Archive of Our Own ^beta

The flickering neon lights of the city danced in the twilight, casting a kaleidoscope of colours across the bustling streets below. Amid the chaos, a lone figure stood beneath a towering billboard, his reflection mirrored in the glass storefronts. He was impossibly handsome, with chiselled features and a jawline that seemed sculpted from marble, but the uncertainty in his eyes betrayed the facade of confidence.

Eddie Diaz had spent years honing his craft, perfecting the art of posing, of becoming a living canvas for the whims of fashion. He had walked runways from Milan to New York, but despite his striking looks and undeniable talent, the big break still eluded him—a coveted contract with a major brand, a campaign that would catapult him from the shadows into the dazzling spotlight his father craved.

He shifted his weight, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, feeling the cool metal of his phone against his palm. He glanced at the screen, half-expecting to see an email from his agent, but all that greeted him was the dim glow of his calendar, a reminder of another audition—a chance, however small, to change everything.

As he walked down the street, memories flooded his mind: the countless castings where he’d dazzled the panel with his presence but still walked away empty-handed; the late-night rehearsals that blurred into dawn; the faces of his fellow models, some rising stars, some long-forgotten, all chasing the same elusive dream. The city had a way of consuming ambition, of chewing up hopefuls and spitting them out if they didn’t measure up.

But Eddie refused to be another statistic. He could almost hear the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing his resolve. Tonight could be different. Tonight was the night he would pour every ounce of passion and desperation into his performance. He would seize the moment, no matter the odds stacked against him.

He arrived at the studio, a nondescript building that pulsed with energy, the air thick with anticipation and the faint scent of hairspray and cologne. Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with models, stylists, and photographers—each one a cog in the machine that spun the world of high fashion. He took a deep breath, adjusting his collar and smoothing his hair before stepping through the doorway.

“Diaz!” A familiar voice called, and he turned to see Lena, his friend and fellow model, approaching with a bright smile. Her golden hair shimmered under the fluorescent lights, and her infectious energy felt like a burst of sunshine in the frenetic atmosphere.

“Bosko!” he replied, forcing a smile despite the tight knot in his stomach.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I heard it’s a big campaign. You’ve got to bring your best.”

He nodded, but his mind raced with doubt. What if I’m not enough? What if tonight, like so many before, ended in disappointment? He couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out, that he was standing at a crossroads where one wrong step could lead him away from everything he and his son needed.

As they entered the main studio, he had to steel himself. The space was alive with creativity: photographers adjusting their lights, makeup artists fussing over models, and the rhythmic beat of music pulsing through the air. He could feel the energy swirling around him, a tangible force that both excited and terrified him.

“Just remember,” Lena said, squeezing his arm, “it’s about confidence. Own the room, and they’ll notice you. You were made for this.”

He took a deep breath, forcing the doubts aside. Own the room. The words echoed in his mind as he stepped onto the set, the cameras and lights framing him like a king surveying his kingdom. This was his moment—his chance to break through, to prove to everyone, and himself, that he was worthy of the Diaz name. Prove to his mother and father that he could provide perfectly well for his son.

As the photographer called for the first shot, he positioned himself, channelling every ounce of determination into his posture. He felt the click of the camera, the flashing lights capturing his essence, and for a brief moment, the outside world faded away.

But deep down, as he struck each pose with practiced ease, he knew the stakes were higher than ever. This was not just another audition; this was the beginning of a new chapter. With each flash, he felt the weight of his and Christopher’s future pressing against him, and he was ready to rise to the challenge.

----------

Eddie pushed open the door to his home, exhaustion washing over him like a wave. The bright lights of the photoshoot still danced in his mind, but all he could think about was getting to see his son. As he stepped inside, the delicious aroma of Tia Pepa’s signature quesadillas greeted him, wrapping around him like a welcoming hug.

“I’ve finished!” Christopher’s voice rang out from the living room, pure joy spilling from his lips. 

His heart swelled at the sound, the fatigue fading away as he followed the sound of his son’s laughter. A smile broke across his face as he moved eagerly. The sight of him – bright-eyed and grinning – was enough to light up even the most exhausting of days.

Christopher was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a colourful array of Legos. His small hands expertly manoeuvred the pieces, constructing an impressively high tower. His son’s determination was a force to be reckoned with. 

“Look what I made, Dad!” Christopher exclaimed, his voice bubbling with excitement once he spotted him. “It’s a castle! It has a moat and everything!”

Eddie knelt beside him, exuding proudness as he admired the intricate details of the build. “That’s amazing, mijo! I love it. You’re going to be the best architect one day.”

Tia Pepa emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Her warm smile and no-nonsense demeanour always felt like a comforting presence. “Eddie! There you are. I was just about to send out a search party. You look like you’ve been run over by a truck.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Long shoot. You know how it goes.”

“Long day or not, you need to eat something,” she insisted, pointing toward the kitchen. “Come on, I made your favourite.”

Eddie glanced back at Christopher, who was now trying to balance a half-constructed boat on his head, giggling at his own antics. The sight filled him with warmth and a sense of everything being right in the world. This was home – chaotic, loving, and full of life. 

“Alright, Chris. Let’s eat,” he called, lifting his son and pulling him into a tight hug. “I missed you.”

Christopher laughed and flung his arms around his dad’s neck as he carried him to the kitchen. “I missed you too, Dad.”

Tia Pepa had laid out a spread that made his mouth water: steaming rice, black beans, chicken adobo, and her famous quesadillas.

“Sit, sit. I’ll get you a plate,” she said, bustling around the kitchen with the energy of someone half her age.

“You’re the best,” he replied, grateful for her unwavering support and the care she provided for Christopher. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“Well, someone ought to be looking out for you.” As he settled at the table, she served him a generous helping, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “That model diet nonsense has you wasting away, look at you!”

He chuckled. “They do let us eat, you know.”

“Not enough.” She shook her head, pointing at him with her fork. “Those magazine people wouldn’t know a good meal if it slapped them in the face.”

With a grin, he dug into the chicken adobo and gestured towards Christopher, who was now fully engrossed in his meal, completely unfazed by their conversation. "You’re right, as always. Besides, I need the energy to keep up with this little architect.”

Pepa returned the smile. “He’s such a clever boy. You’ve raised him well, Eddito.”

You’re in over your head, Edmundo.

Christopher needs consistency. 

He should live with us permanently. 

“Thanks, Tia,” he whispered, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “I try my best.”

“Dad!” Christopher called, serious. “Can you help me with my castle after dinner? I need a drawbridge, but I don’t know how to make one.”

“Absolutely! I’m your assistant architect,” he replied, matching his tone. “What materials are we working with?”

“Lego and spaghetti!” He stated, grinning from ear to ear. “It’ll be epic!”

“Spaghetti?” Eddie burst into laughter, followed by Pepa as he brought a hand up to his son’s head and ruffled his hair. “It certainly will, mijo.”

As they ate, they chatted about the day, Pepa’s animated stories filling the room with laughter. She had a knack for bringing levity to any situation, and her presence was a balm for his weary soul in the rough transition to LA. 

“Did you get any good pictures today?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, still a bit distracted. He didn’t want to dwell too much on the pressures of modelling, especially not in front of Christopher. “The photographer was really impressed.”

“Good! You’re going to be famous, I can feel it,” she encouraged, her voice beaming with pride.

You have to earn your place, his father’s voice echoed.

“Yeah, Dad!” Christopher shouted, grinning at him. “You’re going to be on the cover of magazines! Like the ones we see at the store!”

He couldn’t help but smile back, the light in his son’s eyes reminding him of why he worked so hard. “That’s the plan, buddy. And when I’m famous, I’ll take you to all the best places.”

“Can we go to the moon?” Christopher asked, imagination running wild. 

“Sure. We can build a rocket out of Lego and spaghetti,” he replied, laughter bubbling in his throat.

Christopher nodded as though sealing the deal and they finished off their meals. After cleaning the kitchen and thanking Tia Pepa again as she bade them goodbye, they moved back to the living room, where Christopher eagerly showed him his castle. As they worked together to add the drawbridge, he felt a sense of contentment that no photoshoot could replicate. This was where he belonged – right here with Christopher, building dreams one block at a time.

In that small house, amid the laughter and chaotic construction experiments, he felt truly at home.

----------

The park was alive with the sounds of laughter and the sweet melodies of birds chirping overhead. He leaned back against a sun-warmed bench, watching Christopher stumble across the grass, his laughter ringing like music in the air. The seven-year-old was a bundle of joy, completely absorbed in his newfound friends from school, a group of kids chasing each other in an impromptu game of tag.

“Looks like he’s having the time of his life,” Lena said, sliding onto the bench next to him. Her presence was warm and comforting, the sunlight casting a soft glow on her features. She watched Christopher with a smile that mirrored his.

“Yeah, he loves it here,” he replied, glancing sideways at her. Lena had been a constant source of support since they’d met on a shoot two years ago, sharing not just the trials and tribulations of modelling, but also the war wounds. “He makes friends so easily. I wish I had that confidence.”

“You’re doing just fine, Eddie.” She chuckled softly. “I don’t blame you for being a little jealous of his carefree spirit, though. Kids have a way of seeing the world differently.”

He nodded, his eyes drifting back to his son, who was now leading his friends in a triumphant dance of victory. “I just want him to have every opportunity, you know? I want him to feel like he belongs anywhere he goes.”

“He will,” Lena assured him. “With you as his dad, he’s already got a great foundation. You’re teaching him resilience, whether you realise it or not.”

He remained silent, and she nudged his shoulder with hers.

“You are an amazing father,” she stated with no room for argument. 

“I’m just scared I’m gonna mess it up,” he replied honestly. “My parents still keep telling me this was a mistake.”

She scoffed. “Fuck what they say. You do what’s right for you and your boy.”

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. He fished it out, glancing at the screen. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the email from his agent, the subject line making him hold his breath. Photos published.

“Lena,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think I just got some big news.”

She hummed.

He opened the email, his heart pounding as he read through the lines. “My photos…they got picked for a major magazine.”

Lena’s eyes widened, her face lighting up with genuine excitement. “Eddie! That’s incredible. I’m so proud of you!” She leaned closer, trying to see his phone. “Which one?”

“LA Living,” he replied, disbelief mixing with elation. “They’re featuring my work in the next issue! I can’t believe it.”

“See? Told you people would notice you,” she teased, her joy for him radiating like sunlight. “You’ve worked so hard for this. You deserve every bit of recognition.”

He felt a wave of relief and happiness wash over him, a warmth spreading through his chest. 

“Thanks, Lena. It means a lot to have your support.” He glanced back at Christopher, who was now climbing to the top of a slide with the help of his friends. “I just hope this leads to more opportunities.”

“It will.” She sounded confident. “You’re hot as fuck and talented, and now you have proof. This is just the beginning.”

They shared a smile, and right then, everything felt right. He basked in the joy of the moment – his son playing happily, the wind rustling through the trees, and the possibility of a bright future ahead.

“Let’s celebrate!” Lena suggested, throwing an arm over the back of the bench. “Ice cream after this?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, grinning. “Chris will love that.”

As they both turned their attention back to the playground, Eddie felt a renewed sense of purpose. He was on the cusp of something big, something that could change Christopher’s life forever. 

The ice cream shop was a riot of colour, with vibrant scoops piled high in rainbow-hued cones. The sun was high, basking everyone in the afternoon heat as he, Christopher, and Lena settled at a small table outside. The air was sweet with the scent of waffle cones and the distant sounds of laughter from other families enjoying their treats. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this light, a sense of happiness building with every lick of his chocolate fudge sundae – Christopher’s choice.

“Dad, this is the best ice cream ever!” Christopher exclaimed, his eyes wide with delight as he took a big scoop of his rainbow sherbet. The radiant colours reflected his own energy.

“It really is,” he agreed, savouring a bite of his own. “So, buddy, I’ve got some big news.”

“What?” he asked, looking at him expectantly, shoving another scoop into his mouth.

“My photos are being published in a magazine,” he announced with a small smile.

Christopher’s face lit up, his curiosity piqued. “Wait, what magazine?”

He took a bite. “LA Living.”

“That’s so cool!” he yelled. “Can we get a copy? I want to show all my friends!”

He opened his mouth to respond but Lena beat him to it.

“Of course you can get a copy!” she chimed in, her voice cheerful as she finished her own scoop of strawberry. “I’ll buy you one. It’ll be your special keepsake!”

He groaned playfully, pretending to be exasperated, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re not really going to buy him a copy, are you? What’s he going to do with it?”

“Show and tell?” she teased, laughing when Christopher bounced excitedly. 

“Great, my son is going to have a magazine collection of his dad’s face. What did I sign up for?” he sighed, although there was no malice in his tone.

Lena grinned. “Come on, it’s adorable. Plus, think of the bragging rights. Chris can tell his friends his dad is famous.”

Christopher nodded vigorously; his mouth full of ice cream. “Yeah! And I can take it to school! Everyone will be so jealous!”

“Famous?” he laughed, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Lena leaned in closer, a teasing glint in her eye. “Come on, Diaz. You’re practically a hometown celebrity in your own right.”

“Yeah, Dad! You’re famous! Can I get your autograph?” Christopher pretended to scribble a signature in the air with his spoon, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

He rolled his eyes dramatically but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m still the same guy, you know.”

“Except with a published magazine,” Lena chimed in with infectious laughter. “I think that counts as a pretty big upgrade.”

“True,” he admitted, feeling an unfamiliar sense of pride. “But remember, it’s all thanks to you two. I wouldn’t be here without your support.”

Christopher took his last scoop of sherbet. “So, if I get a copy, can I say my dad is the best model ever?”

“Definitely. You can tell everyone that you have the best dad in the whole world,” Lena added, giving him an encouraging smile. 

Eddie glanced between them both with a fondness that settled comfortably in his chest. “You know, I think I’m the luckiest dad in the world, having you as my son.”

“Daaaaad,” Christopher groaned and he chuckled.

“It’s true, mijo,” he repeated. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can’t wait to show everyone at school!” Christopher exclaimed in response. “They’re all going to be so jealous!”

“Just remember, it’s not about being jealous. It’s about being proud of what you can accomplish,” he reminded him gently.

“Right!” he agreed, nodding seriously as if he were processing the wisdom of the world. Then, with a cheeky grin, he added, “But I still want to make them jealous!”

He and Lena burst into laughter. “Ay, mijo.”

----------

Evan Buckley – known as Buck to his friends and colleagues – had always been drawn to the art of capturing life through a lens. It wasn’t always the glamorous world of high-fashion shoots or star-studded campaigns that would eventually define his career. No, for Buck, photography started as a way to survive. A way to escape.

Growing up in the suburbs of Pennsylvania, he was the youngest child. His father, a stern man with high expectations, had little patience for things he deemed unnecessary or frivolous. The family’s house, though modest, was filled with a sense of duty. Discipline, responsibility, and success were the themes of their household. And ignorance. There wasn’t much room for individuality, and even less for any sort of creative expression. His mother, though Maddie claimed as loving and kind, was often too caught up in her own quiet battles to nurture any of the dreams her children might have had. He couldn’t even remember the last time she looked at him if it wasn’t to scream at him for being reckless and ignoring him even more – something he thought was impossible.

But he had always been different from Maddie. While she was focused on academics and going off to a prestigious college, he felt like he didn’t belong. He wasn’t interested in joining the track team or memorizing Latin verbs. He could never please his parents; although they never paid him any attention to care. He was a burden to them, unwanted and unloved. No, he found solace in the quiet hum of the world around him – an unspoken beauty in the places that others passed by, unnoticed. It was the delicate curve of a streetlamp at dusk, the reflection of rain on a cracked sidewalk, or the soft glow of a sunrise that caught his attention. These things, small and fleeting, held a power that no one else seemed to see.

On his fourteenth birthday, his father gave him an old, battered camera.

“You want to take pictures? Fine. Here’s a camera,” he’d said, his tone flat, disinterested. “See if it’s worth your time.”

At first, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. The camera was nothing fancy – just a basic point-and-shoot black and white model – but it was his. He spent that afternoon walking around the neighbourhood, snapping pictures of everything he could find. The cracked pavement of the alleyway behind their house. The face of an old man sitting on a park bench, his hands weathered and worn. A stray dog darting between the trees in the early morning light. He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular – he wasn’t worried about exposure or composition or even the film quality. He was simply capturing life as it was.

When Mrs Whittaker helped him develop them and he laid eyes on the finished results, his heart skipped a beat. There they were – moments frozen in time, things he’d never even noticed before, now captured forever. His pulse quickened as he stared at the images, realising that he could do more than just look at the world. He could preserve it. He could make others see it, too.

That was when he knew. Photography was not just a hobby. It was his way out. It was his form of rebellion, a language he could speak without words. A way for him to recapture the beauty and connection to the world his parents had severed. It was his means of navigating the chaos of his life – his way of making sense of a world that never seemed to fit him.

But of course, his parents didn’t care. Maddie was supportive, of course, in the scarce messages he got from her between her work and studies. But his mother remained indifferent to his newfound passion, barely acknowledging his presence when he tried to show her his work. His father didn’t know how to encourage a path that didn’t lead to a stable job, something “sensible” like law or medicine. But for him, the art of photography gave him a sense of purpose he couldn’t find elsewhere. It became his escape from a home filled with unspoken tension and his own growing sense of inadequacy the longer he stayed under that roof. The camera was always there for him, a constant companion that never judged.

As he grew older, he pursued photography with an intensity that left little room for anything else. He attended a community college as far away from home as possible, where he honed his skills in the darkroom and studied everything he could about lighting, angles, and technique. His professors were impressed with his talent, often singling him out as someone destined for greater things. But he wasn’t interested in academic praise. He wanted something more. He wanted to show the world what he saw – the beauty in the everyday, the moments that were often missed in the rush of life.

His first real break came when he was just twenty-one. He had been working part-time as a photographer’s assistant in a small studio, doing mundane tasks like organising files and running errands for the senior photographers. But he didn’t mind. He spent every free moment practicing, learning the craft from the shadows. One day, he was asked to fill in for a last-minute shoot when one of the photographers called out sick. The job was for a local fashion magazine – nothing too glamorous – but it was an opportunity, and he wasn’t about to let it slip by. 

The shoot went better than anyone expected. He had a natural eye for capturing the models at just the right moment – the perfect angle, the right light that made everything pop. The magazine’s editor was impressed and endeared by his bold choice to disregard his studio’s guidelines and work in monochrome, and within a week, he was offered his first freelance contract. The rest, as they say, was history.

Over the next several years, his reputation began to grow. His unique style – raw, unpolished, but undeniably beautiful – caught the attention of high-end fashion brands. His portfolio exploded with campaigns, magazine covers, and celebrity shoots. But despite all the accolades, he never forgot where he came from; he never lost sight of why he started. Photography, to him, was more than just a career. It was his way of reclaiming his life in a world that had often felt cold and indifferent. It was his way of telling his own story, one frame at a time.

There were still moments when he couldn’t shake the weight of his past – the feeling of never being enough for his parents, the pressure to be something he wasn’t. But when he stood behind a camera, the world became clear. The lens didn’t care about his past; it cared about the present. About capturing the fleeting moments, the soft details that made life worth living.

Now, as one of the most successful photographers in the industry, he could look back on his journey with pride. He was the one who made this life for himself. Not anyone else – him. His work – his art – was still rooted in that need to escape, to find beauty in the chaos, to capture what others overlooked. But it was also a reminder. Photography wasn’t just what he did; it was who he was. It was the one thing that had always kept him grounded, no matter how far the world around him had spun.

As he took a sip of his drink and the ice clinked softly against the glass, he glanced at the photographs hanging on the walls of his studio. Each one told a different story – stories of love, pain, joy, and fleeting moments of grace. They were pieces of his journey, scattered like fragments of his soul. And for him, that was enough.

He didn’t need approval anymore. He didn’t need anyone to understand why he chose this path. The camera had never asked him to explain himself. It had simply let him create. And in that, he found the beauty he had always been searching for.

----------

Eddie stood outside his agent’s office, a mix of anticipation and nerves swirling in his stomach. The familiar scent of coffee and cologne wafted through the air, blending with the bustling sounds of the city outside. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of all the hard work that had led him to this moment.

“Eddie! Come in!” Maria called from inside her office, her voice bright and welcoming.

As he stepped in, he noticed the cluttered desk piled high with magazines, contracts, and half-drunk coffee cups – a true testament to the whirlwind of the modelling industry.

“Hey, Maria,” he said, offering a small smile as he settled into the chair across from her.

“First off, congratulations on the LA Living feature! I knew it would happen for you!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “You’ve really made a name for yourself lately.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he replied, still riding the wave of excitement from his recent success. “It’s been a wild ride.”

She leaned back, her expression shifting to one of business. “Speaking of wild rides, we have a couple of exciting opportunities that have just come up.” She flipped through some papers on her desk, then looked back at him. “Two companies are interested in you for their upcoming campaigns. Both want to sign you, but I can’t disclose their names just yet.”

His heart raced. “Two? At the same time?” He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. “What kind of campaigns are we talking about?”

“They’re both high-profile deals,” she explained, her voice steady. “One is a fashion brand that’s launching a new line, and the other is a lifestyle brand focusing on wellness and fitness. They’re both interested in making you the main face.”

“Seriously?” he murmured, trying to absorb the news. His mind raced with possibilities, images of himself modelling for brands he admired flashing through his thoughts. But beneath the excitement, a thread of anxiety began to weave its way through him. “Why can’t you tell me who they are?”

She sighed, her brow furrowing slightly. “Some paranoid bullshit about models being sent to infiltrate.” She waved her hand dismissively. “They’re still finalising details, and both companies want to keep their options open until contracts are signed. But trust me, they’re reputable, and this would be a huge step for your career.”

“Right,” he said with a small nod. “So, what’s the timeline?”

“Quick. They want to make a decision within the week,” she replied, assessing his reaction. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but this is your breakout moment, Eddie.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of it loom over him. “What details can you give me?”

She shuffled through her papers, pulling the ones she needed closer. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with the pay and hours,” he replied, leaning forward slightly.

“Okay, so the fashion brand is offering a base pay of $30,000 for the campaign, which includes a series of photoshoots and promotional events.” She read. “Seven months, around thirty-five hours per week.”

He nodded, mentally noting the figures. “And the other?”

“Better pay - $50,000,” she explained. “Longer duration, but this one is forty-seven hours a week, plus additional hours for events.”

He hummed. “What about the requirements? Any specific obligations?”

“For the fashion brand, you’ll need to attend fittings and style meetings, but they’re pretty flexible with scheduling. They value collaboration and creativity, which is great for you,” Maria said, then paused. “The lifestyle brand would require more rigid commitments, including social media engagements and promotional appearances across multiple states.”

His brow furrowed. “That’s more than modelling.”

“Exactly. They’re looking for someone to be their face – frequent posts, events, and appearances that could stretch into the weekends. They essentially want you to live the life they’re selling and share it. It’s a lot,” she confirmed.

“The lifestyle one would be a bigger break,” he muttered, glancing at the papers. “But I really don’t want to have to live on social media.”

Maria nodded. “I thought you might say that.”

He let out a slow breath. “Plus, that would take me away from Chris too much. I need something that can fit around us.”

“Do you need some time to think about it?” she asked.

He lifted his head to look at her and shook his head. “I think I already knew when you first told me what they were.”

She chuckled and tapped her fingers on the desk. “Despite probably knowing your answer, I’m going to need you to confirm it for me.”

“It’s a reputable company?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh, yes. Actually, they’re one of the biggest in LA.”

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Okay. Put me forward for the fashion line.”

“It’s already a done deal. They specifically requested you,” she said, gathering her papers together, unlocked her laptop, and flashed him a cocky grin. “But let me see if I can make some negotiations.”

----------

Eddie’s heart raced as he made his way to the small restaurant where the meeting was set to take place. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the city, a mix of sounds that usually brought him comfort, but today they only added to his nerves. He had readied himself for this moment – his chance to solidify his spot with the fashion brand he had chosen – but now that he was close, a mix of excitement and anxiety swirled within him.

As he approached, he scanned the outdoor seating area for the familiar tell of a business deal. The sun shone brightly, highlighting the modern decoration, and he took a moment to collect his thoughts before stepping inside. 

“Mr. Diaz,” a cheerful voice called out from across the room.

He turned to see a tall man with a confident gait and a welcoming smile striding toward him. He wore a tailored suit that spoke of both style and sophistication. 

“Mr. Nash?” he asked, the name ringing a bell as he studied his face before it clicked into place. He had seen the advertisements and read all the articles. His eyes widened as his heart skipped a beat, fingers twitching. “You’re Robert Nash…”

“Call me Bobby,” he said, extending a hand. 

He shook it firmly, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Everyone had heard of Bobby Nash, the mastermind behind the 118 clothing brand, a label that had taken the fashion world by storm. He could have only ever dreamed of owning any of their pieces, yet he was standing before the very man himself. For a job interview. Shit.

“It’s great to meet you,” he said, forcing a professional demeanour despite the excitement and disbelief bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m really looking forward to discussing this opportunity.”

Bobby nodded, his expression genuine. “Likewise. I’ve been following your work for a while now. You’ve got a unique style that I think would resonate well with our brand.”

“Thank you, that means a lot,” he replied, a sense of validation washing over him. They settled at a table near the window, the vibrant street life acting as a backdrop to their conversation.

“So, let’s get into the details,” Bobby said, pulling out a sleek tablet. “I want to talk about our vision for this campaign and how we see you fitting into it.”

He waited patiently as Bobby pulled up a PowerPoint and twisted the tablet toward him. It highlighted the brand’s focus on modern, professional attire. 

“We’re aiming for something fresh and relatable, but with a touch of elegance,” he explained, showing some images of design sketches. “You have that natural charisma that can bridge both worlds.”

Without registering the praise, he gawked at the sketches, feeling the initial nerves begin to dissipate. He could envision himself wearing the sleek designs, promoting the clothing with his signature style. Pulled up some ideas from previous shoots that they could adapt.

“I can do that,” he said, and Bobby nodded, flicking to the next slide.

“Now, let’s discuss the logistics,” he continued, detailing the schedule, the expected hours, and the types of promotional work involved. He took mental notes, nodding along as he absorbed the information. “We can also be flexible, within reason.”

He hummed. “I have a kid, Christopher. He’s seven.”

Bobby nodded with a gentle smile. “Understood. A lot of our team have children, we can work around that.”

A small smile played about his lips as he eyed the schedule again, noting when he could have Abuela or Tia Pepa look after Christopher and the school runs. It would be tight some days, but it could work.

“Your agent mentioned that you were being poached by another company.”

He looked up. “Uh, yeah,” he said, not quite sure whether to go into details. 

“I want you at 118,” he stated, gaze steady. “I’m willing to match the price she gave me.”

His eyes widened slightly, processing what this meant. Regaining his professionalism, he cleared his throat and nodded sharply. “So, when can I expect to start?”

“Once we finalise the details, you will be sent the information via email from my office,” Bobby said, tapping his tablet. “I believe you’ll be a fantastic addition to the 118 family.”

He felt his heart soar at the words. “I’m looking forward to this opportunity, Bobby. I truly appreciate your faith in me.”

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “We’re excited too. Your talent speaks for itself, and I think this collaboration could really elevate both our brand and your career.”

As they wrapped up the meeting, gratitude consumed him. He had come into this meeting uncertain, but now he left feeling like he had made the right choice. The prospect of working with 118 was not just a career move; it felt like a chance to grow and thrive.

“Thank you for your time today, Bobby,” he said as they stood to leave. “I look forward to finalising everything.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Diaz. Welcome aboard,” Bobby nodded, his tone warm and inviting. 

“Eddie,” he replied with a grin as he shook his hand firmly; he returned it.

“Eddie,” he corrected and then left.

Stepping out of the café, he took a deep breath, soaking in the reality of the moment. He was officially part of the 118 clothing brand. This was it. His big break. As he made his way home, the smile never left his face, imagining how excited Christopher would be to hear the news. This was just the beginning, and he was ready to embrace whatever came next.

----------

Buck was never one to linger too long in one place. His world moved in moments – snapshots of time that came and went before he could fully grasp them. But today, instead of going on a spontaneous road trip to quell the unsatiable ache coursing through him, he found himself walking through the 118 headquarters with his sister, Maddie, as they headed toward the rooftop for some fresh air. There was a palpable buzz in the air, a sense of creativity and innovation that he could feel in his bones. But even the most vibrant places had their dull moments, and today, he was in one of them.

“I swear Bobby’s trying to kill me with this campaign,” he grumbled as they entered the stairwell, past the bustling design teams and the high-energy vibe of the studio floor. “The models are awful.”

“You’re picky, Buck. Everyone in this building would kill to work with the models you get." Maddie laughed softly, adjusting her oversized sunglasses as she walked beside him and they pushed through the fire escape and headed toward the edge of the roof.  "But I guess that’s the thing, isn’t it? They don't have the right energy," she teased.

“Exactly,” he exulted, his voice flat with frustration as he leaned against the raised edge. “But it’s like pulling teeth lately. They all look great, don’t get me wrong – perfect faces, perfect bodies, but…they’re just boring, Maddie. They stand there, look pretty, and that’s it. There’s no depth. No life. It’s like posing for the sake of posing.”

“I can’t say I blame them,” she commented, gazing over the city sprawled below as the wind caught her hair. “You push your models hard. You’re not exactly gentle with your direction.”

“If they can’t handle it, then maybe they’re not cut out for it,” he shot back, his tone light but still tinged with disappointment. “It’s not about just looking good for a camera. It’s about making something happen. It’s about creating emotion. I want them to show me their soul, not just a vacant stare.” 

Maddie glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. “A little too poetic for a fashion photographer, don’t you think? We’re a fashion brand, Buck. How much soul do you want?”

“Maybe, but that’s the problem,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly, almost as though he were confiding in her. “Lately, everything feels…surface-level. People are more concerned with their Instagram likes than with what they’re actually conveying. I need someone who can give me more. Someone who gets what I’m trying to say, not just what the brand says they should look like.”

He peered over the edge and then clasped his hands together, turning his head to face her.

“I get it,” she said and placed a hand on his arm. “But maybe you’re looking for something too specific. You’re working with people, Buck. No one’s going to be exactly what you expect. Everyone has their own energy.”

“I’ve been trying. I’m looking for the right kind of mess, the right kind of chaos that I can channel through my lens.” He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I need that unpredictability. If the shoot feels like it’s going through the motions, then I’m not getting what I need.”

Maddie smiled at him, her eyes warm but knowing. “Sounds like you’re looking for something more than just a model. Maybe you’re looking for a muse.”

His lips curved into a small, self-aware smile. “Maybe. But that’s a lot to ask for, don’t you think?”

“It’s not about asking. It’s about finding it when it happens,” she replied, voice more serious and grounded. “You can’t force a connection like that. You’ll burn yourself out if you keep pushing it. Just let the process unfold, and trust that you’ll find the right person when the time comes.”

He paused momentarily, considering her words. She was right – sort of. He couldn’t deny that he had been chasing something elusive, trying to recreate a spark he hadn’t found in a while. But could he really sit back and wait for it? He wasn’t the type of person to just let things fall into his lap. He was the one who created the moment and shaped the energy. The rest was just details.

But then, perhaps the issue wasn’t the models – maybe it was him, his expectations, and his need to control every single moment. Maybe the answer wasn’t to keep trying to force it. Maybe it was to step back, let go, and let the creative energy come to him naturally.

“Thanks, Maddie,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “You always know how to make me think.”

She smirked, tapping his arm playfully as she cocked her head to signal they should go back inside. “I have to. Someone has to keep you grounded.”

He smiled, appreciating her ability to cut through his spiralling thoughts and followed her. “I’m trying. Really, I am.”

“Good,” she said, giving him a quick hug as they rejoined the bustle of the offices. “Now, go wait for your muse, Buck. You’ll find them. You know you will.”

There was a new understanding that maybe he had been looking too hard. The right moment would come, but it wouldn’t come from force. It would come from letting go and allowing the chaos to find its way into the frame.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Maybe I will.”

And with that, he felt the first spark of excitement in a while – the hope that, like a photograph, life would come into focus when he least expected it.

----------

Eddie stepped into the glossy, innovative headquarters of the 118 clothing brand, the atmosphere buzzing with creativity and energy. The walls were adorned with vibrant mood boards and fabric swatches, a visual feast that ignited his excitement even further. Today, he was set to meet the rest of the team, and he couldn’t wait to dive into the collaborative spirit that had drawn him to the brand in the first place.

As he entered the open space, he spotted Bobby near a cluster of desks, chatting with a few team members. The office whirred with life, people weaving through each other and around the different workstations like bees preparing a presentation of goods for the queen. Eddie approached, his heart pounding with anticipation as he effectively dodged a man stumbling in front of him with a mound of fabric clutched in his arms. 

“Eddie, perfect timing!” Bobby said, turning to him with a broad smile. “Let me introduce you to everyone. That was Josh – senior designer.”

He watched the retreating figure and nodded slowly, turning his attention back to his boss. 

“You’ll want to keep an eye out for him randomly appearing,” he chuckled. 

Bobby led him through the bustling workspace, introducing him to various team members from different departments as they made their rounds, each welcoming him with genuine enthusiasm. Sue was the Marketing Manager, with Linda as her second in command. There was also Taylor, who was too wrapped up in something in her office to say hello, but she was the Communication Officer and Social Media Manager. Ravi was the Sales Manager and Lucy was a Personal Stylist. And so many more; he didn’t realise exactly how much work went into selling clothes. Finally, they reached a small group huddled together, laughter ringing through the air. He recognised the first two immediately from the advertisements.

“Guys, this is Eddie,” Bobby announced. “Our newest model.”

“Now that is a beautiful man,” the short man whistled.

“Where’s the lie?” the woman beside him remarked, raising her eyebrows at him. “And I like girls.”

He laughed and scratched the back of his neck before letting his hand fall back to his side. “Thank you?”

“Nice to meet you,” the short man extended a hand, a cocky glint in his eye. “I’m Chimney. And I must say, you’ve got some big shoes to fill. Don’t let my looks intimidate you.”

He chuckled, shaking his hand. “I’ll do my best. I’ve seen your work – no pressure, right?”

Hen, a poised and confident woman with a blinding smile, elbowed Chimney playfully. “More like small shoes to fill,” she chortled and turned to Eddie. “It’s great to have you on board. We’re excited to see what you bring to the table.”

“Thanks. I’ve actually admired your work for ages,” he replied, genuinely impressed. “You’ve got a real talent for making anything look amazing.”

“Oh, I like you. Flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased, returning his smile. “Just be ready for Chim to make every photoshoot a competition. It’s like he’s trying to win the ‘Best Model’ award every time.”

“Hey, I don’t need to try – I’m naturally gifted,” Chimney quipped, puffing out his chest in mock seriousness. Hen rolled her eyes, and he laughed at their playful banter. It was refreshing to see such adoration for each other in the vicious world they were in.

As the laughter settled, Bobby gestured toward a nearby workspace. “And over here is Maddie, our lead designer. She’s currently working on a piece that I think you’ll find intriguing.”

He turned to see a gorgeous woman focused intently on her sketchpad, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. She had an artistic flair about her, dressed in a way that was both stylish and practical. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her focused face, which she tucked behind her ear and pinned in place with a pencil. She was surrounded by a flurry of materials and sketches; the mannequin to her right-hand side was punctured with various pins and markers. 

“Maddie, this is Eddie,” Bobby introduced, walking closer to her. 

She looked up, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “Eddie! Welcome!”, she exclaimed, standing up to greet him. “It’s so great to finally meet you in person. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Thanks, Maddie. I absolutely love your work,” he replied, unable to keep his enthusiasm in check. “Your designs are incredible. I can’t wait to see what you have in mind for the new line.”

She beamed at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with passion. “I’m thrilled to hear that. I’ve been sketching some ideas specially tailored to your style. I think we can create something really special together.” She gestured to the array of sketches spread out on the table, inviting him to take a closer look.

“Designed for me?” he asked incredulously, stepping closer. 

“Of course.” She hummed. “I’ve studied your portfolio. I design for all our models, and I’ve been excited to do yours – as you can tell.”

He leaned over the table to examine her work. Each sketch was more impressive than the last – fluid lines and bold colours that captured both movement and emotion.

“Wow, these are amazing. This one here,” he pointed to a design featuring layered fabrics and an asymmetrical hem, “looks like it has so much potential for a dynamic photoshoot.”

Her face lit up with excitement. “Exactly! I envision it with some unique accessories and a dramatic backdrop. It would really pop on camera. Plus, I think it would complement your physique perfectly.”

“It would really showcase not just the clothing, but also the attitude we want to convey for 118,” Bobby said. “Bold, confident, and contemporary. This is why Maddie is the best of the best.”

She blushed at the compliment, clearly pleased with the direction. “And I want to incorporate elements that tell a story. Each piece should not only look great but also resonate with the audience. That’s why I also want to hear how you feel in the clothes. It’s important to me that you’re comfortable and authentic in what you wear.”

