezes Chris’s shoulder. “And you know what? I think you’re really brave for saying it now.”

Chris looks up at Buck and then over at Eddie. “So you’re not mad?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Of course not. If you don’t want to do pool club anymore, that’s it. We’ll figure something else out.”

Chris finally gives a small smile, relief washing over his face. “Okay.”

Buck grins. “Good. And hey, that just means more time for us to find something you actually enjoy doing.”

Chris nods, taking a bite of his breakfast, seemingly lighter now that the weight of the conversation has lifted.

Eddie catches Buck’s eye across the table, gratitude and something deeper passing between them. Buck had dropped everything to be here, to help Christopher through something Eddie hadn’t even realized was happening.

And Eddie knows, without question, that Buck always will.

Maddie: 

Is my brother there? 

Eddie: 

Yeah. Did he not tell you? 

He did.

Will you make him 

answer the phone? 

He keeps sending me to

 voicemail. 

This is weird right?

Him just taking off work and 

flying down here like it’s nothing? 

It’s not totally weird 

I mean, you and Chris 

are his family.

Honestly I’m surprised this 

didn’t happen earlier.

I’m worried about him. 

He keeps making a lot of 

concerning choices. 

Like what?

I know how much money 

he makes Maddie. 

He shouldn’t be 

able to afford half of the 

things he’s bought recently. 

And now he’s taking who 

knows how long off work? 

Yeah that is odd. 

He dropped by with a bunch 

of stuff for the baby. 

Like brand new tech gadgets. 

I’m just worried that there’s

something going on that has

him making hasty decisions. 

Maybe try talking to him? 

Right. 

And tell him to call me! 

***

It’s been four days and Buck is still in Texas. Honestly, he hasn’t felt any need to rush back to LA. It’s not like he needs to work. 

He does feel a little antsy though, when Chris is at school and Eddie is at work, so he starts doing things around the house. 

The fence in the backyard was falling apart, so yesterday Buck had the supplies delivered to fix it and he and a guy he paid to help got it done in three hours. 

Eddie didn’t say anything about it other than thank you, but Buck could tell he wanted to. 

This morning, Buck woke up tangled with Eddie in the bed, which in itself was not the problem. In fact, it was the exact opposite of a problem, but Buck had to stamp down his feelings about that quickly. 

No, the real issue was how unbearably hot it was. He felt like he had to peel his skin away from Eddie’s 

“Why is it so hot?” He grumbles, rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed. 

“The air conditioner only works when it wants to,” Eddie mumbles, sitting up and throwing the blanket to the far end of the bed. 

“Has someone come out to look at it?” Buck takes his sweat stained shirt off and throws it in Eddie’s laundry basket, opting to not put another one on. 

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, following suit and taking his shirt off as well. “Yeah, and they were going to charge me an arm and a leg, so I told them to leave and turned all the ceiling fans on in the house.” 

And suddenly, Buck knows what he’s going to do today. 

Eight hours later, Eddie walks through the front door and Buck steps out of the kitchen to greet him.

“It’s freezing in here,” Eddie says, hugging his arms tight while kicking off his shoes. 

“Oh yeah, I looked up on YouTube how to fix the air. It wasn’t that hard actually.” Buck says before stepping back into the kitchen. 

What he actually did was call the HVAC company and had them come out and replace everything that was old and rusted, but Eddie doesn’t need to know all that. 

“Buck,” Eddie says, stepping into the kitchen. “Not that I don’t appreciate you being here, because I do, but don’t you need to get back to LA?” 

Buck falters for a second, before fixing his face and turning to face Eddie. “No. I mean, I will need to eventually, but-“ 

“But?” 

“I’m right where I need to be for the time being.” Buck says firmly. 

“What about your job? How are you supposed to pay your bills?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Buck shrugs, stirring the pasta sauce so that it doesn't stick to the pan. 

“I’m worried about you Buck,” Eddie says softly, walking over and leaning against the counter beside him. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” Buck turns and smiles at Eddie. “I promise. I’m the happiest I’ve been in a while.” 

Eddie doesn’t look convinced. 

