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It’s still two weeks before Eddie comes back to the 118, and Buck is having one of the worst shifts he’s had all year. The two things aren’t exactly related, because the shift would be bad either way - and honestly, maybe Buck is glad, deep down, that Eddie’s not here to have to deal with this when he already has enough on his plate. Still, the selfish part of Buck does wish Eddie was here, because it’s always easier when Eddie is here. They can sit shoulder to shoulder in the fire truck, and go fall onto the couch in the loft together, taking comfort in closeness, and for once no one can tease them about it.
Without Eddie - Bobby still makes coffee, and everyone huddles, quiet, around the counter, and Chim pats Buck on the shoulder, letting his hand linger for a moment. They all know how to be there for each other, now, and Buck is grateful for that.
But the shift drags on. There’s another rough call, a major collision with multiple cars, and it’s dark and rainy and Buck is cold and damp and sore when they finally make it back to the station again. He wants to go home and sleep for a week, but just the thought of his big, empty loft makes him feel colder, another shiver making his teeth click together.
If Eddie were here, Buck could give him a look, and Eddie would nod, and they could both go back to his place. They’d make some tea and cover the couch in blankets. At the end of a late shift like this, Christopher would either be in bed or at Pepa’s, but in the morning, they could all make breakfast together and the sun would come in through the kitchen windows and everything would be warm, and Buck would be able to remember there are good things in the world.
But Eddie isn’t here. There’s a hollow ache in the middle of Buck’s chest, and even when he takes a warm shower at the station, he still feels chilly, and his leg is still aching.
With just another hour or two left in the shift, he breaks down and texts Eddie.
any chance you’re still up?
Since he’s still working his notice at Dispatch, Eddie’s on a pretty regular schedule. He gets up in the mornings, and tries to get to sleep at a reasonable time so he won’t be exhausted every day. Buck knows all of this. But - sometimes nightmares or just bad thoughts will keep Eddie up, and they end up texting into the night. Buck is usually coming off shift or lying awake in the bunk room, or even sometimes lying awake in his loft, up for the same reasons as Eddie.
Ten minutes pass after his text, then twenty, then thirty, and Buck has to face the reality that Eddie’s already asleep tonight. The ache in his chest grows, surges up into the back of his throat - but he just gets frustrated with himself. There’s no way Eddie could have known Buck would have a bad shift - they can’t actually read each other’s minds, and it’s silly that Buck expected to be able to get in touch with him this late.
He’ll just have to go back to the loft and crawl into bed and hope he feels better in the morning.
B-shift comes in about thirty minutes early - Bobby won’t admit that he called them in, but everyone’s grateful all the same. The locker room is quiet, but everyone sticks close, silently bumping shoulders or patting each other on the back as they head home.
Chim is the one to break the silence. He walks over to Buck, head tilted to one side. “You know, I was gonna go pick up Jee from your sister’s, if you wanted to come.”
It’s a nice offer - but Buck feels sharp and jagged around the edges, too messy to be useful as a babysitter just now. “Thanks,” he says with a shake of his head, “But, uh - I think I’m just gonna head home and sleep it off. I appreciate it, though.”
His frown deepens, and his brow furrows, but Chim nods. “Alright. Just - take care of yourself, Buckaroo.”
Buck manages something a little closer to a smile, but feels a little relieved when Chim turns away and he can let it drop, again.
He doesn’t want to burden anybody else with the dark cloud over his head right now. It’s probably for the best that Eddie didn’t text him back.
The traffic is light on the drive home, and Buck can feel himself crashing as he finally pulls into his parking spot and heads up the elevator to the loft. He leans against the cold metal of the wall on the way up, and forces himself to stagger out when the doors open.
It takes him a few tries to get his key in the lock, and his own door open, so maybe it’s not a surprise that he’s got his hand on the light switch before he realizes the lights are already on.
He freezes in place. Then, things start to filter in - the television is on, under the stairs, and he can smell food in the kitchen. Someone’s closing a drawer, and someone laughs on TV, and Buck slowly lowers his hand and shakes his head - and then Eddie steps in front of him.
“Rough shift?” Eddie says, reaching out to take Buck’s bag from his arm.
Buck blinks at him, and hands it over. “Uh - yeah. You-”
“I got your text but - Chris and I were up late working on a project, so by the time I would have responded, I figured you’d be busy. Came over to check on you-”
“But I wasn’t home yet,” Buck finishes, still a little breathless with surprise.