“I appreciate that,” he said sincerely. “It’s refreshing to talk with someone who really cares about the model’s experience. I’ve been in some…less than desirable situations with designers, let’s say.”

“That’s not how I operate,” she replied, her tone earnest. “Fashion is about expression, and I believe every model brings their own unique voice to the pieces. I want us to create a collaborative spirit where we can push boundaries and innovate.”

“I’m all in.” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Not sure I can be much help on the technical side, but I love the idea of collaborating and building something together.”

“I have a few more designs I’d love to show you,” she rushed out, excitement exuding from her. “I think they’ll really fit your personality and the brand’s vision.”

She glanced at Bobby and grinned sheepishly.

“Unless you’ve got places to be?”

“You can steal him during your scheduled meetings,” Bobby said, although there was no harshness to his tone, only affection; he couldn’t fault her for getting carried away. “I promise he’ll be all yours soon.”

“Great,” she said, turning to grin at Eddie again and tilting her head to the side as Bobby started walking away. “My brother’s gonna love you.”

“Your brother?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“Eddie!” Bobby called and he flicked his head between them.

Maddie waved him off. “See you tomorrow!”

“Looking forward to it,” he replied with a wide grin and jogged to catch up. 

----------

The early morning light filtered through the expansive windows of the 118 building, casting long shadows across the polished concrete floors. It was just past seven, and the place was already alive with energy – people hustling through the halls, conversations buzzing in the air, the clink of coffee cups and the scuffle of shoes. But Buck wasn’t quite there yet. He had been up since five a.m., wrapping up a late-night shoot that had run long, and the exhaustion still clung to him like a heavy fog.

“Could’ve used another hour of sleep,” he muttered, stretching his neck as he walked beside Maddie through the main floor. “I swear, the city never sleeps, and neither does my damn phone.”

She shot him a quick glance, half-laughing, half-sympathetic. “You did choose this life, Buck. No one’s forcing you to be the busiest photographer in LA.”

“Keeps me from going insane,” he grinned tiredly, pushing open the glass door that led to the design department. “But it’s the only life I know.”

Maddie nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as a sharp breeze drifted through the office. Despite the design team usually starting an hour later than everybody else, her workspace was already filled with people. Some of them were models, standing to the sides, checking their phones or chatting with the stylists who were setting up for the day’s shoots. Others were her fellow designers, laughing as they reviewed sketches and fabric swatches. The hum of creative energy was already intense, but for Buck, it was more of a distant buzz. He needed coffee. He needed to wake up. He needed a moment to just breathe.

“So, what’s on your schedule today?” Maddie asked as she approached her desk, setting her bag and coat down. 

“Few meetings. A couple of calls. I need to go over some test shots with a new model later,” he said with a shrug. “The usual.”

“Sounds like a whole lot of nothing exciting,” she teased, shifting through her papers. “You talk about it like you don’t love it.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I do love it. It’s just…everything feels so stale.”

She paused and gave him a pointed look. “No models taking your fancy yet, huh?”

He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “I’m waiting for my muse, I promise. But I’m picky. It’s gotta be the right chemistry.”

“You might be making this more difficult than it has to be.” She shook her head softly, stepping in front of him and placing her hands on her hips. “You’re looking for perfection, but that’s impossible to find. What happened to you seeing beauty in everything through the lens? Don’t let yourself lose that trying to make these jobs work.”

He exhaled slowly, his thoughts scattered. His eyes were half-lidded from exhaustion, and his brain was foggy. But, as usual, Maddie had a point. Maybe he was getting too hung up on trying to fit a certain mould. He needed to remind himself of his passion and encourage his models to be themselves, even if it didn’t check every single one of the boxes his contracts confined him to.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, still not entirely convinced. 

She grinned knowingly, but before she could say anything more, his gaze shifted to far side of the room. Across the studio floor, there was a gorgeous, unfamiliar face talking with Hen and Chimney. He hadn’t noticed him at first, but now that he had, he couldn’t look away. Wanted to engrain that face in his memory and imprint it into his camera’s film.

The man was standing with his back slightly turned, his posture relaxed but confident. He wasn’t trying too hard, and yet, he had an effortless charisma that Buck could see from a distance. There was something in the way he moved, in the quiet intensity of his expression, that immediately captured his attention. His frame was sturdy but not bulky, his features strong but soft, and his photographer’s eye immediately recognised something about him that was both grounded and magnetic.

He didn’t even realise he was staring until Maddie’s voice broke through the haze in his head.

“His name’s Eddie Diaz,” she said with a teasing tone, though there was something more in her voice – something that hinted at the recognition that had just passed between them.

He blinked a few times. Eddie Diaz. It was like something inside him clicked into place – this was the model he had been searching for. Not just physically – though Eddie was undeniably attractive, something he wanted his hands on – but in the energy he gave off. The quiet confidence. The realness.

He barely registered her amused grin as he said, his voice almost to himself, “Him. I want him.”

Her teasing smile softened, and she turned to follow his gaze. She could see the shift in her brother, the subtle spark that had gone off inside him. She had seen it happen before, but never with quite the same intensity. 

“He’s…different, huh?” she observed, watching him carefully.

He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on Eddie, who was now laughing at something Chimney had said - laughter that bubbled and danced across the room into his ears. His heart beat a little faster, but he wasn’t sure why. It was more than just the attraction – it was an instinct. A pull. Something that was impossible to ignore.

“He’s beautiful,” he said quietly, admiring every detail of the new stranger. “It’s not just about the way he looks. It’s…there.” He motioned with his hand, as if he could physically express the way Eddie had drawn him in.

Maddie smiled, gathering a couple of files into her arms. “You know, you’ve got that look in your eye. That ‘I’ve found my muse’ look.”

His eyes narrowed, a smile creeping onto his lips. “I think I have,” he said, his voice low, thoughtful. 

He glanced at her, then back at Eddie. His mind was already racing with ideas for the shoot – lighting, angles, the way Eddie would move through the frame. Everything about him felt right, and for once, he didn’t need to chase perfection. He just needed to let it happen.

“I see you’re already smitten.”

He blinked, quickly breaking eye contact. He coughed lightly, his face warming under his sister’s knowing gaze. “I’m not…smitten. I’m just…observing.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. “Uh-huh. Observing. You’re practically undressing him with your eyes, Buck.”

“I just think he’d look good for the campaign,” he said, his tone defensively light, but his mind whirling. 

“So,” Maddie mocked with a gasp. “Does this boy crush on Eddie mean that you’re finally ready to move on from Abby?” 

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “That’s cute.”

“He’s cute, huh?” she chuckled, watching her brother squirm. “He signed a contract two days ago.”

“And no one told me?”

“Sorry, baby brother,” she said with a smirk, picking up her pencil and tucking it behind her ear. “He’s all mine.”

“You what?” He looked at her, eyes wide, then at the files in her arms, then back at Eddie.

She smirked, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Yeah, I’m overseeing his collaboration with the design team. He’s here to discuss a few things.”

 
His jaw dropped. A bit dramatic, maybe. He knew he had no claim on the man, that Maddie had every right to be working with him, but…

“Are you serious?” he whined. “He’s been here for, what, five minutes and you’ve already stolen him?”

She burst out laughing, patting his shoulder, still, somehow, smug. “Of course I have, have you seen him? He’s a designer's dream.”

His eyes widened, and he pleaded with her the best way he knew how. “You have to introduce me, Mads.”

She simply smiled and started to walk away. “Sorry, Buck. I have a very important meeting and can’t be late. Can’t fall behind schedule!”

With a final wink thrown his way, she walked over toward Eddie, her footsteps light a purposeful. He watched from a distance, fiddling nervously with the pen pot on the desk, his eyes glued to Eddie as if he were afraid that someone might snatch him away before he got the chance to speak to him. But before he could gather the courage to follow her and introduce himself, Maddie had already reached him and was greeting him with a warm smile.

“Eddie!” she said cheerfully, her tone friendly but professional. “So glad you could make it. How’s everything going?”

Eddie turned to the sound of her voice, his expression brightening when he saw her. “Maddie, good to see you. Things are great so far, thanks for asking.”

Buck had a clear view of him now, standing near the coffee station, their conversation easy, like old friends. His mind was racing as he watched them talk. He was supposed to be thinking about his next shoot, about the project he had coming up, preparing for his own meeting – but all he could think about was Eddie. The way he moved, the way he smiled, the way he stood just a little bit taller than the rest. The way his voice reverberated through his chest like he was coming home.

He stood there, rooted to the spot, watching them turn on their heels and walk toward one of the private meeting rooms without so much as glancing his way. His heart raced, thumping quickly but gently against his chest. Through the glass window of the meeting room, he watched as they settled in. His eyes didn’t leave Eddie for a moment, as though he was memorising every detail. Something inside him shifted – something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

And as he stood there, waiting, watching, until Maddie wiggled her fingers at him and closed the blinds, he knew one thing for sure: Eddie Diaz was his muse.

----------

Eddie could feel the static electricity zipping through the air the moment he stepped into the 118. He was charged with the kind of energy you’d expect only a transformer could generate. He had been here a few times now, met with the team, and gotten the rundown, but today was different. Today was his first photoshoot, and his nerves stood to attention as he walked through the double glass doors to the building.

He had done plenty of shoots before, but something about this one felt bigger. It wasn’t just about the brand – it was about truly making a name for himself. His name. This was the shoot that would determine the rest of his life. For the first time in a while, he felt like the pieces were starting to fit together, like all the hard work was beginning to pay off. But there was still a tinge of nervousness beneath the excitement. Scared shitless about it all going wrong. After all, this was 118 – high-end, top-tier. He needed to prove himself.

As he walked toward the studio, he spotted Hen and Chimney chatting by the entrance. They both turned when they saw him, smiles lighting up their faces. His nervousness eased a little at the sight of their friendly, approachable expressions.

“Hey, man, you ready?” Chimney asked, his voice light, teasing. He slung a leather jacket over his shoulder, somehow managing to look effortlessly cool. His hair was messy in the best way, and his smirk was permanent.

He smiled back, trying to stop his fingers twitching against his thigh. “I think so. At least, I hope so.”

Hen laughed, leaning her weight on one leg and balancing against the wall. She donned a gorgeous patterned red shirt, left unbuttoned to showcase the gold necklace contrasting perfectly against a black t-shirt, and a new pair of oval glasses that framed her face perfectly. It was a sharp, distinct and direct style that contrasted nicely with Chimney’s laid-back vibe. She always seemed like she had everything under control.

“You’ll do great,” she said, her smile warm and reassuring. “But, yeah, just make sure to breathe, okay? You’re gonna be fine. If you need anything, we’re here.”

“Definitely,” Chimney added. “Just remember, it’s about selling the clothes and the vibe. Get into it. Own it. You know?”

He nodded, smoothing his beige suit jacket; his diamante black boots shimmered as he shifted, and they caught the light. He had heard the same advice before from photographers, but it felt different coming from them. They were established models, clearly at ease and confident in themselves. He had already learned a lot from them, and knew he would learn a hell of a lot more the longer he worked there.

“There’s just one thing,” he said, glancing between them. “Any tips on working with my photographer?”

Hen and Chimney exchanged a quick look, a silent understanding passing between them. He raised an eyebrow, sensing there was something to their hesitation. 

“Connor’s…good. He knows his stuff. But he’s got his own way of working. Just don’t get thrown off by the silence.” Chimney spoke first, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s not gonna give you a lot of direction unless he needs to. You have to read the room, understand what he wants without him saying it. It’s a bit…intense sometimes.”

Hen nodded in agreement, her expression almost pitiful. “Yeah, it’s not personal. He’s just very focused on getting the perfect shot, and he’s all about precision. He can be a tough crowd, but if you’re confident and go with the flow, you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be afraid to speak up if you’re not feeling something, though,” Chimney added. “That’s the trick. You gotta have your own voice, even if he doesn’t give much back.”

His heart rate quickened slightly as he processed their advice. It didn’t sound bad, per se. Just…different. He was used to photographers who were more chatty, who guided the models more explicitly. But if Connor was as quiet as they said, he’d need to figure it out for himself.

“Got it,” he said with a short nod. “No problem.”

Hen clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re gonna do great, Eddie. Just remember – no matter how it feels in the moment, this is about you owning the shoot. Let go of the nerves.”

Chimney grinned, giving him a playful shove. “Yeah, and if you need backup, just yell. I’m always up for a little mischief.”

He chuckled, grateful for their support. “Thanks, both of you. I appreciate it.”

As they stepped aside to head for their lunch, he took a deep breath, shaking off the last of his nerves. He walked toward the large studio doors, his mind racing as he tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever Connor would throw at him. Or…not? 

He stepped into the studio with newfound excitement. The sharp scent of fresh paint and the metallic tang of camera equipment filled the air, the atmosphere ripe with energy. It was everything he had imagined and more – high-end, polished, and professional. There was an array of screens stacked against the far-left wall, boxes and piles of different lights and shades stacked neatly beside them. Wires trailed hazardously, clamped together with small pins to try and align them more with the health and safety regulations. On the opposite end was where the shots would be taken, already set up with a marble-grey sheet draped over a bench and a white background.

As he took in the studio, his eyes settled on a figure near the back. Connor. The photographer. Hen and Chimney’s words echoed, whispered about how he worked with an intimidating intensity, drawing out the best in his subjects with minimal words. He was quiet, stoic, forceful. He was a photographer who got what he wanted with the lens, not with words.

So, when he saw Connor for the first time, he was surprised by how different he was from the intimidating reputation.

Connor was standing next to a lighting setup, fiddling with a camera. His blond, tousled curls fell over his forehead with a gentle bounce, and his eyes were focused but not in the rigid, intense way he had expected. There was a glint of humour there, a slight twinkle that told him this shoot was going to be anything but dull. Eddie walked toward him, mind racing, eyes scanning over him. 

He stood tall, his physique a perfect blend of strength and definition. His broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, the muscles in his arms and chest clearly outlined beneath the tight-fitting fabric of his shirt. Every movement seemed to highlight the contours of his well-toned body, the clothing hugging his form with just the right amount of stretch. His confident posture and sharp jawline added to the allure, his presence magnetic, effortlessly drawing attention without even trying.

“Hey,” he called, trying to sound casual and not as though he was trying to fight how little his clothes left to the imagination. 

Connor looked up from his camera, a wide grin spreading across his face as his eyes locked onto his. He took a sharp breath, gaze flitting between the bright blue eyes, the soft, plump lips, and the birthmark settled comfortably on his eyebrow. 

Beautiful.

“Hey, Eddie! Can I call you Eddie? Is that okay?” he replied, speaking quickly and moving to set his camera back on the tripod. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope,” he responded, slightly breathless as Connor’s words travelled through the air like a melody. He could listen to that voice all day. “Eddie’s fine.”

“Definitely good things,” he retorted with a grin, his voice warm and easy. There was a slight edge of playfulness to it as he trailed his eyes down his body and subtly licked his lips.

He felt an immediate flush run to his cheeks, grateful for the layers of makeup Kyla had forced him into. “You, uh,” he stuttered, cursing himself internally. “You’re different to what I expected.”

Connor raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “How so?”

He averted his gaze but immediately regretted it, snapping back to make eye contact again like an impulse. He gave a small chuckle, not sure if he should address it directly or play it cool. “I heard you’re…quiet. Like, silent.” 

Connor laughed, clearly amused by his comment. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Ah, yeah, my bad. You thought you were meeting Connor.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced at his watch as though it would give him the answers. A stupid move, really. He didn’t know why he did that. “You’re not Connor?”

“Nah, I’m Evan Buckley,” he said, extending his hand. “But everyone calls me Buck.”

“Wait.” His eyes widened and he froze. “Evan Buckley?”

Buck shuddered at the sound of his name spoken through his lips, grinned and gestured once again with his outstretched hand. “The one and only.”

He snapped back into reality and extended his hand, their fingers brushing before their palms met. When they did, it was like a spark ignited between them. His skin tingled with the unexpected warmth of the touch, the firm grip sending jolts of electricity racing down his arms. The contact was brief, but it felt loaded, every second of it buzzing with an unspoken intensity. For a moment, he couldn’t look away, only swallow as Buck’s smile sent chills down his spine. The sensation still hummed under his skin long after their hands parted, making his heart beat a little faster than it should. 

He was standing in front of Evan Buckley. Six-time Sony World Photography Awards winner Evan Buckley. Youngest published photographer in NENL Evan Buckley. Notorious professional photographer who was impossible to book for events and campaigns because the demand was too high Evan Buckley. Evan fucking Buckley.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to dull the tingling by pressing his hand into his thigh. “Not that I’m not happy to work with you, but where’s Connor?”

Buck glanced around the studio as if making sure no one was listening before dropping his voice to a playful whisper. “He’s…indisposed. So, I’m stepping in for him.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Indisposed?”

“He’s busy, but don’t worry. I’m much better than him.” He waved him off with a grin, letting his eyes wander across his body again. “You’re in good hands.”

He tried to keep his composure. “I- yeah I don’t doubt that.”

Buck’s grin grew wider as Eddie averted his eyes and put his hands in his pockets before pulling them out again and letting them rest against his legs for a moment before choosing to cross his arms instead. 

“So, I shouldn’t expect a silent shoot?”

Buck laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, that’s not me. If I’m being honest, I can’t stand being silent for too long. Don’t think I’m capable of it, really.”

“Right,” he muttered, still trying to avoid looking at him, afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop admiring those gorgeous eyes and lift his fingers to trace his birthmark. 

“Come on, we don’t want to fall behind schedule,” Buck said, gesturing for him to take his place. 

He shook his head, made his way over, and stood in front of the camera, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to relax. The bright lights were already hot against his skin, and he could feel his nerves creeping up on him again. However, it all seemed to stem from the photographer’s easy charm that was making his stomach twist in unexpected ways. 

He was used to being the centre of attention, used to being in front of the camera. But today, something felt different. Maybe it was the way Buck had greeted him with that knowing smile, or the unrestricted confidence that seemed to radiate off him. He couldn’t help but notice the way Buck’s eyes lingered a little longer than usual, the casual coolness with which he moved, and the way his voice seemed to hum with a certain energy every time he spoke to him. 

“Alright, Eddie, we’re just getting started.” Buck’s voice was smooth, laced with something that almost sounded like a tease, but still professional. “Let’s see you get into it. Remember, this one is all about power. Confidence. Like you’re in control of the world around you.”

He nodded, immediately rolling his shoulders back, instinctively falling into the poses he had done previously.

“Good. That’s it,” Buck said, his voice steady and encouraging as he snapped some photos. Eddie noticed a subtle excitement in his tone. “Let it flow. You’ve got the energy. Show it.”

He took a deep breath and let go. The tension in his shoulders melted as he moved fluidly, finding the groove of the shoot. He stretched, turned, and arched his back in slow, deliberate movements, every pose more confident than the last. His body moved without thinking, every line controlled, every angle deliberate. He felt the heat of the lights, the weight of the camera, and the subtle pressure of Buck’s eyes on him. It was as if they were in sync, and he was starting to realise that he could trust Buck’s direction in a way he hadn’t anticipated. 

Buck’s voice floated through the air again, calm but filled with that quiet authority. “Perfect. More like that, but let’s make it even more intense. Turn your face toward the light for me – yeah, like that. Imagine you’re looking at someone you want to destroy. They’re right in front of you and you’re ready to go in for the kill.”

He burst into laughter, ducking his head before letting it fall back slightly as he closed his eyes to block out the blinding lights. The sound of the shutter resounded between his laughs, Buck never once passing up the opportunity to shoot although a smile plastered its way onto his face.

“I don’t think that’s quite the vibe we’re going for,” he said as he finally calmed down, trying to refocus his attention. 

Buck shrugged and pulled the camera to the side, still grinning. “You never know.”

He shook his head with a final chuckle and did as instructed, his body responding effortlessly to Buck’s words. He felt his chest tighten as he slipped into the character the photographer had created for him – a man of power and poise. He sat on the bench, spread his legs, and allowed one arm to rest over his knee while the other propped his head up, index finger pressed into his eyebrow as he subconsciously sought out the pretty birthmark behind the camera. He could feel Buck’s gaze shift across him, assessing, calculating, and yet, somehow, it didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. It made him feel alive. 

“You’re a natural,” Buck complimented, his voice smooth as silk. He didn’t miss the subtle warmth in his tone, the kind of praise that wasn’t just about the work but about Eddie himself. “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”

He hummed. “Yeah, I get that,” he said softly. “Like we’re in tune, you know?”

Buck’s eyes locked with his over the camera, and for a moment, the air between them grew thick. He swallowed as he allowed his eyes to roam over his face again. He truly was beautiful. He didn’t understand how someone so gorgeous ended up on the other end of the camera. His face should be plastered everywhere.

Buck tilted his head slightly, a playful glint in his eye. “Let’s change it up,” he said suddenly, breaking the moment but in a way that only heightened the energy. “I want something more vulnerable. Let go of the power for a second.”

He blinked, surprised by the turn. Vulnerable? That wasn’t usually his strong suit in front of the camera. Buck seemed to sense his apprehension and lowered his arms. But he shook his head gently and gave him a small smile, relaxing his posture as he readjusted his position into something more comfortable. He leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out casually in front of him and gestured to the room. 

“So, this is your domain, huh?” he asked.

Buck snapped a few quick shots, each one capturing a different angle of his effortless charm.

“More a home than anywhere I’ve ever been,” he replied. “And trust me, I’ve seen a lot of places.”

He grinned, nodding in understanding as he moved into another position, this time clasping his hands together over his bent knees. Despite there being a camera in his face, he wasn’t posing. He was simply having a conversation.

“Why do you love photography so much?” he asked, voice low but curious, his grin turning more sincere. He could see Buck moving around him, adjusting the angles, capturing his every slight movement.  

Buck paused, his camera lowering for a split second as he thought about the question. His gaze flickered toward Eddie for just a moment, studying him with quiet intensity, before he brought the camera back up to his face.

“Why?” he repeated as though he hadn’t really been asked that question in a long time. “It’s…more than just pictures for me. It’s about capturing something real – something that’s not just what people want you to see, but what’s really there beneath the surface. Like you.”

He tilted his head, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Buck took a shot, his fingers effortlessly adjusting the settings as he spoke. “I mean,” he started, voice becoming softer, more contemplative. “That I’m finally capturing something that feels alive. Like you’re not just posing for the camera – you’re living in every frame.”

He felt the words sink in, the weight of them making him falter momentarily and snapped out of it when another click of the shutter informed him Buck had probably caught his dazed expression. He straightened up a bit, a genuine smile on his face. There was something about Buck’s quiet admiration that felt different from the usual compliments he received.

“You’re making me sound like a piece of art,” he teased, though the words felt heavy on his tongue.

Buck laughed softly, snapping another shot. “Maybe you are.”

Eddie chuckled, raising his brows as he gave Buck a mischievous look. “You’ve got a way with words, huh?”

“I just know what I see,” he confirmed, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he crouched down, changing his angle. “And what I see is someone who doesn’t just look good in a photo, Eddie. There’s more to it than that. Something that’s hard to put into words.”

He repositioned on the bench again, making sure to keep his body loose and natural. His movements were smooth and fluid – he’d long learned the importance of being both strong and graceful in front of the camera. But Buck’s words stuck with him, and he found himself leaning into the moment more than he had with any other photographer.

As Buck moved around him, he felt himself slipping into a rhythm with him. Every shot seemed to pull more from him – more of the unguarded, real Eddie that he always held back during shoots as they continued talking about how they both stumbled into the world and their favourite projects they had done. The way Buck seemed to anticipate his movements, adjusting for every small shift, made him feel like he wasn’t just being photographed. He was being seen.

Buck’s fingers flew over the camera, constantly adjusting, changing focus, capturing the small moments that made Eddie who he was.  

“There it is,” he muttered, barely audible, but he caught the words. “That’s the one.”

He smiled to himself, something stirring deep in his chest as he watched Buck lower the camera and let out a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze with a smile that said it all.

“I think we’ve got it,” he said, satisfied. “I’ve been looking for that…for a while.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Looking for what?”

Buck just shook his head, his eyes crinkling with that same spark. He leaned forward, eyes locked onto his. “Someone like you.”

“You say that to all your models?” he deflected, twisting the rings on his fingers.

“Helps build confidence,” Buck retorted with a cheeky grin, packing away his gear.

He couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”

“Eddie?” Chimney called as he burst through the doors. “Maddie’s looking for – Buck? What are you doing here?”

Buck slung his bag over his shoulder. “Working.”

Chimney opened his mouth and frowned. “I thought you had that-“

“Did you want Eddie?” he asked, nodding his head to the side in his direction. 

Chimney’s eyes widened slightly as he nodded and turned to him. “Maddie’s looking for you. She’s got a draw-up of a design you were both working on?”

“Oh! Great!” he said as he stood up and walked over to them. He glanced at Buck. “We all done here?”

There was a hint of disappointment on Buck’s face, and maybe he caught a glimpse of annoyance at the mention of Maddie, but it was easily masked by a bright smile that had him weak at the knees again. He chalked it up to the sudden interruption. 

“Yeah,” Buck said, wiggling his camera. “Got everything I need.”

“Great,” he replied, joining Chimney and giving him a small wave. “See you around.”

As he turned away, he tried not to notice the small twitch of Buck’s lips as though he wanted to say something more. He pushed through the doors and stepped into the corridor, matching Chimney’s pace as he recounted a funny story from his rookie model days. Thinking back to the shoot, he mentally slapped himself in the head, realising he hadn’t thanked Buck on his way out.

Evan Buckley. The Evan Buckley. And he hadn’t even said thank you.

----------

Buck’s home studio was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustling of papers. His last client had left twenty minutes ago, already eager to see the results of her portfolio pictures. He was cleaning up his gear, packing away his camera and lenses, but his mind was still on the photoshoot from that morning. He couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie, about how well it had gone. How easy it had been to capture those shots – how naturally Eddie had fallen into the poses but didn’t seem like he was posing at all. How effortlessly he’d brought something deeper to each frame. That goddamn smile and natural charisma when Buck had managed to make him laugh without even trying. It had felt like the perfect shoot. Hell, it was the perfect shoot.

Maddie appeared in the doorway, a smile already tugging at her lips as she saw him absorbed in his thoughts. She leaned against the frame and crossed her arms. “What’s this I hear about you hijacking one of Connor’s jobs?”

He swivelled around to look at her, mouth dropped open as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t hijack. I was doing him a favour.”

“And it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Eddie was scheduled to be with Connor today?” she mused.

He looked away and a grin spread across his face as he finished packing the last of his camera equipment. “It went so well, Mads,” he said, full of admiration and contentment. “It was…effortless. He’s got this natural thing about him, you know? He’s got this way of just…being. Not every model has that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You really like him, huh?”

He looked up from his bag, catching the teasing glint. He rolled his eyes and chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, please. It’s not like that.”

She smirked, pushing herself off the doorframe and walking further into the room. “No? You sure? ‘Cause it sounds like you have a bit of a blushing problem going on over there.” Her voice was playful, but there was also a note of hesitancy in her tone.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I can appreciate an attractive guy without it meaning anything. I’m not blind.” He grabbed the lens box and placed it back into the cupboard. “And Eddie? Yeah, he’s definitely easy on the eyes but that’s not the point. I’ve worked with a lot of good-looking models before, but he’s something else. He’s inspiring.” 

She gave him a pointed look, her arms uncrossing as she stepped closer to him, her expression shifting into something more serious. “I’m gonna be blunt with you,” she said quietly, but firmly. “It’s alright to have a bit of fun and I know I’ve teased you about it but…just be careful. You know how this goes.”

He met her gaze, his easy smile faltering for a brief second. He knew exactly what she meant. He knew all too well. He had a reputation for getting a little too close to the models he worked with, and it had never ended well. There were stories – rumours, mostly – that he’d gotten too involved with people he shouldn’t have. The whole ‘don’t mix business with pleasure’ thing.

He sighed, moving the last of the light covers into the corner and standing up. “I know, Mads. I know what you’re getting at.” He ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the edge of the desk, his gaze far away. “But listen, this time it’s different. Eddie’s not…you know. Just a model. I wasn’t-“

Maddie interrupted him, crossing her arms again, her eyes narrowed in concern. “I don’t care who he is, Buck. I’ve seen this before. It starts with ‘it’s different’, and then you end up getting hurt. They end up getting hurt. I just don’t want to see you do this again. You’ve been through too much already.”

He stood straighter, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He didn’t want to do this again. He couldn’t do this again.

“I get it,” he said, voice quiet and serious. “I swear it’s not like that this time. Eddie’s got something in him. Something I’m going to create with. Like you said, he’s my muse. I’m not thinking about anything else.” He looked at her, trying to convey that this was just about the work for him. Nothing more.

Maddie didn’t look satisfied. She shook her head slowly. “You’re good at convincing yourself, Buck. But just…be careful, okay? You know how you get. And you know how they get. Models don’t always see the boundaries we set.”

He took a deep breath, feeling the familiar tug of defensiveness in his chest. He didn’t want to talk about this again, not now. Not when he was so certain about what he wanted – what he didn’t want. 

“I’ve learned my lesson, Maddie,” he said firmly. “Trust me. I’m keeping it professional.” He met her eyes with a level gaze. “He’s going to bring so much creativity and potential. I’m not about to mess that up.”

She studied him for a moment longer, and then, with a reluctant nod, she smiled a little. “I hope so, Buck. For your sake.”

He grinned back at her, playful and sincere. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

He was almost sure of it. Almost.

----------

Eddie pushed through the half-cracked door of the bar, the familiar hum of conversation and the clinking of glass instantly washing over him. The place buzzed with the usual Friday night energy: laughter, the faint sound of a jukebox in the corner, and the occasional cheer when someone scored big on the darts board. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on the group he was meeting.

Hen, Chimney, and Buck were already at a booth near the back, the familiar trio looking as comfortable as always, a natural ease between them that he couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous of. They waved him over as he approached, Hen grinning and Chimney giving him a big, exaggerated thumbs-up from across the table.

“Hey, Eddie!” Hen greeted, her voice always warm and inviting, trilling his name as though she was already a couple of drinks in. “Glad you could make it.”

Chimney followed up with a goofy grin, smacking his gum. “What’s up, man? We’ve got the best table in the house for you.”

Buck flashed him his trademark grin and his breath caught in his throat. It was the first time he had seen him since their shoot two days ago. And he was just as beautiful as ever. His curls fell over his forehead again, and his sharp jawline was dusted with the faintest shadow of stubble. His button-up shirt, a rich navy blue, hugged his shoulders and clung to his torso, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal strong, muscular forearms. The top two buttons were undone, leaving a hint of his chest visible beneath the fabric, adding a casual yet undeniable alluring vibe. He looked like the kind of man who didn’t try too hard, yet somehow exuded an effortless confidence that made him impossible to ignore. He wondered if he did it on purpose.

“Glad you could join us,” he said and raised his beer before taking a sip.

He laughed and shook his head to regain focus as he slid into the booth next to Hen. “Thanks for inviting me.” He leaned back and glanced at each of them, his gaze lingering a little longer on Buck. He couldn’t help it, really. “Rumour is you three are inseparable. The ones to be in with.”

Hen rolled her eyes playfully, her lips quirking up. “Honestly, we’re siblings, just not by blood,” she said, glancing at the other two with mock exasperation. “We’ve been through so much together, we practically are family. Buck’s the annoying little brother we never asked for.”

Chimney leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, and looked at Buck. “Yeah, and we’ve been stuck with him ever since he rocked up on our doorstep. Cap took pity on him.”

“Yeah, not like I asked for you, either,” Buck laughed, elbowing Chimney’s ribs. “Maddie’s enough for me, thanks.”

“Maddie?” Eddie questioned, glancing at him.

He hummed. “She’s my older sister. You didn’t know?”

My brother’s gonna love you.

Oh. Maddie. Of course. He could see the resemblance between their smiles now. The way they both dipped their head when they laughed.

He shook his head. “Makes sense though.”

Chimney laughed to himself and then turned his whole body toward him, placing his hand on the table beside his. “Oh, Eddie, have you heard about the lightning incident yet?”

His eyes widened. “Lightning?”

Chimney shot the youngest a teasing smirk. “Remember that one, Buck?”

His face flushed a bit and he groaned, clearly trying to avoid the topic. “Oh, come on, no that one,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual as he reached for his drink. “That was one mistake, alright? I was trying to make the shoot different – it’s called creativity!”

Hen laughed, leaning in as she joined the teasing. “Creativity? More like impulsivity and stupidity.”

“And pure batshit crazy,” Chimney chimed in, patting Buck’s shoulder. “Buckaroo here thought it would be ‘innovative’ to shoot with a homemade lightning machine and it malfunctioned. He shocked himself so hard his hair stood up for hours and he tripped over his stepladders and crashed into everything.”

Buckaroo. Cute. 

He couldn’t help but laugh at the image that formed in his head, Buck’s usually flawless professionalism now reduced to something far more…well, Buck. The photographer looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, I wasn’t the only one who signed off on it,” he said quickly. “Besides, Cap loved it, okay? Even if it didn’t work for everyone.” He shot a look at Chimney, who was doing his best to keep a straight face. 

“I mean, yeah, Bobby loved it,” he added, snickering. “That’s why the whole shoot ended up looking like we were at a rave instead of a photoshoot. I’m surprised you didn’t throw in some strobe lights.”

“I personally think it was more like Frankenstein’s lab,” Hen chortled. “When you think about it, he did randomly change after that.”

Buck sighed dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. “You guys suck.” But Eddie could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and the way his eyes twinkled despite the embarrassment. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

Hen leaned back, still laughing, and gave Buck a sideways glance. “Honestly, though, he’s probably the most creative person I know. He just gets a little carried away sometimes. The lightning was just an experiment. One that, uh, didn’t quite work out, but it was an experiment nonetheless.”

He chuckled, lifting his beer in a mock salute to Buck. “I’ve never had a photoshoot fail that spectacularly,” he said with a grin, then quickly added, “But I respect the ambition.”

Buck shot him a playful glare but leaned forward, taking the comment in stride. “Hey, if you’re not willing to fail big, then you’re not really trying, right?” He gave him a wink, then turned to the others. “But don’t you two act like you didn’t have some questionable shoots of your own. I know about the time Chimney tried to shoot a ‘casual’ look in a hurricane.”  

Chimney groaned, smacking his head against the back of the booth. “Oh, God. Don’t remind me.” He looked at Eddie, feigning embarrassment. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. But, no, I ended up soaked through, and the photos? Absolutely useless. I looked like a drowned rat.”

Hen smirked. “You always look like a drowned rat. You just don’t have the courage to own it.”

They all burst into laughter again; Eddie loved how easy it was to be around them – how it didn’t matter that he had only known them for a week, having also only met Buck once. It was like he had known them for months, and he was grateful Christopher had a sleepover so he could make it tonight. It had been a while since he was able to go out and let loose. 

He leaned back, sipping his beer, watching the playful bickering unfold between them. He’d worked with a lot of different people since starting his modelling career, but he hadn’t met a team quite like this. They genuinely cared for each other, and there was a sense of comfort, of ease, in the way they communicated.

He glanced at Buck again, who was now leaning against the booth, smirking as Chimney and Hen continued to bicker. There was something about the guy that made everyone around him feel so at ease. Buck wasn’t just a photographer – he was part of this family, this dynamic that made everything feel natural and fun. And he wondered if he would be able to reach that level of familiarity with the man. Or with any of them, for that matter.

“You guys are like a comedy trio,” he said, raising his glass to the group. “I’ve never seen so much back-and-forth.”

Hen laughed, clinking her glass against his. “It’s the only way we survive around here. We’d probably drive each other mad without it.”

“True,” Buck added with a wink to her, his voice playful. “A little bit of humour goes a long way when you’re dealing with all the stress that comes with the job. We were all lucky to find 118. Other companies out there are soul suckers.”

He smiled and looked around at them. “Well,” he said, taking a long sip. “I’m glad I met you guys. You make everything a little bit more fun.”

Buck raised his bottle in return. “Same to you, Eddie. I’m looking forward to the next shoot. But for now, let’s just enjoy this.”

“Here, here!” Chimney cheered and stood up. “Next rounds on me. What’s everyone drinking?”

As the night continued and a couple more hours had passed sharing stories and tad bits of information, he had learned quite a bit about the 118 famous trio. Hen had a wife called Karen who was a scientist and a son named Denny. She almost went to medical school but ended up in the industry after she got shot, was interviewed, plastered all over the news and started doing awareness campaigns for gun restrictions. Chimney stumbled into the profession purely by coincidence and originally worked at a karaoke bar. But modelling paid better so he stuck with it. Oh, and he and Maddie were madly in love but too scared to do anything about it. 

And Buck…well Buck was a walking encyclopaedia. His brain was full of facts and he loved learning. He had travelled the world and worked various jobs alongside building his photography portfolio and completing his studies. His career had kicked off young, but he still never liked to settle in one place. Until Maddie ended up in LA and he moved here permanently but still took spontaneous trips.

