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Eddie hasn’t been the best company since Christopher left.
Actually, that is putting it mildly.
He has been a mess ever since his son crossed the threshold of their house and followed his own parents straight to Texas to put as many miles as possible between the two of them.
He thought he was familiar with pain, but seeing his son walk away because of him has been excruciating, so he has been forced to live through this raw heartache ever since, and the only way to get through it alive has been therapy. So he has been going, diligently; twice a week for a month and then once a week, after things started to feel slightly, faintly better.
After Christopher started texting him again, actually.
He had even resorted to trying the illegal fighting ring thing all over again, to be honest, but Buck was faster than him and prevented him from even entering the goddamn building.
So, therapy it has been.
And it really helped him. Once he stopped seeing it as a chore and actually started approaching it as a chance to get better, to feel better.
Because, honestly, there have been days where Eddie doesn’t know how he even survived, so he just put his life into his therapist’s hands and went with the flow.
It’s not Frank. His name is Ben, and he’s pretty fucking awesome at his job, in Buck’s totally unbiased opinion.
Because Buck has seen so much of post-therapy Eddie to recognize progress, and Eddie has learned enough about himself to know that Buck is the only one he wants to come home to after a particularly bad, tough session.
Also, what’s even more important is that Ben has helped Eddie not to feel guilty about it.
Ben has helped Eddie accept his love for Buck, no matter how life-altering that may feel, no matter what the consequences of merely acknowledging such a thing may be.
So Eddie has learned that he fucked up big time, that he grieves a past that has never been as idyllic as he remembers it, and that he hides the love he carries for his best friend behind the idea of a perfect woman whom he should settle down and start a proper family with.
About that, he also learned that there is no need for labels and that families also do not need labels, so he just tries to remember all the new things that he has been absorbing during his new journey, hoping to eventually find his peace.
Someone who definitely has not yet found his peace is Buck, though.
Buck who has broken up with Tommy exactly three days after Christopher left and has refused to really tell Eddie the reason why, since.
Now, it’s Friday and the whole 118 A-shift is off for the next forty-eight hours, so they all decided to go out for drinks. Everyone agreed, except Eddie, who doesn’t feel like partying and doesn’t feel like betraying his own self by agreeing to something he knows he won’t enjoy.
So Buck is out with the rest of the team, and Eddie is on his couch, sipping on a particular kind of tea that Carla recommended — despite his many I’m-not-a-tea-type-of-guy protests — and he is sad that he is not spending time with Buck but he is content with his decision.
He also has a documentary about Area 51 going on because Christopher talked about it during one of their last FaceTime calls (some recent development Eddie is very grateful for) and he promised they’d talk more about it, when his phone chimes.
It’s a text from Buck. And it’s not so weird because they are used to texting every other minute but still, Buck should be enjoying himself, not texting him.
Eddfioe
I remembetred you’re so hoyt
Why aren’t yopu here?!?
Eddie spits half of the tea he had in his mouth on the coffee table, even if he will deny that until his dying breath. Then, through gritted teeth and with the hottest cheeks of L.A., tries to come up with an answer.
Are you drunk?
There, easy, useful even.
Even if, yeah, Buck is probably drunk, judging by the misspellings and the apparent lack of a brain-to-mouth (or brain-to-text) filter.
He feels stupid. He is a grown man and he’s blushing because his supposedly drunk best friend has just told him that he finds him hot.
His life is a fucking joke.
Nevert deujnk you know thaty
He snorts at the text he gets in response and for some reason, he can exactly picture the frown on Buck’s forehead while he tries to see the right letters to form the words, he can totally see the faint blush on his cheeks due to the alcohol in his veins and his eyes that starts glinting when he has had one too many.
He sighs like a lovesick fool. He feels like one. He can picture his best friend as if he were there. What’s more to say?
Another text brings him out of his reverie though.
Polasr bears are black!!!?!? BLAWCK!!’,?! Eddie
He reads it and chuckles at the umpteenth animal fact that Buck has given him since the day they met. He finds it so cute and endearing that it’s infuriating.
Black? Really?
He types back, smile so wide it can be spotted from outer space.
Nooot BLKACK EDSS
He wishes he could teleport to Buck and bring him home, but he keeps texting him anyway.
So NOT black? He sends, frowning but still unable to wipe the fond smile off his face.