“Hi Buck!” Chris calls from the couch. Buck looks over, and sees him dangling his head upside down over the armrest, waving as he does.
He smiles, genuinely, unable to stop it. “Hey, Chris.”
“I brought you leftovers, they’re in the kitchen,” Eddie tells him, patting him on the shoulder. “We already had dinner, obviously, so - it’s nothing fancy, just some spaghetti. Wasn’t exactly making it to impress anybody.”
“I made the garlic bread,” Chris calls out. “We put it in the oven to keep it warm.”
That explains the smell. Buck breathes in, and realizes the ache in his chest is gone. His loft is warm, and bright, and feels like home. He knows why - knows it has nothing to do with his apartment and everything to do with the people in it, but he’s grateful all the same.
Eddie’s back in the kitchen, now, standing at the stove, probably keeping the spaghetti from sticking to the pot. Half-drunk from exhaustion and completely overwhelmed with gratitude that has nowhere to go, Buck can’t stop himself from walking over and leaning against Eddie’s back, pulling him into a hug from behind.
He presses his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder blade, and stays there for a moment. “Thank you,” he says quietly, whispered into the fabric of Eddie’s shirt.
For a moment, Eddie tenses - but he relaxes again in stages, starting with his shoulders, so Buck’s head has a more comfortable place to rest. Then, he reaches up and places his hand on top of one of Buck’s, patting at it clumsily. “It’s not a problem, Buck.”
“But you didn’t have to.”
“And you don’t have to take my kid to the zoo every weekend, or help me patch up my house when I tear it apart, but here we are.”
Buck huffs out a laugh. “I guess that’s fair.”
“I told Chris he could stay up til you got home, especially since it’s a weekend, but I think once you eat, we should probably set up the air mattress.”
Buck lifts his head off of Eddie’s shoulder and frowns. “Are you sure you don’t wanna put him in my bed? Or - we could go back to yours-”
“Are you kidding me? He loves that thing. He may not be young enough to think it’s magic anymore, but when I suggested we come over here, he was the one who wanted to spend the night.” Eddie lowers his voice and ducks his head in close to Buck’s - which puts them very, very close, but it’s still comfortable, somehow. “I think he still thinks he’s being sneaky when he puts your TV on mute and turns it on once you’re upstairs for the night.”
When he laughs, Buck’s forehead bumps up against Eddie’s temple, and they both linger there for a moment.
Then Chris calls out, “Dad, can I have some garlic bread if Buck doesn’t eat it all?”
Eddie grins, the corner of his eye crinkling up right under Buck’s nose, and then he finally turns his head back towards Chris to call back, “No, mijo. If there’s some left you can have it tomorrow, alright?”
“Uggghhhhh, fine.”
They both laugh at that, and Buck finally steps back, reluctantly letting go of Eddie’s waist as he moves away. “I’m gonna go change, since I clearly missed the pajama party memo.”
Eddie nods and smiles back at him. “I’ll get your food on a plate for when you come back down.”
Buck nods, and slowly backs away, still watching Eddie, reluctant to let him out of his sight, feeling a little like he might disappear. Eddie turns over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Buck, and Buck just smiles back at him, helpless to do anything else. He keeps walking backwards to keep eye contact until he trips over the bottom stair and nearly tumbles over, windmilling his arms to stay upright, prompting both Eddie and Chris to start laughing at him. Buck laughs at himself, too - the last thing he sees, before he turns around, is the flush in Eddie’s cheeks and the sparkle in his eyes as he shakes his head.
Once he’s alone in his bathroom, Buck takes a moment to breathe and check in with himself. He hasn’t forgotten the day he had, but it seems distant now, far away from the safe little pocket Eddie and Chris have built in his living room. It’s a relief to have a distraction, and a reason to put all the hurt away until he can process it better - maybe with Eddie, later, or else he’ll forget about it for a few days until it comes back to haunt him.
He changes into his pajamas quickly and jogs back down the stairs. The air mattress is out by the couch now, and slowly inflating. Chris is still on the couch, clearly starting to drift a little as he watches TV, and Eddie is leaning against the counter, watching him. Once Buck steps around the air mattress, Eddie hears him and turns, still smiling just as softly as he was watching Chris.
It stops Buck in his tracks, actually, that same, familiar, expression leveled at him. He flusters, and ducks his head, and smiles, not exactly trying to hide it, but not sure he wants to meet Eddie’s eyes with it, either.