“Buck-“ Eddie looks up at him and for a moment, Buck forgets how to breathe . 

“I promise, if there was something for you to be worried about, I would tell you. I’m good, really. And my bills are taken care of.” Buck smiles and forces himself to pull away from Eddie’s gaze before he does something stupid, like kiss him. 

“Okay,” Eddie taps Buck’s hip twice before pushing away from the counter. “I’m going to go take a shower.” 

Buck nods. “Food should be ready when you’re done.” 

It was just the two of them because Chris stays at his grandparents during the week so he can catch the bus to school. Eddie house may only be ten minutes away, but it’s in a different school district. 

His phone buzzes on the counter, probably Maddie again. He sighs and finally answers it. 

“Hello?” 

“What the hell Evan!” He pulls the phone away from his ear while she yells. “You take off to Texas and then start ignoring me?” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sits down at the table after taking the sauce off the burner. 

“You’re sorry? That’s all I get?” 

“Mad-“ 

“I’m worried about you Evan, we all are!” 

Buck sighs. Maddie is pregnant and she’s been through enough this year, she doesn’t need to worry about Buck too. 

“If I tell you what’s going on, you can’t tell a single soul.” Buck says, getting up from the table and walking out of the kitchen. Eddie is still in the shower, but Buck doesn’t want to take any chances. 

“Okay, yeah, I promise. Just tell me, I need to know that you’re alright.” 

“I’m fine,” Buck chuckles. “Like super fine, really.” 

“O-Kay…”Maddie trails off before she gasps. “Oh my god! Did you tell him? Are you finally ready to admit to yourself that you’re in love with Eddie?” 

“What, uh, no. I didn’t tell him. He’s straight.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Buck rolls his eyes.”You didn’t deny the other part this time.” 

Buck sighs. “Of course I love him, Maddie. But that’s not the point.” 

“Okay okay, get on with it. What has you ‘super fine?’” 

Buck takes a deep breath and shakes his hand to get rid of the nerves. “I won the lottery.” 

The line is silent for a second before Maddie busts out laughing. Buck pinches his nose, knowing that this is the response that he was going to get. 

“Look up the last winning numbers.” Buck groans.

He can hear Maddie typing on the other end. “Okay I found them.”

“9 13 is Chris’s birthday, 11 30 is Eddie’s birthday, and 7 23 was the day of the tsunami.” 

Silence. 

“Holy shit.” 

“Yeah, that was my first reaction.” 

“Evan!” 

“I know!” 

“You’re a billionaire.” 

“Not anymore.” 

“There’s no way you’ve spent a billion dollars already.” 

“I donated it.” 

“Evan!” 

“Stop yelling at me, it was too much responsibility.”

“How much did you donate?” 

“500 million at first but then it was still too much money, so I did another 500 million.” 

“Oh my god! You were the one who paid of my hospital bill!” 

“Yep.” 

“And Denny’s I’m assuming?” 

“Bingo!” 

“What else have you done?” 

Buck makes himself comfortable on the step and tells Maddie everything he’s done with the money he’s won. 

“So please, if anyone asks you, I’m 100% okay. Because I am.” 

“Okay, I will.” 

“Thank you Mads.” 

“I love you, don’t ignore my calls next time.” 

“Promise. I gotta go before the food burns.” 

“Okay, goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

Buck hangs up the phone and walks back in the house. 

Eddie is just stepping out of the hallway, fresh from his shower, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. He’s wearing a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt, and Buck has to force himself to look away before he gets caught staring.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks, toweling off his hair as he steps into the kitchen.

“Yeah, just Maddie being Maddie.” Buck waves a hand dismissively and moves back to the stove, stirring the sauce one last time. “She was just worried about me.”

Eddie leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching Buck carefully. “And should she be?”

Buck huffs a laugh. “No, I’m good, I swear.”

Eddie doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he pushes off the counter and grabs a couple of plates from the cabinet. “Alright, Chef Buckley, let’s eat.”

They settle at the table, the only sounds for a while being the clinking of silverware against their plates. It’s comfortable, easy, but Buck can tell Eddie’s still thinking—still turning something over in his mind.