He thinks that he should probably call Chimney, Hen, Maddie, or Karen but then he remembers that given that they are all there, Buck must be safe with them, there’s no need to make a fool of himself. Even if he would lie if he said he isn’t worrying about his best friend being so drunk and God knows where.
Actually, he knows where they went. He just wishes he had his eyes on Buck while he patiently waits for the next text, sure that it’ll come.
And it does. Some minutes later.
Apparently, polar bears are out now.
Are we coiwqsa,,?.!?
Eddie actually can’t decipher this one.
What? He sends back, amused.
Cped Edds
Cpws
COWAS
Eddie honestly laughs at this but at the same time ponders on putting on some shoes and going to rescue him.
How drunk are you, exactly?
He sighs, then shakes his head and re-reads the texts.
Also, did you mean COWS?
Why would we be COWS?
This is more and more amusing by the second.
He sees Buck’s eyes flicker with joy behind his eyelids if he closes his eyes when he reads the next incoming texts.
YEAHHHHJJHJ COWASS!’!’!!!
So, they’re cows. Are they cows? Why should they be? Eddie is so confused. Ben would be too, he bets.
Okay, why are we cows, Buck? He asks.
They hav besrt freiends and theuy dont wanna live witthout em
Eddie reads the text three times to make sure he doesn’t misunderstand.
Buck apparently thinks that they’re cows because he must have read that cows have best friends and they can’t live without each other. And Eddie doesn’t know how to feel about it. He is pretty sure his chest is constricting and catching fire.
Do you think we are?
He can’t afford to play with his feelings, even if Buck will probably forget about this in the morning.
Oggcfc we are, i ove uou
Well, if that doesn’t take Eddie out, Eddie is quite certain he is immortal.
Buck probably doesn’t mean it like that and he is obviously completely wasted but still, reading an I love you coming from him makes Eddie feel all fuzzy and warm and happy inside.
I love you too buddy
He decides to keep it simple. That’s platonic, right? Who would add a buddy to a love confession? So yeah, it’s okay. He is not about to throw up his tea.
Ok cowqa thjen
Eddie chuckles fondly, shaking his head again.
He wonders why cows seems to be such a difficult word to type for Buck, but he’s glad they agreed on the cow thing.
Where are the others, Buck? He decides to ask because he didn’t want to pry, but he’s only human, after all.
It’s nearing midnight and if his best friend is so drunk, he wants Buck to be home with him, as selfishly as that may sound, if he’s honest.
I don’t remembeeeeeerrrrreee
Hippos cannoyt swkma Eds
That’s sadds
Eddie goes through a series of emotions at the same time, then he wonders how Buck couldn’t type cows but he has apparently no problems with hippos, then goes back to worrying about him.
And he also feels his resolve crumble so he goes to put on his shoes and then goes straight to the door, before replying.
He starts texting while he’s still inside.
I’m coming to pick you up
He hopes he isn’t overstepping, but it’s not like Buck has a boyfriend or someone who could be jealous of him, and their friends seem to be enjoying their night and forgetting about him (maybe he’s a tad bit too dramatic) so he figures he’s entitled to go rescue him.
Buck’s eyes literally light up but Eddie cannot see them. He’s quick to text back, slumping more comfortably onto the little couch at the back of the dance floor of the shitty club he has been dragged into.
Relly?)??
Ur thge best edsie
Live yiu
Again.
Love you.
Eddie must concentrate so he doesn’t crash the fucking car, honestly.
He shakes his head another time again and chuckles, praying that any leftover unwanted feelings get out of it through his nose, maybe. Or maybe he’s completely gone crazy and it’s Evan Buckley’s fault.
I dont even like it hesrse
Buck keeps texting him, even if he can’t answer because he is driving.
I like yoi more
Eddie reads them when he arrives at his destination and finds a spot for the truck that is not too far away from the club building. His cheeks are on fire and his heart feels like it is in the middle of wild flames, but he pushes through and goes to the front door.
He has to squint because of the cheap, ridiculous strobe lights but he manages to scan the crowd to look for Buck. And he keeps going on even though the whole place reeks of alcohol and sweat and kinda makes him want to throw up, until he spots his best friend on a small leather couch at the back of the weird dance floor he’s walking around.
The couch is clearly too small for Buck’s long legs which are cramped in a weird position. One is bent and Buck is leaning against it with a hand (while the other is holding the phone) and the other one is hidden under his body somehow.