The conversation had died down a little when their food arrived and Eddie had pulled out his phone for the sixth time. He hadn’t been able to reach the parents looking after Christopher all evening, and now, as he tried to send another text, he was met with the same frustrating “No Service” message. He frowned, trying again, then peered at the phone’s signal bar with a sigh.

“Is everything okay?” Buck asked as he picked up two fries, noticing the change in his expression. His voice was gentle but perceptive.

He sighed again, his thumb hovering over the screen. “Yeah, there’s no service. Texts won’t even go through.”

He sat back in his seat, discarding the last of his cheese sticks, tapping the phone absentmindedly against the edge of the table. It had been a long day, and the worry in his chest was starting to bubble up. What if something happened to Chris? The thought was ridiculous – he was at a friend’s with two adults in the house, he was fine – but that nagging sense of responsibility never really went away.

Buck, ever observant, tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at his distraction. “Who you tryin’ to get a hold of?” he asked casually, soft but a little curious.

He hesitated, glancing at Buck with a furrow in his brow. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – something kind, like genuine concern – and it gave him the impulse to open up just a little bit. He wasn’t sure if it was the easy camaraderie they’d built or the drinks in his system, but he found himself responding. 

“My son,” he said after a moment, his voice steady, but there was a small, soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he said it.

Buck’s expression shifted instantly, surprise widening his eyes. “Woah, you got a kid?” He was leaning forward now, his curiosity piqued. 

He nodded, his chest swelling with affection as he pulled up a photo from his phone. He turned the screen toward Buck, showing him a picture of Christopher in a bright red t-shirt, his big eyes shining with a mischievous gleam, a wide grin on his face as he held up his latest Lego construction. 

“Christopher,” he said proudly. “He’s seven.”

Buck leaned in closer, his fingers brushing against his as he reached to take a look at the photo. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at the small jolt of electricity that shot through him at the contact. He quickly brushed it aside, unwilling to dwell on it, but it lingered at the edge of his thoughts.

Buck’s eyes softened as he studied the photo, his lip curling up into a wide smile. “He’s super adorable. I love kids,” he said, his voice quieter now, more sincere than Eddie had expected. He was staring at the photo as if it had a special kind of magic, his grin never wavering.

He couldn’t help but smile too. “Yeah, I love this one,” he replied, gazing at the picture with a quiet fondness. “I’m all he’s got. His mother’s not in the picture.”

He said it so casually, but there was a subtle weight to the words. It wasn’t something he often shared, but tonight, with Buck, it felt…okay to be open.

The atmosphere at the table had altered slightly, and both Hen and Chimney were watching him now, their attention on him as they waited for him to continue. 

Hen gave him smile. “He’s lucky to have you, Eddie.”

Chimney nodded in agreement, his voice light but sincere. “You’re a good dad, man. I can tell.”

He glanced at both of them, feeling the warmth of their support. It was always nice to know that people saw him as more than just the guy behind the camera lens or the model in the spotlight. There was a lot more to him than that – and he was proud of the father he was. Proud of Christopher. 

He looked back at Buck, catching his gaze once again. This time, he noticed the way the photographer was looking at him – there was a quiet admiration there, something that was more personal than any smile anyone had ever given him.

“Chris is really something,” he began, exuding pride as he spoke. “He’s sharp, you know? Picks things up so fast. The way he talks about his friends at school, or how he already knows how to bargain with me when it comes to bedtimes…he’s like, a little negotiator.”

Buck chuckled softly, his gaze still soft and affectionate. “Sounds like a handful.” 

“Yeah, he is,” he said with a grin. “But I wouldn’t trade him for the world. He is my world.”

As he spoke, Buck’s smile deepened and Hen and Chimney listened intently with less intense smiles of their own. He noticed how Buck’s eyes never left his, even when he turned back to face the others who were now both asking questions about Christopher. He could feel Buck’s gaze on him, steady and connected, a recognition of shared moments that he wasn’t sure how to categorise yet.

Hen leaned in with a teasing grin. “I bet he’s got you wrapped around his finger. Denny’s the same.”

He laughed. “He certainly does, and he knows it. I’d do anything for him.”

Chimney shot a knowing look at Buck, who only grinned wider, his eyes softening as he looked back at Eddie. The exchange was quiet; the moment lingered between them, a little charged, a little intimate, before Eddie broke the silence, looking away and swallowing.

“But yeah,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “I’m just trying to make sure he’s alright. Always trying to be there for him.”

Hen nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds like you’re doing a great job, Eddie.” 

She nudged Chimney, who added his own encouragement. “You can tell how much you care about him.”

Buck stayed quiet, letting the conversation flow around him. He smiled softly, just before the conversation shifted again. But Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling that Buck was still listening, still hearing him in a way that felt different from the rest. Similar to the way Lena heard him when they supported each other after coming home from their tours. Similar to the way he heard Chris when he asked for a little more independence and wanted to start getting dressed on his own. Similar but different. Because Buck wasn’t family. They weren’t trauma-bonded. Buck was just a stranger.

A stranger who heard him.

----------

The studio was a buzz of activity as Eddie stepped inside. A few stylists were adjusting clothes on mannequins, the set pieces were being arranged, and the crew was busy making sure everything was in place. But all of that faded into the background when he spotted Connor.

The photographer was standing near the back, his camera slung over his shoulder, watching the set come together with sharp, focused eyes. He was tall, with dark hair that fell just slightly over his forehead, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. His whole demeanor screamed professional.

Connor looked up as he approached, his eyes briefly scanning him before a small nod acknowledged his arrival. He didn’t smile, but his gaze was calculating, as though evaluating him in an instant. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He was used to photographers greeting models with at least a few words, but with Connor... it was like the silence was part of the process.

“Ready?” Connor asked, his voice low and steady, with a no-nonsense tone. It wasn’t a question so much as an expectation.

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“Good,” Connor said. He didn’t say anything else. He simply turned and walked toward the camera setup.

He followed, trying to keep his mind clear. As they reached the designated spot, Connor gestured for him to stand, adjusting a few of the lights as he did so. The silence hung between them, thick and tangible. He reminded himself of what Hen and Chimney had said—this was just Connor’s style. He had to roll with it.

As the first shot was taken, the flash was too bright, the weight of the camera lens focused on him. His muscles were tense, but he forced himself to relax. The air was thick with concentration, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, he found himself settling into the rhythm. The silence wasn’t oppressive; it was almost comforting. It allowed him to focus on the work, on the clothes, on the look he needed to project.

Connor adjusted a few settings, not offering any feedback, just silently observing. He held his stance, trying to be patient, to embrace the quiet and the challenge. Each click of the camera shutter became a new cue for him to push himself just a little bit further—deeper, stronger, more intense.

And as the session went on, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he liked this. The intensity. The quiet. The feeling that every shot mattered.

By the time the shoot wrapped up, he was feeling something he hadn’t expected: confidence. It wasn’t just about the way he looked in the pictures, but about how he handled it, how he stayed grounded when everything else around him was moving in a whirl of lights and flashes. He was finally getting the hang of it. And he could tell—Connor was starting to like what he saw.

“Not bad,” Connor said, finally looking up from the camera and giving him a nod of approval. “You’ve got potential.”

He smiled, his shoulders finally relaxing. “Thanks.”

Connor nodded and left the room, taking his camera, and he reached into his bag, sliding down the wall until he was sat on the floor. He grabbed his water bottle and brought it out, unscrewing the cap. Buck joined him, leaving his unfinished project from the other side of the room. It had been three weeks since he met the man, and he wondered if he would ever stop feeling static every time he looked at him.

“How’s it going?” he asked, ever cheerful and smiling no matter what time of the day it was. It was sickening yet familiar to him. Calming, almost.

“He’s so…intense,” he complained with a grin, taking a swig. “I almost didn’t believe Chim and Hen when they said he was silent. Quiet, sure. But man that was something else.”

“That’s business, Eds,” Buck chuckled and pulled out his phone to send a quick text message. “You’re going to have to learn to adapt. Not everyone’s gonna treat you as good as me, you know.”

“I can,” he stressed, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach at his new nickname. “I’ve had worse than him, but they’re never satisfied with the results. I never knew what I was doing wrong.”

Buck hummed and scrolled through his Instagram. “You need to channel pictures like these.”

He looked up. Buck twisted his phone so he could see it. It was one of the first pictures his agent had posted when he first started out. He was led on a white sheet scattered with rose petals. His head was turned to the right, looking away from the camera, his jawline fully exposed. Hair messy. Arms beside his head. Slightly parted lips. Sharp collar bones. He was hot, he knew that.

His heart tugged. “I can’t.” He waited for the inevitable.

Buck scrolled through more of his photos. “You don’t mention their name…who took these?”

There it was.

He frowned and looked away. “No one important.”

“I’d love to meet them,” Buck continued, still admiring his pictures. “Their work is incredible. I mean, I can tell this is taken on a phone but even so they have that homebrew aesthetic to them. You look amazing in these.”

His chest tightened and his fingers gripped the bottle tighter. “It was my ex. I don’t speak to them anymore. Can we drop it?”

Before Buck could answer him, his phone rang. Tia Pepa.

“I gotta take this,” he said, pushing himself to his feel.

Buck waved him off. “No problem. Go ahead.” He flashed a quick grin, then turned back to continue working on his project.

He stepped off to the side, holding the phone to his ear. The moment he answered, his posture stiffened at the background noise. “Hola, Tia Pepa,” he said, voice immediately serious. 

The words that came next made his breath catch in his throat.

“Eddie?” her voice was trembling. “It’s Abuela. She fell. She broke her hip. We’re at the hospital now.”

His eyes flickered, panic spreading through him like wildfire. He took a sharp breath, trying to steady himself. “Is she – is she okay? Is she conscious?”

“She’s awake. In with the doctors now,” Pepa reassured him, though the fear in her voice was palpable.

“What about Chris?” he asked, heart thundering.

“He’s okay, just scared. He’s asking for you.”

His heart dropped to his stomach and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He didn’t wait for a response before he ended the call and then froze.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, staring at the phone in his hand, but it felt like a lifetime.

Buck, who had been casually glancing around, finally looked over at him. The tightness in his posture, the rigid way he held himself – it was all too familiar.  

“Is Chris okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, a sharp breath leaving him, his voice rough. “My Abuela’s in the hospital. She fell and Chris is okay…he’s scared.”

Without another word, Buck stepped forward, his hand landing gently on his shoulder. “Come on,” he said, voice firm. “We’re going.”

“He looked at him, shaking his head almost instinctively. “I’ll drive myself,” he started to protest but Buck cut him off.

“No,” he stated flatly, with a no-nonsense tone that he rarely heard from him. “You don’t need to be worrying about driving right now. I’m taking you.”

He hesitated, but the intensity made him back down. There was no arguing with that look. Buck wasn’t going to let him go through this alone.

“Okay,” he finally agreed, just wanting to get there as fast as possible.

They left the 118 in a hurry, Buck driving at a speed that was definitely above the limit, but he barely noticed. His mind was consumed with thoughts of his Abuela, of Chris, and the overwhelming waves of guilt that he wasn’t there when they needed him most.

The drive felt like it took forever. He kept glancing at his phone, willing it to ring or text with an update, but it didn’t. His fingers twitched, wanting to call again, but something in him told him to wait until he could be there in person.

As Buck pulled into the parking lot, his breath was coming in shallow bursts. He was out of the car before it even fully stopped, moving toward the entrance with quick, purposeful steps. Buck followed him, never once letting him out of his sight.

Inside, he rushed to the reception desk, his eyes scanning for any sign of his family. The nurse behind the desk looked up as he approached.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m looking for my Abuela. Isabel Diaz,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s in room 317”, the nurse replied. “Your family is with her.”

He didn’t wait for any more instructions. He moved down the hallways, Buck right behind him, and stopped outside room 317. Through the small window in the door, he could see his Abuela lying in the bed, her face pale and her eyes closed peacefully.

He pushed the door open slowly.

Chris was sitting in the chair beside her, gripping her hand with his small ones. His eyes were wide and red, and when he saw Eddie, the floodgates opened.

“Dad!” he cried, rushing to him.

His heart cracked, and he knelt down, pulling his son into his arms. “I’m here mijo,” he whispered, kissing the top of his son’s head. “I’m here.”

Chris clung to him, his body trembling. “I was so scared, Dad. I didn’t know what to do. But I called 911 like you taught me.”

He pulled back slightly to look at him, brushing his hair out of his face. “It’s okay, Chris. You’re okay. You did everything perfectly, I’m so proud of you.” He smiled gently and turned his attention to his Abuela, who was still asleep.

“Let’s go outside, shall we?” Tia Pepa suggested and he nodded, placing his hand on Christopher’s back as they exited into the waiting room.

As they stepped into the hallway, he felt a quiet weight settle on him. Pepa was standing just a little too still near the nurses’ station, her gaze sharp as it followed his every move. Her face was soft, but there was something in the way her eyes cut through him that made his stomach knot. He knew that look.

He glanced quickly at Buck, who was quietly scanning the hallway, clearly aware of the change in atmosphere but giving him space and trying to stay out of it. His presence was a steady comfort, even if he didn’t let himself lean on it fully.

Pepa finally spoke, her voice low but carrying an edge of concern. “Eddie,” she began, her tone gentle, but unmistakeable. “Can we talk?”

He nodded, tension pulling at his shoulders as Buck moved a little farther away, taking that unspoken cue, giving them the space they needed.

“Can you watch Chris for me?” he asked.

“Of course,” Buck replied with a grin, his voice warm and steady. “What do you say, little man? I love your jumper. Did you know that the longest dinosaur was Argentinosaurus, which measured over 40 metres? That’s as long as four fire engines!” 

“Woah, no way!” Chris gasped. “You know about dinosaurs? What’s your favourite?”

“Thanks, Buck,” he whispered to him. His easy-going presence was exactly what Chris needed right now, and he was so grateful Buck had offered to come along.

As he watched them make their way to the seating area, a quiet sense of relief washed over him. At least Chris would be distracted for a while. His eyes followed his son, who looked up at Buck with curiosity as he started telling him something animatedly about dinosaurs. He could hear the change in Buck’s voice – the way it brightened when he spoke to Chris, the natural ability to bring some semblance of normalcy to the moment.

He turned his attention back to Pepa. She was giving him that concerned, knowing look again.

“You can’t keep putting him with Abuela, Eddie.” Her voice was firm. “She’s too old, and her health isn’t getting any better. You need to figure something out. I’d love to have him, you know that, but I’ll have to be there for her too.”

His chest tightened with a pang of guilt. He expected this.

“I know,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying…I’ve been trying for months to get him the right care. The right support, Tia.” His voice cracked just slightly, the strain of it all finally catching up with him. “It’s just…nothing’s working.”

Pepa sighed and leaned in, her face softening as she reached out and touched his arm. “Eddito, I know you’ve been doing your best, but you can’t do this alone. I’m scared for both of you. You’re carrying so much, and you’re going to burn out.”

His stomach twisted, his eyes darting away from her, staring down the hallway. It wasn’t just about finding the right care for Chris anymore – it was about finding a way to be the father his son needed while also trying to hold everything else together.

“I don’t have a choice,” he muttered. “Chris needs me. He’s…he’s been through so much. I just…I can’t keep failing him.” 

Pepa let out a breath. “I’m not saying you’re failing him, mijo. It’s the exact opposite. You always do what’s best for him.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. She was right, but even asking for help felt like a failure in itself. He already hated having to ask Abuela and Tia Pepa for help. He had tried – tried so damn hard – to make things work, to be both a perfect mother and father to Chris, to give him stability, despite the chaos that surrounded them.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said quietly, his voice more tired than he meant for it to sound.

Just as he spoke, Buck reappeared, stepping back toward them with a bright smile on his face, his eyes alight with a kind of enthusiasm that he didn’t expect to see in the middle of this situation. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice easy, like he’d just been talking to Chris about something fun. “I talked to Bobby. Chris is all cleared to come by the 118 for the rest of the day. There’s not much on today, so he can hang out with us for a bit. We’ll keep him entertained, don’t worry about it.”

He blinked, the surprise flooding through him almost immediately. His heart squeezed in his chest, and a wave of gratitude washed over him so strong he nearly choked on it.

“Are you serious?” he asked, barely whispering, the emotion evident in his eyes. “You really – you really did that?” 

Buck smiled, almost sheepishly. “Yeah, I mean, it seemed like the easiest thing to do. Chris can hang with us, get a break from the hospital, maybe even have some fun. We’ve got plenty of people who would love to meet him.”

His heart fluttered with relief, their weight on his shoulders lightening just a little. “Thank you, Buck,” he said sincerely. “You don’t know how much that means to me. To both of us.”

Buck just nodded and flashed him a grin with a wink. “No need. Chris is my favourite Diaz now. I’ll take any opportunity to hang out with him.”

He chuckled at that, turning to Pepa who had been quietly watching the exchange. She gave him a small nod, her lips pursed but approving.

“Well,” she said after a moment, her voice softening. “It seems you’ve got people who care about you, Eddie. I’m glad you’ve found that.”

He didn’t have an immediate response to that. He just let the words settle into him, knowing deep down that she was right. That the 118 cared about him despite it not even being a month since he started working there. They really were good people.

----------

The house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards under their feet. Eddie leaned against the doorframe of Christopher’s room, arms crossed, a small smile playing on his lips.

At the insistent demands of his son, Buck had just helped Chris with his bedtime routine, reading him a quick story before tucking him in. But now, as he stood there watching, Chris was asking yet another question about dinosaurs, his eyes wide with genuine curiosity. 

“So, Buck,” he said, his little voice breaking the silence. “If a T-Rex and a Spinosaurus fought, who would win?” His little face was so serious like it was the most important question in the world.

Buck, sitting on the edge of his bed, laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Kid, you’re killing me with these questions. I might need to think about that one, and it's getting late, okay? You need to get some sleep.”

Chris’ face scrunched up in disappointment, but he relented, pulling his blankets around him. “Okay…but we’re gonna talk about it tomorrow, right?”

“Definitely tomorrow. You can tell me all about your thoughts on dinosaurs and everything else,” Buck said, giving him a wink. He reached down and gave Chris a quick, playful tickle on the side; he giggled, rolling over with a sleepy sigh.

Eddie chuckled softly from the doorway. Buck’s bond with his son was instantaneous, effortless, and it made his heart lighter than he had realised it had been for a long time. He hadn’t seen Chris so excited to find someone who loved dinosaurs as much as him. 

“You good, mijo? He called.

Chris, now all snuggled up, peered at him with drowsy eyes. “Yeah. Goodnight, Dad,” he mumbled, already half asleep.

"Good night, mijo," he replied. 

Buck leaned over and gave him a gentle pat on the head. “Night, buddy. Sleep well.”

He smiled at the scene, taking a moment before he softly closed the door behind him as he and Buck both stepped out of the room.

The house seemed smaller without Chris’ bright energy filling it, but it was quiet in a comforting way, a kind of peace that only came after a long day. He moved toward the kitchen, the familiar sounds of clinking glass and refrigerator doors opening filling the silence. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Buck, who took it with a grin.

“Thanks,” Buck said, popping the cap off. He settled down on the couch, taking a long sip from the bottle before resting it on the coffee table. He looked around the living room for a moment, his eyes settling on the simple, cosy space overrun with Legos, before turning his attention back to him.

He sat beside him, stretched his legs out, leaning back into the cushions, and exhaled slowly. It was one of those rare moments when everything felt like it was in place, like the world had stopped spinning long enough for him to take a breath.

“You’re really good with him,” he said, letting his head fall to the side to glance at him with a smile. “I think you’re his new favourite person.”

Buck chuckled. “Well, I meant what I said at the hospital. He’s my favourite Diaz. You’ve been replaced.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as Eddie glanced around the room, kicking a pile of Legos further under the coffee table with his foot.

“Thank you for everything,” he said. “For today…at the 118…for everything with Chris. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Buck smiled, leaning back and taking another swig of his beer. “Honestly, Eds, I’m just glad I got to meet him. He’s awesome. He’s a lot of fun to hang out with.” He paused, his expression softening. “And I’m really glad you trusted me to be part of that.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, taking a long drink from his own bottle. “He’s a great kid, you’re right about that.” His gaze drifted over to Buck. The way Buck’s eyes lingered on him made him feel something unfamiliar – something a little nervous – and he quickly looked away, focusing on the bottle in his hand.

When he looked up again, Buck was still staring back at him, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before his heart skipped a beat. He cleared his throat, the sudden tension making him shift uncomfortably.

“I should probably get going,” Buck said, his tone neutral but his eyes a little softer than usual. He pushed himself up from the couch, and he stood too, almost without thinking.

But before Buck could reach the door, he called out to him. He turned, eyes expectant but not quite surprised. His stomach flipped. Something niggled at the edges of his mind – like something was teetering on the edge of this quiet night between them, something unsaid but waiting to be addressed.

Buck raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

He hesitated for a split second, the words not coming easily. He didn’t know why he felt nervous, but here they were, standing in the quiet of his hallway, the space between them somehow bigger than it should be.

“You know,” he started, fumbling a little. “We should probably trade numbers.” 

Buck’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but then his mouth twisted into a teasing grin. “You want my number?”

His face flushed, his heart skipping a beat. “No, I mean – yeah, but –“ he sighed, shoving his hands into his pocket to grip his phone in mild embarrassment. “It’s for Chris. He’s gonna hold you to that dinosaur chat. He’ll be really upset if you don’t call tomorrow.”

Buck chuckled, clearly enjoying his awkwardness. “Oh, so you’re using your son as an excuse to get my number, huh?” He grinned, his eyes dancing with humour. “Smart play, Diaz.”

He joined in, feeling a little more relaxed despite his earlier nerves. “Whatever, man. Just hand me your phone.”

Buck laughed again, but pulled his phone out of his pocket, offering it to him. “Okay, okay. But I’ll just say, you don’t need an excuse to get someone’s number. I’m sure you could just ask.”

He gave him a sidelong glance as he typed in his details. “Would you?”

As he finished typing, he handed Buck’s phone back, their fingers brushing during the brief exchange. The moment stretched, a fraction of a second where everything almost felt charged. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by Buck’s typical grin.

“Give you my number if you asked?” he mused. “Depends if you had Chris with you or not.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

They stood there for a beat, both unsure whether to say more. The silence between them felt comfortable.

Buck finally broke the moment with a dramatic, mock salute. “Well, my least favourite Diaz, I should probably get going. I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

He nodded, a playful smile on his face. “Goodnight, Buck. Thanks again for everything.”

Buck gave him one last, wide grin before turning toward the door. “Catch you later, Eds. Sleep well.”

As Buck stepped out, he remained there for a moment, still holding the beer in his hand, watching the door close behind him. He wasn’t sure exactly what had changed tonight – what had shifted in the quiet hours between the two of them – but he knew one thing for sure. There was a moment here, something that felt like a step forward, even if neither of them had said a word about it.

He let out a breath, finally heading to the couch, and sitting back down. He could admit that he was attracted to Buck when they first met. How couldn’t he be? Look at the man, he was gorgeous. But learning more about him, seeing him interact with everyone at the 118, seeing him with Chris…well this was a little bit more of a problem than he originally thought.

----------

Eddie had just stepped out of the shower, steam filling the bathroom as he grabbed a towel and began drying off. The morning light was just beginning to filter through the blinds, casting soft beams of gold across his bedroom as he pulled on a loose pair of pants and a hoodie. He had just enough time to get everything ready for Chris’ school day, make some breakfast, and maybe sneak in a coffee before the day took over.

As he walked into the kitchen, he reached for his phone, which he had left on charge on the counter. His thumb hovered over the screen as he saw a new message pop up. He didn’t recognise the number at first, but the moment he saw the content, a small smile tugged at his lips. It was from Buck.

Good morning, Diaz boys! Hope you have a great day! Also, Chris – a Spinosaurus would deffo win the fight

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. Buck was always eager to start a conversation, even if it was about something as random as dinosaurs – it was endearing. He could almost picture him smiling when he sent the message, that easy, carefree expression he had come to associate with him. 

Chris plopped onto a chair at the kitchen table, still in his pyjamas, and dug into the bowl of cereal he placed in front of him. 

“Guess what?” he said, leaning on the table with a grin. “Buck says the Spinosaurus would definitely win the fight.”

Chris, who was in the middle of scooping up another spoonful of cereal, paused and narrowed his eyes as if trying to calculate the logistics of the dinosaur battle. He could see the spark of enthusiasm lighting up his face as he set the spoon down with a serious look.

“No way, Dad,” he said, his voice full of the conviction that only a seven-year-old could have. “The T-Rex would totally win. It has the strongest bite. Buck said so himself!”

He laughed, ruffling Chris’ hair as he set about preparing lunch for the day. “Well, I guess we’ll have to tell him that you disagree. You sure you don’t want to change your mind? The Spinosaurus was pretty strong, you know.”

Chris shook his head. “Nope. T-Rex all the way.”

He grinned, sending the text before reaching for a sandwich bag to pack Chris’ lunch. He was so used to their random debates, especially when it came to dinosaurs. Chris loved them ever since he was little, and he had indulged in every single conversation, every “which one’s better?” argument. He was just glad someone else was getting it this time. 

Just as he was adding a juice box to the lunch bag, his phone buzzed again. He picked it up to see a video call request from Buck.

His lips twitched, his heart doing a little flip in his chest. He tapped the screen to accept the call and held the phone in front of him.

“Morning,” he said, half-smiling, trying to hide the way this phone call had already made his day a little brighter.

Buck’s face appeared, his messy hair even more dishevelled than usual, the background of his apartment blurry behind him. He grinned at Eddie, clearly awake and ready to debate.

“Not calling for you,” he replied, waving his hand in the air. “Put the traitor on.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Chris, who was now leaning forward on the table, holding out his hand for his phone, clearly more than ready for the debate. “Oh, I see how it is,” he muttered, feigning offence as he passed Chris his phone.

“How could you?” Buck gasped playfully. 

“The T-Rex would win!” Chris defended. “It has the strongest bite!”

Buck raised his hands, defensively. “Okay, okay, I hear you, but come on! Spinosaurus is like a bigger version of the T-Rex. Those claws – it would’ve torn the T-Rex apart! And don’t even get me started on the fact that it’s way bigger and faster.”

Chris’ face scrunched up in defiance. “Nuh-uh, Buck! The T-Rex can bite through anything!”

His eyes widened in mock horror, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, buddy!” He raised his hands as if preparing for a dramatic reenactment. “Spinosaurus had the size, the agility, and those huge claws. T-Rex might’ve had the strongest bite, but it wouldn’t stand a chance against the Spino’s reach! Have you seen their tiny arms?”

Chris crossed his arms, shaking his head. “No way! The T-Rex was way faster and stronger! Spino was slow and too big.”

He leaned in closer, eyes twinkling with the thrill of the debate. “You make a very compelling argument…but I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on this one.”

Eddie, who had been listening to the playful argument unfold as he potted about the kitchen, couldn’t help but laugh. He finished making Chris’ lunch, adding an extra snack for good measure, all while listening to the conversation shift into another debate about two different dinosaurs. It was surprisingly easy, light-hearted, and warm, and for a moment, he paused to take it all in.

Chris was so happy this morning, his whole face lit up with excitement the minute he heard Buck’s response. And he, well, he was just grateful. Grateful for how Buck was so great with his son, someone who could make him laugh, someone who wasn’t afraid to step into their world and make it a little more fun.

They kept going, both of them getting more animated, each of them digging their heels in over which dinosaur would emerge victorious in the great battle. He shook his head and smiled as he placed the lunchbox on the counter and grabbed the coffee mug he’d managed to make.

“Alright, alright,” he said, turning back to the phone as he stood behind Christopher, and cutting through the argument. “You two are gonna go all day like this, huh?”

“Absolutely,” Buck said, beaming at him through the screen. “We’re just getting started. Our next debate is between a Velociraptor and a Dakotaraptor.”

Chris, already invested in the conversation, jumped in. “A Dakotaraptor would totally lose!”

He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing as he watched them. Warmth enveloped him – something that had been building for weeks now. It was hard to ignore the connection he was starting to feel to his photographer. The way Buck seemed to fit into their lives, effortlessly. The way Buck’s presence brought a little more lightness into everything. 

“Alright, guys,” he said, grinning. “Time for Chris to go get dressed and brush his teeth. You can pick this up again later, okay?”

Chris groaned dramatically but nodded, waving goodbye to Buck. “I’m telling you, Buck, T-Rex wins.”

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy,” Buck laughed. “Have a good day at school!”

Eddie smiled as Chris passed him the phone and passed him to go to his bedroom. He returned his focus to Buck and tilted his head to the side. “Thanks for making his morning,” he said quietly. “You’re really good with him.”

Buck waved it off with a grin, clearly not thinking twice about it. “Hey, no problem. I’m more than happy to debate dinosaurs anytime.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to so thank you. Expect him to constantly bombard you with his little tangents now, though. He really likes you.”

Buck’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Glad to hear it. And hey, it’s a bonus for me, right? I get to speak to my favourite Diaz boy, and I also get to see your pretty face to inspire me for the shoots today. Can’t ask for more than that.”

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the compliment. His heart skipped a beat, but he quickly laughed it off, brushing it aside with a casual, “Yeah, well, I guess if it helps with your photos, huh?”

There was a mischievous glint in Buck’s eyes. “Definitely,” he said, voice low and playful. “So, I’ll see you for our shoot later, yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah, see you later, Buck.”

“Alright,” he said. “Take care, Eddie.”

“Take care,” he repeated, and with a quick wave, Buck ended the call.

He stood there for a moment, his heart still beating a little faster than usual. He shook his head, muttering a quiet laugh as he turned to clear Chris’ bowl. It was just Buck being Buck, right? He wasn’t going to let a casual comment like that throw him off. But, still…he couldn’t help but smile to himself when he thought back to it. 

----------

The rhythmic clank of dumbbells and the hum of treadmills filled the air of the gym, tucked away on the lower level of the sports centre. Eddie wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning against the weight bench as he took a quick breather. The sound of Lena’s steady breathing and the light thud of her feet against the treadmill’s belt kept him grounded, the steady pace almost meditative. 

“Man, I’m gonna need a massage after this,” he chuckled, stretching his arms above his head, trying to work out the tension in his shoulders. His muscles were sore from a long day of fittings and meetings, but he was enjoying the routine, finding some balance in the physical exertion. 

Lena laughed from the treadmill as she jogged with an easy confidence that Eddie envied. She had been on a roll lately, managing her training schedule, her modelling career, and her fight prep all without missing a beat. She was a force of nature, and he admired her resilience. 

“You’re telling me,” she teased, her voice breathless but upbeat. “You’re barely keeping up, Diaz. I thought you were the ‘eight-pack’ of the team.”

He shook his head, a grin pulling at his lips. “You’re the one who’s built like a brick wall. I’m just keeping myself fit.” He playfully flexed, trying to show off his biceps, which were admittedly smaller than Lena’s.

She snorted, her smile infectious. “Well, something’s clearly working.”

“Thanks,” he said, wiping his face with a towel and throwing it back on top of his bag. “Honestly, I’m really liking the 118 team. Everyone’s got such a good vibe. It’s not just about the work; it’s about the energy. I’m excited to be part of it.”

Lena slowed her pace, her feet coming to a stop. She turned slightly toward him, eyes glinting with approval. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “They’re great people. I already feel like I fit in.”

Lena smiled warmly, wiping her forehead. “That’s good to hear. You deserve it, Diaz.”

He shifted the conversation, wanting to check in with his friend. “What about you, though? How’s everything going?”

“Busy, as usual. Got a couple of bookings lined up.” Lena, always one to embrace a challenge, shrugged, but there was a glimmer of pride in her eyes. “One’s a shoot with the new activewear brand, and then I’ve got a pretty exciting gig with another brand coming up next month. They’re paying well, so I’m not complaining.” 

He raised his eyebrows in admiration. “Damn, look at you. You’re killing it. No surprise, though – you’re always busy.”

“Yeah, well, I like it that way.” She smiled, her focus switching as she stepped off the treadmill and grabbed a bottle of water. “My fight’s coming up in a few weeks, as well. It’s my biggest one yet.”

“Still don’t know how you do it,” he mused, letting out a short huff, both impressed and curious. “Modelling, training, and then getting in the ring? You’re like some kind of superwoman.”

She laughed, taking a long drink. “Hardly. But yeah, it’s a lot of work. It’s all about balance, though. I’ve been making it work. Keeps my head loud.”

He nodded in understanding, a comfortable acknowledgement to not press further passing over them. Yeah, he certainly understood that well. Silence was never his strong suit, either. 

“But hey, I’ve got some tickets for you and Christopher,” she called. “I’d love to have you there cheering me on.”

His face softened at the mention of his son. “Of course we’ll be there,” he said and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a comforting squeeze. “Christopher will love it.”

The sound of a distant ringtone broke their conversation, and he glanced down at his phone. His mother’s name flashed on the screen, and he winced. He had been expecting this call, but he wasn’t quite ready for it. 

“Trauma calls,” he said with a laugh, standing up from the bench. “Talk later, Bosko.”

She gave him a mock salute. “Don’t keep me hanging, Diaz.”

He gave her a smile, nodded, and then stepped away to take the call, grabbing his bags on his way. He greeted his mother as he climbed into his car. The cool air flowed in through the cracked window, but it didn’t do much to calm the tightness in his chest. His phone was pressed to his ear, his mother’s voice as familiar as it was fraught with the same old undercurrent of judgement. 

“You still haven’t gotten Christopher into that special school, have you?” Helena Diaz asked, her tone deceptively light, but he could hear the subtle edge beneath it. “You know, Eddie, you really should be getting him more help. He’s a bright boy, but he’s not going to thrive if you don’t get the right accommodations in place.”

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, the familiar knot of frustration forming in his chest. He had heard this before – the same criticism wrapped up in concern for his son. Every conversation with her seemed to circle back to Christopher’s future, and he knew that nothing he did would ever make her satisfied.

“I’m doing the best I can,” he replied, keeping his voice calm. He didn’t want to sound defensive, but it was hard to listen to these conversations without feeling like a failure. “Christopher’s doing great. He’s happy, and he’s making progress. We’re in a good place right now.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and he could practically hear the disapproval building. His mother had always been a perfectionist and someone who wanted to control everything, and in her mind, nothing was ever “good enough”. Especially her son.

“You know, Edmundo,” she began again, her voice taking on a more critical tone. “If you really cared about Christopher’s future, you’d be looking for something more stable. A real job. I mean, modelling? It’s not exactly a long-term career.”

“Dad wanted me in this business,” he clarified, but she cut him off sharply. 

“And what about your parenting? You’re still juggling all this, running around with your little projects, but where’s the real structure? Where’s the stability?”

His hand flexed around the phone, his breath quickening ever so slightly. He couldn’t help it; every time she brought it up, every time she questioned his choices, a part of him wanted to snap. But he didn’t. Not tonight. 

“We’re doing good, Mom,” he said, the words coming out measured, careful. “The modelling’s going great. I’m working with some solid teams, and we’ve got a good thing going. I’ve made sure to keep things in balance, especially with Christopher.”

“Balance?” she snorted, the sound sharp and dismissive. “You think that’s enough for him? You’re working so much. You barely have time to even spend with him. Have you thought about how that affects him? Children need consistency. They need time with their parents.”

He swallowed back the nasty comments about his own upbringing. He hated how hypocritical they were. They didn’t see how hard he worked to keep his career afloat while still making sure Christopher had everything he needed. He sacrificed so many opportunities to be able to spend more time with his son and be present in his life. He would never let work get in the way of that. He would never let Chris grow up the way he did.

“I’m doing everything I can for him,” he said, quieter now, trying to stay calm. “I spend time with him every day. My hours match his school schedule. I’m working hard to make sure he’s taken care of.”

There was a brief silence before his mother spoke again, this time her voice softer, but still critical in its own way. “You always say that, Eddie. But I don’t think you really understand. You think you’re doing everything, but there’s a difference between doing everything you can and doing everything he needs. Are you sure you’re providing him with the right kind of environment?”

His jaw tightened. The same conversation as always, she was no longer trying to hide her criticisms. Even when she made it sound like she was offering advice, there was always the undercurrent of sharp disgust and judgement. The idea that no matter how hard he tried, it was never going to be enough. Was never going to live up to her standards.

“I am providing the right environment,” he spat through his teeth, voice steady but firm. “Christopher has everything he needs. I am showing him exactly what it means to be loved unconditionally by his father and what he can achieve in the world if he puts his mind to it and keeps fighting.”

“Well, you could give him more time. I heard Abuela ended up in hospital while watching him,” his mother countered as if she hadn’t heard him at all. “How are you ever going to manage to help him if you don’t even have a plan for yourself?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, trying to keep his cool. He couldn’t let it get to him. He couldn’t afford to lose his patience now, not when he had a long night ahead of him, not when he was trying so hard to keep his life together.

“Mom,” he said, keeping his voice even. “I have a plan. I’m working on it every day. I’m trying and-“

“What kind of example are you setting for him?” she interrupted, her voice tight. “What kind of father are you trying to be, really?”