“So,” Eddie finally says, breaking the silence, “you just know how to fix air conditioners now?”

Buck smirks. “YouTube is a beautiful thing.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, clearly not buying it, but lets it go. “Well, however you did it, I appreciate it. Chris is going to be thrilled when he gets home this weekend.”

Buck nods, focusing on his plate. He can feel Eddie’s gaze on him, warm and steady, like he’s trying to figure him out.

“You’re staying, then?” Eddie asks, voice careful.

Buck looks up and meets Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah. If that’s okay.”

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Something settles in Buck’s chest at that, something solid and sure. He doesn’t know how long he’ll stay in Texas—he doesn’t know what this is yet, this thing between him and Eddie that feels like gravity pulling him in—but he knows he’s right where he wants to be.

For now, that’s enough.

***

Someone needs to give Eddie a medal for having the patience of a saint.

For the past six days, he’s woken up half-hard with Buck’s limbs tangled with his. Which has only reinforced what Eddie has always known deep down—he’s gay.

More importantly than that, he’s in love with Buck.

Buck, who helped him find Carla.

Buck, who built a skateboard for Christopher.

Buck, who saved his kid from a tsunami and spent

the entire day searching for him, refusing to rest until he knew Christopher was safe.

Buck, who crawled under a fire truck—while being actively shot at—to save Eddie’s life.

Buck, who stepped in for Christopher while Eddie was recovering.

Buck, who saw Eddie at his lowest and never left.

Buck, who sublet his house so Eddie wouldn’t have to worry about it.

Buck, who dropped everything and flew to Texas because Chris had a nightmare.

And all the moments in between.

There’s no way around it. Eddie is in love with Buck. And he thinks—hopes—that Buck loves him too.

Now, Eddie’s come home early from work because a breaker blew at the shop, cutting the power, only to find Buck in the middle of his living room doing yoga.

Cooper barks from his dog bed in the corner. Eddie isn’t sure if Buck brought it with him or bought it after he got here, but it fits with the rest of the room.

“Hey,” Buck says, looking between his legs while holding a downward dog position. “You’re home early.”

Eddie has to pinch his thigh to stop himself from staring at Buck’s ass.

“Yeah, power went out at work.” Eddie kicks off his boots and hangs his keys on the wall. “Since when do you do yoga?”

“I used to do it a lot. Dated a couple of instructors.” Buck stands up, takes a sip of water, then lowers himself onto the floor again. “Haven’t done it since the truck bombing, but I didn’t have anything else to do today, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

Buck moves into a side plank, and Eddie really has to focus on not looking at Buck’s very tight shorts.

“Have you decided when you’re going back to L.A.?”

“You kicking me out, Diaz?” Buck smirks, exhaling steadily through his nose.

“No, never.” Eddie sighs. “I just... I feel bad that you’re here alone all day while I’m at work.”

“It hasn’t been too bad. I’ve actually fixed a couple of things around here. Just couldn’t find anything else to fix today.”

Buck rotates, shifting his weight to the other side.

“Well, you can stay as long as you want, truly. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

Buck looks like he wants to say something but stops himself.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, changing the subject. “My parents want to have dinner when they drop Chris off tonight.”

Buck comes out of his plank and sits back on his elbows, looking up at Eddie like he—

Eddie pinches his thigh harder this time.

“They say why?” Buck asks.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, but knowing them, it’s nothing good.”

“Well,” Buck grins, stretching his arms above his head, “I’ll just have to make the best meal ever, then, huh?”

***

It all comes to a head during dinner.

Helena, Ramon, and Christopher arrive at exactly 5 p.m., right on schedule. Chris barely mumbles a greeting before storming off to his room, his bad mood rolling through the house like a thundercloud.

Eddie barely has time to register it before Ramon’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“Edmundo, why do you have a dog?”

From the kitchen, Buck hears the tone before the words. He peeks his head out, knife still in hand, just in time to see Eddie tense.

“That’s Buck’s dog,” Eddie says, his voice clipped. “He’s harmless.”

A beat of silence. Then, just loud enough for Buck to hear—because of course she wants to be heard—Helena mutters, “Why is that man still here? Doesn’t he have a job?”