He carefully approaches him until he is in Buck’s field of view and Buck immediately sits up, even if a bit uncoordinated.
“Eddieeee!” He smiles, eyes wide and brilliant, and Eddie is hopelessly in love, for God’s sake.
He gets closer until he can put his hands somewhere on Buck’s body because he yearns to touch him all the time and because Buck’s whole posture seems to be a bit fluctuating, to put it lightly.
“Hey Buck,” he cheekily says, squeezing Buck’s shoulder in a familiar way that warms Buck’s already fried insides.
Buck seems unable to contain the grin that has made its way on his face as soon as he spotted Eddie and, more importantly, he seems completely unaware of his incredibly high-pitched tone of voice, even though, surrounded by music as they are, Eddie will most likely be the only one to notice. “You’re heeere!” He excitedly exclaims, as if Eddie’s presence were an actual surprise and not something to expect, after their texts exchange.
He proceeds to drape himself over Eddie’s torso as best as he can, hugging him in the clumsiest way ever known to man, Eddie thinks, and Eddie’s heart does a funny, funny thing in his chest while his hands move to Buck’s hips to keep him steady and still.
“I told you I’d come to pick you up, didn’t I?” Eddie tells him, straight into his ear, given the position of their heads.
And he feels Buck awkwardly nod against his neck. “You’re good,” then Buck mumbles, even if the words are slurred together and Eddie takes a while to properly process what he is saying.
Eddie tries to ignore the warmth that is spreading in his stomach and tries to look around for their friends. Then he decides he will text them about Buck’s sudden departure when they reach his truck, so he can solely focus on his friend.
“We gotta get some water into you, buddy,” he ruefully tells Buck, looking at his disheveled curls.
“Water?” Buck slurs, looking at him through hooded eyes but still with a gorgeous smile.
Eddie rolls his eyes fondly, then starts to move towards the exit of this hellish place. “Yep, a lot of water… how much did you exactly drink?” He asks, even though he knows that Buck isn’t likely going to give him an answer, let alone a true one.
And Buck, as expected, starts to giggle and puts all of his weight on Eddie while they’re walking. “Noooot water, Eddie!” He laughs, finding the whole thing extremely funny.
“Oh, I bet, Buck,” Eddie can’t help but retort, smiling in turn.
When they reach the door of the club, Buck’s arm is completely looped around Eddie’s neck and Eddie is reevaluating his life choices, because he honestly doesn’t know how he will get through this night without kissing Buck senseless.
He manages to bring him to the truck without any further trouble, but when he opens the passenger door and tells him to get inside, trouble arises for his poor heart.
“Okay, Buck, get inside,” he orders ever so softly, nudging him with his free hand.
But Buck turns around, which brings their faces impossibly close, and gives him the most smitten, mischievous smile Eddie has ever seen on him. “Door open?” He says, apparently without any reason.
Then he goes on, a glint in his eyes that Eddie loves so much. “For me?” He adds, and everything clicks into place.
“Yeah, Buck, I opened the door for you,” he breathes out, praying that his friend won’t keep talking.
Wrong.
Eddie is so very wrong.
Buck’s smile grows bigger, something that Eddie didn’t think was possible, and he starts to lean in, and before Eddie can even process what is happening, a wet, sloppy, and uncentered kiss lands on his left cheek.
“Thank you Eds, love you too,” Buck slurs, still unable to properly pronounce any word, apparently, but lucid enough to kiss Eddie’s cheek because he has opened the car door for him.
And Eddie should probably find the kiss slightly disgusting, given the amount of drool and the smell of alcohol that landed on his cheek somehow, but he just can’t keep his heart still.
It starts crazily hammering in his chest and he can’t do a single thing to stop it.
He blames the excessive amount of blood that must be pumped into his brain for what he does next, before closing the door on Buck’s side and going to the driver’s side: he ruffles Buck’s hair with a hand.
“Hey!” He gets in return, Buck’s brows furrowed adorably and a slight pout on his face that he would kiss away in a heartbeat.
He just chuckles his way down to the other side of the truck.
As soon as he gets inside, Buck’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of his skull.
So “What?” Eddie asks, before turning the key into the ignition.
“Eddie…” Buck tries to whisper but fails miserably, as he can’t even pronounce Eddie’s name right.
“Yeah?”