“So what was this project you guys were working on?” Buck asks, as he finally settles in the seat right in front of his food. Eddie really has plated it all up for him, complete with a beer, and Buck feels really, truly taken care of in a way he hasn’t in years and years.
And it’s not because anyone had to, either - Buck’s not hurt, and unable to take care of himself. Eddie just wanted to do this. Did all of it, without being asked. Thankfully, just as Buck starts to get overwhelmed by that, Eddie comes to sit down with him and answers his question.
“It’s a diorama for history class. He had to pick a specific time and place and do a visual representation. He picked Ancient Egypt, so we got to make a little miniature version of the inside of a pyramid.”
“We made a mummy,” Chris says, sitting in the middle of the air mattress, now, as it inflates.
“Like a tiny one?” Buck asks, trying not to talk with his mouth full. “How’d you guys make it?”
“Dad found an action figure, and then we cut it open and then wrapped it up in bandages. It didn’t have any organs, but we put little pieces in the little jars anyways.”
Buck snorts, and almost does a spit take, drinking his beer.
Eddie grins.
“That’s really cool, Chris,” Buck says, trying not to choke on his own laughter.
“Yeah,” Chris says, with a sly grin and a nod. “We made a sarcophagus, too.”
Buck mostly listens, as he eats, as Chris talks about making the pyramid bricks out of clay, painting the sarcophagus, and covering the bottom of the diorama with sand. Once the air mattress is full, Eddie goes over and nudges Chris off of it so they can put the bedding on. Chris holds onto one corner while Eddie actually pulls it over the mattress, and Buck just watches them fondly from his seat at the counter.
Once everything is set up, Christopher flops onto the mattress, obviously worn out, and Eddie laughs a little.
“You tired, bud?”
“No,” Chris insists, though it’s muffled into the pillows.
“Well I am,” Buck admits, standing up from his seat. He’s finished his food, and he yawns theatrically as he goes to put his plate in the sink. Ironically, though, as he turns back around, it turns into a real yawn, and he presses the back of his hand over his mouth. “It was a long day for me, and I think I’ve gotta go to bed.” He walks over to Chris, and leans down to ruffle his hair. “Don’t stay up too late watching TV, yeah? Your Dad and I are still gonna get you up in the morning to eat breakfast and maybe do something fun.”
Chris wrinkles his nose, but he’s still smiling. “Okay, Buck.”
“I did say we could go to the zoo if you finished your project,” Eddie tacks on. “As long as you’re not too tired tomorrow.”
Chris closes his eyes, and pulls the blanket over his head, very quickly pretending he’s already sleeping.
Barely suppressing a laugh, Buck looks up and meets Eddie’s eyes, and they both shake their heads before Buck goes to turn out the light.
“Goodnight, Superman,” Eddie calls - and Chris snores, loudly, making Eddie smile even wider.
When he turns towards the stairs, he’s surprised to see Eddie right there beside him, matching him step for step. He pauses for just a moment, and Eddie catches it.
They quickly have a silent conversation. Eddie raises his eyebrows and nods upstairs, towards the bed. To be fair - the few times Christopher has slept over at Buck’s, usually Eddie’s been on shift, or dealing with something else. They’ve never all been here together, overnight. Buck also knows from in-depth personal experience that his couch isn’t very comfortable to sleep on.
Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve shared Buck’s bed.
He nods, and tugs just once at Eddie’s sleeve before he heads up the stairs.
Buck steps into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and Eddie follows him in, just leaning against the counter, watching him.
“So do you want to talk about how you clearly had the shift from hell?” Eddie asks. His tone is gentle, though, rather than sharp - still just as soft around the edges as it’s been all evening.
“Did I say that?” Buck asks around his toothbrush.
Eddie snorts. “You didn’t have to. Your leg’s obviously hurting you, and I saw you when you came in. I’m not gonna make you talk about it, but you don’t have to pretend like you’re fine.”
“I am fine, now,” Buck says, before rinsing out his mouth. He spits in the sink, and when he lifts his head back up, he catches Eddie’s unimpressed stare in the mirror. He winces a little, and shrugs one shoulder. “Mostly,” he tacks on.
“Alright,” Eddie says, shrugging as he steps out of the bathroom. Buck follows him, and they both climb into the bed. Buck turns off his lamp, and they’re left with the quiet, and the moonlight coming in from the windows.