Buck’s fingers tighten around the knife handle, but he doesn’t turn. Just focuses on the vegetables he’s been meticulously chopping, trying to breathe through the weight pressing against his ribs.

“Yes, he has a job,” Eddie huffs, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “He’s my best friend, and he can stay here as long as he wants.”

The way Eddie says it—sharp, unyielding—tells Buck this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. Maybe not even the first time this week.

“Are you sure he’s not just taking advantage of you?” Ramon presses. “He’s living in your house, eating your food, and what is he doing in return?”

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “Actually, Buck bought all the groceries. And he’s been crossing things off my to-do list faster than I can come up with them. He’s not taking advantage of me—if anything, I’m the one taking advantage of him.”

Which isn’t, and could never be, true.

Eddie could ask for the moon, and Buck would tear the sky apart trying to bring it to him.

“Eddie, we just—”

Buck sees where this is going and decides he’s had enough.

“Ramon. Helena.” His voice is smooth, his smile sharper than the blade in his hand. “Good to see you.”

Helena’s gaze flicks to him, eyes scanning like she’s searching for something to confirm whatever judgment she’s already made.

“Evan, is it?”

“Buck, actually.” He leans against the doorframe, arms crossing loosely over his chest. “Dinner’ll be ready in about thirty minutes.”

Then, before they can steer the conversation back to Eddie, Buck lays it on thick. Too thick.

“I have a lovely Merlot decanting. Helena, would you like a glass?”

The shift is immediate. Helena and Ramon exchange a look—silent, calculating. It lasts less than a second before Helena’s lips curve into a tight, practiced smile that mirrors his own.

“Sure,” she says, tone syrupy sweet. “I’d love a glass.”

Buck holds her gaze for a moment longer, then turns back into the kitchen. He doesn’t let out the breath he’s been holding.

Not yet.

The air in the house is thick, buzzing with unspoken words as Buck pours Helena’s wine with an ease he doesn’t feel. His hands are steady, his smile unwavering, but he can feel the weight of Eddie’s parents watching him.

Helena takes the glass delicately, as if she’s debating whether to accept something from him at all. She sips, then hums in approval. “Decent.”

Buck bites back a smirk. Of course, it is.

Eddie stands rigid near the counter, his jaw locked so tight Buck swears he can hear his teeth grinding.

“So, where exactly are you working these days, Buck?” Ramon asks, swirling the whiskey he’s somehow procured from thin air.

Buck levels him with a look, then leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “Same job I’ve always had. Still an LAFD firefighter.”

“Ah.” Ramon nods slowly, thoughtfully. “So, you do have a home to return to.”

Eddie makes a sound that’s halfway between a scoff and a growl. Buck doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t let himself react.

“Yeah,” Buck says evenly. “I do.”

Silence. A long, uncomfortable stretch of it.

Helena sets her glass down, the soft clink unnaturally loud in the tension-filled room. “Then what exactly are you doing here?”

It’s not even subtle.

This time, Eddie moves before Buck can open his mouth.

“He’s here because Chris asked him to be,” Eddie snaps, his voice like a whip.

Chris’ bedroom door creaks open in the hallway, the noise drawing all of their attention for a split second. Just long enough for Buck to take control of himself again.

Helena exhales, slow and measured, like she’s preparing for another battle. “Eddie, we’re just saying—”

“You’re not just saying anything,” Eddie interrupts, stepping closer to Buck as if physically positioning himself in his corner. “You came in here already set on making Buck feel unwelcome, like you always do with anyone you don’t approve of.”

Helena flinches at that, but it doesn’t stop Eddie.

“You don’t get to dictate who I let into my home. Who I trust with my son. Who I—” He stops, breath hitching, but the words are already there, hovering.

Who I love.

The words go unspoken, but Buck swears they echo through the room anyway. Buck looks briefly at Eddie, hopeful that maybe he was about to say love. 

Ramon clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “We just think it’s time you started making better choices, son.”

Eddie’s laugh is hollow. “Better choices? Like what? Moving back to Texas to be under your thumb? Finding a ‘nice girl’ to settle down with so you can pretend to be proud of me?”