Then he unfastens his seatbelt and leans closer because he clearly wants to talk directly to Eddie’s ear but he misses it and ends up with his cheek on Eddie’s shoulder and he stays there, much to Eddie’s heart’s dismay.
“You’re so sexy,” he mumbles incoherently, slurring the words to the point that it is difficult to understand him, and Eddie’s heart skips a series of beats, so much so that Eddie starts fearing for his life.
He wonders if there’s such a thing as death by drunk confessions by your best friend, and then he mostly acts on autopilot, because he can’t afford to actually think about Buck’s words and actions.
Plus, they could as well be empty words coming from a wasted brain.
So he chuckles and then gently pushes Buck back to his seat. “Okay, now let’s go home though…” he suggests.
“Put your seatbelt on?” He adds, when Buck doesn’t seem to cooperate.
The only sound echoing through the car is the engine noise and their breathing, so Eddie has the time to carefully listen to Buck. But he stays silent. So he lifts a brow. “Buck?” He asks, waiting anxiously.
Buck mutters something intelligible in response, under his breath. And it would be hard to decipher on any good day, but now with Eddie’s heart hammering in his ears and Buck’s slurred speech, it’s basically impossible. So “I didn’t catch that, bud…” he grimaces.
“I don’t wan’a ‘o ‘me,” Buck confesses, voice as thin as a whisper and speech slurred because of the alcohol but because he is tired too.
Eddie frowns and sighs, passes a hand through his hair, and focuses on his best friend. “You wanna go to the loft?” He asks, because he clearly wanted to bring Buck home with him but if Buck doesn’t want to go with him, he won’t force him to.
But Buck shakes his head and turns to look at him, slumping in the passenger seat and squishing his face on the headrest. “Wanna sta- stay with you,” he stumbles on his words but he gets the point across.
Eddie’s smile is brilliant when he reassures him. “You were always going to come home with me, Buck,” he promises.
And Buck lights up like a Christmas tree at that. “Really?” He insecurely asks.
“Of course… come on.”
Eddie lets himself pat Buck’s thigh before putting the car into gear and leaving the place.
He expects Buck to fall asleep, or — worst case scenario — suddenly throw up. Instead, Buck comfortably settles in the seat, turns towards him, rests the left side of his face on the headrest, and starts spurting the most random facts he can remember.
“Eddie…” he first calls him, to make sure Eddie’s attention is on him. As if it could be anywhere else.
“Yeah, Buck?” Eddie softly replies, keeping his eyes on the road.
Buck’s tone drops significantly, and when he talks again, it seems like he’s sharing a huge life-changing secret with Eddie. “Starfishes don’t ha-” He is interrupted by an annoying hiccup.
“What?”
“Don’t ha- have brains, Eds…” he whispers.
Any other person would probably ask how and why Buck knows that, but it’s Eddie. Eddie knows Buck enough to know that when he can’t sleep, there’s always a Wikipedia tab open in his browser. Eddie knows that Buck immediately starts researching animal facts as soon as his son shows even the slightest interest in that particular animal. Eddie knows that Buck reads the most random scientific articles between calls when they are on shift and have nothing else to do and he doesn’t feel like talking.
So he knows why Buck has this piece of information, and he would lie if he said he didn’t find it cute that it’s him whom Buck is sharing his knowledge with.
So “Oh, that’s cool,” he sincerely retorts, risking a glance in Buck’s direction, feeling his best friend’s gaze on his face.
Buck smiles, softly, content and a bit tired, but through his hooded eyes that are slightly glazed because of the alcohol, Eddie spots something that seems an awful lot like relief.
“Thank you,” in fact, Buck replies, merely seconds later, breathing deeply, and Eddie is genuinely wondering what he is thanking him for.
“What for?” He asks, looking at him with the corner of his eye.
Buck’s attempt at shrugging fails, making Eddie cackle. “You a- always listen…” he confesses.
He is thanking Eddie because Eddie always listens to him, apparently. And Eddie’s heart simultaneously breaks and swells with love, because he can’t even begin to imagine how someone could take one look at Buck while he is talking about something that excites him and ignore him.
Even if he didn’t love him as he does, Eddie still stands by the idea that it would be an awful thing to do, so Buck’s surprise in the face of someone who’s constantly willing to listen to his ramblings — no matter how cute Eddie may find them — is heartbreaking.