“Thank you, again,” Buck says up to the ceiling, instead of bringing up what happened on shift. “I know I said it already-”
“And I told you that you didn’t have to,” Eddie says, turning onto his side to face Buck. “You’ve taken care of me more times than I can count, Buck, the least I can do is pay you back a little.”
“Are you kidding?” Buck asks, rolling onto his side to match Eddie. There’s still a foot of space between them, but either of them could reach out and close it, easily. Instead, Buck just rests his hand in that empty space, using it to emphasize his point. “Eddie, I feel like all you guys ever do is take care of me-”
“Is that what’s happening when you make us pancakes practically every weekend? Or - live at my house for a month after I get shot? Or show up in the middle of the night just because Christopher calls you?”
“I just mean-” Buck chokes a little on his words, shocked by Eddie’s ability to reference two different things they barely talk about in one sentence. “I mean - you shouldn’t have to take care of me at all.”
“And what if I like it?”
Buck blinks, finding Eddie’s eyes in the darkness. “What?”
“What if I like taking care of you, Buck?”
“Um,” Buck says, feeling warmth rush across his face.
Eddie’s knuckles bump up against his hand, and then he tangles their fingers together, holding on tightly. “I’m supposed to have your back, too. It’s supposed to be a two way street.”
“It is,” Buck says, trying to swallow down every complicated feeling clawing its way up out of his throat. “Even if - I mean, just getting to spend time with you guys is enough for me-”
“You deserve to have somebody take care of you, Buck,” Eddie says, firmly enough to cut him off. “I know you’ve got your sister, and you had Taylor-”
Buck snorts, unable to stop himself. “I wouldn’t call what Taylor did taking care of me.”
The grip Eddie has on Buck’s hand tightens for a moment. Then, he scoots in closer, until their knees are bumping, and Buck has no choice but to meet Eddie’s eyes again. “Then I won’t feel bad about saying I think I can do a better job.”
“Eddie?” Buck says, awkwardly high-pitched and completely uncertain.
“This isn’t why I came over here tonight,” Eddie tells him, glancing down at their hands, still tangled and resting on the mattress.
“Okay, but-”
“But,” Eddie says. “Uh- I know maybe it’s a little soon, after the break up-”
“ Eddie ,” Buck says again, quiet and breathless.
“Right. Well if you would be interested in uh - filling that position, again, sometime soon-”
Buck laughs, trying to hide it in his pillow, pressing his face against it but still squinting one eye open to see the adorably frustrated look on Eddie’s face - the way his brow is furrowed even while his face has gone all pink. “How are you so bad at this?”
“You think this is bad? You should hear the speech I gave Shannon when I tried to re-propose,” Eddie tells him, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
Slowly, Buck stops laughing and turns to face Eddie again.
“Not that - this is - I mean, we should probably date before I propose.”
An unstoppable grin spreads over Buck’s face. “Before you propose, huh?”
“I am begging you to do anything to shut me up at this point.”
Trying to keep himself from laughing, Buck leans in closer and nudges his nose against Eddie’s. “Does this work?”
“Might if you actually kiss me,” Eddie murmurs.
“Alright,” Buck gripes, biting off a grin - but he takes a deep breath, and wets his lips, and then presses them against Eddie’s, trying to fight down the smile enough to kiss him properly.
It’s an accidental tease of a kiss. Buck brushes his lips against Eddie’s, just enough to feel him - feel the warmth of his mouth and the scratch of his stubble, and then pulls back to laugh again, breathless and half-disbelieving.
“No you don’t,” Eddie mumbles into the space between them - and then he presses forward, grabbing at the back of Buck’s neck and pulling him in again. Buck’s mouth was still parted around a laugh, so Eddie catches just Buck’s lower lip, and sucks it into his mouth, and Buck feels that all the way down to his toes. He hums into the kiss, surprised, and shifts so he can press his mouth properly against Eddie’s.
They trade slow, lingering kisses for what could be minutes or even hours, and take turns pressing their tongues into each other's mouths, licking inside just enough to taste. Buck can hear the sounds of their mouths moving together in the quiet loft, and it makes him shiver, makes him reach out and grab Eddie’s waist to pull him closer, tugging at the fabric of his shirt and curving a hand around his ribs.
Buck rolls onto his back, eventually, just to catch his breath, and tilts his head up towards the ceiling - but Eddie rolls with him, landing half on top of his chest, and starts nuzzling at his neck, kissing at his jaw and then tracing his nose against Buck’s skin until he reaches the collar of his shirt.