Helena’s expression tightens. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair,” Eddie counters, voice shaking, “is the fact that every time you’re around, you make it your mission to tear apart the things that make me happy.”

Silence. The kind that feels suffocating.

Chris steps into the room then, his presence like a crack of thunder. “Are you guys done?” His voice is sharp, but his face is unreadable.

Helena softens immediately. “Chris—”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Grandma.” Chris folds his arms, eyes flicking to his dad, then to Buck. “Can we just eat?”

Eddie exhales. Buck doesn’t realize he’s been holding his own breath until his chest aches from the strain.

Buck meets Chris’ gaze for the briefest of moments, something passing between them—understanding, gratitude, something that makes Buck’s throat feel tight.

“Yeah,” Buck says, pushing off the counter and moving toward the stove. “Let’s eat.”

And just like that, the conversation is over.

For now.

The tension lingers in the air long after they sit down to eat. The clinking of silverware against plates is the only sound filling the room, thick with the weight of unspoken words.

Chris pushes his food around with his fork, brows furrowed, lips pressed into a firm line. Eddie glances at him every so often, concern etched into every sharp edge of his expression.

Helena and Ramon exchange a look before Helena clears her throat, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Christopher, you’ve been quiet.”

Chris doesn’t look up. “Not much to say.”

Eddie’s grip tightens around his fork. Buck watches his knuckles go white.

“We know change is difficult,” Ramon says, voice carefully measured. “But you’ll adjust. Moving back home—”

“LA is home,” Chris snaps, finally looking up, frustration burning in his eyes. “I told you—I want to stay with Dad for the rest of the school year and then go back.”

Silence drops over the room, heavy and suffocating.

Helena’s lips thin. “Christopher, we only want what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me is being with my dad,” Chris shoots back, pushing his plate away. “Why can’t you just accept that?”

Eddie takes a steadying breath, reaching over to squeeze Chris’ shoulder.

“We talked about this, remember?” Helena says, setting her silverware down with a deliberate clink. “You’re staying with us. That’s not up for debate.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. “That wasn’t the deal. The deal was that when Chris wants to come home, he comes home. No pushback.”

Ramon exhales sharply, setting his fork down with a little too much force. “And what happens when the money runs out, Edmundo?”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. “What?”

“You’re fixing cars for a living,” Ramon says, disapproval laced into every word. “How are you going to support Christopher long-term? What’s your plan?”

Buck feels anger creep up his spine, slow and hot. He can see it in the way Eddie’s shoulders tighten, the way his eyes darken—he’s tired of defending himself.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Buck cuts in, voice sharp. “Eddie and Chris will always be taken care of.”

Ramon scoffs. “And what? You’re going to bankroll them forever?”

“Yes.” The answer is immediate, unyielding, absolute.

Everyone stops. Even Chris.

“And what?” Ramon sneers. “Have my grandson think it’s okay to mooch off someone instead of working for his goals?”

“I didn’t say that,” Buck says evenly, holding Ramon’s gaze. “But you’re worried about Christopher, right? His school, his medical needs, his future? It’s all covered.”

He avoids looking at Eddie.

“And Eddie, you’re just okay with this?” Ramon presses. “Sitting at home like some housewife instead of being the man of the house?”

“If Eddie wanted to retire tomorrow and never work another day in his life, that would be his choice—and he’d still be taken care of. But as far as I know, Eddie plans on keeping his job.”

“And if something happens to you on the job?”

Buck doesn’t even blink. “If something happens to me, Eddie is the beneficiary of my life insurance. All of my property, my assets—they go to him and Chris. There’s money set aside for Chris, for my sister, for any kids she may have. Eddie and Chris are set no matter what.”

He leans forward slightly. “So why don’t we call a spade a spade, Ramon? You don’t want them going back to LA because you can’t control them there.”

Eddie turns to Buck, brows furrowed. “Buck—”

“Eddie, are you going to sit there and let this man talk to your father like this?” Helena gasps.

“Christopher,” Buck says, glancing at the brooding teen. “Take your plate and eat in your room.”