“I love listening to you, Evan,” so he says, sternly, decidedly, leaving no room for doubt.
And he wishes they were already at the house, so maybe he could turn around and maybe, just maybe, caress his cheek while he tries to make him believe his words.
He calls him Evan because he knows, deep down, that it’s Evan who is doing all the talking, and not Buck. It’s the insecure little boy hidden behind the cool, sometimes cocky, and confident man that Buck is, who is thanking Eddie, so Eddie addresses that part of him. And hopes he can heal some of those deep wounds he is sure Buck carries around.
“Really?” Buck slurs, batting his eyelashes.
Eddie nods even if he is still looking ahead. “Really, always.”
That seems to satisfy Buck who whispers a little cute “Okay,” and goes back to think about his next fact, probably.
Eddie almost thinks he’s fallen asleep because of the silence that stretches in the cockpit but suddenly Buck’s hoarse voice fills his ears again.
“Do you think aliens are sad?” He asks Eddie.
His speech is still compromised by the obviously enormous amount of alcohol that he must have had but he seems to be doing better. At least words don’t blend together.
Another problem arises though: why should aliens be sad? What about?
Eddie racks his brains to find any semi-coherent reason that Buck’s brain, fazed by too many drinks, may have come up with. Then he gives up.
“Why do you think they are?” He asks back.
“They are alone, that’s not cool!” Buck immediately retorts, as though he had been waiting for a long, long time for Eddie to answer him.
Eddie guesses it makes sense. Also wonders why he is discussing aliens with his drunk best friend at midnight.
Because he’s in love with the man, right. Yeah.
“They have friends, I think?” He says. “Alien friends?” He cautiously tells Buck.
Buck looks like he’s seriously thinking about it before he talks again, murmuring. “Like us?”
The smile that tugs at Eddie’s lips has a life of its own at this point so he doesn’t even try to control it. “Yeah, like us…” he tells Buck.
“Okay… so they are happy.”
And that’s another sharp attack on the other man’s sensitive heart.
They’re almost home and Eddie feels braver, or maybe just more relaxed. So “like cows,” he adds, sending a smile in Buck’s direction.
“I like cows,” Buck slurs again, this time he sounds like he’s not so far from falling asleep, and Eddie chuckles sweetly.
“I’m sure you do, buddy.”
Cows seem to occupy Buck’s mind for the remainder of the short trip home though, because as soon as they reach Eddie’s front door, with one of Eddie’s arms looped around Buck’s middle, the taller man starts talking about them again.
“You are noooot cow, Eds,” he mumbles, softly, cheekily smiling at Eddie who tries to open the door, fumbling helplessly with his keys.
“You sure?” Eddie teases him, finally helping both of them get inside.
Buck groans when Eddie switches the light on, probably suffering from the biggest headache ever known to man, then he looks at Eddie as if he didn’t know where he is, or where to go, so Eddie leads him to the couch. “Too hot to be… cows,” Buck clarifies as soon as his back touches the couch.
And Eddie has to keep a straight face when he hears and deciphers those words. He briefly wonders how many times again Buck has to call him hot and how many more he can resist.
“Of course,” he replies, with an embarrassed chuckle, shaking his head and disappearing into the kitchen.
He comes back with a whole bottle of water and sits down next to his best friend, handing him a glass to drink.
“This‘s good,” Buck slurs, slightly dribbling as he sips his water.
Eddie can’t help but laugh, and find this sight extremely endearing, actually.
He finds himself stroking Buck’s neck before he can talk himself out of it, “how you feeling?” he softly asks, eyes dropping to Buck’s hot, red cheekbones.
“My… my head, Eddie-” Buck starts, then squints. “It throbs.”
He whispers, leaning towards Eddie’s face and punctuating every letter of the word, to the point that Eddie can’t keep a straight face and starts laughing. So much that Buck is offended.
“Why are you laughing? I am in pain.”
Eddie keeps stroking his friend’s neck, then a thumb finds a spot under Buck’s ear. “I know, sorry. You’re funny,” he explains.
One of Buck’s eyebrows perks up funnily enough that an amused smirk stays on Eddie’s face. “Funny?” He repeats, offended.
Eddie nods and steals the now empty glass from his friend’s hands, fills it with water again, and gives it back. “Keep drinking,” he instructs.
“I am boyfriend material, Eddie,” Buck seriously declares, with a pout on his face that Eddie would gladly kiss away for the rest of his life.