The words stung, sharper than usual. He clenched his fist, his fingers digging into his palm. But he didn’t respond immediately. He knew she didn’t mean it like that. She never did, right? She was just worried. That’s all.

But then his mother’s next words landed worse than the bullets he took in Afghanistan. 

“I don’t want Christopher to grow up thinking he’s less than anyone else,” she said, her voice laced with an edge he couldn’t ignore. “And right now, Eddie, I think you’re teaching him that.”

It was like a switch flipped inside him. He froze in place, the phone still digging into his ear, the blood rushing around his head. His heart rate quickened, and his jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt.

“Excuse me?” his voice came out sharp, his patience unravelling faster than he could rein it in. “What did you just say?”

Helena’s voice wavered slightly on the other end as if she hadn’t expected the sudden change in tone. As if she was shocked he had dared to be anything but polite to her. “I didn’t mean-“

“No,” he cut her off, his voice rising despite his best efforts to keep it in check. “No, you didn’t mean it, right? But it’s the same thing every damn time! You always have something to say about how I’m raising Christopher, but you have no idea what I’m doing. You have no fucking idea.”

He could hear her stunned silence, and it only made his anger grow. She always found a way to twist things and always managed to make him feel like he was falling short. He didn’t have to take it anymore.

“You think I’m teaching him that he’s less than anyone else?” he snapped with a scoff. “You have no idea what we’ve been through, what I’ve been through. Chris has never been less than anyone. Not when he was diagnosed, and certainly not now – not ever. I have never thought of him that way, but clearly you have. Every choice I make is for him, so don’t you dare make it sound like I’m failing him.”

His mother tried to speak, but he wasn’t finished. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to hear the same old excuses or explanations.

“No, don’t even try to justify it!” he scrutinised. “I’ve had enough. Enough of you telling me I’m not doing enough, enough of you criticising every damn thing I do. I’m his father. I’m doing the best I can. That’s what matters.”

“Eddito, I didn’t mean-“

“You really need to reevaluate your view on parenting because you and dad were fucking awful,” he continued. “I will never let my son feel the way you made me feel my entire life.”

“Edmundo-“

“No. You don’t get to fucking say anything now.” His hand shook and he hung his head as he pressed it further into his thigh. “You’ve been saying the same damn thing for years, and I’m done. Just…done.”

And with that, he didn’t wait for her to finish speaking. He didn’t care if she had more to say. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his mind was a whirlwind of everything he had ever wanted to scream at her. He just needed to get off the phone, needed to stop hearing her voice, needed to end this now.

Without another word, he slammed the “end call” button, the sharp sound of the disconnect reverberating through the quiet of his car.

He sat there in the silence that followed, staring out at the street ahead. His chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. His heart was still racing. He could feel the heat of his anger still coursing through him, but also…a deep, sinking exhaustion. He hadn’t expected it to feel like this.

His stomach churned, and the guilt began to creep in, like it always did after these conversations. But, this time, he had snapped. And no matter how justified he might’ve felt, part of him would always wonder if there was something he could have said differently, something he could have done to keep the peace.

But as the minutes passed in the stillness of his car, he realised something. He had been patient for far too long, holding back, and biting his tongue. Trying to keep the peace. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t wrong to let it out. To finally stand up for himself. He was fighting for his son; he would never apologise for that.

He took a long, steadying breath, the tension slowly beginning to leave his body. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to repair that rift with his mother, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he had taken a small, much-needed step toward setting some boundaries.

It didn’t feel good. But it also didn’t feel wrong.

And that, he decided, was enough for tonight.

----------

The studio lights were blinding, casting sharp shadows on the floor and bouncing off the polished backdrop. Buck and Eddie were halfway through another photoshoot, though this one felt different – the usual energy between them wasn’t quite there. He had noticed it about ten minutes ago, when Eddie’s usual playful banter had fallen quiet, and his eyes had started wandering. Eddie was still looking sharp in his denim, but his expression was distant, and there was an edge of tension in his posture that he could read even from across the room.

He had to admit, he wasn’t used to seeing Eddie like this. Usually, his focus was razor-sharp. But today…not so much.

He called out to him gently, stepping away from his position and sending him a small smile. “Hey, man, you okay?”

Eddie blinked as if snapped out of a daze. He shifted his stance, adjusting the collar of his jacket. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he replied, though the words didn’t quite match the tension still evident in his shoulders.

He narrowed his eyes. Eddie wasn’t a liar, but he wasn’t exactly a talker when it came to his personal life either. There was always a wall there, one that he hadn’t been able to scale, not completely. But today? That wall seemed a little thinner. 

“You sure? You’ve barely said anything since we started,” he pressed, trying to sound casual.

Eddie sighed, glancing up at him before looking away again, his fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the backdrop. “It’s nothing,” he muttered.

“You’re not fooling me, man. I’m a photographer,” he said with a small smile, crossing his arms. “I know that look. Something’s up.”

He hesitated for a long moment and after a beat he relented. 

“I got a phone call from my Mom,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “It didn’t end well.”

He nodded. He had seen him in a lot of situations, but family? That was a whole other layer to Eddie he rarely talked about. All he really knew about was Christopher, Abuela, and Tia Pepa, and even then, he knew more about Chris than he did Eddie. But he could tell that whatever had happened with his mom wasn’t just a minor disagreement. 

“Can I ask what happened?” he asked, respectful of the sensitive territory. 

Eddie rubbed his hands on his thighs, his eyes focused on the floor as if he were trying to find the right words. “She’s…been on me about Chris again. About not getting him into the right school.” He swallowed hard, the frustration clear in his voice. “She thinks I’m not doing enough. That I’m not trying hard enough for him. And it…it just hit me wrong, you know?”

His frown deepened. He had seen Eddie push himself to the limit for his son. It had to sting for him to hear those kinds of words from his mother, someone who should’ve been supportive, especially when he was doing everything he could.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “I get it. You’re doing everything for Chris. You don’t need anyone telling you otherwise.”

Eddie didn’t respond right away, his gaze still on the floor. “She told me I’m teaching him that he’s less than everybody else.”

“What the fuck?” He shouted, snapping his head toward him incredulously. “She actually said that?”

Eddie nodded. “I kinda lost it with her after that.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said, his gaze softening although the anger still burned in his chest. “You have every right to react like that, Eds. That’s an awful thing to say and not true at all. You'd bend over backwards with metal rods in your spine for that kid.”

Eddie finally looked up at him, a small, strained smile pulling at his lips. “I don’t know, Buck,” he said quietly. “I just don’t know what the next step is. I don’t even know how to get Chris into the right school. He deserves the best, but I can’t figure it out. There’s so much red tape.”

His heart ached for him. He’d never been in Eddie’s shoes, not in the same way, but he could understand the overwhelming weight of trying to make the right decisions for someone you loved. Especially a kid like Chris, who’d already been through so much.

“Eddie,” he said, his voice full of empathy. “You are doing everything you can for Chris, and that’s all anyone could ask of you. Your mom does not get to say things like that to you when she doesn’t see how hard you try and how your entire life revolves around that kid.”

Eddie exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging, as if releasing some of the tension he’d been holding. He stood there for a moment, letting the words sink in. “I just…I feel like I’m failing him, Buck,” he murmured, the vulnerability in his voice raw. “I don’t know how to give him everything he needs, and I don’t know what to do about school. I just…wish I had more answers.”

His expression softened further, his eyes full of compassion. “You’re not failing him, Eddie. Not at all. And not knowing the answer right now? That doesn’t make you a failure either. You’re figuring it out as you go, and you’re doing a damn good job of it.”

Eddie nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “I’m just so…tired, you know?”

“I get it,” he said quietly. “And you don’t have to figure it out alone. You’ve got me. The 118. And you’ve got Chris. You’re not alone in this.”

Eddie took a took breath. It wasn’t a quick fix – there were no easy answers, and he knew that – but just hearing Buck’s support, hearing it out loud for the first time after that phone call, made him feel a little lighter.

“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie said, his voice hoarse. “I really needed to hear that.”

He smiled, his expression warm and reassuring. “Anytime, Eds.”

A long moment passed, and he took a step back, glancing over at the discarded camera sitting stop the tripod and the rest of their props scattered around the room.

“How about we take a break? We could use a coffee or something. There’s this little café a couple of blocks away I wanted to try,” he suggested. "You can tell me more about Chris, if you want?"

“Yeah,” Eddie whispered as a grateful smile crossed his face. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

----------

It started off as a simple gesture, a small kindness that Eddie didn’t expect would make such a big impact. Buck had introduced him to Carla, a nurse with experience navigating the bureaucratic mess that he had been struggling to manage for months in order to get Christopher the help he needed – not just medically, but for his schooling too. She had been a lifeline, helping him navigate the labyrinth of red tape and complicated systems that were standing in the way of Christopher’s future. But what he didn’t realise, as he shook her hand that day, was just how much this moment would shift something inside him. 

Buck hadn’t just introduced Carla to him. He had introduced her to Christopher, a woman who had quickly weaved her way into their lives and made them so much better and easier. She was family now, just as much as Lena was. When he had opened up to Buck over that cup of coffee, been so vulnerable in a way he never had before, the photographer hadn’t flinched or brushed him off. Instead, he had leaned in, genuinely listening, and then acted. He had found someone who could make things happen, who could make it easier for him to fight for his son’s future.

It was more than just helping out with a tough situation – it was the way Buck saw him, not just as a friend or a colleague, but as a father. The way he considered Christopher in it all despite not having any obligation to. The way he had gone out of his way for a child he had only met a handful of times. And when Buck smiled at him afterwards, when he said, “I’m just glad I could help,” he felt the strongest warmth in his chest he wasn’t expecting. 

The thing was, he had always been careful about letting people in. He’d kept his heart closed off for so long, keeping a safe distance between himself and others, especially after what happened with Shannon. But with Buck, it felt different. The more he saw of him – the way he always put others first, his ability to make any situation lighter, even in the darkest moments – the more he found himself drawn to him, in a way he couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t just grateful to Buck anymore. Didn’t just find him insanely attractive; he was starting to feel something deeper, something that tugged at his chest every time their eyes met, or when Buck did something small, but thoughtful, like remembering how Chris liked his food and brought in the extra he had cooked at home for him, or how he always made sure to bring up things Eddie had said weeks ago as if he was paying attention to every little detail.

There was a quiet, unspoken bond developing between them, one that was building slowly but steadily. Buck had helped him in ways he couldn’t quite explain, and that help, that care, was turning into something he hadn’t anticipated – something that went beyond gratitude. 

He tried to brush it off, telling himself it was just appreciation for a good friend who had done a good thing. But the more time he spent with Buck, the more he realised that it wasn’t just that. Buck was becoming something he hadn’t allowed himself to imagine in a long time. He didn’t want to complicate things with his feelings, not with everything else going on, but it was hard to ignore how Buck’s presence was slowly starting to fill the spaces inside him that he hadn’t even realised were empty.

----------

The house was warm and filled with the comforting smells of a home-cooked meal – something Buck had fallen in love with about Bobby and Athena’s house. It had been a while since they had all gathered for dinner, and he was excited to be in the company of the two people who meant the most to him aside from Maddie. 

Bobby was manning the grill in the backyard, and Athena was setting the table in the dining room. The house felt like a sanctuary, a place where he could let down his guard without having to worry about the pressures of his day-to-day.

He was sitting at the kitchen counter, flipping through the last of the shots from his most recent shoot with Eddie, his fingers tapping along to the rhythm of the song playing softly in the background. He had finished uploading the final batch to Bobby’s email and was just adding the finishing touches when Athena walked in, setting the glasses down on the table.

“You’re seriously bringing work to the dinner table, Buckaroo?” Athena asked, glancing over at him, who was still lost in his work. 

“Yeah, just wrapping up,” he said, a satisfied grin pulling at his lips as he hit send on the email. “Finally done with these.”

She came up behind him and peered over his shoulder, her keen eye immediately catching the detail in the shots. She had always been the type to appreciate the little things, and Buck loved that about her. She didn’t just see the surface; she saw the story behind every frame.

“Buck,” she whispered, glancing between him and the laptop. “These are in colour.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Thought I’d try something different.”

She pursed her lips. “You hate working in colour.”

He shrugged, trying to avoid her eyes. “It’s a big launch, have to step out of my comfort zone, right?”

She studied him for a while.

“Well, I have to say,” she began, relenting on her questioning slightly, her voice full of admiration as she skimmed through the photos. “These look amazing, Buck.”

A large smile stretched across his face and he sat a little straighter. “You really think so?”

“Of course,” she replied, patting his cheek softly. “You’ve really outdone yourself. The lighting, the angles, even the colours…you’ve really captured something special here.”

He could feel a blush creeping up his neck. He loved compliments, especially when they came from people like Athena and Bobby. They were his family, and their praise meant more than he ever let on. Although, he was sure they knew just how much their words affected him.

“Well, you know,” he said, puffing his chest a little. “I had some good inspiration.” His eyes flickered toward the garden doors, where Bobby had just stepped inside with a tray of grilled vegetables. “Eddie was a real natural in front of the camera.”

Athena raised an eyebrow, the smallest smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, Eddie, huh?” she said, glancing back at the photos. “You mean the model you stole from Connor?”

He froze mid-sip of his water, his eyes widening, and let out an exasperated groan. “Athena –“ He couldn’t help but laugh, though, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “I didn’t steal him. I just…well, okay, maybe I borrowed him without asking.”

“Oh, really?” She drawled, glancing over at her husband. “So, you didn’t hijack his meeting?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to deflect, but his gaze darted to the photos of Eddie on his laptop – Eddie, looking relaxed, his usual serious demeanour giving way to a natural confidence that made every shot feel fluently cool. “I mean, I didn’t technically steal him. I was just…delaying their meeting. Connor’s still shot him plenty of times.”

Athena’s smile deepened, but before she could say anything more, Bobby, who had been listening from the other room, stepped into the kitchen with a knowing grin.

“Come on, Buck,” he said, shaking his head. “You practically begged me to put you as lead photographer. After I pulled you up on sneaking into my office to switch the schedules.”

He groaned and threw his head back, dramatically over-exaggerating his frustration. “You’re not helping, Bobby!” He shot him a playful glare. “It’s not like that! I just knew Connor wouldn’t do as good of a job as me with him.”

Athena chuckled softly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You should’ve come to us, Buckaroo. You have an eye for these things, we would’ve listened. We just thought you were too busy with your other contracts.”

“Thanks,” he said, letting out a relieved sigh. “But seriously, Eddie’s amazing. He just has that…presence.” His voice softened, a little more genuine now. “I didn’t realise how much he’d just fit until we got started. And now…well, he might be my muse.”

There was a pause, and his cheeks flushed slightly as he realised how that sounded.

He quickly added, “Not like that – well, I mean, not exactly just like that…”

Her smile was motherly, though she gave him a knowing look. “You know, Buck,” she began, a bit more serious now. “We’ve watched you grow over the years. Seen how hard you work and how much you give to the people around you. You’re good at what you do, and I’m really proud of you.”

His heart warmed at the words. He had never been shy about his feelings for Bobby and Athena, and hearing their encouragement – especially from Athena, who always had that little bit of extra insight – felt like he had surpassed any preconceptions Mr and Mrs Buckley had shoved in his head before he was even born. 

“But,” she continued, her tone shifting slightly to one of gentle caution. “I’d just say, be careful, okay? With Eddie. It’s clear how much you care about him. But don’t let your heart lead you into a place you’re not ready for.”

“I won’t hesitate to fire him if he hurts you,” Bobby added sincerely. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He had never really talked about Eddie to Bobby – at least not like this. Sure, there had been the occasional comment or joke with the team at work, but nothing too serious. And now, hearing Athena’s motherly advice, hearing them both concerned for him, he wasn’t sure what to say. Maddie had warned him of the same thing. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it – about how Eddie had let him into his life, how he waited every morning for his message, how comfortable he was around him, how much he valued the connection they had built in almost three months. But it was a line he wasn’t ready to cross. Didn’t want to. 

Eddie was his muse – and nothing more.

“I get it,” he finally said, his voice soft. “Thanks, guys.”

She squeezed his shoulder gently. “Anytime, Buck. You know you can always talk to us about anything.”

The oven timer rang just then, and Bobby grinned as he clapped him on the back. “Dinner’s ready,” he said, gesturing toward the table. “You’ve sent those photos off now, Buck. No more excuses. Come eat!”

He chuckled, grateful for the change of subject, but the conversation lingered in the back of his mind. Eddie was a lot of things to him – a friend, a teammate, someone who had reinvigorated his passion in the most unexpected of ways. But somewhere in the chaos of his busy life, he had just fit. He had found something special in Eddie, and he wanted to keep that for as long as possible.

----------

The café was nice, tucked into the corner of a busy street. The kind of place that felt too small for the crowd it attracted, but still had a warmth to it that made you want to stay. Eddie had arrived early, just before the lunch rush, and found a small table by the window. He couldn’t help but tap his fingers against the cup in front of him, the clinking of ceramic against the table providing a rhythm to his restless thoughts. 

It had been a long time since he and Shannon had spoken – really spoken – face to face. He’d done his best to stay out of her life after everything had fallen apart, focused on raising Christopher and finding stability, but there had been some things left unsaid. 

He had called her. Didn’t have a choice if he wanted Christopher to get into the school he needed. They wanted to meet her, for what reason he didn’t know. But he would do anything for his son. She had agreed, said she’d try to make things work. It wasn’t easy, but he knew it would make a difference for Chris.

The door chimed, and he looked up, his breath catching slightly as Shannon walked in. She hadn’t changed much, her hair a little longer now, her face brighter than the last time he’d seen her. The years had carved some lines in her skin, but her presence still carried that same quiet strength.

She spotted him right away, and she faltered, silently psyching herself up to approach him. She gave him a small wave, almost apologetic, before crossing the room and sitting down across from him. The chair scraped against the floor, the sound suddenly too loud in the bustling café. 

“Hey,” she greeted, her voice a little nervous, a little unsure.

“Hey,” he replied, giving her a polite but tight smile. He set his coffee down and folded his hands in his lap, trying to keep his posture relaxed despite the tension in the air.

She looked down at the table, fidgeting with the napkin in front of her. “So…I spoke with the school,” she began. Her voice was steady, but he could tell there was an underlying hesitation. “They seem really good for Chris. The program they have, especially for kids like him…it’s a good fit. I think he’d thrive there. You made a good choice, Eddie.”

He nodded slowly but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how to respond, not yet. He hadn’t expected the conversation to start this way. Arguments and walking away, maybe. Shannon was sat right in front of him, but it felt hollow, distant. The part of him that spent years carrying this weight, shouldering everything on his own, didn’t know how to let her back in. He had put up walls for a reason, and he wasn’t ready to take them down.

She shifted in her seat, noticing his silence and her shoulders sagged slightly. “I…I really think this is the best option for Chris,” she added, a little more forcefully now, as if trying to convince herself as much as him. “I know things haven’t been easy, but I want to do what’s right for him.”

He felt a pang in his chest, his mind racing. “Yeah,” he said, finally, his voice quiet. “It’s a good school.”

His words were curt, more out of habit than anything else. He didn’t want to say more, not yet. Not when the conversation wasn’t just about the school, but about everything else that had come before – the past that had led to this moment.

She looked at him carefully, her eyes searching for something in his face. There was something else there, something unsaid between them. She hesitated for a long moment before speaking again, her voice softer now. “Eddie…I know this is hard. But I need to tell you something. Something I should’ve said a long time ago.”

He felt his breath catch in his throat. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew that whatever came next wasn’t going to be easy. “What is it?” he asked, his voice guarded.

She looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “I…I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I’m sorry for leaving you. For leaving both of you. I know I should’ve stayed. I should’ve fought harder. But everything…it was too much for me. I didn’t know how to handle it. I wasn’t prepared for how hard it would be. Eddie, I - I wasn’t ready to be a mother or a wife. I wasn’t ready to be any of it.”

His chest tightened as he listened to her words. The apology hit him harder than he expected. He always carried a certain bitterness with him for her leaving. Thought that he was alone in the way he felt, and wouldn’t be able to forgive her. But she felt just like he did…only she chose herself in the way he was never allowed to. She struggled just as much as he did. She was hurting.

“I…I wasn’t ready either,” he whispered, almost to himself, but she heard him. He looked down at his hands, trying to process everything. “I didn’t know what I was doing, either. Hell, I still don’t. I thought I could be everything he needed. But I messed up so many times.”

“But you stayed.” She reached out, her hand hovering near his, unsure if she should touch him. “That’s more than I ever did.”

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t take her hand either. It was a moment between them – something fragile, broken, trying to be mended.

“I regret leaving him every day, Eddie,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion. “I regret not being there for him. For you. I thought running away would fix things, but it didn’t. But I also know it would've been worse if I'd stayed.”

He nodded slowly, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know you regret it. But you left. And you weren’t there when he needed you. I know we both left him and I was a terrible husband to you…” his voice trailed off, the weight of the years, of everything they had been through, settling between them.

She nodded, tears glistening as they gathered in the corner of her eyes, collecting the rubbed-off flecks of eyeliner. “I know. And I’m so sorry, Eddie. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fix it, but I’m ready to be there for him now…if you’ll let me.”

The words hung in the air for a long moment, the silence thick. He processed them carefully, mind drawing blank for any form of response. There was so much hurt, so much history. But, as he truly thought about it, there was also something else – a possibility, a chance for closure, for moving forward, even if it was in small steps. Chris needed his family.

He took a deep breath, finally meeting her gaze. “For Chris.”

She nodded. “For Chris.”

He wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and the tension turned tentative. They’d spoken their truths and admitted the things they had held from each other. Now, it was time for a decision, for clarity – for what came next. 

“So…I think we both know this can’t go back to what it was before,” he said, voice steady but gentle. “I mean, we’re not…we’re not getting back together. That’s not what this is about.”

She nodded again, her hands clasped on the table, eyes downcast for a moment. There was no surprise in her expression, only a quiet understanding. “No, we’re not. I don't want that - I don’t want to go back there either. It’s…we never worked. That wouldn’t change now.” She glanced up, meeting his eyes with a sincerity that felt new. “But I do want to be in Chris’ life. I can’t undo the past, but I want to be there for him, as his mother. I want to be part of his future.”

His heart softened as he listened, though a large part of him still hesitated. It had been so long, and Chris had grown so much without her. He knew this was the right thing. The right thing for their son. But Shannon still had to earn his trust.

“We’ve both learned…a lot. And we both want what’s best for Chris,” he said. “But I can’t just let you back in. I can’t trust you won’t leave him again. He needs people who will stay. Not a promise of having his mom back only to be heartbroken again.”

She swallowed. “I’ll prove myself, I promise. I really want to be back in your lives, Eddie. I’m not going anywhere.”

He eyed her carefully. “Again, this is purely about Chris. Not us trying to figure out a relationship that we’ve already proven doesn’t work.”

She met his gaze again, and there was something in her eyes that told him she understood. “Yeah, I agree. We’re better off as friends. We’re not…we were just kids having fun, you know. We both knew it wasn’t serious, but we got forced into it. That’s not our fault, so don’t blame yourself for that, okay?”

He hummed, taking a sip.

“But as parents?” she added. “We can do this. We can be there for him.”

He nodded, feeling the gnawing doubt along the relief. “We’ll co-parent,” he said, the words feeling solid and final, like the foundation of something they could build on. “No more drama. Just us, doing what we need to do for him. We’ll be his parents, but we’re not going to pretend we can be anything more than that.”

Shannon smiled faintly. “Exactly. We’ll figure this out. Together, for him. And maybe…maybe we can be friends again. Real friends. Without all the baggage from before.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the tension on his shoulders easing just a bit. “I think we can do that. For Chris. And for ourselves, too.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “We can. We can do this.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the calm after the storm, a humming sense that they had made the right choice. It wasn’t going to be easy, but they could handle it. They had to.

----------

Buck had invited him over for a low-key evening on Friday. A break from the hectic schedules of the upcoming review at work. They’d spent the better part of the afternoon watching TV, catching up on work stuff, and talking about their week. Now, after grabbing some takeout, Buck said he had a surprise for him. He’d mentioned the studio he’d been remodelling, but Eddie hadn’t fully realised the extent of it until they walked through the door. 

It was tucked away in the back of Buck’s apartment, a large room with high ceilings, a mix of natural light and soft, artificial lighting, and a few windows that let the outside world filter in. The walls were lined with sleek black shelving that held photography equipment, lighting rigs, and an assortment of props.

But what immediately grabbed his attention were the walls – they were covered in photos. Black and white images. A few close-ups, some wide-angle shots, all impeccably framed. The contrast was stunning, each photograph telling a different story. There were portraits of people, candid moments, quiet landscapes, and more abstract shots that he could only describe as art.

“Wow,” he whispered, stepping closer to examine the photos. “Buck, these are…amazing.”

Buck grinned, preening at the compliment. “Thanks. I’m so happy it’s finally finished,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “They’re all the different things that inspire me.”

He ran his fingers along the edge of one photo, captivated by the way he had captured the light and shadows. The depth in the shots was mesmerising, and he could feel the passion in every image.

“You really capture the emotion in everything,” he mused. “They’re more than just pictures, aren’t they?”

Buck’s grin softened, and he leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he absorbed everything. “Yeah, each picture is a piece of how I see things. What’s important to me. It’s kind of like…putting my heart into everything I do.”

He hummed in agreement, still admiring his work. He could tell he had poured a lot of himself into it. It wasn’t just photography – it was Buck, pieces of him in every shot, every frame. He’d captured so much of what made him tick, and he had never quite realised how much of Buck’s soul was in his art until now.

After a beat, he turned to him, giving him a small smile. “You really are incredible, you know that?”

Buck’s smile was genuine, almost shy. “Thanks, Eddie. You’re pretty incredible too.”

He gazed back at the photos, noticing a gap in the centre below the clock. “So, this is what you’ve been doing all morning?”

He nodded with a chuckle. “Needed a distraction from my deadlines. What about you?”

There was a pause, and then he shifted. He took a deep breath, the weight of his thoughts starting to settle on his shoulders. “I actually met up with Shannon today,” he said, his voice low as if he was testing the waters, unsure of why he was so nervous to tell him.

Buck froze, his eyes widened, clearly taken aback. “Christopher’s mom?”

He nodded, thoughtful but guarded. “Yeah. She wants to be part of his life again.” He paused, his gaze drifting over to the photos again as if searching for something. “She had a lot to say. She regrets leaving, regrets everything. Wants to make things right with Chris.”

Buck swallowed, taking it in. He could feel the tension in the room grow as he realised what this meant. “And…how did it go?” he asked, his voice careful but his concern evident.

He shrugged, expression unreadable, but there was a heaviness. “It went…well, I guess. She seemed sincere.”

“But?”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration creeping into his voice. “I don’t know if I can trust her. She left once already. I’m not sure if I can let her back in so easily.”

Buck took a step forward. “You’re right to be cautious,” he stated. “She left, Eddie. And you’ve been the one holding it together, for both you and Chris. It’s not something you can just forget. It’s not something Chris can forget either.”

“I left him too,” he whispered.

“What?” he asked, taking another step closer to hear him more clearly. 

“When he was younger,” he admitted, tapping his fingers against his jeans. “I left first. Signed up for my second tour in Afghanistan without telling her.”

Buck remained silent, mulling it over but never once thinking any different of him. “You were both kids, Eds. Neither of you were ready. Maybe you both are now?”

He sighed, his eyes flickering to the window as he stared out into the evening. “I want to believe her. I really do. But it’s hard. Chris has been through so much already. And I don’t want to drag him through more pain if she’s just going to leave again.”

Buck leaned in, his voice firmer. “It’s okay to protect Chris from getting hurt again. You’re not the bad guy for being careful. You’re being a parent. And that means making the tough calls, even when you don’t want to.”

He looked over at him, grateful for the reassurance, but also feeling a little guilty. “I just want what’s best for him. I don’t want him to feel abandoned again, you know?”

“I get it,” Buck replied. “But what about your feelings in all this? You and Shannon?”

He shrugged. “We’re not getting back together if that’s what you mean.” A surprised laugh escaped him. “No way. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

He blinked, clearly a little taken aback by the bluntness.  “I – uh, okay? But…why not? I thought you two were good for a while?”

Eddie let out a breath, gesturing to the small sofa beside the door for them to sit on. “We never really worked together. It was fun – at first. But, honestly? It was just that. Fun. Until Shannon got pregnant. Then everything changed.”

He sat beside him, furrowing his brow and trying to piece together what he was saying. “So, you two…it was just a fling?”

His lips quirked into a faint smile, but there was something wistful in his eyes. “I wouldn’t call it a fling. We liked each other. We had a good time, but I think we were both kind of lost. I wasn’t looking for anything long-term, and neither was she. But things just…happened. Chris is the best thing to happen to me, but it didn’t make us right for each other.”

Buck took a moment and nodded. “That sounds…complicated.”

He shrugged. “It was. It still is. But no, we’re not getting back together. We’re just trying to figure out how to co-parent. That’s all. Nothing more.”

A strange sense of relief washed over him, and he wasn’t sure why. His heart rate seemed to slow, and the tightness in his chest loosened a little. But when Eddie looked over at him, curious, he wasn’t sure how to explain it. 

“Alright, I’m glad you’re both on the same page,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes lingering a little long on his face. “I’m happy for you both, figuring things out for Chris, but I don’t want you getting hurt again, you know?”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by the soft, almost protective tone in Buck’s voice. “You don’t want me getting hurt?”

“You and Chris. Either of you.” He fumbled his words and shrugged it off with a self-deprecating laugh. “You both deserve something good.”

He studied him for a second, and Buck’s heart lurched until he smiled gently. “For what it’s worth, I think we’ve got some pretty good things already.”

Buck’s eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. He knew he had perhaps said something a little too close to what he truly felt for him, but it was the truth. And he wouldn’t ever regret telling him how much he had impacted their lives, regardless of whether he was battling with the urge to close the distance between them and press a gentle kiss on those plump lips that had been teasing him for months. 

Instead, he gave him a small, appreciative nod. “Thanks for looking out for us, Buck.”

Buck smiled, his usual goofy grin returning, albeit with sincerity. “What are friends for, right?”

His heart twinged. “Yeah,” he agreed, his smile matching. “What are friends for?”

Buck’s heart thudded a little faster in his chest, but he kept it to himself, brushing it off with a quick laugh and a change of subject. “So, does Chris like Lasagna? I’ve learned this new recipe from Bobby and I’m gonna try it out next weekend.”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, but this time you can cook it at our place if you want. Saturday sound good?”

Buck grinned, trying to push away the flutters in his stomach. Purely platonic. “Yeah. Saturday’s great.”

----------

The studio was quiet – just the sound of soft music playing in the background and the occasional whirr of a camera being adjusted. Buck was leaning against one of the large, metal workbenches, staring at Christopher, who was sitting on the floor, wide-eyed and holding one of his cameras.

“Careful with that one, buddy,” he said gently, his voice low and calm. “The lens is a little delicate on that one.”

Chris nodded seriously, gripping it with both hands like it was a precious artifact. He’d been fascinated by the entire studio ever since they walked in. The long rows of cameras, the piles of lenses and tripods, the softboxes and light stands…it was a lot to take in for a seven-year-old, but Chris was taking it all in with the kind of intensity that made him grin. He hadn’t been able to see the studio the first time he was down, but now Buck had offered to watch him while Eddie and Shannon finalised the paperwork for his new school, he got to spend the whole afternoon there.

“Do you know how this works?” he asked, bending down to sit next to him on the floor. “I mean, besides pointing and shooting?”

Chris’ eyes lit up. “I know you push the button, but…what does that do? How does it even take a picture?”

He chuckled. “I like how you think. Alright, let me show you.”

He took the camera from Chris’ hands, adjusting the lens with practiced ease. He held it up to his eye, framing a shot of the little boy sitting on the floor in front of him. Then he pressed the shutter button with a soft click.

“See, the button is what triggers the camera to take a picture, but what makes it special is the light,” he explained, lowering the camera and turning it so Chris could see the display screen. “It captures light, just like your eyes do. The camera can take millions of tiny pieces of light and turn them into a picture.”

Chris blinked up at him, fascinated. “So…it’s like the camera is seeing things too?”

“Exactly!” He smiled. “But the cool part is, it can see things you might not even notice. Like shadows or bugs flying past the lens. It’s like having a superpower.”

Chris’ face brightened at that. “Woah, like Spider-Man!”

He laughed, ruffling his hair. “Sort of. But instead of webs to capture things, we have cameras.”

The boy’s eyes grew even wider. “Can I take pictures, too?”

“Of course you can,” he replied, reaching to grab another, smaller camera. 

It wasn’t as fancy as the ones on the shelves, but it was good enough to show him the basics. Plus, sometimes even he got confused about the new innovative designs that rearranged the standard functions on some of the newer models. Chris grinned as he accepted it carefully.

“Just like this,” he said, helping him position the camera toward the stool against the white sheet in the corner. “Frame your shot, look through the viewfinder here, and click the button when you’re ready.”

Chris peered through the lens, focusing intently, and he could see his concentration, his small brow furrowed in a serious expression that was way too mature for his age. When he finally clicked the button, he saw the screen flash, and a picture appeared. 

“Woah!” he yelled as he looked at the screen. “Can I take more? Like, things you haven’t taken pictures of yet?”

He felt a surge of warmth in his chest as he watched Christopher, amazed and full of wonder, looking up at him with that spark of curiosity only a child could have. The way Chris’ small hands clutched the camera, like it was something precious, made his heart swell with an unexpected tenderness. Everything around them seemed to fade – the soft hum of the studio, the faint scent of old leather and photo paper. All he could focus on was Chris’ eager expression, and the simple question that followed:

“Can you teach me how to take photos like you?”

It hit him in a way that was foreign to him – like a flood of memories from his own childhood, when he’d first discovered the magic of a camera in his hands. The joy of capturing the world around him, the wonder of seeing life frozen in a single frame. And now, here was Christopher, ready to make his own memories, his own discoveries. It was a feeling he wasn’t prepared for but couldn’t deny.

“Of course, buddy,” he said softly, his voice carrying an unspoken promise.

Because it wasn’t just about the camera or the photos. It was about passing on something – an experience, a connection – that felt like it was meant to be. He would teach Christopher as much or as little as he wanted, as long as he knew that, no matter what, he should follow his passions. Let himself find joy in everything. He would gladly help with that.  

Chris grinned and quickly moved toward the first thing that caught his eye: a stack of old photography books on one of the shelves. He adjusted the camera, holding it up to his face like Buck had shown him. He peered through the viewfinder and leaned forward to get in closer. 

Buck watched him, impressed with how seriously he was taking it. His small hands shook the tiniest bit as he stepped closer, sucked in a breath and held it, aiming the lens towards the spines of the books. 

“Breathe, bud,” he called gently with a small chuckle, stepping up beside him.

Chris’ chest shuddered as he exhaled. “It’s all blurry.”

“Oh, here,” he said, placing his hand over his. “If you press this slightly, it will automatically focus for you. You see that red square?”

“Yeah.”

“That will move around and then turn green,” he explained, and Chris nodded, doing what he said. 

“It did it!” Chris cheered, letting out a small puff of air as he pressed the shutter button. The camera clicked softly, and he pulled it away to study the screen before holding it out to Buck. “Is it good?”

He glanced at the image, a shot of the old, faded books with a rich wooden shelf behind them. The photo wasn’t perfect – there was still a little bit of blur on the edges, and the light wasn’t exactly where it should’ve been, the exposure dismal and unflattering – but it had character. It was actually pretty damn decent for his first try.

“It’s perfect,” he gasped, giving him a thumbs-up. “That looks amazing, Chris!”

Chris beamed, a small giggle slipping past his lips. “What else should I take a picture of?” he asked, already searching the room for his next subject.

Buck lifted his head, scanning the studio. There were a lot of props scattered around – there were stacks of unused photo backdrops, a tripod with a gimbal attached to it, even a half-finished set from a recent shoot – but he knew the perfect subject would be something simple to inspire his imagination.

“How about the light?” he suggested. “You see that?” He pointed to the long shadow cast by the large softbox in the corner, a cool, almost mysterious one that stretched across the floor like a long arm reaching out. “Light and shadow are your best friends when you’re taking pictures. They can make everything look more interesting. Try capturing how the light looks on the floor.”

Chris tilted his head, then crouched down to the floor, staring at the shadows with a thoughtful expression. He positioned the camera, angling it just right to capture the soft stretch across the wooden floor. He clicked the shutter again, then quickly checked the screen.

“I think I got it!” he said excitedly, but with an edge of uncertainty. “Did I?”

He leaned over, looking at the image. It was simple yet striking: he had managed to angle it so the shadow looked like it loomed over the floor and reached for something in the distance, and the soft glow of the light in the corner created a contrast that made it almost come to life.

“That’s beautiful,” he murmured, giving him a gentle smile. “Keep it up, kid, and I might be out of a job soon.”