“Eddie, you’re going to let him tell Christopher what to do?” Ramon demands.

Chris looks between his grandparent and Buck before grabbing his plate. “Cooper, come on.”

The dog, who has been sitting in the doorway like he’s standing guard, follows Christopher out.

“You can’t possibly give Eddie and Chris everything they need,” Helena says, gulping her wine.

“I can,” Buck says simply. “And I will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ramon challenges. “Money is never a guarantee, especially in this economy.”

Buck exhales, already exhausted. “Considering my bank account has more money in it than you’ve made in your entire life, I think we’re good.”

Eddie spits his wine all over the table. “What?”

“Eddie, what is he talking about?” Helena demands, suddenly far more interested in the conversation.

“I have no idea,” Eddie admits, looking at Buck with those wide, pleading eyes that always make Buck’s stomach flutter.

“I might have accidentally won the lottery,” Buck mutters, mostly to Eddie.

“The lottery?” Ramon scoffs. “Oh, please. He’s just as delusional as you, Edmundo.”

Buck sighs, pulls out his phone, and slides it across the table. Ramon glances down—and his eyes go wide.

Buck almost wishes he could take a picture of it.

Ramon hands the phone back like it burns. Buck passes it to Eddie, whose face drains of color the second he sees the number.

“I already paid off this house,” Buck says. “Cleared Chris’ medical debt. Bought and paid in full for the house in LA. Both trucks are paid off. And when it’s time for Chris to drive, I’ll buy him a car with whatever accommodations he needs.”

Eddie blinks rapidly. “Buck—the house… that was you?” His voice is thick, his eyes glassy. “I—”

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Buck admits. “But these two seem to think Chris won’t be taken care of in LA, which is far from the truth.”

“And what does Eddie have to do in return?” Helena asks, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing,” Buck says, his voice cold. “And quite frankly, what you’re insinuating is disgusting.”

“Oh, I just think it’s suspicious that you provide for him, and now he thinks he has to be—”

“Enough!”

Eddie’s voice cuts through the room like a whip. Buck turns to him, stunned.

“I didn’t even know Buck had money until five minutes ago,” Eddie snaps. “I just thought he was racking up his credit card taking care of things. So my being gay and in love with him? That has nothing to do with money and everything to do with the fact that I’ve been gay my entire life.”

Buck’s breath catches.

“Eddie—” he says softly.

Eddie, who had stood at some point, turns to his parents, jaw tight. “Get out.”

“Edmundo,” Helena starts, voice suddenly pleading. “Chris needs—”

“Chris doesn’t need anything from you,” Eddie says, firm and final. “And if you can’t respect our boundaries, I have no issue taking you to court. So if you ever want a chance at seeing him again, I suggest you leave and, for once, listen.”

God, Eddie is so hot when he takes charge like that.

“Understood,” Ramon mutters, pushing his chair back. “Come on, Helena.”

“Can we at least say goodbye to Christopher?”

“No.”

Eddie walks them out, Buck right behind him.

The second the door shuts and locks, Buck grabs Eddie and shoves him against it, kissing him hard.

It’s messy, all teeth and heat, but Buck doesn’t care. Because Eddie just told his parents he was in love with him and then kicked them out on their asses.

“I love you too,” Buck breathes. “So fucking much.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie smirks. “Couldn’t tell from the way you attacked me.”

“Shut up, Diaz.”

“Make me, Buckley.”

They would—if not for the sound of paws skittering across the floor.

“Gross.” Chris deadpans. “Get a room.”

***

Three months later

Buck is back in Texas for, hopefully, the last time. He flew down here to help Eddie and Chris finish packing and then to drive back to LA with them. 

“Okay,” Eddie says with his hand on his hips, looking at the U-Haul attachment. “I think that’s all of it!” 

Buck claps his hands together, surveying the U-Haul with a satisfied nod. “Not bad. I think we set a personal record for fastest packing job.”

Chris snorts from where he’s perched on the tailgate of Eddie’s truck, Cooper sitting loyally beside him. “Yeah, because Dad was a total drill sergeant about it.”