“Eddie,” Buck whispers.
“What? You don’t have work in the morning,” Eddie grumbles, tugging Buck’s collar out of the way and kissing at the hollow of his throat, pressing his tongue there and then sucking gently at Buck’s skin.
“No, but-” Buck shifts, catching Eddie’s jaw in his hands and tugging him back up, kissing him briefly on the mouth, pressing their swollen lips together again. “I don’t wanna wear a turtleneck to the zoo.”
Eddie grins, and rubs his nose against Buck’s. “You don’t even own a turtleneck.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I would have seen you wear it by now. Or I would have seen it in your closet.” He pushes a hand up under Buck’s shirt, and scratches his fingers over Buck’s stomach. “Plus a turtleneck isn’t gonna cover how pink your face gets.”
Eddie’s thumb shifts over his lip, where Buck knows his mouth must be raw and rubbed red, and he shivers at the feeling, the warm touch against sensitive skin.
To be fair, as Eddie hovers over him, he’s also looking pretty thoroughly kissed. His face is flushed, his mouth swollen, his eyes dark. His hair is pointing in at least six different directions, and Buck can’t help but reach up, pushing his fingers through it to tug at it gently.
“Your son is downstairs, and we have to have breakfast, and get to the zoo in time to beat the crowd. We cannot stay up all night making out like teenagers,” Buck says - but Eddie licks his lips as he’s trying to make his point, and Buck is helpless against the way his eyes track the movement.
“See, your words say one thing…” Eddie trails off, and lowers onto his elbows again, nudging their faces closer and brushing his lips just barely against Buck’s.
“That’s so not fair,” Buck mumbles - but his lips are still brushing against Eddie’s, and he can’t help but lean up to kiss him again properly, and then again, until Eddie leans closer and presses him back down against the bed.
Then, Eddie’s hand comes up to press against the center of Buck’s chest, resting right over his heart, and he pulls back. “But you did have a long day.”
“Now it matters?” Buck whines, almost forgetting to keep his voice quiet.
Laughing, Eddie brushes a thumb against Buck’s temple, then presses it just over his birthmark, like it fits there. “We’ve got plenty of time. Maybe not tonight but - other times, when Christopher will be at Pepa’s, and we’ll be on the same shift schedule again. We don’t have to get it all out of our system tonight.”
Buck scoffs. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen.”
Eddie’s brow furrows.
“Not the-” Buck pokes him, hard, in the ribs. “Eddie. C’mon. I’m never getting this out of my system. You’re - part of the system. There is no system, anymore, without you.”
“Oh,” Eddie says softly, his eyes widening. He glances over every part of Buck’s face, checking his expression, then his thumb moves gently back and forth over Buck’s temple again. “I don’t want you out of my system, either.”
“Yeah, I got that, Mr. Before-I-Propose,” Buck teases with a grin.
Groaning as quietly as he can, Eddie flops on top of Buck, pressing his face into the pillow right beside Buck’s head, their cheeks pressed together in the process. “That’s going in your wedding speech or something, isn’t it? You’re gonna tell everyone we know about that.”
Buck pushes both his hands up under Eddie’s shirt, stroking slowly over the broad expanse of his back, tracing the lines of his muscles. “Well now it has to, yeah.”
“Clearly I need to shut up and go to sleep.”
“You can say more embarrassing things tomorrow,” Buck tells him, turning his head just enough to press a kiss against his temple.
“I’m sure I will.”
Really, Buck expects Eddie to roll off of him and settle back on the other side of the bed. Instead, Eddie stays right where he is, shifting just enough to make sure their bones aren’t poking into each other in odd places, but once he’s settled into the space between Buck’s arm and his torso, and his chin is tucked into the pillow right above Buck’s collar bone, he settles.
“You comfortable?” Eddie asks him.
“Yeah,” Buck says softly, pressing one of his hands down right in the center of Eddie’s back.
“‘Kay. If you wake me up snoring I’m gonna stuff a sock in your mouth.”
Buck laughs, and turns his head just enough to nudge his nose against Eddie’s temple. “Whatever you say.”
“See you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Eddie.”
“Night, Buck.”
And it isn’t instant - but with Eddie’s breath in his ear, and Eddie’s heartbeat pressed close to his own, Buck slowly falls from a waking dream into a sleeping one.