Chris grinned, a mix of pride and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe how much he was already learning. He stood up again, holding the camera like it was an extension of himself.

“What about this?” he asked, pointing to a small glass vase filled with a few dried flowers sitting on a table nearby from the last shoot with Hen. The light glinted off the glass, casting a gentle reflection onto the table. 

“That’s a great choice,” he encouraged, guiding Chris to the best position for lighting. “Let me show you a few new things.”

He crouched down beside him, carefully guiding his small hands to the camera lens.

“Okay, watch this,” he said with a grin, gently twisting the lens to demonstrate the zoom. “This is how you bring things closer or make them farther away. Just turn it like this.”

Chris nodded as he turned the lens himself, watching the image through the viewfinder shift and change with every twist. “Woah! It’s like magic!” he exclaimed. 

He chuckled. “Yep, it’ll all about perspective. There are different lenses for different amounts of zoom, but this camera has a pretty standard one that’s good for most shots.”

Chris hummed. “What else?”

He leaned over his shoulder, pointing to the camera’s mode dial. “Okay, buddy, here’s something fun. This little dial controls how the camera sees the world. If you want to shoot in black and white, just twist it here.” He flicked the dial and the screen instantly changed, stripping the image of its colour. “Now, everything’s going to be about light and shadow instead of colour. It makes things look more dramatic, like an old movie.”

Chris’ eyes lit up. “That’s so cool! What about this one?” He pointed to another mode on the dial.

“That’s portrait mode,” he explained, switching the camera to it. “It helps you focus on people or objects, and makes the background blur out a little, so the subject really stands out. Like this!” He held his hand up in front of the camera, showing how the background behind him faded softly into a blur while his hand stayed sharp in the frame.

“And this one?”

“That’s sports mode,” he answered, grinning and more than happy to explain. He answered the questions honestly and with as much information you could give a child without going too technical and overwhelming until Chris had asked him about every mode.

Chris’ fingers hovered over the dial, eager to try it out. “Well, I want to get the rainbow on the table,” he said, pointing to the cast reflection. “So, I can use portrait mode to blur out the background and see the light more, right?”

He raised his eyebrows and then grinned, ruffling his hair and letting out an elated huff of laughter. “Exactly. You’re already thinking like a photographer. Give it a shot.”

Without hesitation, Chris began adjusting the camera, switching the dial and altering the lens to find which amount of zoom he wanted to use. This time, he really took his time, positioning himself to get the best angle, making sure the light caught the glass just right and didn’t take the focus away from the reflection too much. Buck watched on with pride as he pressed the shutter button once more, this time with even more care.

As he looked at the result, he saw something else – something more than just a picture. Chris had captured the reflection of the dried flowers on the table, the way the light made the delicate stems almost glow in the soft, early afternoon sun and artificial light. He had positioned it well, not focusing too much on the light but rather angling it slightly away to create a sense of depth to the photo. The shot wasn’t perfect – it had some flaws, but that didn’t matter. The picture had something that couldn’t be taught: a sense of wonder. 

“Wow,” he said, genuinely amazed. “That’s a really beautiful photo, Chris.”

Christopher grinned, excitedly moving to find his next subject. Buck stood quietly at the edge of the studio, his arms crossed loosely, watching him move with growing confidence from one corner of the room to the next. The boy was completely absorbed in the camera, his small fingers adjusting the settings, his brow furrowed in concentration as he snapped shot after shot. The odd shudder of breath as he realised he was holding it and reminded himself to breathe. He crouched low to the ground, tilted the camera higher to get a different angle, and even tried to rearrange things to get a more interesting shot. 

He asked him questions as he worked, his voice full of curiosity as he listened to every piece of information offered and explained to him, his eyes constantly searching for new inspiration and fresh perspectives. 

Buck smiled to himself, unable to stop the warmth spreading through his chest. It was like watching a little version of himself – so eager, so full of wonder, so hungry to learn. It had been a long time since he had felt that kind of excitement, the kind that comes from discovering something new, something that made the world feel bigger than it really was.

As Christopher continued to experiment, asking questions about lighting and angles, Buck found himself lost in the joy of the moment. This – watching someone you care about light up with discovery, helping them shape their own view of the world – it was something he’d never truly experienced before. He’d taught himself photography over the years, but there was a special kind of satisfaction in seeing it through Christopher’s eyes.

He paused, letting his thoughts drift for a moment. He thought about his own childhood, the distance he’d felt from his parents, how their attention had always seemed conditional, fleeting. They’d never taken the time to show him something like this, to guide him through a moment of creation. Or anything really. He’d always been the one left to figure things out on his own.

He couldn’t ever imagine doing that to his child. And now, watching this little boy with that same spark in his eyes, being guided by someone who was encouraging him, he felt something inside him begin to heal. There was something profoundly beautiful about sharing something you loved with someone else, about being part of their journey, no matter how small.

He glanced at Chris, whose face was plastered with excitement as he checked the screen again and shoved it towards him with delighted yells of what he had managed to capture before zipping away for another picture. His lips curved into a smile, a genuine, content smile that seemed to radiate from deep within him. This was what it was like. To have someone look at you like you had the answers, to be the one who could show them new things and watch them grow.

A lightness filled his chest, and with a deep, steadying breath, he let go of the lingering ache, letting the moment wash over him. He didn’t have this when he was a child, but he was able to give it to Christopher – this beautiful, fleeting moment – and that was enough. 

----------

Eddie walked into the photography studio, the familiar hum of the place greeting him as he opened the door. His eyes immediately landed on Christopher, sitting cross-legged on the floor, completely absorbed in the camera. He was flicking through the photos on the screen with a look of pure fascination, his small face painted with delight as he scrolled through the images he’d captured. The room was scattered with props and gear, but it was his energy – his unbridled curiosity – that filled the space.  

“Should’ve known you’d have brought him here,” he chuckled, giving Buck a quick wave as he stepped into the room.

As soon as Chris heard him, his face lit up even brighter. “Dad!” he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and holding the camera out toward him like it was a treasure he couldn’t wait to share. “Look! Look at all the pictures I took!”

He blinked, momentarily taken aback by how many photos there were. His heart swelled with pride as he knelt beside his son, taking the camera and scrolling through the shots. There were pictures of the studio’s props, multiple of the light dancing across the floor, and even a few of some fun toys that they had set up. The majority of the shots were blurry, others accidental captures of his shoes as he moved around the room – but they all had one thing in common: Chris’ clear enthusiasm, and his keen curiosity with not one image being the same. 

“Wow, that’s a lot!” he said, genuinely impressed. “These are really good, Chris.”

His son smiled, taking the camera back. “Buck showed me how to use it! He taught me about the light and the zoom and how to change the settings and –“ He paused, his words tumbling out faster. “He knows everything about cameras, Dad! And dinosaurs and the ocean and I think he knows everything in the world! He’s, like, a genius! I think he could teach anyone how to be a photographer super-fast.”

He glanced up at Buck, who was standing nearby, a slight blush spreading across his cheeks at Chris’ praise. His usual confidence had given way to a warm, sheepish smile, the kind that made his heart skip a beat. Buck was good at so many things, he knew that, but hearing Chris talk about him like that…it sent a rush through his chest as he saw the way he had been with his son – patient, kind, and genuinely invested in helping him. There was something special about it.

Buck, feeling the heat in his face, scratched the back of his neck and shrugged modestly. “He’s a natural,” he said, though there was a hint of pride in his voice that he easily picked up on. “I just showed him a few tricks, but he’s already got the hang of it. I think we’ve got a little photography prodigy on our hands.”

He smiled, a deep sense of gratitude washing over him. The words were simple, but the meaning behind them was profound. Buck hadn’t just spent the afternoon with Christopher teaching him about cameras and lighting – he had truly become invested in making it fun and interesting for him while encouraging him to release his creativity with no restrictions or limitations. And that was something he couldn’t help but feel deeply grateful for.

“We’re really gonna have to find something you’re not good at soon,” he joked, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his son’s head. “You’re so talented, mijo. I’m so proud of you.”

Chris’ chest puffed out a little as he preened at the praise. “Maybe I can be the best photographer ever, just like Buck!”

He chuckled, glancing over at Buck again, meeting his eyes, silently noticing the way the man seemed to retreat in on himself. Buck shifted on his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to act casual.

“Thanks for looking after him today,” he said, his voice soft but sincere. “I really appreciate it.”

Buck gave a small smile, his cheeks tinges with a hint of pink. “It’s no problem. We had fun, didn’t we Chris?”

Chris nodded eagerly. “Yeah! It was awesome! Way more fun than hanging out with my dad.”

He gasped in mock offence, slamming his hand over his chest. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

Chris giggled and shrugged, not even trying to hide his grin. “You’re great, Dad, but Buck – Buck is like a fun machine. He teaches me so many cool things!”

Buck chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “Looks like you got replaced twice as the favourite, huh?” he teased, his voice light with laughter.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright. If that’s how it’s gonna be…” he said dramatically, his hand still on his heart. “I guess I’ll have to accept that I’m the boring old dad now.”

Chris burst into laughter and Buck grinned. “Don’t worry, Eds. I’m sure Chris will still let you hang out with us,” he said with a wink.

“Yeah, but only if you buy us ice cream,” Chris added.

Eddie laughed and ruffled his hair, glancing over at Buck. “I’ll buy you all the ice cream in the world, kid.”

----------

Eddie stood in the middle of the side wing of the TV studio, a mixture of anxiety and frustration written all over his face as Maddie hovered around him, fussing over every little detail. He was dressed in a crisp button-up shirt, daring trousers, and a jacket that felt just a little too tight for comfort. He had no idea how he’d gotten roped into this – he did promotional events, sure, but an interview about the brand was far beyond his knowledge. Maddie had volunteered him for the gig, practically campaigning he would be the perfect candidate, and now he was stuck in front of a mirror with her turning him into a mannequin. 

She adjusted the collar of his shirt with the precision of someone who was very used to making sure things were perfect. He sighed dramatically, but she didn’t even blink, still rearranging his tie with obsessive care. He could feel Buck watching him from the side, barely suppressing his amusement. 

“I don’t think anyone’s going to be focusing on my tie, Maddie,” he muttered, tugging at it again as she tightened it for the fifth time. “Can you calm down on the suffocation just a little bit?”

“Absolutely not,” she replied firmly. “This is about professionalism, Eddie. You’re still selling our brand even if it’s not through a photoshoot. I need my work to look perfect.”

“Right,” he said flatly, catching Buck’s eye. He just grinned at him, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

“Yeah, Eds,” he teased, kicking one leg in front of the other as he leaned casually against the wall. “You might be a natural in front of the camera, but you gotta look the part.”

He pouted, but Buck just laughed, clearly getting a kick out of seeing him squirm.

“Shut up,” he muttered, trying to keep his tone light but failing miserably. “I swear I can’t breathe.”

Maddie didn’t seem to hear his protests, too absorbed in making sure every last detail was in place. She stepped back, looking him over with a critical eye. “Perfect! Just one more…” She pulled out a lint roller and ran it over his pants with the concentration of a surgeon. He fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Okay, okay, I think we’re good now,” she finally said, taking a step back and giving him an approving nod. “You look amazing. You’re going to nail this.”

He took a deep breath, straightening up. “I always look good in your designs.”

Buck, unable to resist, pushed himself off the wall and sidled over, still grinning. “You’re really killing it with this outfit, Eds,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “I mean, if you showed up to a first date like this you’d be on the third by the end of dinner.”

He shot him a glare, his cheeks flushing slightly. He could feel his embarrassment creeping up, and he hated that the man always seemed to have a way of getting under his skin. “Serious, Buck, cut it out.”

But he wasn’t letting up. “I mean, you look like you’re about to walk the runway. I can see it now: ‘Introducing, The Eddie Diaz Collection’.” He spread his arms dramatically, pretending to model his outfit with exaggerated flair.

“Stop,” he muttered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. He tugged at his sleeves, wishing he could disappear into the fabric. “I’m not cut out for this. Why me? I’m just a model, I’ve never even done an interview.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Wait, you’ve never done an interview? How? You’ve been in magazines – you’ve gotta have been interviewed at least once.”

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Bobby said as he walked over to them, finishing adjusting his cufflinks. “You’ll do great. Just follow my lead.”

He looked up at his boss. “You think so?”

Bobby nodded, his smile widening. “I’ll handle the technical questions. I think they’ll mainly be asking you about the outfits, which you have been working with Maddie on anyway. You know your stuff.”

Maddie, standing right beside him with her arms crossed, gave a satisfied nod. “He’s right, Eddie. Just relax and talk about it like we do. People love authenticity. They’re not looking for some stiff, rehearsed script.”

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as the tension eased. “Alright, alright,” he muttered. “I’ve got this.”

Buck finally stopped teasing, his playful smirk softening into something more genuine as he saw him begin to relax. “Hey, I know this is big for you, but seriously? You’re going to crush it. You’ve been doing great so far, it’s just another way to show people what you’ve got.”

He looked at Buck, grateful for the words of encouragement, even though he could tell he was still holding back some of his usual teasing.

“I just-“ he hesitated, taking another glance at the stage not too far away. “I just want to do this right. I want to help launch this brand and make sure people see all the hard work you guys put into it.”

Maddie smiled, placing a hand on his arm. “And you will, Eddie. You’ve got this, okay?”

Buck leaned forward, grinning, his eyes filled with sincere encouragement. “Think of me behind the camera,” he suggested. “You’ve got the look, you’ve got the personality, and you’ve got all of us behind you, Just go in there and be yourself.”

He exhaled, his breath a little steadier now. “Okay, okay. I’ll try. Just – no more jokes, alright?”

Buck raised his hands in mock surrender. “Promise. No more jokes. Until the interview’s over.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Alright,” Bobby said as he spotted someone waving them over. “Let’s get moving, Eddie.”

Maddie gave him one last once-over, brushing a stray wrinkle out of his jacket. “You’re ready,” she said, smiling proudly. “Go show them what you’ve got.”

He nodded, straightening up one final time. He glanced over at Buck, who gave him an exaggerated, two-thumbs-up gesture. 

“You’ve got this, handsome,” he repeated.

He smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

As Bobby led him toward the stage, he threw one last, brief glance behind him. His grin lingered.

“See you on the other side,” Buck called out, giving him a mock salute. 

----------

It was Saturday evening, and Buck found himself in Eddie’s kitchen, apron on and the faint scent of garlic and onions wafting through the air, just as they had planned. The oven was preheating, and a pan sizzing on the stove signalled the start of something he hoped turned out half as good as the one he made at Athena’s. In front of him was his notebook – open to the latest recipe that Bobby had taught him. 

He smiled to himself as he stirred the sauce. He had only recently moved from scrambled eggs to things that required actual finesse, like homemade pasta and marinara sauce. He had certainly come a long way from Bobby patiently showing him how to make eggs, then pancakes, then “not burn the bacon”. Now, here he was, standing in Eddie’s kitchen, surrounded by an array of ingredients and hoping it didn’t turn into a disaster.

“I kind of got carried away with the dough,” he called over his shoulder when he heard footsteps behind him. “Looks like I can’t properly measure pasta even when making it from scratch. Hope you’re hungry.”

Eddie chuckled, wiping his hands on a towel, his eyes scanning the kitchen with mild scepticism. “Looks like a bomb went off in here.”

“Trust the process,” he retorted, waving his flour-coated hand toward him. “I’ll clean it up, promise.”

Eddie hummed, leaning against the corner of the counter that was free of flour. “So, Bobby’s teaching you to cook?”

He grinned as he checked the sheets hanging on the pasta drying rack Bobby had leant him. “Yep. He’s been helping me out ever since I joined the 118. He started me off with breakfast, but I’ve graduated to full-on dinners now.”

“Wow, impressive.” Eddie nodded. “So, he’s turning you into a culinary genius, too?”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he laughed, adjusting the stove. “I still need a lot of work. This lasagna’s my first real test to see if I can handle more complicated meals.”

He grinned and moved closer, eyeing the ingredients. “It smells good, though. Need a hand?”

He looked over at him. “You wanna help?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, resting his hands on the counter. “Yeah, sure, I can help. What do you need me to do?”

His lips curved into a teasing smile. “Well, you can certainly help, but…uh, I’ve heard things about your cooking skills.”

Eddie paused, frowning. “What things?”

“Chris might have warned me when I said I was cooking for you.”

He shifted his weight onto one leg, cocking his hip out and gesturing outwards with his hands. “Oh yeah, what did he say?”

He held up his hands, trying – and failing – to hide his grin. “He told me that you’ve nearly set the kitchen on fire more than once. You know, he said you make toast, but you always end up burning it. And that’s why he always asks for cereal in a morning.”

Eddie huffed in mock indignation, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s exaggerating. It was one time! And it wasn’t that bad! It was just a little crispy. I’m not that bad of a cook.”

He raised an eyebrow and flashed a sly grin.

Eddie’s face flushed slightly, his eyes narrowing as he let out a long breath. “Okay, fine,” he grumbled. “Maybe I’m not…the best cook in the world.”

He held his hands up in surrender, his grin widening. “I’m sure you’re fine, Eds. But I wanted to cook for you both tonight.” He waved dramatically toward the living room. “Why don’t you go help Chris with his Lego while I finish, okay? Keep him entertained. I’ll handle the kitchen.”

Eddie shot him a look. “Oh, I see. I’m supposed to entertain while you’re in here making a mess of the kitchen.”

“No mess, just a little culinary magic happening in here,” he replied, winking as he turned his attention back to the sauce. “Go on, I’ve got this covered.”

Eddie hesitated for a moment, looking at him as if considering whether or not to argue, but ultimately, he caved and walked out of the kitchen, throwing a playful comment over his shoulder. “Careful, you’re getting a bit too domestic there, Buck.”

He laughed, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered as he imagined cooking for the Diaz boys every day, coming home and listening to Chris’ stories about his day at school and smacking Eddie’s hand away from his workspace as he tried to steal a taste. He shook his head as he heard the faint sound of Chris’ laughter from the living room as Eddie likely made some silly dad joke.

He finished assembling the lasagna, carefully layering the sheets, sauce, and cheese. As he slid the dish into the oven and started the cleanup process, he grinned. He wasn’t Bobby when it came to cooking – he wasn’t even close. But he was learning, and he was getting better. Good enough to actually feel confident to cook for other people. 

Just as he leaned back against the counter, admiring his work, the sound of small footsteps pattered into the room. He turned, expecting to see Eddie, but instead, it was Christopher, his curious face peeking around the corner.

“Hey, Buck, what’s in the bag?” he asked, pointing toward the canvas bag he had propped against the wall when he first arrived.

He grinned. “Something amazing I wanted to show you.”

Chris’ eyes widened, practically sparking. “What is it? What is it?”

He held up a finger, signalling for him to wait. “Here’s the deal. I want you to go grab your dinosaur toys from your room. I’ll set this up, and then we’ll make something really cool with them.”

The boy hesitated only for a second before he bolted toward the hallway. “Okay!” he yelled. “I’ll be right back!”

As the door to Christopher’s room slammed against the wall, he set to work. He quickly pulled out the small greenscreen and unfolded it carefully on the dining table. He plugged in the camera and connected it to his laptop, making sure everything was ready; by the time Chris came back, the small setup was complete.

He dashed into the room, his arms full of dinosaurs, stopping in his tracks when he saw the table. “Woah,” he breathed, looking over at him. “That’s like the one at the studio.”

He stepped aside, grinning. “Yeah, and it’s gonna let us make some awesome pictures of your dinosaurs. What do you think?”

Chris glanced over at his dad who had pottered into the room to see what the commotion was about. He looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Can we, Dad?”

“Of course,” Eddie replied with a fond shake of the head. “As long as you clean up before dinner.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He immediately started arranging his dinosaurs on the table, positioning them as Buck had taught him previously to get the perfect shot. Buck helped him snap a few pictures, capturing the toys in various poses – one in mid-roar, another crouched as if ready to attack. Chris giggled and adjusted the settings on the camera under his guidance.

“Okay, got it,” Chris said as he flicked through the images. “What do we do next?”

“Ah, now comes the amazing part,” he said with a grin. “Let me show you how a greenscreen works.”

He opened his laptop and started to explain the process as he uploaded the images. He showed Chris how to import the photos into the editing software, then pulled up a blank canvas. “So, the green is the trick. You can take anything with a green screen, and you can change what’s behind it, like this.”

He clicked a few buttons, and suddenly the background behind the dinosaurs shifted from plain green to a scene of an ancient jungle, complete with ferns and a soft mist hanging in the air. Chris gasped.

“How’d you do that?”

He laughed. “It’s all about the magic of technology. Now, watch this.” He showed Chris how to fine-tune the edges of the dinosaurs and remove any unwanted interference, making them look like they were actually standing in the jungle, instead of on a dining table.

Chris’ mouth dropped open. “That’s so cool.”

“You wanna give it a go?” he offered.

He snapped his head towards him. “Really!?”

He grinned and pulled his dining chair closer, angling the laptop between them. “Of course, here.”

He let Chris take over, allowing him to try editing on his own. He laughed as the boy clicked through several different backgrounds – first a volcano with lava flowing in the distance, then a snowy mountain range, and finally, a vast ocean, where the dinosaurs looked like they were about to wade into the waves. Some of the edits were absolutely wild and unhinged – like a T-Rex surrounded by floating pizzas, or a triceratops sunbathing in a lounge chair. 

“This is so fun!” Chris laughed, clearly enjoying himself. He clicked a button and set a scene where two pterodactyls swarmed the Eifel Tower. “Look, Buck, they’re like giant birds!”

He laughed along with him. “I love it.”

But Chris wasn’t done. He looked at him with excitement. “Can you make it look like I’m being chased by a dinosaur? Or, or…squishing one! Yeah, squishing one too!”

He glanced at his phone, checking the timer and then nodded. “I like the way you think.”

He grabbed his camera and some of the toys as Chris led him to the back garden.

“Dad! We’re going outside!” he yelled, not waiting for a response as he headed through the door.

Buck chuckled, set Chris up by the far end of the garden, and moved to the opposite end, setting down a small dinosaur in the middle of the grass. He smiled as Chris asked him what he was doing and tried to explain perspective and depth to him. Lying on his stomach, he angled the camera just right to make it look like Chris was slightly smaller than the toy. 

“Alright, Chris, look up like you’re scared, like a dinosaur’s coming to get you!”

He nodded enthusiastically and struck a dramatic pose, looking up toward the sky with wide eyes and an open mouth.

He took multiple shots, capturing the moment, and then quickly moved over to show Chris the shot. He was amazed, and even more so when Buck had switched the position of both subjects and told him to lift his foot and look down. The way the perspective worked, Chris looked like he was about to step on the tiny dinosaur.

“That’s awesome!” he giggled. “Can we do more?”

And so they did – each new shot a new adventure. Chris asked for photos where he was towering over a herd of dinosaurs, one where he was squished between two of them, and then a dramatic one where he was smaller than all them, standing in a tiny jungle surrounded by them. With each new request, Buck happily obliged, working the camera seamlessly.

By the time they were done, the garden was littered with dinosaur figures and Buck’s shirt was stained green and muddy. After pulling out the lasagna to cool, he sat beside Christopher at the dining table, grabbing the laptop, and they spent the next ten minutes editing the new photos. Together, they placed Chris in different wild scenes – a dense forest with towering trees, a vast savannah with grazing dinosaurs, and a wild, storm desert with lightning flashing in the background.

Chris leaned over his shoulder, peering at the screen with awe. “Look, Buck! I’m in the jungle, and the Velociraptor is right behind me! It looks so real!”

He grinned at him. “It does, doesn’t it? You’ve got some awesome ideas, bud.”

Chris beamed. “Can I show my dad?”

“Sure thing,” he replied, unplugging the charger. “And then dinner will be ready, yeah?”

The boy nodded at him, already running off to the living room excitedly shouting his dad who had stopped watching over them at some point to grab a shower. As the evening wore on, the kitchen grew quieter, the lasagna finished and ready to be eaten. He moved to clear the table and dish up their meals, calling them both over.

The soft clink of silverware against plates and the hum of quiet conversation filled the Diaz home as he sat at the dining table with them, his hands folded neatly around his fork. The lasagna had turned out so much better than he anticipated, golden and bubbling, the scent of rich cheese and tomato sauce still lingering in the air. Christopher was already digging in with an excited smile, and Eddie had just taken a bite when he paused, eyes widening.

“This is so good, Buck,” Christopher said, his mouth full as he shoved another forkful in. “You’re definitely a better cook than Dad. You need to cook for us everyday!”

Eddie shot him a mock glare, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “He’s not lying, though. This is really good. I’m impressed, I don’t think I’ve had a meal this nice since Tia Pepa’s quesadillas.”

He felt a content proudness flood through him at the compliment, grateful for the approval but also a little flustered by the way Eddie was looking at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his genuine smile lighting up his face. The way Eddie looked so relaxed, so at ease, made his heart race in a way he couldn’t calm down. Eddie wasn’t just handsome – he was beautiful, in the quiet, effortless way he just existed, like he had been created to exist purely in those moments.

He caught himself stealing glances at him throughout the meal as they talked and Chris shared stories from his week at school. He couldn’t help it. Every time Eddie looked at his son, there was this tender, loving look in his eyes, like he saw the universe inside him. Like nothing else mattered as long as they had each other. And Buck thought about how much he wanted to be a part of that world, to be close to Eddie, to make memories with them both.

But he couldn’t let himself want that. He couldn’t let himself fall for Eddie. That was the thing. He had to remind himself of that – over and over again. He was the third wheel in this little family, a friend and nothing more, someone who’d come into their lives by pure chance, who was still trying to find his place in the world. He wasn’t supposed to be the one looking at Eddie like this, not when Eddie was as perfect as he was and the way he laughed and recounted memories that proved he would move mountains for his son.

He shook his head subtly, trying to shake the thoughts out of his head. He glanced back down at his plate, taking another bite to distract himself. It was just a simple dinner – nothing more than that. They were friends, and he was just happy to be part of their little routine. He couldn’t afford to let his feelings get in the way.

“So, Chris,” he said, trying to steer the conversation away from his own racing thoughts. “How do you like your new school?”

Chris launched into an excited recount of his first week, full of energy and enthusiasm. He and Eddie listened attentively, their eyes soft with affection and they leaned back in their chairs and sipped their drinks. It was a simple moment, but it felt like something more – something that made his chest ache with the kind of longing he couldn’t quite articulate.

Eddie laughed at something Chris said, his eyes meeting his for just a moment, and he could feel his heart racing, an unmistakable flutter in his chest. He had to look away quickly, focusing back on Chris as if it would somehow steady him and stop his mind from spinning. Eddie had no idea how much he affected him – and he was determined to keep it that way.

But as he sat there, watching Eddie and Chris banter back and forth, laughing when Eddie recounted the lightning shoot story Chim had told him, that familiar ache persisted. The kind that made him want to reach out and pull his Diaz boys closer, even though he knew that wasn’t possible.

You can’t let yourself fall for him, he reminded himself, but the whisper in his head wasn’t enough to silence the quiet longing in his heart. Fuck, he needed to get this under control.

He forced his mind back to the conversation, laughing along with them, but all the while, his gaze kept drifting back to Eddie.

And if he ended up going home and framing his favourite picture of Chris running from the dinosaurs and hung it next to the one of the glass reflection Chris took in the studio…well, that was his business and nobody else’s.

----------

Eddie stood by the door, arms crossed, his stance tense as he watched the scene unfold before him. He could feel the nerves swirling in his chest, his heart stuttering as he tried to fight off the negative thoughts slipping in. Today wasn’t just any visit – it was the visit. 

The moment where Christopher would see his mom again after everything that had happened. It had been years since she’d been in his life, and he had his reservations. It wasn’t just about his son’s safety or the tension that had existed between him and Shannon over the years. It was about whether Christopher would be okay throughout all of it, whether he’d feel secure and loved and whether this visit could mean something more than just a reunion – it needed to be a fresh start.

He knew this was important for Chris. He’d been talking about seeing his mom again for weeks now, his excitement palpable. He could tell, too – Chris was ready. He wanted this. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that there was a part of him that was just so afraid of what would happen if things didn’t go the way they were supposed to. What if it wasn’t as smooth as Chris hoped? What if things felt awkward, like too much had changed? What if Shannon didn’t know how to step back into this role as a mother – because, honestly, she’d never been able to figure it out in the past?

The doorbell rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced down at Chris, who was standing by his side, practically bouncing on his little feet. His son’s face was illuminated, eyes wide with hope and joy. He felt the tightness in his chest loosen just a little as he saw that, despite all of his doubts, Christopher had never stopped loving his mom.

“Ready, mijo?” he asked, keeping his voice calm and steady.

Chris nodded eagerly, his smile so bright he could read a book past bedtime under his covers without a torch. “I can’t wait to see Mom.”

He smiled, though there was still a knot in his stomach as he stepped aside, letting Chris go first. He could already sense Shannon on the other side of the door – soft, almost tremulous, as if she, too, was nervous about what this moment would bring.

He opened the door.

Shannon was standing there, her eyes immediately searching for Chris, and the instant their gazes met, everything else ceased to exist. Her face softened, her lips trembling as she took a small step toward him. She seemed to hesitate for just a second, as if afraid that Christopher might pull away. But he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t even think about it. His little legs moved quickly as he ran forward, arms outstretched.

“Mom!” he cried, his voice high with excitement, and before Eddie could even blink, he was in Shannon’s arms.

She gasped, her breath catching as she wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him in close. Chris giggled, squirming in her embrace as she kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his hair.

“I’m so so sorry. I missed you so much, my baby,” Shannon whispered, her voice breaking, a few tears escaping down her cheeks as she held him close. “You’re so big now. Look at you – so handsome. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown!”

Chris’ laugh was carefree, wiggling in her hold, but there was no fear, no reluctance. Just joy. He lifted his hands and gently pushed them against her face, like he couldn’t quite believe she was really there, like he had to make sure this wasn’t just a dream.

“Mom, you’re squishing me!” he said through his laughter, his little hands trying to free his face from the gentle ones that kept running through his hair, tracing over his cheeks, his ears.

“I just can’t help it,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re so grown up, my handsome boy.”

Eddie stayed quiet, standing off to the side as to not intrude on the reunion, his arms still crossed, his body still tense. It was a quiet, bittersweet moment – one that didn’t escape him, that he couldn’t ignore. He was grateful for it. So, so grateful to see Chris so happy, so comfortable in his mom’s arms again. But there was still that flicker of worry deep inside of him. He couldn’t shake it. What if this wasn’t enough? What if this didn’t fix things? What if the love was still there, but the history, the hurt, was too much? What if she left Christopher again?

He blinked, a small tear slipping from the corner of his eye as he watched his son, his little face flushed with laughter and love, his hands still in Shannon’s hair.

But he didn’t feel like he needed to cry. Not now. Not yet. He wasn’t the one who needed to be held, or comforted. It wasn’t his moment. Instead, he just stood there, watching, hoping – hoping that everything could be different this time. Hoping that this would be the beginning of something good for Christopher, for Shannon, for them all.

He watched as Shannon pulled back slightly, her hands still gently cupping his son’s face, her eyes filled with tenderness. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve thought about you every single day.”

Chris nodded, his eyes wide and innocent. “I missed you too, Mom,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “Every single day.”

Eddie took a deep breath, averting his gaze as he tried to quell the shivering in his stomach. They were simple words – nothing flashy or extraordinary – but they were painful. They felt monumental, like Chris had just completely opened himself back up to his mother without second guessing the decision or even considering he could get hurt. A child’s innocence. 

“Are you okay, Dad?” Chris asked, turning his head slightly to look at him, his voice soft, but full of care.

He blinked, his gaze snapping back to his son. “Yeah, mijo. I’m okay. Are you okay?”

Chris smiled at him, then looked back at his mother, his grin spreading wider. “I’m really happy.”

Shannon smiled too, looking at Eddie for the first time. Her face was swollen, fresh tear tracks staining her cheeks and trailing her light mascara with them. But there was a softness in her gaze now, something that wasn’t there before, a hint of relief mixed with hope. 

She held Christopher close as he hugged her again, her arms wrapped tightly around him as he nestled into her embrace and started talking about how he wanted to show her his dinosaurs, oblivious to the weight of the moment. Her body trembled slightly, the tears she’d been holding back finally spilling over. She squeezed her son a little tighter, as if afraid to let go as she told him he could show her everything he wanted.

Then, without thinking, her hand reached out toward Eddie. It was a small gesture, almost hesitant, but when her fingers brushed against his, she squeezed his hand gently, her eyes locking with his. Her lips parted, and without a word, she mouthed, “Thank you.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening as he looked at her – the creases in his forehead finally relaxing, his shoulders lowering. There were so many things left unsaid, so much history between them, and so much uncertainty in the future, but in that simple touch, that brief exchange, something passed between them. Gratitude. A silent acknowledgement that, despite everything, they were both trying – trying for Christopher, trying for a future that might be better than the past. 

The words hung between them, unspoken but understood, and he nodded, his heart swelling with a quiet kind of peace. Maybe at some point he could trust Shannon again. Maybe she could prove that she really did want to be a part of Christopher’s life again. But right now, this was enough.

----------

The 118 studio was a mix of quiet hums and sharp flashes as Buck adjusted the camera, fiddling with the settings. He knew the drill by now, knew how to capture Eddie in the best light – quite literally, considering the way the lighting shifted around them. But as Eddie stood in front of the backdrop, it took a while for him to catch his breath and regain his composure. 

He was dressed differently this time, and he had to admit, it threw him off. Normally, he’d expect a solid, professional look – or something a bit more creative that Maddie had concocted – but today, she had decided to try and kill him. Because Eddie was wearing a black, velvet suit jacket over a bare chest, with plain trousers that were perfectly tailored to his figure.

It wasn’t the jacket or the trousers that had his attention, though. It was the fact that he was shirtless, showcasing his very beautiful, mouth-watering abs. That, and the gold chains and necklaces draped across his chest, each one catching the studio lights and glinting in different directions. A few gold rings on his fingers. Several bracelets stacked on his wrists. And, of course, the tattoos that peeked out from the spaces between the jewellery, their inked designs curving across his skin like a story waiting to be told.

He swallowed, forcing his eyes to remain focused on the camera. On the shots he needed.

“Alright, look right here for me,” he instructed, keeping his tone steady as he raised the camera to his eye.

Eddie, however, didn’t need much direction. They worked flawlessly now, always knowing what the other wanted and needed without having to utter a single word. But he still liked to talk during shoots, something to fill the silence and keep his thoughts from racing about the perfection of a man modelling for him. 

He tried to focus on the technical side of things. Angles. Lighting. Composition. It was all second nature to him at this point. But this…this was different. Eddie’s toned muscles rippled with every movement, the way he stood with confidence, even in such an understated look. There was something magnetic about him.

The camera clicked again, but he wasn’t really processing the shots. He was too focused on Eddie. Eddie, in all his raw, unfiltered masculinity, was in front of him, and for once, it was almost impossible to separate the man from the subject. His usual professional instinct seemed to fade away, swallowed by the unexpected display of his muse in such a revealing position. The kind of confidence that could turn heads even when wearing just a pair of trousers and chains.

“Buck, you’re staring,” he teased, his voice cutting through the quiet. 

Eddie shot him a sidelong grin as he leaned back slightly, adjusting the chains around his neck. There was that familiar glint in his eye – the one that made his stomach do a little flip every time Eddie pulled the playful teasing card.

He blinked, immediately turning his attention back to the camera, forcing himself to focus on the lens rather than his sharp jawline or the way the golden necklaces hung loosely. “I’m just…making sure everything looks good,” he said, clearing his throat. “The lighting’s perfect. The outfit is great. You’re good, Eddie.”

“Good, ‘cause Maddie explicitly wants shirtless images as well,” he grumbled. “Feel like she’s pimping me out a little, not gonna lie.”

He swallowed hard. Almost choked as Eddie pulled off the jacket and hung it over a spare tripod in the corner of the room. His eyes wandered, trailing over every inch of skin on display. He had shot countless people over the years, in much more revealing outfits, too, but this…this felt different. Eddie wasn’t just a subject. The way he stood, confident and comfortable like he owned the room, made it impossible for him to remain indifferent. And the fact that he was now shirtless – well, that certainly made it all the more difficult. 

Eddie caught his eyes, giving him a smirk. “You gonna take the pictures or are you just gonna stare all day?”

He snapped back to reality, his thumb nearly slipping on the camera’s shutter button. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face. “I’m just…adjusting the focus,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking about the camera or himself.

Eddie’s smirk only grew wider as he slowly shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders back as though he were showing off for him. The chains around his neck jangled softly, a sound that seemed to echo in the otherwise still room. 

“Mm-hmm. Focus,” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I think you’ve been ‘focused’ on me long enough.”

His eyes darted quickly to the camera’s display, trying to hide his nervous laughter. “Just doing my job.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Your job, huh?” He shifted again, a deliberate movement that made the light play off his muscles, and Buck couldn’t help but capture it. “And I’m just doing mine.” He glanced down at his bare chest, letting his fingers trail lightly over the chains.