Eddie glares half-heartedly. “Excuse me for wanting to be efficient, Christopher.”

Buck smirks, nudging Eddie with his elbow. “Admit it—you were just eager to get the hell out of here.”

Eddie sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You have no idea.”

He glances back at the now-empty house, the place that had once been a refuge but had quickly turned into a cage. The weight of his parents’ disapproval, the endless tension—it was exhausting. And now, finally, it was behind them.

“Well,” Buck says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “Then what are we waiting for? Time to hit the road.”

Chris cheers, hopping down from the truck. “Shotgun!”

Eddie arches a brow. “Nice try, kid. You’re riding with Cooper in the back.”

Chris groans dramatically but doesn’t argue.

As they load into the truck, Buck lingers for a moment, watching Eddie. He looks lighter, freer, like he can finally breathe.

“Ready?” Buck asks.

Eddie exhales, then turns to him with a soft, knowing smile.

“More than ever.”

With that, they pull out of the driveway, leaving Texas—and all of its baggage—behind them.

They’re about six hours into the drive when Eddie finally asks.

“So… how does it feel to be obscenely rich?”

Buck chokes on his Gatorade. “Jesus, Eddie, what?”

Chris perks up from the backseat. “Oh yeah! We never did talk about that, huh?”

Buck groans, rubbing his temples. “Look, it’s really not that big of a deal—”

“Not a big deal?” Eddie repeats incredulously. “Buck, you won a billion dollars and didn’t tell anyone?”

“To be fair,” Buck mutters, “I tried to forget about it. And I told Maddie so she wouldn’t worry about me when I was first down in Texas.” 

Eddie scoffs. “Must be so hard, being secretly loaded.”

Buck sighs. “I didn’t want it to change things, okay? And besides, it’s not like I’m out here buying yachts and sports cars.”

Chris leans forward. “Wait—you could, though?”

“No,” Eddie says quickly. “We are not encouraging this.”

Chris huffs. “You guys are so boring.”

Buck chuckles, shaking his head. “Hey, just be glad I used some of it to get us back home.”

Eddie’s expression softens, and he reaches across the console, squeezing Buck’s hand. “I am.”

Buck squeezes back, warmth blooming in his chest.

Home.

Yeah.

That sounded just about perfect.

“Evan Buckley.” Hen crushes Buck in her arms. “I love you. I don’t- I can’t…” 

“It’s okay Hen, really.” Buck says, pulling away from the hug and handing her an envelope. “This should cover the fees for the adoption lawyer.” 

“Buck, I can’t accept this.” Hen tries to push the envelope back into his hands. "You already paid our debt."

“You can, and you will.” Buck says, shoving the envelope back. “I’m not taking no for an answer. If you try, I’ll just go behind your back and pay for it anyway.” 

Hen hugs him again, a little tighter and a little longer this time. 

“Gift certificate?” Bobby asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Smart.” 

“I tried to pay for the whole job, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it without you knowing.” Buck says, stirring the pot of chili he’s been making for the last hour. 

“Thank you,” Bobby says, pulling Buck into a side hug. “But please, don’t feel obligated to pay for our house Buck.” 

Buck looks up at Bobby innocently, before turning back to the pot. 

“You already did it?” 

“Athena went with me yesterday to sign everything.” 

“Buck-“ 

Buck interrupts his protest by shoving a spoon of Chilli in hi mouth. 

“Hey Ravi,” Buck says, running after the younger man. “Hold on a second.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Here,” Buck says, handing him an envelope. 

“Buck, I don’t want any of your money.” Exactly what Buck thought he would say. 

“Just open it.” 

Ravi sighs and opens the envelope, unfolding the paper inside. 

“The Buckley-Panikkar foundation?” Ravi looks up at him. “What is this?” 

“A non-profit organization that works with families affected by childhood cancer. There’s already a really good team of oncologists that are on the board, there’s a research budget, the whole nine yards."

“Buck-“ Ravi wiped a tear from his eyes. “You started a foundation for me?” 

“And for my brother, hence the ‘Buckley.’” Buck shrugs. “But yeah.” 

Ravi, despite his reservations, pulls Buck into a tight hug.