His fingers tightened around the camera, but his eyes couldn’t help but wander. Fuck, he looked good. He quickly snapped a few more pictures, trying to keep his movements deliberate, trying to focus on the art of the shot, the way Eddie’s body caught the light, the way his posture made every angle look like it belonged in a museum.

 
“You’re making it pretty difficult to stay professional here,” he muttered, barely registering what he said before his eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, and his eyes snapped to Eddie’s, heart pounding erratically. 

But his best friend simply chuckled, a sound that resonated deep in his chest. “Oh, I’m not doing anything.” He took a step closer to the camera, eyes locking with his through the lens. “It’s all you, Evan Buckley.”

His heart skipped a beat. The intimacy of the moment suffocating him. It wasn’t just the shoot anymore. It wasn’t just the pictures. There was something…different about the way Eddie was looking at him now, a confidence mixed with longing. He knew that look...but he couldn't...

Trying to regain his composure, he cleared his throat again. “Okay, uh, let’s – let’s get a few more shots. You’re doing great.”

Eddie stepped back, but his eyes never left his and he could feel the weight of that gaze like it was pulling him. “You sure? You’re not getting distracted, are you?” he joked, the corners of his lips curling up with a playful challenge.

“Eddie…” he started, but he had to swallow before continuing. He didn’t know where this sudden confidence had come from, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let himself fall again. He couldn’t let him get too close; Eddie would end up hurt; Eddie would probably break his heart. 

Eddie smiled, but it was more genuine. His expression shifted, and he didn’t look as playful as before. Instead, he just looked…comfortable. And maybe even a little vulnerable, which threw him off. “Sorry, I just thought if I got into character it would help with the shots.”

He frowned internally, knowing he had to accept it. They couldn’t pass that line.

“I’m sorry about Maddie,” he commented, gesturing to the outfit. “She should’ve considered-“ 

“Buck,” Eddie said, his voice quieter now, softer. “I’m fine, you know. I don’t mind doing this. Not if it’s you behind the camera.”

He blinked, unsure if he had heard that right. “What?”

Eddie met his gaze directly, his eyes warm but steady. “I feel comfortable with you. That’s why I’m doing this.” He looked down at his chest, adjusting one of the chains. “I’ve already been more vulnerable with you than I’ve ever been with anyone. What’s the difference between standing in front of you shirtless or crying about how I feel like I’m failing my son? It’s all the same, right?”

His mind reeled at the sudden, casual confession. Eddie had just laid something out there so easily, so matter-of-factly, and it hit him hard. There was so much weight to those words – like Eddie trusted him more than anyone. Like this, right here, wasn’t just their job – a photoshoot. It was a moment of connection.

He felt his pulse quicken, his thoughts scrambling. What was he saying? Was this just about the shoot? Or was it something more?

He swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he said, though his voice was higher than intended. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

His expression softened, a smile pulling at his lips again. “Exactly. So don’t worry about me, Buck. You can take all the pictures you want.” He tilted his head slightly. “I’m right here.”

He took a shaky breath, trying to get his bearings back, trying to ignore the way his words settled into his chest. He realised then that Eddie had opened up to him, and he hadn’t offered much in return. He knew about his tours, his parents, and his struggles with Christopher and Shannon…but Eddie didn’t know anything of a similar calibre about him. He didn’t know about the Buckley parents, about the real reason he got into photography, let alone the stuff he kept hidden from everyone. Yet Eddie had let him into his fears. 

He wanted so badly to tell him. But he shook the thoughts out of his head. This was just a photoshoot. He was just doing his job. He had to focus on the art, not what he wanted to focus on. He could do that later. And if Eddie still stayed…well, his boundaries be damned.

“Okay,” he said, his voice returning to its normal rhythm, though it still carried the tension of the conversation they had just shared. “Let’s get a few more shots. You’re doing great.”

Eddie gave him a knowing look, almost like he could read the thoughts running through his head. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked, his voice teasing again, though there was a softness with it.

He swallowed, forcing himself to snap another picture, this time with a little more confidence. “Yeah,” he muttered, adjusting the camera. “I’m fine. Let’s just get these last few shots.”

He didn’t respond right away, posing for him to take another shot, and he noticed Eddie’s gaze linger on him a moment longer, like he was trying to figure something out, too.

It wasn’t until he lowered the camera again that he broke the silence. “You know,” he said fondly. “I trust you, Buck. I’m glad I met you.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. “I’m glad I met you too, Eddie.”

----------

The zoo was bustling with life, the air filled with the sounds of animals calling out, children laughing, and the occasional whistle of a zoo employee directing a crowd. The sun was shining brightly, casting warm rays over the zoo as Christopher dragged Buck and Eddie from one exhibit to the next. He was  bouncing on his heels, eyes wide with excitement as he took in all the sights and sounds around him. He was already trying to figure out where to go next, tugging on Eddie’s hand to direct them, eager to get a closer look.

“Dad! Look! A giraffe! It’s the giraffes!” he squealed, tugging his dad’s sleeve as he pointed head excitedly.

He laughed. “Yeah, I see them. Let’s get a good look.” He reached down to ruffle his hair and then glanced over at Buck, who was snapping a few pictures of Chris as he jumped up and down.

It was a good day, one that he had been looking forward to for a while – a simple day out with his son. And Buck, of course, who Chris had insisted come along and practically demanded he brought his camera. He wasn’t sure which one of them was more excited about visiting the animals and taking pictures – and he smiled at how Buck’s enthusiasm matched his son’s.

Buck had been doing it all day – taking pictures of him and Chris, the animals, and everything in between, always behind the lens. He was a natural at it, capturing candid moments and quirky angles that made everything look exciting and new. But as they moved through the zoo, he couldn’t help but notice something odd. Every time he suggested that Buck join them in a photo, he would find some excuse to avoid it.

“Hey, Chris, come stand here for a second,” Buck called, snapping a few pictures with his camera, his smile wide as he watched Chris rush to the front of the enclosure. 

Chris stood there for a moment, patiently smiling. Buck clicked away, capturing the moments of pure joy – the way Chris’ face lit up as he looked up at the towering giraffes as one stalked closer, the way he tried to stand on his tiptoes to make himself taller. 

Eddie watched the exchange with a fond smile. He would never not be amazed at how natural Buck interacted with Chris, like he’d known him his whole life. He had a way of making everything feel fun, even the smallest moments – whether it was pointing out the giraffes’ long necks or making funny faces behind the camera to get Chris to laugh. It was clear that in the months he had known him, Buck loved Chris, and that Chris adored him just as much in return. Eddie’s chest tightened a little as he watched, appreciating the way he had become such a big part of his son’s life.

“Buck! You should get a picture next to the giraffes, too!” Chris yelled brightly. “You might be as tall as them!”

Buck blinked, looking up from his camera. “Me? Nah, I’m good. It’s all about you today, my little dinosaur. This is your trip,” he replied with a laugh but there was a brief flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

Eddie stepped closer to him, giving him a teasing smile, trying to hide the warmth in his voice as he took in the gorgeous man before him. “Come on, don’t be shy. Get in one. You’re a part of this day too, you know.”

Buck hesitated, immediately looking away. “Oh, uh, no, honestly. I’m good,” he said, his voice light but a little too quick. He raised his camera, his fingers clicking the shutter. “I’m getting the best angle for you two. You guys look great.”

He watched him for a moment, a small frown tugging at his lips. Buck wasn’t shy – he’d never been shy, not with them, not with anyone. He was always the one to encourage others to step in front of the camera, always ready to capture a moment. So, why was he so reluctant now?

“Buck, come on, just one picture?” he insisted, his voice casual but his gaze fixed on him. 

But he shook his head quickly, avoiding his eyes. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m the photographer, aren’t I? This is my natural habitat,” he joked, offering a wide grin that seemed to stretch a little too much, and then turned his attention to his camera again, snapping a few more shots of Chris, who was now holding his arm out, trying to get the giraffes to come closer.

He didn’t push further, though he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off. Buck had been so excited to come along, and it wasn’t like him to shy away from getting involved. It was almost as if he was deliberately avoiding being in the photos. He glanced over at Chris, who was completely engrossed in the giraffes. 

The silence between them grew thick for a moment as he realised what was happening. He knew Buck well enough to recognise it now – he didn’t want to be in front of the camera. He didn’t want to be seen. He wasn’t just being self-deprecating; there was something deeper there. He felt a sudden wave of understanding, but also concern.

Without letting Buck catch his recognition, he nudged Chris. “Hey, mijo,” he said, bending over to get his attention. “How about we head over to the elephants next? I think they’re over in the next exhibit. What do you think?”

He turned from the giraffes, his face lighting up. “Yeah! Elephants! Let’s go!”

“Alright, then, let’s go,” he said with a smile, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and walking toward the next exhibit.

Buck, still behind them, quickly adjusted the settings to snap a couple of pictures of them before he fell into step with them. He fiddled with the camera and pressed random buttons, but Eddie could tell he was looking at them out of the corner of his eye. There was a quiet moment where Buck’s gaze lingered on his face, but he didn’t say anything, just giving him a small, appreciative smile that he hoped conveyed how much he enjoyed him being there.

As they approached the elephants, he could feel Buck retreating into his head, his footsteps quiet, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the moment. He didn’t press him again. He’d let him talk about it, if he wanted to, or not. But he wasn’t going to let him go through the rest of the trip feeling like he was intruding. He couldn’t help but wonder why someone so effortlessly confident, so full of life and laughter, would pull away from something as simple as being in a picture.

“Look, Dad!” Chris pointed at the elephants, his excitement drawing his attention away from Buck’s quiet discomfort. “They’re so big!”

He smiled and nodded, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Yeah, mijo, they sure are. Big and gentle, huh?” He cast a sideways glance at Buck, then gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow. “Just like our Buck here.” 

He looked up from his camera, startled for a brief second, as though he hadn’t quite expected to be included. His wide eyes flicked between him and Chris, a flash of vulnerability crossing his face before his usual, confident smile returned. 

“Big and gentle, huh?” he repeated, his voice thick with mock thoughtfulness as he put a hand to his chin. “Well, I am big, but I’m more of a wild animal, if you ask me.”

Chris giggled, but it was Eddie’s turn to stare at Buck incredulously, replaying the words in his head an unhealthy number of times before he cleared his throat and tried to not think about the insinuations. 

“Yeah, a big pain in my ass,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood while mentally cursing himself for his choice of words. He needed to pull himself together. 

It seemed to work, however, as Buck chuckled and winked at him. “And that’s not even half of it.”

He choked. Fucking hell, Evan Buckley.

He let out a sharp breath and managed to relax at the familiar banter between them. It was small moments like that – small exchanges, the teasing and the laughter – that reminded him of how easy it was to be around Buck, how naturally they fell into this rhythm together.

“I don’t think you’re a pain,” Chris said, his giggling tapering off as he looked back at the elephants. “You’re definitely gentle like an elephant. And elephants never forget just like we can never forget you!”

Eddie heard the breath that Buck took in, the shuddered release as he whispered a soft thank you to Chris before burying his head back in the camera. He let it go for now, still smiling, and they all stood for a while, watching the elephants lumber gracefully around their enclosure. 

As they started walking toward the tiger exhibit, Buck still clicked away, his attention focused on getting the perfect shot, as though this was an important event his career was riding on. He felt that familiar twinge of fondness and admiration as he watched him get excited over the cloud formation or a dropped ice cream. 

Something shifted. Maybe it hadn’t been sudden, maybe it had been an accumulation of small moments and seeing Buck for all that he was. The moments where Buck thought nobody was watching and let his confident façade face as he let his young, innocent curiosity take over. The way he interacted with his son. The deep conversations they had had where he had finally let someone in. The way they worked together and brought out the best in each other.

Maybe it was all of those small moments mixed together. But the way Buck was so intent on taking pictures of everything, capturing the moments instead of living in them gave him a feeling he couldn’t shake. He wanted to experience more with Buck today, something that didn’t involve a lens between them.  

They arrived at the tiger exhibit, and he was already snapping away, his camera clicking rapidly. The tigers were pacing restlessly inside their enclosure, and Chris was glued to the glass, eyes wide as he watched the big cats move with such powerful grace. 

Still feeling the undeniable magnetic pull between them, he moved closer to Buck. He reached out, his hand landing gently on his shoulder before he slid it down to his lower back. Without thinking, he guided him a few steps forward until they were standing side by side, right next to Chris.

“Hey, Buck,” he called softly, his voice casual but intent. “Put the camera down for a second. Live in the moment with us. Just for a minute.”

Buck’s breath caught slightly, his body tensing for a fraction of a second. He pulled back a little, surprised, but he kept his hand on Buck’s back, a gentle, reassuring touch. He leaned down and whispered to Chris, “Can you see them okay?”

Chris nodded as he continued peering through the glass, his finger pointing excitedly toward one of the tigers that had just emerged from behind the trees. “Yeah, look at that one! I think that one’s the leader.”

He grinned and gave his son a quick squeeze before standing up again. He glanced over at Buck, still standing stiff beside him. He could feel the warmth of his skin tingling his fingertips, but he didn’t want to pull away. He selfishly wanted to grip the fabric and pull him to his side or trace patterns into the underside of his wrist. He wanted him so close. But this was the closest he could get.

For a moment, Buck looked at him in silence, his expression softening as their eyes met. Then, unexpectedly, his lips curved into a smile – genuine, warm, the kind that was his favourite.

“Well, the tigers are definitely a lot cooler than the elephants,” he said, his voice back to its usual playful tone. “Did you know tigers are the biggest cats in the world? And they can leap over thirty feet in a single bound! Pretty wild, huh?”

A wide smile broke across his face as his chest warmed at the sight of his Buck – finally letting go, allowing himself to just be there with them. The way his voice brightened as he shared a fun fact with Chris, his natural enthusiasm spilling over. 

Chris’ eyes were glued to him, hanging on his every word. “Woah! That’s like bigger than a car! Do they really jump that far?”

He nodded, excited by Chris’ curiosity. “Yep, just imagine them jumping over an entire car! They’re got some serious power in those legs.”

“Cool!” Chris laughed, clearly fascinated.

He watched them both – Chris laughing with Buck, Buck completely animated, his hand gesturing enthusiastically as he shared more tiger facts with his little prodigy. He felt something settle, like he was watching two pieces of his life fit together in the most perfect way.

He hadn’t pushed Buck too hard, hadn’t tried to make him feel uncomfortable. He had simply guided him toward being present again, and he had responded – slowly, but surely. It was the same way he’d approached their friendship, always carefully taking steps, always respecting boundaries, but also never holding back when it came to showing up for each other.

And he selfishly let himself pull him closer. Fingers gripping the side of his belt, the motion almost instinctual. In that moment, with the sound of Chris’ excited chatter in the background and the warmth of the day surrounding them, a realisation settled in his bones, quiet but undeniable.

The way Buck’s laughter filled the air, the way his smile lit up his entire face – everything about him was magnetic. And Eddie, for the first time, fully acknowledged that the pull in his chest was more than just friendship and admiration. 

Buck was beautiful, inside and out, and he was slowly but surely falling for him.

----------

When Eddie arrived at the school, Shannon was already in the office, waiting. She gave him a brief nod, her expression neutral, but there was something in the way she looked at him – almost grateful that he was allowing her to be a part of this.

The secretary led them into a small conference room, and there, sitting in one of the chairs, was Chris. His eyes were wide, guilt written all over his face, but he didn’t look upset. He was simply…quiet. 

Shannon pulled out the chair next to him, her expression natural as she sat down. “Hey, Christopher,” she said gently, resting a hand on his. “What happened?”

He squirmed in his seat, avoiding their eyes. “I…I didn’t mean to. It was just…it was…”

The teacher in the room, Mrs. Greene, took over. She was a short, middle-aged woman with glasses perched on the end of her nose, giving off the impression of being both stern and caring. 

“Christopher had an incident with another student on the playground today,” she explained. “Apparently, he was teased by another boy, and things got a bit physical.”

Eddie’s heart tightened, but he tried to keep his voice calm as he addressed his son. “Chris, what happened?”

The boy hesitated, his small hands fidgeting in his lap. “He…he called me names. Said I wasn’t smart, and that I couldn’t do anything right. I just got so mad. I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t, so I…I pushed him.”

Shannon exchanged a quick glance with him. His hand found Chris’ shoulder, his voice gently but firm. “Chris, we’ve talked about how to handle situations like this. Violence doesn’t solve anything. You know that, right?”

He nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t want to get in trouble. I just…I just don’t know how to make them stop.”

His heart cracked at the vulnerability in Chris’ voice. He kneeled down to be at eye level with him. “Mijo, I know it’s hard. I know it’s frustrating when people are mean, but pushing someone isn’t the answer.”

Shannon’s voice was calm and reassuring, her hand gently squeezing Chris’. “We’re not angry with you, love. We know you’re trying to figure things out. You’re growing, and sometimes it’s hard to know how to handle things when you’re upset. But what matters is that you learn from this. You can’t solve problems with your fists. And you’ll always have us to help.”

Chris looked at them both, his small face etched with worry. He nodded slowly, but Eddie could see that the guilt was still heavy in his eyes.

Mrs. Greene cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “I’ve spoken with the other students involved, and we’ve decided that both boys will be required to apologise. We’ll also have a conversation about kindness and appropriate behaviour for both of them.”

Eddie stood up with a snort, twisting to face the teacher with a grimace. He opened his mouth to retort with a snarky comment, but Shannon placed a gentle hand on his arm and cut in.

“Absolutely,” she agreed, ushering Chris to his feet. “Thank you very much. We’ll make sure to have that conversation with Chris at home.”

As she pushed Eddie and Chris out of the office, she turned back around and flashed the teacher a polite smile.

“But just to let you know, our son will not be apologising.”

“Pardon?” Mrs. Greene said, raising her eyebrows. "It will be required-"

“Okay, sure, let’s have my son apologise to the kid who’s been calling him names and pushing him around,” she snapped with the perfect mix of sarcasm and strained politeness. “That’ll really teach him that bullies don’t get consequences, right?”

Eddie smirked as he pressed a finger to his lips just outside the door to stop Chris from giggling along with him. 

“I – uh,” the teacher stuttered, glancing away from her. “I will make sure that the other pupil receives a justified punishment for his behaviour, and we will monitor the situation.”

“Thank you, it’s nice to know you are actually aware of how to do your job,” Shannon replied with a smile and then left the room, letting the door close behind her. 

The school parking lot was unusually quiet as they made their way back to the car. Chris was biting his bottom lip, a wide grin plastered across his face as he looked up at his mom.

“That was amazing, Mom!” Chris exclaimed, his voice full of admiration. “You really told Mrs. Greene off!”

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, unlocking the car door. “Oh, please. I was just correcting her mistake. I’m not going to let her blame Chris for getting bullied.”

Chris hopped into the backseat, still grinning.

Eddie snorted, turning to face her with an impressed look. “You handled it a lot better than I would’ve.”

She raised an eyebrow as she ran a hand through Chris’ hair. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Chris. Fighting is still not okay.”

He looked up at her and she grinned.

“But I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself.”

Eddie slid into the driver’s seat, turning around to smile back at him. “Me too, mijo. Never apologise for that.”

----------

The movie had long since faded into the background, the hum of the television just a distant sound, but neither of them paid much attention to it. They were stretched out on the sofa in Eddie’s living room, both of them comfortably settled in their usual spots, the comfort that had been built slowly, over time, one evening at a time.

Buck was slouched against the cushions, his body angled toward the back of the couch. His long legs were spread out, and his hand – almost absentmindedly – was resting on Eddie’s leg, his fingers gently stroking the fabric of his sweatpants. It was a simple touch, casual, but it had become a routine, something natural between them now.

Eddie, on the other hand, was facing sideways on the couch, his feet tucked under Buck’s thigh. He had his knees bent slightly, his body angled in a way that left him just a few inches away from Buck’s, and yet they were still in their own space. Comfortable, like this.

They both stared at each other for a long time, the silence stretching between them, until Eddie finally broke it.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked quietly, his voice soft but curious. He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes flickering over to meet Buck’s.

Buck’s gaze stayed locked on him for a moment longer, his fingers still tracing slow, idle patterns on his leg. He was lost in the quiet intensity of the moment, his heart beating a little faster as they sat in the undisturbed tranquillity of the home.  

“You,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His voice was soft and sincere, but not without a hint of shyness.

Eddie blinked at him, his face flushing instantly. “Me?” he repeated, his voice unsure, though there was a small laugh caught in the back of his throat as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had just said. “Why?”

He smiled, the corners of his lips curling up with a tenderness that made his chest ache in the best way. He shifted slightly, propping his arm against the back of the couch, his fingers brushing his leg again in a small, almost absent motion as he leaned further into the cushion.

“Yeah, you,” he said again. “It’s like you were genuinely made for this campaign.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and sincere. Eddie’s face heated even more, and he quickly looked away, not sure how to handle the sudden flood of butterflies filling his chest. He adjusted a little, still trying to play it off with humour, but his voice came out softer than he intended.

“You say that to all your models,” he muttered, embarrassed, though there was a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He pulled his knees a little closer to his chest, but even that seemed to be a subtle attempt to stay closer to Buck, to keep the space between them small, even though he felt a little shy under his gaze.

He just shook his head, his hand moving up a little higher on his leg, the pads of his fingers brushing against the warm skin just above his knee. It wasn’t a flirtation – despite how much he desperately wanted it to be. It was just the simple comfort of touch, of being closer, of allowing their connection to manifest in small, unspoken ways.

“You don’t get it, do you?” his voice softened, his words sincere, a little teasing but still edged with something more. “You are a beautiful soul, Eddie. You always have been.”

He didn’t answer immediately. He swallowed, his chest tightening at Buck’s honesty. He wasn’t used to hearing compliments like that – not from anyone, certainly not from someone as in tune with the world's allure as Buck. His words were always so open, so unguarded, and there was something in the way he said it that made him feel as though he was the only other person in Buck’s world at that moment.

He fell quiet, but not because he was lost in the movie. In fact, his gaze wasn’t on the TV at all. It was on Buck – the way the light from the screen caught in his hair, the soft curve of his cheek, the way he seemed completely unaware of how effortlessly he could captivate him with something as simple as being in the same room. His heart skipped every time he realised how much he wanted this – how much he wanted him. He had finally let himself get comfortable enough to feel it and accept it.

He was staring at him, the words building in his chest, but the timing had never seemed right. But tonight, the atmosphere felt different. The quiet, the warmth, the fact that they were both here, together, despite having spent all day together at the 118 collaborating with Hen and Chimney, instead of going home alone.

Buck’s eyes bore into his as he watched his reaction closely. His chest felt tight but in the best way. He was nervous, but it wasn’t a bad kind of nervous. He could do this. He could say it.

Finally, he glanced back, his face still flushed. His voice was quieter, more hesitant, as he said. “You’re beautiful too, Buck. You…you know that, right?” It barely rose above the hum of the movie, but the sincerity behind them was unmistakable. He meant it. He meant every word.

Buck’s fingers froze for a moment as he blinked, caught off guard. He turned his head slightly, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and tenderness, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “What?” he said, breathless.

He felt the flush in his face grow stronger. He hadn’t expected him to react like that, but the softness in his expression, the way he seemed to be in disbelief, as though he had never been called that before – it made his heart swell in a warming yet painful way.

“You heard me,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful. You don’t see it, but you are.”

There was a long pause. Buck swallowed, looking down at his lap, as if unsure how to respond. His fingers finally moved again, the lightest touch against his leg, like a subconscious reassurance that he was real.

“I-“ he started, but then his words faltered, and he exhaled through his nose, as though he was still processing the compliment.

He opened his mouth to say more, to tell him what had been swirling in his chest for months now, what he had been too afraid to acknowledge out loud. He was ready to take the leap, to see if there was something more between them. He wanted to ask if this – this thing they had – was one-sided. Whether they could have something more than just friendship. But before the words could leave his lips, Buck spoke first.

“I used to see it,” he whispered, his voice a little distant, like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to share this part of himself or not. “When I was with my ex.”

It wasn’t the direction he expected their conversation to go, but something in the tone of Buck’s voice made him hold his breath. He shifted, his feet pressing further under his thigh. It was a quiet gesture, one that said, I’m here, without needing to speak. He didn’t interrupt. He knew this wasn’t something he shared often. So, he just listened.

“She was great,” Buck continued, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him, as though searching for the right way to put it into words. “Her name was Abby. She was…fun, you know? Easy to be around. We clicked. We’d talk about anything and everything. I thought we were really good together.”

Buck’s hand had stilled now, resting on his leg, but his fingers were curled slightly, as if he was trying to keep himself composed. 

“But then,” he said, his voice softer now, tinged with an old hurt. “She told me she was going to travel. She wanted to go on some trip, something she’d been planning for a while. And I –“ He paused, blinking like he was trying to hold back something, but he didn’t stop. “I was okay with it. I mean, I understood. Her mom had just died, she had her own life, her own plans. I was proud of her for choosing herself for once.” He shook his head, his jaw tightening slightly. “And then she just…disappeared.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He could feel the tension in his words, the ache of something unresolved. The story wasn’t finished yet, and he could tell Buck wasn’t sure if he was ready to say the rest of it.

“She went away, right?” he said, his voice rough. “And at first, everything was fine. She called sometimes. Sent me texts when she could. A couple of weeks turned into a couple of months. Then, one day, she just stopped. No explanation. No warning. No messages. She just – stopped answering. No word, no goodbye.”

He felt a pang of empathy in his chest, the kind that made him want to pull him into a hug, to fix whatever had been broken in him. But he stayed where he was, his feet firmly under his thigh, a quiet reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I thought maybe she was just busy, you know?” Buck admitted, almost in a whisper. “But the longer it went on, the more I realised she was just…gone. She didn’t even tell me why. I never heard from her again.”

His heart ached for him, a sharp, painful twist in his chest. He could feel the weight of his words, the loneliness that came with being left behind, the uncertainty of not knowing what had happened or why it had ended.

Buck was quiet for a long moment, his fingers lightly grazing the edge of his knee. He didn’t seem to want to say anything more, but he knew that silence wasn’t just a pause – it was the kind that carried a thousand unspoken emotions that they both had to process.

Eventually, he broke the quiet. His voice was low but steady. “I’m sorry, Buck,” he said softly, the words as much as an apology for what had happened as they were an acknowledgement of what he was carrying. “That wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t have just left you like that.”

He nodded once, the motion almost imperceptible. “It was a long time ago,” he said, the edge of something bitter in his voice. “But it still messes with me sometimes, you know? Knowing I’m the kind of guy people leave behind.”

His chest tightened. Without thinking, he rested his hand atop Buck’s, intertwining their fingers and holding him steady, the gesture subtle but deliberate, a wordless promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“You’re not that guy, Buck,” he said quietly, his voice full of conviction. “You’re not the kind of guy people leave behind. Anyone who does is stupid not to realise what they have right in front of them.”

Buck’s gaze flickered toward his. 

“I’m here, Evan,” he finalised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And this time, when Buck smiled, it was softer, a little more relieved, as if he believed it.

----------

The office was a mess of scattered papers, empty coffee cups, and half-eaten takeout containers. A soft hum filled the air as Buck, Eddie, and Maddie sat around her cluttered desk, brainstorming ideas for the next phase of their most successful campaign yet. Maddie leaned forward, her face illuminated by the soft glow of her computer screen, furiously typing out ideas as Buck and Eddie bounced suggestions off one another.

Eddie, still nursing his second cup of coffee, leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. “It feels like we’ve barely started and we’re already talking about wrapping it up.”

Buck, his long legs stretched out in front of him, snorted in agreement. “Yeah, it’s been crazy. One minute we’re arguing about taglines, and the next…boom – we’ve hit our goals. That’s how you know we’ve got a great team, right?”

“We’ve still got three months left,” Maddie chuckled. “We’re just planning ahead.”

He hummed, glancing between the siblings. “This really is a great team though.”

Maddie grinned, glancing over at him as she flicked through a pile of papers on her desk. “Oh, I know. It’s because you’re my favourite model.” She smiled mischievously. “You seriously make everything look good, Eddie. And you let me dress you in whatever I want without complaining. You’re perfect.”

“That’s what I keep telling him!” Buck added, waving his hands as though trying to convince him their words were true. “Everyone’s loved his pictures – we’ve sold loads since he became the face.”

He shook his head fondly with a chuckle. “Well, thank you, both. I do have my moments, don’t I?” He took a playful sip of his coffee, then shot a look at Maddie, his tone teasing. “But don’t let Chimney hear that. He might get jealous.”

Her face turned a bright shade of pink at his words. Her eyes darted down to the papers in front of her, trying to hide the blush that had crept up her neck and cheeks. His smile widened as he noticed her reaction, and he glanced over at Buck, whose face had lit up in that familiar, knowing way and met his gaze.

Buck raised his eyebrows, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So, Mads. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Chimney lately, huh?”

Her eyes flicked up from the papers, but her expression remained neutral. “He’s been helping me with a few details for some pieces, yeah. So?”

Eddie, catching on, leaned in with a gentle smile. “Yeah, we noticed. He’s been talking about you nonstop on shoots.”

She froze for a split second, but then quickly returned her gaze to her laptop, pretending to focus on the schedule. “He’s a good friend. We work well together.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. Just working.” He leaned back, crossing his arms and glancing over at him with an encouraging grin. “You know, I’ve seen that look before. The way you look at him when he talks. And it’s not just about the campaign.”

Her fingers paused mid-click, but she quickly shook it off and dismissed them with a wave. “You two are ridiculous. It’s professional. Purely professional.”

He grinned, trying to suppress a chuckle. “Is it, though? Because I’m not sure you know what ‘professional’ looks like when you’re making him laugh like that in the break room.”

She flushed, but still stood her ground. “I – we – just get along. He’s fun to work with.” 

Buck smirked. “I bet when you’re checking him out every time you dress him. Professional my ass.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly refusing to let them get under her skin. “If I have a thing for Chimney, it’s none of your business.”

He and Buck shared another look, the kind that said we got her.  

Feeling a little victorious, he tilted his head to the side, tapping his fingers on his knee as he spoke. “What’s stopping you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to complicate things, especially with work.”

Buck studied her carefully, rocking his foot as he draped it over his knee. “You know, if you’re waiting for a sign, you’ve had about a thousand of them already.” He gave a soft, teasing smile. “He’s been practically walking around with a giant ‘I’m into you’ sign over his head.”

Maddie’s laugh was light, a little embarrassed, but there was a warmth in it too. She seemed more at ease now that the confession was out in the open. “I know. I just don’t want to mess it up. We’ve worked together for so long, and now –“ she paused, glancing between them as if searching for answers. “I don’t know how to cross that line.”

He nodded, leaning forward slightly, his voice softer now. “Look, Maddie, take it from me. Don’t let fear hold you back from something that could be…really great.”

She looked at him for along moment, the sincerity in his eyes giving her the confidence she needed. “Thanks, Eddie. That actually helps more than you know.”

There was a long pause, and for a brief moment, he let his thoughts drift – just enough for him to glance at Buck. He caught his eyes, but this time, something was different. Instead of the easy camaraderie that usually passed between them, there was a flicker of something more in his gaze. A vulnerability, a hesitation. It wasn’t new, but it felt more obvious now, as if Buck was struggling with something he didn’t want to acknowledge. And then it was gone – replaced with that well-practiced confident mask.

His stomach twisted slightly. He forced himself to focus on Maddie, but his mind couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Buck was pulling away from him, just like he always did when things got too close. And right now, watching Maddie wrestle with her own feelings for Chimney, he couldn’t help but feel like he was unfairly projecting his own emotions onto her situation. 

“So,” he said. “What’s the next step?”

She hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the coffee cup in front of her. “I don’t know. I’m just…trying to figure it out. Maybe I’ll just wait until it feels right.”

Buck, ever the one to push things along, grinned. “You could always just ask him. You know, cut the tension out altogether. It’s pretty clear that he’s into you.”  

He felt a pang of something – jealousy, maybe, or frustration – as he turned his attention back to Buck. Was that really how it worked? Was it that simple? And why did it feel like something was standing between them, a wall that was slowly, but steadily, growing taller? 

As the silence stretched between them, his mind wandered back to those moments with Buck. They way he pulled back when things got too close, when his hand lingered too long, or when their gazes locked for a second more than could be brushed off as friendly. The way Buck always joked, always deflected, but never fully let himself be seen.

He swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts away. This wasn’t about him. It was about Maddie and Chimney. He could figure out whatever this was with Buck later. Maybe he could ask Maddie about it later when they were alone. But, right now, it could wait.

----------

Two weeks later, the sun was setting over the city, painting the sky in soft oranges and pinks. The rooftop of the 118, typically a place for quick moments of solitude or the occasional breath of fresh air between shoots, now felt like a quiet haven. Eddie sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back against the brick wall, his hands resting on the concrete beneath him. The cool evening air was starting to settle in, a stark contrast to the warm, muggy day they’d had.

Maddie settled beside him. She didn’t ask any questions despite him messaging her saying he wanted to talk with her. She just took a seat, folding her legs under her. The silence was comfortable at first, but it was clear that whatever this was needed to be spoken about.

She glanced over at him, studying his expression for a moment before speaking. “You alright, Eddie?”

He huffed, pushing himself up into a more upright position. He wiped a hand over his face, trying to shake off the fatigue. “Yeah, just…thinking.”

Maddie didn’t prod. She knew that when he was ready to talk, he would. And when it came to him, sometimes it took a little longer to work through things. He wasn’t exactly good at explaining his emotions or thoughts. And she wasn’t going to push. Not yet.

Finally, after a long pause, he spoke again. “It’s about Buck.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. She wasn’t sure where this was going, but she braced herself for what was coming next. She could tell it was something that he had been turning over in his mind for a while. “What about him?”

He shrugged, eyes flicking over to her as if trying to measure how much he should say. “I don’t know…it’s just…sometimes, he’s so close, you know? He lets me in. I can see him. But then it’s like…like he suddenly realises he’s got too close, and he pulls away again. The walls go back up, and I’m shut out again.”

She didn’t respond right away. She wasn’t entirely surprised but hearing that someone had taken enough time to truly observe and get to know her brother enough the recognise the small things he had mastered the art of masking made her heart tighten. She’d known about Buck’s tendency to build walls, but it wasn’t easy for anyone to break them down. Least of all for Buck himself. 

He rubbed his hands together, the frustration building again. “I don’t know what to do. I can see he’s hurting but he won’t let me help him. I try – I just be there for him because sometimes that’s all we need. But…there’s something else, Maddie. And I’m worried about him.”

She stayed quiet, watching him carefully. She could feel the weight of his words – the raw concern he had for her brother, the frustration of feeling like he was being kept at arm’s length, despite all the history they shared. Eddie was someone who always wanted to protect those he loved, and Buck – despite his constant energy and charisma – was the one person he couldn’t seem to fully get close to.

“Eddie,” she said softly. “I know you want to help him. But he will open up to you when he’s ready. Not when anyone else is ready for him to, and certainly not on anyone else’s timeline.”

He sighed, shaking his head gently. “No, I know that. I wasn’t asking you what’s going on. I just wanted to let you know. Maybe you could help him when I can’t. I don’t know. I just don’t want him to think he has to deal with this alone.”

Her smile grew fond as she kept a steady gaze on him. She could see his internal battle, the one where he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how to break down the wall Buck had put up around himself. 

“Buck trusts you,” she stated quietly but firmly. “I know it doesn’t always feel like that. I know it’s frustrating as hell. But he’s not pushing you away because he doesn’t care. He’s doing it because it’s easier for him to keep people at arm’s length. It’s safer that way. It’s been his defence mechanism for so long, and it’s hard to let go of it.”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. “I just don’t want him to hurt alone, you know?”

She squeezed his arm. “He won’t. Not if you’re there.”

He huffed, his breath a little shaky as he kept his eyes trained on the sky. “I just hope he knows that I’m here. I don’t want to lose him.” He glanced at her, wringing his fingers together, before he dropped his gaze to the floor, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I care about him so much, Maddie.”

She gave him a small, knowing smile. “Thank you. For looking out for him and caring about him. He’s lucky to have you.”

He grinned, allowing his shoulders to relax as he shook his head softly. “I’m the lucky one. He’s a really great person. I’m not letting him go.”

“He won’t go,” she reassured as they both sat with their backs against the wall and watched a flock of birds fly overhead, letting the last of the day fade away. “He doesn’t leave. Not for real. He might push you away, but he’s not going anywhere.”

His phone chimed softly, and he pulled it out of his pocket. His eyes widened slightly as he glanced up at Maddie and back to the message.

“Buck wants me to come over,” he whispered. 

She smiled. “You don’t have to fix it, Eddie.” Her voice was gentle but insistent. “Just keep being patient with him. And love him anyway.”

He pushed himself to his feet, holding his hand out to help her up, returning the smile. “I’ll always love him, Maddie. No matter what.”

----------

Buck sat on his couch, his hands fidgeting with the corners of a well-worn photo album. The edges of it were frayed, the cover cracked and split, and the binding was slowly coming apart. But for all its ragged appearance, the album held memories – ones that he hadn’t shared with anyone. Ever.

Eddie sat beside him, the dim lighting of his apartment casting a warm glow over his features. He had been quiet for the past few minutes, watching him with that steady, patient gaze. The kind of gaze that made his nervousness feel almost…silly. But it was still there, sitting like a rock in his stomach. He had something to say. Something he wasn’t sure how to say.

Eddie didn’t push him. He just waited, sitting with an openness that made him feel like he could say anything. The comfort of his presence was undeniable, but the weight of the moment wasn’t lost on him. This was him baring his soul wide open – just like Eddie had to him during the nights spent talking about his PTSD and nightmares.

Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke. “I’ve realised something lately. I know a lot about your life, your past. But you don’t know much, if anything, about mine.” His voice was quiet, hesitant like he was testing the waters.

Eddie didn’t say anything right away, just nodded, his eyes soft and understanding. “You don’t have to share if you’re not ready,” he said gently, unjudgementally. 

He shook his head, his hands clasping the edges of the album tighter. “No, I want to.” He exhaled sharply. “I think it’s time.”

He didn’t push. He simply gave a subtle nod, the slight tilt of his head showing he was listening, waiting for him to continue when he was ready.

With a shaky breath, he finally handed him the album. “Here.”

Eddie accepted it carefully, his fingers grazing against the messy handwriting on the cover before he opened it, his movements slow and respectful. His heart fluttered at the sight, a deep sense of making the right decision blanketing him. There was something about the way Eddie handled the album, like it was fragile, like it mattered to him.

He watched carefully as he flipped through the pages, the photographs inside all faded with time. There were the two family photos he had, blurry snapshots from his childhood. The first page had a picture of him as a toddler, sitting on a couch, a small smile on his face. His mom was beside him, her arms around him protectively. It should have been a happy memory, but he knew better. He could almost feel the absence of the warmth that should have been there.

Eddie’s gaze lingered on the picture for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to the next page. More pictures followed. But the Buckley family wasn’t featured in them. Instead, they were images of trees, rocks, and train tracks. Images of other children playing at the park in a very far-away shaky shot. A singular photo of Buck smiling as he awkwardly twisted the camera to try and capture a picture of himself. But his eyes were distant. He didn’t believe he was camera worthy, no matter how badly he tried to convince himself otherwise. 

His breath caught as Eddie flipped the page again, an all too familiar collage of one face staring back at him. Almost identical to his, but without the birthmark.

 
He cleared his throat. “My parents never wanted me.” His voice was rougher than he’d intended, but he pushed through the lump in his throat. “They had me because my brother, Daniel, was sick. He had leukaemia.”

Eddie didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. He just kept looking at the photos, his expression unreadable, but his gaze was steady. He was here. Present. Listening.

“They thought I could…save him,” he continued, almost whispering as he fought the urge to shove his walls up again. He paused, glancing at Eddie for a brief moment, and saw that he was looking at him with a quiet intensity, his face soft. It was so comforting – fighting any negative thoughts wrestling their way to the front of his mind. “But Daniel died. And after that, everything changed.”

He felt Eddie shuffle closer to him on the couch, just the slightest press of his shoulder against his. The contact was grounding, like an anchor holding him steady, and he found himself leaning into it without even realising it.

“My parents…they never looked at me the same way after that,” he continued, his voice trembling now. “They hated me because I failed to save him. I reminded them of Daniel. I looked like him. I was just a constant reminder of everything they lost.”

Eddie’s hand moved over to his, his fingers brushing gently over the back of his hand, and for a moment, he thought his heart might stop. He looked at Eddie, his breath catching in his throat as his fingers remained there, gently but firmly pressing down on his. It wasn’t a question or an invitation. It was just an offering, quiet and steady.

“Buck,” he said softly, but he didn’t interrupt the story. He just squeezed his hand in that comforting way that only he seemed to be able to do. It was as if he was saying, I’m here without needing to say a word.

He swallowed, trying to push past the last of the lump in his throat. “They…they made me feel like I didn’t belong in the world. That it would never accept me because I was a failure. They told me I should’ve never been born in the first place.”

The words fell heavy in the space between them, but Eddie didn’t move. He didn’t look away. His hand remained over his, still there, still grounding him in the reality of the moment.

“I started taking pictures,” he said, closing his eyes, almost like he was telling himself the story for the first time, really understanding it. “Because I felt worthless. Like the world was awful, and I was just another mistake. But when I looked through a lens, it was different. I could see beauty. I could see something good. It was the only thing that ever made me feel like I belonged; like I had a place in this world.” He inhaled shakily. “The pictures were reminders to keep going. That there was something worth living for.”

Eddie’s hand tightened just slightly, not in a way that felt possessive, but in a way that felt like you’re not alone. He didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. The warmth of his body beside him, the weight of his hand over his, the quiet understanding in his gaze – it all settled around him, soft and steady.

The room felt suddenly too small, but not in a way that made him uncomfortable. It was intimate; they were sharing something sacred, something neither of them had ever expected to give away.

Finally, after a long, drawn-out silence, Eddie spoke. His voice was low, but there was no pity in it, only understanding. “Buck…You are not a mistake. I am so glad that you were born. You are one of the most important people in mine and Chris’ life. And I’m…I’m honoured you’re letting me see this part of you.”

His chest tightened, and he turned his hand so that their fingers were fully entwined. He hadn’t even realised how badly he needed to hear those words, how much he’d been holding on to the idea that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the failure his parents had made him feel he was. Maddie and the 118 had been slowly helping him with that, although he never talked about it. Not even with Maddie – it was too painful for her to relive. But sometimes the doubt lingered.

“Eddie,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. 

He gave his hand another reassuring squeeze, holding his gaze steady. “You’re enough, Buck. You’ve always been enough.”

The words hit him like a tsunami, crashing over him with so much force that he couldn’t hold back any longer. A sob tore through his chest, raw and guttural, and before he could stop it, the tears started to fall, streaking down his face as his heart ached. 

Eddie didn’t hesitate. He was right there pressing against him in an instant, pulling him into his chest, his arms wrapping around him with such a quiet strength that he felt safe for the first time in a long time. Eddie was his only lifeline in that moment, something steady to hold on to while everything else inside him crumbled.

His sobs were muffled against his chest, the tears coming in waved, the violent storm he had bottled for years. Eddie’s fingers carded through his hair, soothing him, comforting him.

“I’m here, Buck,” he murmured, his voice soft but loud enough to cut through his cries. “I’m here. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore, not with me.”

He clung to him, his hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, his chest heaving with each broken sob. Eddie’s warmth surrounded him, and the sound of his heartbeat – steady and strong – managed to break through his swirling thoughts.

When the tears finally slowed, when the storm in his chest began to quiet, he pulled back just enough to look up at him. His face was flushed from the crying, his eyes red and swollen, but he was so relieved to have finally let it all out. 

Eddie didn’t let go. He kept his hands gently on his arms.

“I can’t believe you stayed…” he whispered.

Eddie cupped his face softly and traced the line of his cheek with his thumb, wiping away the last of the tears that had escaped. His gaze softened, and he held him there, so close. The look in his eyes was full of something tender, something deep.

“You’re worth staying for, Evan Buckley,” he said, his voice a soft, loving whisper. “You’re worthy of so much more than you think. You deserve to be happy and feel like you belong. You deserve to be loved – for everything you are, for everything you’ve been. You are such a good person. You are beautiful – inside and out.”

He couldn’t hold it together anymore. The lump in his throat swelled, and before he knew it, he was crying again, this time for a different reason. Not from sadness, but from the overwhelming, warm ache of hearing those words – words he’d never thought he’d hear, certainly not from someone like Eddie.

“Everyone leaves,” he whispered through his tears, a shaky laugh escaping his lips despite the raw emotion. “I’m a mess. A total mess, Eddie. I don’t know why you’d want to be my friend…why you’d stay.”

Eddie’s expression shifted, the tenderness in his gaze turning into something more protective, more certain. “Of course I’m staying, Buck. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

He laughed again, though it was a little breathless, a little unsteady. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, the last of his tears falling away as he finally regained control of his breathing. His heart was still pounding, but it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

“I can’t believe you made my ugly cry,” he grumbled, earning a small laugh from Eddie.

“Yet you still look handsome,” he retorted, and he had to close his eyes to stop himself crying again. Fuck, Eddie.

He stood up slowly, offering him his hand, his smile shy but genuine.

“We should probably make something to eat,” he said, trying to ease the tension, the heavy emotions that he had spilt everywhere. “I’m starving, actually. Crying really takes it out of you.”

Eddie looked up at him, his own smile forming as took his hand with an easy, comfortable grip, using it to leverage himself to his feet. “Sounds good. What do you have in mind?”

As they moved toward the kitchen, he fell into an easy rhythm with his best friend pottering around the kitchen as they listened to music and worked together to cook a pasta dish. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he had to prove anything. He didn’t feel like he was running anymore. There was still a long way to go, but with Eddie beside him, he felt like maybe he didn’t have to do it all alone.

After a while, the warm aroma of garlic and tomatoes filled the kitchen, mingling with the sound of bubbling sauce and the upbeat playlist coming through the speakers. He was standing over the stove, wooden spoon in hand, stirring the simmering pasta sauce. He was focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tasted and adjusted the seasoning. A dash of salt, a sprinkle of dried basil. He was trying to get the perfect balance – the kind of meal that would end the night on a high.

Eddie had been dancing around the kitchen with him, grabbing ingredients from the fridge, occasionally leaning over his shoulder to steal a taste of the sauce as he added the chopped vegetables or teased him about something. But now, he was quiet; he glanced up to find he had slipped out of the room.

As he tasted the sauce once more, savouring the tanginess of the tomatoes and the warmth of the herbs, he let his thoughts wander. It wasn’t often that he got time like this, where he could cook a meal for someone while dancing around the kitchen stupidly with them and everything felt…settled. He could hear Eddie laughing quietly in the other room, and he smiled. That was one of his favourite sounds.

But then, in the midst of that peaceful quiet, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps returning to the kitchen. He turned his head, expecting to see him holding some kitchen utensils or asking for another taste. Instead, he was standing there holding one of his cameras, the familiar black lens pointed right at him.

“Smile!” he called, his voice tinged with amusement.

But he was already smiling – a soft smile that came naturally, the kind that appeared when he was nearby, when things felt easy. It was a smile that said something without words, something that didn’t need explaining. Eddie’s eyes flickered with approval just as he pressed the shutter.

Click.

He froze, startled. Not having had time to process to his request in the first place. The smile on his face faded into something more surprised, something self-conscious, as he caught up with what had happened. “Eddie…”

Eddie didn’t miss a beat. He hummed in approval. “Perfect.”

Eddie walked over to him, showing him the screen; his heart fumbled as he took in the photo. There he was, standing in the kitchen, apron askew, with a spoon in his hand and a bright, wide smile on his face. It was a candid shot, taken with shaky, inexperienced hands, but it wasn’t just the moment that caught him off guard – it was the feeling it evoked. He looked so…content. Despite having sobbed until he couldn’t breathe not even two hours ago, he looked happy. He looked like he belonged, like he fit into this life in a way he hadn’t ever allowed himself to fully believe.

He blinked, feeling his cheeks heat up. He opened his mouth to respond, trying to grab the camera, but before he could, Eddie was already on the move.

“Oh no, no, no,” he grinned mischievously. “That’s too good of a shot. I’m keeping that one forever.”

With a laugh, he sprinted out of the kitchen, camera held high like a trophy, taking more photos as Buck switched off the stove and chased him around the apartment, both of them slipping past the bedroom, the hallway, and into the living room. Eddie taunted him playfully, teasing him as he toed off his shoes, clambered onto the sofa, and jumped over the back to put more distance between them.

“Hey!” Buck called out as he tried to catch him, breathless from laughing. “That’s cheating, you know?”

“Maybe,” Eddie quipped back, snapping more photos of him. “But I think you owe me after all the torture you put me through during shoots.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his hands up, pointing at him with a grin. “I’m the nicest photographer you’ve ever had and you know it! But after this? Maybe not.”

Eddie gave a mock gasp, holding the camera high and out of his reach as he weaved back to the kitchen. But he finally managed to grab it from him, taking the opportunity to snap a few quick pictures of him in return, but he simply winked and posed exaggeratedly. There was something so natural about them like this, both laughing and messing around, and he couldn’t help but smile wider as he clicked the shutter. 

He finally paused, lowering the camera and looking at him. “Alright, alright. I think I’ve got the perfect shot of you, too.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, he grabbed a nearby tripod and began setting up the camera, adjusting the settings.

“C’mon, stand at the kitchen island,” he said, grinning.

Eddie shot him a playful look but didn’t argue, moving over to the island and crossing his arms with an exaggerated air of indifference. “Are you seriously doing an impromptu photoshoot of me in your kitchen?”

“Something like that,” He chuckled as he finalised the settings to take continuous photos at regular intervals, flipping the display screen around so it was visible to both of them. When he was done, he stood beside him, his shoulder brushing against his. “It’s only fair, right?”

He smiled softly, giving him a nod. “It’s only fair.”

The two of them stood side by side, smiling together at the camera. It was a simple shot. Nothing fancy. Just the two of them, in his kitchen, sharing a moment that was as comfortable and easy as the meal they were making together. No posing. No pressure. Just them.

He glanced at Eddie from the corner of his eye, that soft genuine smile still on his face, and without thinking, he whispered, “Thanks.”

Eddie’s smile relaxed, and he returned the gaze, his eyes tender. “I mean it, Buck. You are beautiful, inside and out. You deserve to be seen for the amazing person you are.”

His heart skipped a beat; he felt his skin burn, the flush spreading across his chest, up to his neck and his cheeks. The air between them thickened, something changing in the space. Eddie’s words embraced him and made him feel like he was home.

He shifted on his feet, his mouth dry, unsure of what to say. His emotions hung in the air, unsaid, and yet everything felt so…open. So raw. His mind raced, his pulse quickened, and his eyes darted to Eddie’s lips before snapping back up to meet his gaze.

Eddie had already been watching him – his eyes darkened just slightly, the intensity in them making his breath catch in his throat. The moment stretched out as they continued staring. A fragile, tender moment that felt like a turning point. His hold on his insistence on keeping things professional and platonic slipped away. Eddie had stayed. Eddie thought he was beautiful. Eddie made him laugh, made him happy – made him feel alive. 

For the longest moment, neither of them moved. It was as if time had slowed, the whole world waiting on the edge of whatever was about the happen next, as though they were allowing them to savour it. And then, slowly, Eddie’s hand came up, his fingers brushing lightly against his neck, the touch gentle, almost tentative.

His breath hitched at the contact, his heart racing. The sensation of his fingers on his skin felt electric, sending a burning wave of excitement through his body. It was so simple, yet it felt like everything.

He couldn’t speak. His voice had vanished, his throat tight, but his gaze locked with Eddie’s, his eyes searching, asking a question without words. He was suddenly overwhelmed, like he couldn’t breathe, the butterflies in his chest going wild.

Eddie seemed to sense the storm inside him. His fingers gently stroked his neck, and he leaned in just slightly as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his breath warm against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

He was going to lose his ability to breathe entirely. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He couldn’t trust his voice, so instead, he nodded, a slow, shaky motion that matched his breath.

It was all the permission he needed.

With that, Eddie closed the distance between them, his lips pressing gently against his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative – like a question. His heart leapt in his chest as he felt the warmth of Eddie’s mouth on his, the feeling of it so familiar and so completely new all at once. His mind raced, his thoughts scattered, but there was nothing in the world except for Eddie’s touch and the way his lips moved against his.

And then he kissed him back.

It was as if the floodgates opened all at once. All the tension, all the unspoken words between them, all the feelings that had built up over the past months – it all poured into that moment. His hands found Eddie’s chest, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt, and Eddie’s hand slid into his hair, pulling him closer as if they couldn’t get enough of each other.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, as if neither of them wanted to rush. They were both savouring it, trying to hold onto the way it felt to be this close, this open. The way their lips fit together so naturally, like they’d always known how to do this.

When they finally pulled back, just an inch or two, they were breathing heavily, their chests rising and falling in rapid succession. Buck’s heart was pounding in his ears, but there was also a peace inside him that he couldn’t explain.

Eddie’s forehead rested against his for a second, and when he opened his eyes, he was smiling. There was something shy about it, but also warm and reassuring. 

He smiled back, allowing himself to be vulnerable. “That…actually happened, right?”

Eddie laughed, a soft chuckle that vibrated through his chest. He reached out to touch his face, his thumb brushed gently against Buck's bottom lip. “Yeah, it did.”

His mind was still trying to catch up, but as Eddie’s gaze softened, the warmth of it melting into his chest, he realised that he had officially crossed the line he told himself he wouldn’t. But, he wasn’t afraid. It didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt right. Eddie was right. Eddie was his muse. He was the one, he knew it.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked quietly, his voice low and tender, his hand moving to trace patterns into his neck.

He nodded and leaned in until their noses brushed, a grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I’m more than okay.”

Eddie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he leaned in to press another soft kiss to his lips, this one slower, more deliberate. A promise, maybe. The beginning of something new.

When they pulled back again, he took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice soft but filled with so much meaning. “Thank you for…for everything.”

Eddie just smiled and pressed their foreheads together, his left hand slipping to his back, pulling him just a little closer. “Thank you, Evan. I’m glad you’re alive.”

And at that moment, in the kitchen, with the smell of pasta filling the air and the camera forgotten on the tripod, they both felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

----------

Eddie stood at the kitchen counter, fiddling with the coffee machine, trying to concentrate on something – anything – other than the racing thoughts in his head. His mind was a jumbled mess, the events of the last twenty-four hours replaying in his head on an endless loop. How Buck had opened up to him. The laughter afterwards. The kiss. The way Buck had looked at him. The way his heart had pounded in his chest, in sync with his nerves and his pulse.

He just wanted to focus on making coffee. That’s it, Just make the damn coffee.

But then, of course, Shannon arrived for her night with Christopher, and now, here they were, in the kitchen, just a few feet apart as they waited for their son to finish getting ready. She was giving him that look, the one that told him she knew something was up. He could feel her eyes on him, waiting for him to say something, anything.

And then he had caved.

“You kissed him?” Shannon exclaimed, her voice loud enough that he nearly jumped out of his skin.

He froze, his hand still gripping the coffee pot, and he could practically hear his face turning a shade of red that could rival a tomato.

 
“Shh!” he hissed at her, his hand flying up to cover his face in embarrassment. “Keep it down. Chris is in his room.”

Shannon, of course, didn’t take him seriously. She grinned, her eyes practically twinkling with mischief as she leaned against the counter, watching him with a mixture of amusement and genuine curiosity. “Oh my god, Eddie. You kissed him. I can’t believe it.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” he muttered, clearly flustered. “It just – happened.”

She let out a light, mocking laugh and shook her head. “You actually grew a pair and made the first move. Never thought I’d see the day.” Her grin grew wider, and he groaned, burying his face deeper in an attempt to hide his mortification.

“I’m not talking about this with you,” he grumbled, his voice muffled by his palms.

“Oh, please, Eds. We had a kid together, we can talk about a kiss. And Buck, of all people,” she teased, her voice dripping with delight. “Finally, you’ve decided to take the plunge, huh?”

He shot her a glare over his hands. “Shannon…please,” he sighed, still trying to recover. “Just – just focus on something else.”

But she wasn’t letting it go. Of course, she wasn’t. She was Shannon, after all. She tapped her fingers against the counter rhythmically, watching him with that knowing, smug look on her face.

“So,” she said, dragging out the word like a cat playing with its prey. “When do I get to meet him? If he’s good enough for you and Christopher to never shut up about and for you to kiss him, then he's gotta be something special.”

A flash of excitement coursed through him at the thought of Shannon meeting Buck. Of being able to introduce him as his partner to people and officially make him part of their family. But it was still so new, so uncertain. The last thing he wanted was to rush things. But he could let himself imagine.

Before he could respond, there was a sound from the hallway – the unmistakable sound of little feet shuffling toward the kitchen. He snapped his head to the door, grateful for the distraction.

“Chris?” he called out. “You all ready?”

The boy appeared in the doorway, dressed in his favourite striped shirt, his backpack slung over his shoulder. Chris paused for a moment, adjusting his coat, and then gave his dad a smile, wide and full of the energy he had come to expect from him.

“All ready, Dad!” he announced, looking up at his mom with a smile before turning back to him. “I’m gonna miss you tonight.”

“I’ll miss you too, buddy,” he said, giving him a hug. “Have fun with your mom. Call me if you need anything.”

Shannon gave him a look, a small smirk tugging at her lips before she turned with a wide smile to greet her son, fussing over his coat. “You ready to go, kiddo?”

“Yep!” he said, grabbing her hand. “See you tomorrow, Dad!”

His heart swelled as he watched Chris give him one last wave before he walked towards the door. He gave Shannon a nod of approval as his son stood by her side.

But she wasn’t quite done yet. She glanced back at him with a look that was half playful, half sincere as she let Chris step outside.

“I’m happy for you, Eddie,” she said softly. “I hope it works out with him. Just…don’t make it all about Chris, okay? Make it about yourself, too. You deserve it.”

He blinked at her and then offered her a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks. I will, I promise.”

A mix of emotions flooded him. There was a sense of calmness and anticipation. Maybe he could finally stop running from what he wanted – from what he needed.

Shannon, now halfway out of the door, glanced over her shoulder, giving him one last teasing smile. “Oh, and Eddie?” she paused, her eyes twinkling. “When you’re ready for the world to know about you and Buck, just let me know. I’ll be your biggest cheerleader.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he nearly choked on his own breath, but before he could respond, she was gone, the door clicking shut behind them. He stood there in the kitchen, feeling both light-hearted and overwhelmed. He let out a slow breath, eyes lifting to the ceiling for a second, wondering just how his life had turned into this – how one kiss had set so much in motion.

He thought about Buck, his smile, the way he made him feel safe. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. But for the first time since that phone call with his mother, he felt like he was finally doing something for himself. And maybe that was enough for now. 

He let himself believe it was.

----------

The low hum of conversation and clinking of glasses filled the bar as Buck walked in, pulling his jacket off and scanning the room. It was a Saturday night, and the usual group had gathered for a drink – Chimney, Hen, Maddie, and Eddie, who was already there. His heart skipped a beat when he spotted Eddie sitting at the table with a spare seat beside him, looking comfortable as always, but there was something different in the way his gaze flickered toward him as he approached.

He offered Eddie a smile, feeling his stomach do a flip, the kind of flip that only Eddie could make him feel.

A warm grin spread across Eddie’s face, and he couldn’t help but feel that similar rush from the other day in his kitchen.

Maddie was the next to notice him. Her eyes practically lit up with mischief as she caught a glimpse of their shared gaze, sitting close together. She put down her drink with a decisive thud and stared at the pair for a long moment, then threw her hands up in the air.

“Oh my god!” she shouted, her voice rising above the din of the bar. “You kissed!”

The words hit him like a freight train. His face immediately flushed, and Eddie’s eyes widened in complete shock. They both froze, looking at each other like deer caught in headlights, unable to form a coherent response.

Chimney and Hen exchanged glances, their eyes narrowing as they observed them in complete silence for a few seconds. Then, as if on cue, they both gasped dramatically.”

“You did!” Chimney exclaimed, his eyes wide in mock disbelief. “Oh my god, you actually kissed!”

Hen, never one to hold back her reactions, let out a little laugh and chimed in, “Well, I’ll be damned. Chim, you owe me twenty.”

Eddie groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Not again,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

Buck, however, was smiling ear to ear, his eyes creasing as he reached for Eddie’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I told you he was my muse,” he directed at Maddie, his thumb brushing over Eddie’s knuckles. 

He felt Eddie’s breath hitch and his wide eyes flicked from his hand to his face. “You...you really think that?” he asked in a whisper between them, his words laced with curiosity and a little nervousness.

His smile softened into something more tender as he leaned in a pressed a light, almost shy kiss to Eddie’s cheek. It was quick, barely a whisper of kiss, but it spoke volumes, a silent affirmation that everything was okay.

“Of course,” he whispered against his skin, and Eddie’s heart swelled in his chest at the sincerity of it. "Since the day I first laid eyes on you."

Maddie, watching the exchange with her hands clasped together, had an almost proud look on her face. “Well, it’s about damn time,” she said, teasing in the best way possible. “I can’t believe you didn’t spill the moment it happened, Buck.”

He gave her a playful side-eye as Chimney chimed in. “I’m just surprised it took you guys this long. I banked on two weeks max. It was obvious from the start.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Chimney. “Obvious?”

Hen laughed. “You’ve both been pining for the past six months. It’s been hard to watch.”

He smirked. “I think that’s putting it mildly,” he said, sending Eddie a wink.

Eddie felt himself flush, but it was the good kind. He leaned into him and glanced at Chimney and Maddie. “So, uh, what about you two?” he asked. “You two finally dating yet?”

Chimney froze, his eyes going wide, then immediately tried to deflect. “What? No! We’re just – uh, we’re just friends! Totally just friends.”

But Hen wasn’t having it. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with an amused look on her face. “Yeah, sure, Chim. Just friends.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a terrible liar. 

They turned to Maddie, who laced her fingers with Chimney’s, a soft smile playing on her lips as she whispered an, it’s okay to him. “Well,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It’s been a long time coming, but yeah. We’ve been…seeing each other for a while now.”

Hen burst into laughter, throwing her head back. “Oh my god, the Buckley siblings are so predictable,” she teased, earning a few chuckles from everyone else.

Buck rolled his eyes dramatically, though he was clearly amused by the entire situation. Eddie couldn’t help but laugh either. The ease of the conversation, the jokes, the shared moments, it felt good to be with these people, especially with Buck by his side. His heart was still racing, but now it felt like it was beating in sync with Buck’s, with his rhythm.

Maddie, now a little more subdued, smiled fondly at them. “You two are good for each other. I’m happy for you,” she said, her voice sincere and warm.

Buck glanced at him, his hand still resting in his, and without thinking, pressed a gentle, loving, chaste kiss to the back of his hand. Eddie’s breath caught, but this time he didn’t look away. He smiled an unguarded soft expression that made Buck’s chest ache in the best way.

“Thanks,” Eddie said quietly, shuffling to lean into Buck just a little. “This feels…right.”

“Yeah,” Buck agreed, squeezing him tighter. “It does.”

As the conversation shifted to something else, the group settled in, drinks in hand, laughter filling the air. Buck and Eddie stole glances, ones that only they could understand, and that night, everything was perfect. 

----------

It felt like a leap, even if it wasn’t. For them, stepping into something more than friendship hadn’t come with a single grand gesture or a sudden, dramatic confession. It had been a slow burn, a gradual shift from shared laughs and late-night conversations to touches that lingered just a second too long, looks that said more than words ever could.

But now, it was official. They were something more, something that neither of them had fully expected to happen – but something that felt right, more right than anything else in the world. And tonight was their first real date. 

The nerves were there, of course, hidden beneath the quiet excitement. Eddie couldn’t quite decide if he was more nervous about going on a date or the fact that everything was still so new. He was used to spending time with Buck, used to the rhythm of their friendship, the ease that had always been between them. But now – now it was different. Now they were on the cusp of a lifetime together as soulmates.

And as he stood in front of his bedroom mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time, he couldn’t help but feel a little out of his depth. He wasn’t someone who dated often, and definitely not someone who’d ever made the first move before.

But then, there was Buck.

Buck had a way of making everything feel simple, even when it wasn’t. He had a confidence about him, a kind of natural charm that made him feel like he could breathe, like he could just be himself. But he was also insecure, and carried things so closely to his chest, choosing carefully who he let in. He had let him in and seen him for his soul. And that, maybe more than anything else, was why this felt different from any other relationship Eddie had been in.

A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. His heart skipped a beat as he glanced at the clock. Right on time.

He made his way to the door, his pulse racing just a little. When he opened it, Buck stood there, looking casual but somehow effortlessly put-together in a dark button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of jeans that were a little too tight in the best possible way.

He was smiling, but there was a slight nervousness behind his eyes too, a flicker of uncertainty that mirrored what he was feeling. It made him smile, because for all the bravado Buck exuded, in this moment, they were both in the same boat.

“Hey,” Buck said as he leaned in slightly, as if hesitant, but then grinned. “You look amazing.”

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Buck chuckled, running a hand through his curls, the kind of gesture that he had grown to love - he loved his curls. It was small, but it was Buck – self-assured but with a slight edge of vulnerability. It made him feel real. Made him feel like maybe, just maybe, they were both a little unsure of what they were doing, but still willing to take the risk.

“You ready to go?” Buck asked, gesturing toward his Jeep parked in the driveway. 

“Yep,” he replied, giving him a small smile. “Lead the way.”

**

The restaurant was small, simply lit, with an intimate atmosphere that felt comfortable without being overly fussy. There were candles flickering on each table, and the smell of garlic and fresh-baked bread hung in the air. The waitress had led them to a booth, which Eddie was grateful for, mostly because he liked the idea of sitting close to Buck, with just a little bit of space between them.

They slid into their seats across from one another, a bottle of wine already waiting on the table. Buck made a joke about how he was definitely not a sommelier but was pretty sure the wine was good. He laughed, the sound easy and familiar. His nerves had already started to dissipate. The warm, golden light of the candles flickered gently, and the hum of the soft piano played in the background, wrapping around them like a cushion. 

Their knees brushed under the table, and immediately Buck leaned in, his voice lowering in a way that he couldn’t help but find endearing. “So,” he started, his gaze flicking from the menu to his face. “What doth take thy plaited tonight, handsome sir?”

He grinned stupidly and shrugged as he combed over the options. “I’m not sure. Maybe a pasta? Something that’s filling but not too heavy.”

Buck gave him a playful smirk. “You’re a pasta guy, huh? I like that.”

He rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with pasta?”

“Nothing,” he replied easily, his tone teasing. “Just figured you’d be more of a steak-and-whiskey type.”

He laughed at that. “Why, because I’m a model?”

“Because you’re rugged, handsome, and hard to please,” he corrected with a cheeky grin. 

He scoffed playfully, returning his attention to the menu, returning the smirk as he kept his head low, only lifting his eyes to meet his gaze. “Not hard to please, I’m just very selective…I know what I want.”

Buck’s grin grew wider as he settled back into his seat, reading the menu himself. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a giver.”

There had been something about that exchange – something in the way Buck smiled at him, and how he hadn’t even had to try to keep up with the playful banter. It felt easy. Comfortable. He hadn’t expected that – not with the label and pressure of the first date hanging over them. It was just him and Buck, and everything felt effortless. He didn’t feel like he had to be anything more or less. They were still them.

And then, there was the first touch.

It started small, a brush of fingers as Buck reached for the breadbasket between them. Their eyes met for a brief second, and he felt something flicker in his chest. Buck’s hand stayed there, resting just a little too long on the basket, their fingers brushing again as Eddie pulled a piece free. It wasn’t a big moment, nothing dramatic, but it was soft, intimate in its simplicity. It was enough to send a jolt through him, the kind that made his stomach flip even after having already kissed him. 

“Careful,” Buck said, his voice low and teasing, eyes locked on him as if they shared a private joke. “I might start thinking you’re trying to hold my hand.”

He smirked, leaning in just a little closer. “Well, I didn’t hear you complain,” he teased back.

Buck’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and there was a glint there – something that made him feel warm all over. His hand brushed against his again as he reached for the small butter portions, his fingers grazing his knuckles just enough that it wasn’t accidental. The touch lingered, and for a second, he felt like he could breathe a little easier. He had expected this to be awkward. He had expected to second-guess every move, every word. But this? This felt natural. It felt like they had always meant to be sitting here.

Their playful banter continued as they shared their meal, and each time Buck touched him – whether it was a hand brushing against his leg under the table, or a quiet nudge with his elbow as they laughed – it felt like another step into a space that was entirely theirs. His heart still lurched each time, but it was the good kind of heart-racing nerves – because even though it was new and comfortable, he knew would be something lasting.

And then, their legs brushed for the third time as they excitedly talked about the campaign and the final month and a half they had left.

This time, he didn’t pull away. He didn’t stiffen up like he might’ve done if this were any other situation. He let his leg stay there, pressed against Buck’s under the table, feeling the warmth radiate from where they touched. Buck’s foot shifted ever so slightly, a gentle nudge against his calf, like a reminder that they were both still here, in this quiet moment, in this shared space.

He moved his foot, giving Buck a little playful nudge back. He didn’t even have to think about it. He just did it, smiling as their legs entwined, this time with no hesitation.

Buck grinned, his eyes flickering with something that made him feel a little light-headed. “You’re really good at this, huh?” he asked, voice low but playful.

He chuckled, his thumb gently tracing the rim of his wine glass. “What, flirting?”

Buck’s eyes widened and his mouth parted slightly. “Wait, that’s what you’re trying to do?”

He simply laughed and threw his scrunched-up napkin at him. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” he retorted with a wink, a grin settling perfectly on his face. “But no. I was talking about how much you can make my heart stutter just by existing. Making people fall for you without even trying.”

“I could say the same about you,” he replied, not missing the way Buck’s lips twitched, the way his eyes brightened at the compliment.

It wasn’t flirtation for the sake of it – it never had been. There was always something deeper in the way they interacted – something that made them feel connected to each other in a way that wasn’t about the job, wasn’t about the camera or the shoots they had done together. This was something else, something raw and real. And every time Buck reached for his hands, or hooked his foot around his ankle to keep him close, or his fingertips grazed the back of his wrist, Eddie realised that he didn’t have to hide it anymore. Didn’t have to keep holding himself back. 

So, as the night drifted by effortlessly, he didn’t. The food was amazing – rich and comforting, just like the conversation. They talked about everything and nothing. About the weirdest things they’d ever eaten, about the places they wanted to visit, about the embarrassing stories they wanted to get out of the way before their families could hold over their heads as blackmail. Each time their eyes met, each time they both laughed, they fell deeper.

He allowed himself to relish in the permission of being able to touch him, to pull him closer and not have to hide his feelings, the way he would get lost in the beauty of the man before him. The one he was privileged to know. And when they walked back to the car, hands clasped together as they enjoyed the breeze and the post-exhilaration of a good meal, he let himself do what his mind had jumped to the moment he laid eyes on him.

He gripped Buck’s side with one hand and pulled him closer, his fingers brushing gently along the curve of his brow, tracing the line of his eyebrow with quiet reverence. His gaze remained, soft and full of admiration, as if committing the small details of his face to memory. There was something so tender in the moment – so raw and real. And with a loving smile, he leaned in slowly, his breath heating Buck’s skin before pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his birthmark.

He climbed into the car before Buck could react, grinning as he faltered and fumbled to get his keys in the ignition, a rapid and burning flush painting his cheeks and chest. 

**

The car rolled to a stop in front of his home, the soft hum of the engine the only sound breaking the peaceful stillness of the night. They had been quiet for a few moments, just the two of them sitting there, caught in the afterglow of their first date. The drive had been filled with easy conversation and laughter, but now, as the car idled in the quiet street, the weight of the evening seemed to settle around them.

He glanced at Buck, his heart still fluttering from the chemistry of the night. Buck was staring straight ahead, his hands resting loosely on the wheel, but he could see the slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was the same smile that had made his stomach flip when they first met, the one that now make him weak at the knees every time their eyes met.

“Well…” he started, almost reluctantly. “I guess this is where I get out.”

Buck turned his head toward him, the smile widening. “I could walk you to the door,” he offered.

He couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him. “You don’t have to,” he said, his tone teasing. “I’m not a teenager, I can make it there on my own.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll survive,” Buck replied with a wink, but then his eyes softened and he added. “But I want to. You know, I want to be a gentleman about this whole thing.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused but secretly touched by the sentiment. “A gentleman, huh?” he said, reaching for the door handle. “Lead the way, then.”

Buck was out of the car almost before the words were out of his mouth, circling the front of the Jeep with that effortless confidence he always found so magnetic. The night air was cool as they walked together up the path to his front door, the silence comfortable, with only the sound of their footsteps breaking it. The living room light was on, the soft shadows of the lamp decorating the curtain. He stole a glance at Buck, noticing the way the soft streetlights caught his features, how his profile seemed so…right.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he admitted softly, reaching out to hold his hand with his fingertips.

Buck smiled. “Me too. I think we might’ve set the bar pretty high for future dates.”

They stopped at the front door, standing just close enough that he could feel Buck’s presence without them having to touch. There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt more significant than any words.

Buck shifted his weight a little, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Well,” he said, eyes flickering to his lips just for a second before looking back into his eyes. “This is where I’d kiss you goodbye…if you wanted me to.”

His breath caught in his throat, a shiver running through him at the question that was both casual and loaded with meaning. This would be their second kiss…and it was just as exciting as the first. He looked at Buck, his heart racing a little faster.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I think I’d like that.”

Buck’s smile grew, a mix of relief and something else – something warm and hopeful – and before he could say another word, Buck closed the distance between them, stepping forward with a quiet certainty. Buck’s hand reached up, gently cupping his face, the touch careful but tender, like he was savouring the moment, just as much as he was.

He felt his pulse quicken as Buck’s thumb traced along his jawline, his gaze never wavering. Slowly, as if giving him all the time in the world to pull away if he wanted to, Buck leaned in. The kiss was gentle at first, barely a whisper of contact, just their lips brushing together in a sweet, tentative greeting. But when he didn’t pull away, Buck deepened it just a little, enough for him to feel the warmth of his lips, the faint taste of wine still lingering. 

Somehow this was even better than the first time. It was everything – soft, lingering, and full of promise. It wasn’t rushed, but it wasn’t hesitant either. It was a kiss that took every explicit and implicit meaning from their first and added, I’m here, I’m interested, I want this, and most of all, I’m not letting you go now. 

When they finally pulled away, there was a shared breath between them, a moment that felt like it could stretch on forever. His eyes fluttered open, meeting Buck’s gaze. Buck looked at him like he held all the secrets to the world, his half-swollen lips framing his face with a gorgeous smile.

“I think,” Buck said, his voice soft and a little breathless. “Shannon might have just seen that.”

He groaned, resting his head gently on his shoulder. “You should probably escape while you can.”

Buck chuckled and lifted his chin with a finger, running them down his cheeks again. He tilted his head to the side as his wide eyes absorbed every detail. “I’ll see you soon?” he asked.

“Definitely,” he replied. “I’ll message you?”

"Please do." Buck lingered for just a second longer, then gave him one last smile before leaning in to press their lips together again. He pulled away and turned to head back to his car. “Goodnight, Eds.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered, watching him go. His heart soared with the feeling that only comes when you know you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be – that sense of fulfilment and enjoyment of life. 

As Buck got in the car and drove away, he jingled his keys in the front door. He gently closed it behind him, the soft click of the lock punctuating the end of the night. His heart was still racing from the way Buck had kissed him, that tender, grounding kiss that made him feel like he was floating. He leaned back against the door, his fingers instinctively brushing over his lips, still tingling from the touch. A smile made its way onto his face, and for a moment, he just stood there, allowing himself to relive the moment. The entire date had been…perfect. More than perfect, actually. He’d been so caught up in it that he hadn’t wanted it to end, and now, as it all came to an end, it felt like his feet hadn’t quite landed back on the ground.

Before he could fully collect himself, Shannon appeared in the doorway to the living room, a mischievous grin on her face. “Well, well, well,” she teased, leaning casually against the frame. “Looks like someone had a successful night.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes, but the flush creeping up his neck gave him away. “Shut up,” he muttered, still pressing his fingers to his lips, unwilling to let go of the memory just yet.

Her grin only widened as she crossed her arms, her teasing tone not letting up for a second. “Oh, come on.” She raised an eyebrow, eying him up and down. “You’re acting like a teenager, Eddie. Look at you, blushing and grinning like you just went on your first date.”

“I did just go on my first date, Shan,” he said, though his voice had softened, giving away how much he had enjoyed it. He slid his hand off the door and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit sheepish. 

“Mm-hmm.” She raised her hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “Just saying, he’s one handsome guy.”

He blinked at her, his heart skipping a beat. He tried to fight the smile but failed miserably as he brushed past her. “Dios mio,” he muttered, though there was no heat behind it, just a fond amusement. 

Her grin softened a little, but her eyes still sparkled. “And if even half of what Chris says is anywhere near close to the truth about how good of a person he is, I don’t blame you for falling for someone like that. He sounds perfect.”

He just sighed, sitting down on the couch, his cheeks hurting. “You have no idea,” he murmured, mostly to himself, but Shannon heard him and caught the look in his eyes.

“When you go on your next date – I’ll be more than happy to take Chris again. Just say the word.”

He smiled gratefully. “How was he tonight?” he asked, curious despite himself. His son had been in someone else’s care for the evening, and he couldn’t help but worry a little. 

“He was brilliant, we had a fun night. He didn’t even argue about brushing his teeth,” she laughed gently and then smirked at him. “He only asked a few questions about why his dad had used the expensive cologne he keeps on the top shelf in the bathroom.”

His eyebrows shot up before an incredulous laugh escaped his lips. “Dios, that kid’s too perceptive for his own good.”

Shannon let out a loud, unabashed laugh as she moved to sit on the arm of the sofa. “He’s a smart one,” she said affectionately. “You should be proud of how you’ve raised him, Edmundo.”

“I try my best,” he replied. “But thank you. Not just for that but thank you for coming back into his life. For being here. We love having you around.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” she replied sincerely, squeezing his forearm. “But I still want to meet this perfect Buck who stole my boy’s heart, and evidently yours too.”

As they shared another laugh, he could say it with certainty – things were finally looking up.

----------

The house was quiet, the kind of calm that comes just before something important happens. Eddie stood in the kitchen, casually finishing up a cup of coffee, though his mind was elsewhere. He glanced over at Buck, who was pacing in the living room, adjusting his shirt, which he had already changed four times.

“You’re not going to get any more handsome by staring at yourself in the mirror, you know,” he teased, but there was a hint of fondness in it as he watched Buck run a hand through his hair.

Buck shot him a look, her nerves barely masked. “I’m just making sure I look okay,” he muttered, tugging at his collar. 

“It’s not an interview, baby,” he chuckled but Buck shook his head.

“It’s the mother of your child, Eddie!” he excused. “Chris’ mom!”

He rolled his eyes at that, leaning against the kitchen counter, trying not to laugh too much. “Yeah, I get it. But she’s just Shannon, Buck. You’ve already met Abuela and Tia Pepa many times before and they’re family.”

He paused mid-pace, giving him a look like he hadn’t entirely caught on. “This isn’t the same thing,” he said with a grimace. “This is – this is different.”

He couldn’t stop the snort from escaping. “It’s not like you’re asking her to marry you. You’re just meeting one of my friends. You’ve got this.”

Buck let out a long sigh, running his hands over his face in exaggerated frustration. “I just want to make a good impression,” he admitted, though he sounded more like a teenager than the confident award-winning photographer he knew so well. “I don’t want to mess this up. I like you, Eddie. I like Chris. I don’t want Shannon to think I’m some – some…whatever.” He paused, looking for the right word, but nothing came to mind.

He stepped closer, giving him a reassuring smile. “You’re not gonna mess it up, I promise. And the only thing she’s gonna think of you is how amazing you are. Relax. She’s just a person. She’s not a test or some intimidating boss. She’s just Shannon.”

Buck’s shoulders slumped a little, but he didn’t look entirely convinced. “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he confirmed with a nod. “Now, you look absolutely gorgeous, and everything’s gonna be fine.”

Buck finally nodded, letting out a breath and he pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He seemed to calm just a little, but he could still see the slight edge of nerves in his eyes. He smiled softly, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, thumb stroking over his neck.

Just as he was about to say something else, the doorbell rang, interrupting the moment.

Shannon.

Buck froze, his eyes wide as he quickly checked his reflection in the window right next to the door. Eddie laughed to himself, shaking his head.  “Okay, seriously. You’ve got this.”

Before Buck could back out, he reached for the door, pulling it open. And there she was. Standing with a warm, easy smile, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, looking as lovely as always.

“Hey, Eddie,” she greeted, stepping inside with her usual energy. “Hope I’m not too late.”

“Hey,” he replied, stepping back to let her in. He gave her a brief hug, smiling as she greeted him. “You’re right on time.”

Shannon pulled back with a bright smile, her eyes immediately moving to Buck. “And this must be the infamous Buck,” she mused, extending her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Buck stared at her for a second, still looking like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands before he awkwardly reached out and shook her hand. “Uh, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you, too.” He swallowed, his voice slightly too stiff for his usual easy-going manner. “It’s great to meet you, Shannon.”

Eddie’s heart warmed as he watched them interact. Shannon’s smile was as open and welcoming as ever, her calm nature putting Buck at ease almost immediately. She didn’t seem to have an ounce of judgement in her, just genuine kindness. 

“I’ve been begging this one to introduce us for a while now,” she said, cocking her head backwards in his direction. “But he wanted to keep you all to himself.”

Buck laughed quietly, glancing between them. “I bet.”

She smiled gently, fixing him with a gentle gaze. “Thank you for taking care of Christopher, and for everything you’ve done for him. I know he’s been lucky to have you around.”

His posture immediately relaxed at the mention of Christopher, his nerves easing more and more. “Of course. He’s an amazing kid,” he said wistfully as he played back his favourite memories with the kid. “I’m just glad to be there for him…and for Eddie.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, her grin widening. “Well, you’re certainly something special to be able to get close to this one.” She hitched a thumb toward him. “He’s not exactly easy to get along with.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a real charmer.”

Her gaze turned back to him, and she softened again, her voice quieter now. “But seriously, Buck. Thank you for looking after them both. You’ve been really good to Eddie, and you’ve made a huge difference in Christopher’s life too. I’m so grateful they found you.”

His expression turned serious but lighter, almost a little overwhelmed by the sincerity in her voice. “I’m just…doing what I can,” he said, his voice filled with humility. “But it means a lot to me that you’re saying that. I care about both of them – more than I realised I would.”

She nodded, radiating nothing but adoration for him. “I can see that. And that’s all I could hope for. I know this thing between you two is quite new, but you’ve been like family to them since they met you.”

Eddie’s chest tightened a little at that. It was true – Buck had long become family to them, without either of them even realising it. He glanced at his boyfriend, seeing the effect her words had on him. He was allowing himself to accept them, to accept that he did have people who cared for him and wanted him in their lives. He was accepting that he belonged somewhere.

Shannon noticed the look, and with a small wink, she added. “Now, if you guys need me to leave you two alone, just let me know.” Her voice was light and teasing, but Eddie could see the sincerity behind her words. “And can we please eat this meal? It smells gorgeous! Is Buck actually making a good husband out of you already, Eddie?”

Buck’s face flushed, but he laughed, the tension finally breaking. “No, no, I cooked. I won’t let him in the kitchen.”

“Wise decision,” she chuckled, and Eddie groaned as they both taunted him about his cooking skills.

As they chatted, there was something so comfortable about the moment – seeing two of the most important people in his life, people who had come to mean the world to him, coming together. It was like a new chapter – one he hadn’t known he needed until it was happening right in front of him.

----------

The bright lights of the arena buzzed around them, the air thick with excitement as Buck, Eddie, and Chris made their way to their seats. The sound of the crowd was a low hum, punctuated by occasional cheers as the fight before Lena’s began to heat up. Chris, eyes wide and focused, couldn’t sit still as he bounced in his seat, watching the fighters in the ring with intensity far beyond his years.

Eddie settled into his seat beside Buck, glancing over at his son, who was practically vibrating with energy. “Need anything, mijo?”

Chris shook his head eagerly, his eyes still glued to the ring. “No, I’m good. I don’t want to miss it!” His voice was full of excitement, but there was a serious note to it too.

Buck smiled, leaning back in his seat and glancing over at Eddie. “He’s really into this, huh?”

Eddie chuckled. “I think he’s been practising his commentary for weeks. He’s got the whole fight down, I swear.”

As the current fight came to an end, Chris leaned forward, pointing toward the fighters. “Okay, okay. So, Buck, here’s how it works. There are three rounds. Each round is three minutes long,” he said, counting with his fingers to demonstrate. “And the fighters are supposed to try to score points by landing punches, right? The referee’s job is to make sure they follow the rules.”

He gave him a look, grinning. “Oh, really? I didn’t know that. Good to know,” he said, leaning in with exaggerated interest. “So, like, what kind of punches are they trying to land? Do they go BAM or just smaller shots?”

Chris nodded seriously but then giggled as he leaned in closer to make sure he could hear him over the noise. “No, no, Buck! They’re not trying to knock each other out with one punch! They’re trying to score points by hitting their opponent cleanly. It’s all about precision.”

“Precision, eh?” he repeated, impressed at his vocabulary, glancing at Eddie.

“Told you,” he mouthed over his head and Buck chuckled.

“Ohhh, right. Like a points game. Got it,” he said, feigning slight confusion. “So, they just really go for each other then? Like wild animals.”

Chris gave him a look that was far too serious for his age, one he would expect from his sister and not a seven-almost-eight-year-old child. “It’s not just anywhere. You have to hit them on the head or the torso. Like this,” he demonstrated, miming a punch to the air, his form surprisingly solid. “But you get the most points when you hit clean in the face.”

He nodded sagely, turning to Eddie with an expression of mock awe. “Wow, Eds. Chris really knows his stuff.”

Eddie, who was trying not to laugh, simply shrugged with a grin. “His love of knowledge rivals yours. He’s been practising with Lena a lot.”

As the announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, signalling the start of Lena’s fight, Chris’ excitement was almost suffocating. He leaned closer to Buck. “Lena’s in the red corner. She’s always red,” he explained, pointing. “You need to watch her footwork! She’s really good at using angles and dodging punches and counters. She’s really fast!”

He looked at him like he was hearing it for the first time, loving that Chris was able to share his knowledge of something he loves. “Angles, huh? So she doesn’t just stand there and punch?” He gave Chris a dramatic look of realisation. “I thought that’s all you did in these things?”

The boy gasped, clearly appalled at his ignorance. “Nooo! It’s not just about punching! You have to move around, too. If you don’t move, you’re just a target!”

“Ohhh, yeah. Right. Moving is key,” he said, nodding along with an exaggerated seriousness. He met Eddie’s eyes again who was hiding his smile behind his hand. “So, like, if Lena stand still, she’s basically asking to get punched in the face?”

Chris giggled, now completely invested in educating Buck, nodding fervently. “Exactly! She has to stay on her toes. If she stands still, the other fighter can just…boom! Hit her.”

He grinned. “Boom, huh? Got it. I’ll watch for the boom.” He shot Eddie a look, his eyes twinkling with amusement as they listened to him ramble. “How do you think she’s gonna do?”

Chris puffed out his chest proudly. “She’s gonna win. She’s got this. She’s really good!” He finally tore his eyes away from the ring to look over at him, as if it was his duty to ensure he understood. “She is way faster than everyone else. And when they try to punch her, she’s gonna dodge and then hit them instead!”

He made a show of looking impressed. “Oh, wow. That does sound really good. I can barely keep track of all this. You’re like a fight expert, Chris. You know more than me!”

He beamed. “I am an expert. I can teach you everything you want to know! Just like you do with me!”

He and Eddie struggled not to burst out laughing at how seriously he was taking it. “I’ll definitely take you up on that offer, kiddo,” he said, grinning. 

Chris, who was far too focused on the fight to acknowledge them, kept his gaze on the fighters, his little fingers drumming lightly on the seat. “Lena’s gonna knock her out in the second round,” he said, voice full of certainty.

“I’ll be rooting for her,” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “But, uh…when do the real punches start?”

Eddie snorted. “He just told you.”

“I know, but I like hearing him explain it again,” he retorted, his grin widening. “It’s like a crash course in fighting.”

Chris continued to give them updates, explaining the nuances of the fight as Lena and her opponent exchanged punches in the ring. He pointed out every move, every strategy, and the way Lena was dodging and countering. He would yell at the fighters and groan with the crowd when the ref called a foul. The more Chris spoke, the more Eddie and Buck found it impossible to keep from laughing fondly, and soon, they were both grinning at each other and trying to stifle laughs so hard that they nearly missed the moment Lena landed a clean punch to her opponent’s jaw.

Chris jumped out of his seat, fists in the air. “Yes! See? I told you!” He turned to Buck, looking utterly pleased with himself. “Told you she could do it! She’s gonna win!”

He and Eddie exchanged another amused glance, both of them grateful for the humour that came with spending time together as a family. As Lena’s fight continued, with Chris explaining every move and Buck pretending to not know anything at all, they settled into a rhythm of easy laughter and light-hearted banter. 

**

The air in the hallways outside the locker rooms was filled with the usual buzz of post-fight excitement: the sounds of congratulatory slaps on the back, shuffling footsteps, and the low hum of voices. Chris was leading the charge toward the locker rooms, a huge grin plastered across his face.

“I knew she’d win,” he said, his voice a little too loud as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “I knew she could do it!” He looked over at them, his eyes wide with excitement, gloating. “Did you see that punch in the second round? Totally called it!”

He gave him an amused look. “She was amazing. You totally called it.”

Eddie, trailing just behind them with his hands stuffed into his pockets, smiled softly, letting his son lead the way. Chris had been on cloud nine the entire evening, and there was no dampening his excitement now that Lena had won.

When they reached the locker room door, Chris didn’t hesitate – he pushed it open and darted inside, shouting Lena’s name before he’d even crossed the threshold. “Lena! You were amazing! I knew you’d win!”

Lena, dripping with sweat and still in her gear, was sitting on a bench in front of her locker, a towel draped around her shoulders. She looked up at the sound of her name and the familiar howls of Chris’ voice and grinned. She stood up and met him halfway, lifting him into the air with a one-armed hug.

“You did great, Lena!” he cheered, bouncing out of her arms as soon as she put him down. “I told them you’d win. I was like, ‘No way she’s losing!’” 

She ruffled his hair affectionately, chucking at his boundless enthusiasm. “You’ve got more faith in me than I do sometimes, kiddo. Thanks, though,” she said, her eyes twinkling with pride.

Eddie walked over to her, giving her a quick, easy elbow bump. “Not bad for an old pro,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

She grinned and raised her fist, giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. “Watch it, Diaz,” she said, her voice mock-serious, but the glint in her eyes gave away her amusement. “You’re lucky I just got out of the ring, or I’d show you how it’s done.” Before Eddie could respond, she playfully shoved him backwards, sending him stumbling a couple of steps. “I swear, every time you think you’ve got a joke, you end up embarrassing yourself.”

He laughed, but he didn’t let it slide. He stepped back toward her and nudged her in return, prompting a good-natured shoving match that turned into a quick, gentle play fight. They both laughed as he gave a half-hearted attempt at a retaliatory move, which she easily dodged.

Buck, watching from the doorway, couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was really nice to see this playful side of his boyfriend as he and Lena bickered like siblings who knew exactly how to get under each other’s skin.

Chris was still bouncing around with excitement, cheering on the fight. “Get him, Lena!”

Eddie, now in the middle of a gentle headlock, shot a mock glare at his son. “Hold up, wait a minute,” he said, feigning hurt. “You’re cheering her on and not me? Your own dad!”

Chris, undeterred by the playful accusation, crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave his dad a stern look. “Lena’s cool.”

She laughed at that and turned to Chris with a grin, letting go of Eddie’s head. He pretended to be deeply wounded, clutching his chest as if Chris had dealt a blow to his ego.

“Thanks a lot, kid,” he muttered, though the grin he was hiding made it obvious he was enjoying every second of it.

Buck chuckled, shaking his head at the whole scene. He was standing back, hands tucked into his pockets. Lena looked over at him then.

“Thanks for coming. It’s nice to finally meet you properly.” She stepped forward and extended her hand to him, a friendly, welcoming gesture. “I’ve heard a lot about it.”

He smiled, a little shy but flattered by the kind words. He shook her hand with a firm grip. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. You were incredible out there.” He gestured to the ring, still buzzing with energy from the fight. “Chris wasn’t lying when he said you were ruthless. And Eddie’s sung your praises many times too.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well, Eddie’s been talking about you for moths,” she teased, her tone playful. “Not that I’m complaining – I like that he’s happy, but man, I had to start putting my headphones on full volume at the gym just to get some peace and quiet. I even walked away and every time I came back, he was still going on.”

Eddie’s face immediately flushed bright red, and he let out a groan of embarrassment, throwing his hands up in the air. “Lena,” he said, completely flustered. “It wasn’t that bad!”

She grinned at Buck, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “It definitely was.” She winked at him. “I still remember that time he was on the treadmill and got a message from-“

“Shut up!” Eddie yelled, absolutely mortified, and shoved at her playfully. His voice was a little sharper than usual, though there was no malice in it. He instantly tried to wrangle her into a headlock in retaliation, but she easily dodged the attempt.

Buck chuckled, his heart clenching as he watched them in the middle of their playful scuffle. They were laughing so freely, so completely at ease with each other – mock punches and jostling, no real harm, just pure, effortless fun. Lena managed to dodge every one of Eddie’s half-hearted attempts to get her in a headlock, teasing him with a well-timed spin that made him lose his balance. Chris was on the bench, cheering them on with the enthusiasm of a sports commentator.

It was a moment that he wished he could capture forever – the joy, the laughter, the carefree energy between them all. This was the kind of picture he loved. The kind of image that was full of warmth and life. He could already see it in his mind’s eye: the way the light from the overhead fluorescents caught Eddie’s laughter as it danced across his face, the way Lena’s playful grin was wide and genuine, and Chris in the background, his eyes shining with excitement. It would be a perfect shot, a perfect moment to immortalise. 

He didn’t have his camera with him, of course – they weren’t allowed in the building – but in that brief, perfect instant, he wished he did. He could picture the frame hanging somewhere in his apartment, a reminder of this evening, of this feeling – of the warmth of these simple moments.

But then, as if summoned by his thoughts, Eddie’s words echoed in his mind: “Sometimes you’ve gotta just live in the moment, Buck. Experience it rather than watch it.”

His gaze softened, and he let out a slow breath, his eyes never leaving the scene in front of him. The familiar urge to capture the beauty of the world around him and hold onto it forever tugged fiercely. It was what he did, what he had always done. But then the words settled in, and he felt something shift inside him. Maybe Eddie was right.

He had spent so much of his life through a lens – seeing the world through the viewfinder, isolating moments and freezing them in time – but maybe there was something even more special about letting it flow, letting it just be. He didn’t need to frame this, didn’t need to immortalise it on film. The memory would be enough. The feeling of it – how this moment made him feel – would stay with him.

He let the smile on his face deepen as he watched Eddie now try to wrestle Lena to the ground, and Chris laughing uncontrollably, egging them on. He let the laughter fill his chest, the warmth of it settling in. And he realised - 

He didn’t want to just capture Eddie and Chris’ beauty. He also wanted to experience it. Be a part of it.

No camera, no lens, just him, Eddie, and Chris – living in all the beautiful, imperfect moments of family and joy.

He deserved that.

----------

The small café was cosy and dimly lit, the kind of place where the chatter of other patrons faded into the background, leaving only the soft hum of music and the clinking of coffee cups. It was the same café Buck had taken Eddie to after that phone call with his mother – so long ago it felt hazy. They had settled into a booth at the back, each with a warm drink in hand after a long shoot. It was one of the rare quiet evenings where there was no rush – just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company.

Buck leaned back against the cushions, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his coffee cup, eyes flitting over the menu in front of him. Eddie, across the table, was reading his own menu but kept sneaking glances at him, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“So,” he started, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “I was thinking we could try that new place next weekend. The one with the rooftop view? I think Chris would love it.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “You want to bring Chris to date night?”

He nodded. “Yeah? You can’t get childcare, right? Why not just bring him with us?”

Eddie paused.

“I mean,” he continued, placing down his menu. “If you think the rooftop view might be a little too ‘datey’ then we could always catch a movie or something. Maybe the aquarium?”

Eddie’s lips twitched, his heart lurching as he processed his words, placing a hand on top of his and sending him a soft smile. “Anything we do with you will be perfect.”

He returned the grin as his phone buzzed from where it sat on the table, and he quickly grabbed it. He glanced at the screen, caught up in reading the message. He let out a quiet snort of laughter, a sound that caught Eddie’s attention. He looked up, half-amused and half-curious.

“What’s so funny?”

He shook his head, still smiling. He turned his phone around to show him the text message from Shannon.

If he tells you he can bake it’s a LIE. He used garlic powder instead of ginger for pumpkin pie. AND left the metal spoon in the pan when he put it in the oven. Also, Chris isn’t exaggerating – he burnt spaghetti so badly we had to order pizza on our fourth date

Eddie blinked, his face flushing. “Oh god, she’s still holding onto that?”

He snorted again, shaking his head, trying to stifle his laughter. “I mean, I didn’t even know you could burn spaghetti. And garlic, really?”

Eddie groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, but there was an unmistakable chuckle in his voice. “I was young, okay? I didn’t exactly know the difference between cooking and shoving stuff in a pan.” He gave him a mock glare. “I’m not proud of it.”

His grin only widened. “I’ll always choose Chris as my sous chef, just so you know.”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, don’t worry. I know.”

They placed their order with the waiter who checked up on them and then Eddie paused, suddenly curious.

“Wait, you two message each other?”

He looked at him, a little surprised by the question. “Yeah, actually, we’ve been talking pretty often the last few weeks. Just random stuff, nothing serious. She’s been…nice about everything, you know? We mainly talk about you and Chris. But she’s started this crochet class that she’s enjoying.”

Eddie blinked, his eyebrows furrowing as he processed it. 

He immediately felt the shift in Eddie’s demeanour and his heart skipped a beat. “It’s not weird, right?” he asked quickly, his tone a little uncertain. “I just – if you don’t like it, I can-“

Eddie quickly held up a hand, his expression softening as he reached across the table to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “No, no, it’s okay,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s a good thing, Buck.”

He stared at him for a moment. “Really? You’re okay with it?”

Eddie laughed softly, stroking his thumb over his knuckles. “Of course. I always knew you two would get along. It’s okay.”

He couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief, the tension in his shoulders easing. He gave him a small, grateful smile. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure. I didn’t want you to think I was overstepping or anything.”

Eddie shook his head. “You’re never overstepping, Buck. You never could. You’re mine and Chris’ family just as much as she is. Shannon was actually more worried about living up to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Evan. You,” he said and then grinned. “She might be his mother but you’re our Buck.” 

He took a breath, tightening his grip around Eddie’s fingers. 

“You’re not just part of our world, Buck,” he finalised, holding his gaze steady as he leaned in and hooked a foot around his ankle. “You are our world.”

----------

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the beach as the waves gently lapped at the shore. The scent of saltwater mixed with the fresh breeze filled the air with the promise of summer and easy days. The sounds of laughter rang out as Buck, Eddie, Christopher, and Shannon all enjoyed the perfect afternoon together. 

Buck was sat cross-legged, his sunglasses pushed back to keep his hair out of his face, and sand sticking to the edges of his shorts. Christopher, with his small plastic shovel in hand, was determinedly piling sand into a mound. Buck was right beside him, showing him how to carefully pack the sand into little castles.

“You know, Chris,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially as he sculpted the base of their sandcastle. “The ocean is full of creatures that live in the deepest parts of the sea. Some of them can glow in the dark! Like jellyfish!”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Really?” he asked, looking up at him with wonder. “Do you think we could see one if we went out far enough?”

He chuckled, adjusting the small blue bucket in his hands so Chris could keep adding sand. “Maybe!” he said with a smile. “Some fish can even change colours, like chameleons. Pretty cool, huh?”

“It’s like they’re magic,” Christopher said in awe, patting down their haul.

“Because they are,” he agreed, turning his head to smile at Eddie, who was lounging back on his towel nearby, watching them with an amused grin. “Maybe we’ll even see a mermaid!”

Eddie watched them fondly, the two of them so in sync, so natural together. Chris had immediately accepted Buck into their family, not blinking twice when he had told him that they were dating two weeks ago. He asked if that meant that Buck would always take him to the zoo. Yes, yes he would. It was clear that Chris looked up to him and adored him. 

Shannon, who had been lounging beside him on her own towel, noticed the look in his eyes and nudged him gently with her knee. “You okay?” she asked, a soft smile on her lips.

He nodded, though he didn’t take his eyes away. “Yeah. Just…it’s nice seeing them like this,” he murmured. 

She leaned back on her elbows, watching the scene with a fond glint in her eye. “Buck’s great. I couldn’t have found a better second dad for him if I tried.”

He felt his heart flutter at her words; he didn’t fight it – he didn’t even want to. Because she was right. In so many ways, Buck was becoming a second father to Christopher. He had been there for him in ways he never expected, and not just as a friend, but as a father figure when Eddie couldn’t be there due to a shoot. Whether it was helping him with his homework, tucking him into bed, or giving him advice, Buck was always present, always steady.

He looked at Shannon, searching her expression, and saw no resentment there. She was genuinely happy for Christopher, for their little family. He let out a breath, feeling a sense of peace wash over him.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “He is.”

Shannon smiled. “I’m really glad you’ve got someone like him in your life, Eddie,” she said, the words as much for herself as for him. “You both deserve it.”

He nodded, his gaze turning back to his favourite boys. Buck was now lying on his stomach, making intricate patterns in the sand beside Christopher’s growing castle. He looked so at ease, so naturally in place in the world. He was an angel walking on earth. A breath of fresh air in the morning. If he was Buck’s muse, then Buck was passion itself. 

“You’ve come a long way, you know that?” Shannon continued, breaking through his thoughts. “From the guy who used to fight tooth and nail to keep everyone at arm’s length. I’m really proud of you.”

He smiled at her. “I didn’t do it alone,” he said, glancing at Christopher. “Our son taught me that.”

It was true. He had changed. He had grown into a better version of himself by navigating fatherhood and learning from his son how to find happiness in the world again. He could open up to Buck and didn’t fear letting people into his life, especially Christopher’s life. Because when it came down to it, it was about what was best for Chris. But also for himself. And Buck, no matter how uncertain he had been at first, was undeniably part of that equation.

“I think I’m starting to realise that everything that happened, all the bad stuff,” he admitted. “It brought me here. To this moment.”

Shannon’s smile grew. “I think you’re right.”

Across the sand, Buck had turned his attention back to Eddie, a wide grin on his face as he wiggled his fingers to Christopher’s sandcastle. Chris clapped his hands, laughing in delight. Buck’s joy was infectious – he was so proud of their creation. He chuckled under his breath. 

He looked back at Shannon, who had been watching him, and she nodded toward Buck. “You don’t have to say anything, Eddie,” she said softly, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Just…let it be. Let him be.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. He knew. He didn’t need to say it out loud. This was right. It felt right. And it hit him then that he knew he didn’t have to worry about who would be there for Christopher because Buck was already there. And Shannon was back in the picture, trying, and being a good mother.

“I’m gonna marry him one day,” he confessed to her. “Make sure I’m a better husband this time.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “You were a good husband. You just had the wrong partner.”

He sent her a grateful smile and as he stood up, she followed, and together they walked over to where Buck and Chris were. 

Shannon knelt beside Christopher, ruffling his hair affectionately. “You’re doing a great job, Chris,” she said, smiling proudly at her son’s creation.

Christopher beamed. “Look, Dad! Look at our castle! And Buck taught me all about the fish!”

Buck, grinning from ear to ear, placed another shell into the walls of the castle. “What can I say? I’m a wealth of knowledge,” he said with a wink, and Eddie laughed.

“You’ve definitely made an impression on him,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Buck gave him a soft smile, one that said everything without needing words. It was easy to forget, sometimes, how far they’d come from those early days when he had been closed off, afraid to let anyone in. But now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be here, to be part of this moment – together. 

“Hey, Eds,” Buck said, nudging him lightly. “You want to help me decorate the moat?”

“You’re actually making a moat?” he mused, raising his eyebrow teasingly as he let his hand rest on his boyfriend’s side.

Buck grinned. “Well, you can’t have a sandcastle without one, can you?”

He laughed, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time. “Lead the way, partner.”

As he knelt beside him to help finish the sandcastle, the sound of waves crashing in the distance, and Christopher’s laughter filling the air, he knew that he had to go through all the shit he did to get to this moment. And he wouldn’t change a single damn thing. 

----------

The morning light was soft, warm, creeping through the blinds of Buck’s apartment and spilling across the bed in golden rays. The air was cool and fresh, and a slight breeze came through the open window, but their skin still burned as they caught their breath. 

Buck, recovering first, rolled over to grab something from underneath the bed. With his camera in hand, he quietly clicked away as he studied Eddie, who was lying next to him, still blissed out with his face nestled into the pillow. He was caught in the soft, dappled sunlight that painted him in the most perfect light. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes still heavy with desire, but that smile – that smile – was already tugging at the corners of his lips.

He couldn’t help it. He raised the camera again, snapping another shot, and then another, his heart fluttering every time Eddie looked at him. Every time the shutter clicked, it felt like another piece of his world was falling into place.

Eddie shifted, his eyes slowly cracking open as he noticed him hovering over him with the camera. He laughed softly, a lazy but amused sound. “You’re seriously taking pictures of me right now?” he asked, his voice rough from being overused, but the humour was still there.

He grinned, rolled over to straddle him, held the camera to his face, and clicked off another shot. “Why not? You look gorgeous, as always.” His tone was light, teasing, but it was honest.

Eddie stretched his arms, the sheets sliding down his chest as he squirmed under his legs. He laughed again, glancing at him with a playful glint in his eyes. “Didn’t you take enough during?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“The campaign’s over, you know. You don’t have to keep taking pictures of me anymore.”

He smirked and clicked another picture, his head tilted and his eyes soft. “These ones are just for me,” he replied, his voice softer this time, more serious. “I’ll always take pictures of you, Eddie. You’re my muse. I want to capture every part of you.”

Eddie’s body relaxed at the words, the heat of their bodies melding into one as he brought his hands up to trace patterns into Buck’s sides. The morning sunlight gleamed even brighter as if it was highlighting not just Eddie’s face for another photo but the intimacy they shared, the bond that had deepened into something undeniable. 

He pushed the camera away gently and pulled Buck closer, kissing him – soft, tender, a brief kiss that lingered just long enough to stir some excitement. 

“Well, good thing I’m going to be around a lot more,” he teased, his lips brushing Buck’s again as he spoke between kissed. “Especially now I’m a permanent member of the 118.”

Buck chuckled and kissed him again, just a quick brush of their lips. “I’m definitely looking forward to it,” he murmured. “Maybe I can convince Bobby to do a campaign of nothing but photos of you.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re impossible,” he said, but he was smiling, twisting Buck’s curls between his fingers. “I love you.”

Buck’s smile grew impossibly wide. “I love you too.”

After a few more moments, Buck couldn’t resist anymore. He jumped out of bed, holding the camera tightly in his hands.

“I need to get these on my computer,” he said, his excitement contagious. “I want to see them right now.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes again, but followed him to the living room, unable to suppress the smile on his face as he grabbed his pants from the floor and pulled them on. “So impatient, I don’t how you lasted so long without kissing me,” he joked affectionately as he walked behind him to the small studio space.

Buck headed for the desk, plugging the camera into his computer. As the photos began to load onto the screen, he couldn’t help but smile at what he saw – Eddie, looking effortlessly gorgeous, caught in the perfect moments.

Eddie glanced around the studio, taking in the new details since he hadn’t been there in a couple of months. It was a cosy, eclectic mix of personal touches – postcards, plants, and little mementos scattered around. But what caught his eye was the wall near his desk – the one reserved for personal moments. Framed photos, carefully arranged, each capturing a different moment of laughter and joy. But what short-wired his brain was the pictures of Christopher – the edits of him being chased by dinosaurs, of him and Eddie smiling at the zoo, of him slung over his shoulders with a proud grin, and of him holding one of Buck’s cameras taking pictures of the flowers in a field.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart suddenly swelling with emotion. Warmth surged through him, a quiet kind of pride mingling with a soft adoration as he turned away and glanced at the wall that framed the most inspirational shots. 
 

There, right underneath the clock on the wall, was a photo that wasn’t there before. One that had made the previously empty spot its home. He walked closer, his heart beating a little faster as Buck followed him with his eyes, his curiosity piqued. 

The photo was framed simply, showing the two of them standing close together in Buck’s kitchen, arms wrapped around each other, faces soft with tenderness. It was from the night of their first kiss, the moment they had both been too scared to acknowledge fully earlier that day, but now, looking at it, he saw just how obvious they had been all along. He saw how much Buck had changed everything.

His fingers trailed over the glass, his touch gentle and reverent. “Buck,” he said, his voice low. “This…I didn’t know you had this.” His fingers lingered, and then his hand rested against the photo, like he was trying to hold onto the moment forever.

Buck stood behind him, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck. “There’s no better place for it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against Eddie’s skin. “You made me realise my worth that night, Eddie. Well before the kiss, which only made it better. It was the first time I’ve ever truly felt like I belong somewhere. With you. With us.”

He turned in Buck’s arms, his expression tender and full of affection. He cupped his face in his hands, thumbs brushing the stubble along his jawline. “You belong with me, Buck. You always have,” he said. “I’m never going to let you go.”

Buck’s heart swelled. The words felt like everything he had ever needed to hear, felt like a promise. They were in this together, for real now. Now just for the moment, but for the rest of their lives.

Eddie leaned and kissed him, deeply this time, a kiss that spoke of everything they had shared, and everything they still had ahead of them. Buck kissed him back, his arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as if to make sure he was never far away again.

And then, with the photograph of their first kiss hanging on the wall as a reminder, they both knew that no matter what came next, they would always have each other. They would face the good, the bad, and everything in between, together. 

And for the first time for both of them, they knew they had found exactly where they belonged. Right here. With each other. Always.