To be fair, Eddie’s heart hasn’t stopped pounding violently since Buck first texted him, so he is kind of used to it by now, but it still is weird. It still feels like a jolt of adrenaline through his veins every time Buck makes him think about them being something more.
He can’t help but laugh though, because Buck seems so determined to get his point across. He is not funny. He is charming, he is boyfriend material and Eddie would lie if he said he didn’t find the thing equal parts funny and endearing.
“I’m sure you are,” so he decides to say, smirk still in place, moving some of Buck’s curls away from his forehead. They’re all damp with sweat and he still finds them fucking beautiful, cute even. He’s so gone it’s ridiculous, he thinks.
Buck leans in his touch, closes his eyes, and gives the glass back to Eddie. “This is nice…” he murmurs, so Eddie gets the message and keeps stroking his friend’s scalp, silently.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me, let’s bring you to bed,” he softly tells him sometime later, when he sees Buck’s chest rise and fall at a more relaxed rhythm.
Buck slowly and tiredly opens his eyes and locks them with Eddie’s. “Bed?” He confusedly asks.
“Yeah, this couch can’t be comfortable and you’ll already feel like shit as it is tomorrow…” Eddie reasons.
But Buck has other plans, apparently. He curls up to Eddie’s side, putting his face in the space where Eddie’s neck meets the shoulder and hugging his friend’s middle with a loose arm. “Nope,” he groggily affirms, seemingly going back to sleep.
And Eddie is hopeless against Buck on any good day. How can he ever think he has a chance against drunk, cuddly, totally relaxed Buck? He doesn’t stand a chance. He can’t do anything except stay on this uncomfortable couch until Buck decides he’s had enough.
He sighs, and he knows he shouldn’t, but he starts stroking Buck’s shoulder which is not pressed into his body with the tip of his fingers.
Buck goes completely slack against him, only burrowing further into him as Eddie keeps his touch steady and sweet. And Eddie is just a man, so he loves every second of it. Loves the way Buck feels so soft against him, the way he feels so warm against his side, and the way his characteristic smell still reaches his nostrils even through the tinge of alcohol that Buck brings with him. Eddie loves the way Buck still trusts him, always trusts him.
After all, falling asleep on someone is the closest thing there’s to putting your life in their hands, somehow, and Eddie is pretty sure he will never recover from this.
Anyway, the light is still on. So Eddie hopes that eventually Buck will come to his senses and will decide to take the bed, so he can stay on the couch and switch the lights off and try to get a decent night of sleep.
That, however, doesn’t happen. Because Buck stirs, and Eddie thinks okay, that’s it, but he only positions himself better on Eddie, gripping his T-shirt in the process.
“Buck…” Eddie reluctantly whispers. “Can I bring you to bed?”
Buck shakes his head. So he’s not asleep, Eddie thinks, good.
“This won’t be fun in the morning,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, but still hugs Buck tighter.
“Tommy never did this…” Buck slurs merely seconds later, putting a lot of things in perspective.
Eddie literally freezes. It’s summer and Los Angeles always feels like Satan’s vacation home, plus he always makes sure that his AC is never too cold, so there really isn’t any logical reason for the shiver that runs down his spine.
Why is Buck talking about Tommy in his half-asleep, half-buzzed state? And why does it feel like he is comparing Eddie to his ex-boyfriend?
Is he unconsciously trying to take Eddie out? Because he is doing quite a great job, if that’s the case.
Eddie resumes his movements as soon as his brain comes back online, as soon as all he can think about isn’t Buck Buck Buck and what the hell did Tommy do to him? anymore.
So he spends what could be some seconds or some hours just cuddling Buck, tracing nonsensical patterns on Buck’s exposed arm, and basking in the warmth of his friend’s body pressed against his.
He also feels a surge of protectiveness literally assault his chest, because whatever Buck was talking about is clearly upsetting him and Eddie still doesn’t know exactly (and he means every little single detail) why Buck and Tommy broke up, so he is slightly concerned, to be totally honest, but maybe he is just being irrational and wantonly jealous.
He is about to fall asleep when Buck speaks again. “Am I good?” He asks, and honestly, Eddie thinks that the grief and sorrow he’s experienced during his time in goddamn Afghanistan hurt less.
“What?” He asks back, suddenly more alert.
How did they even go from laughing about cows to this?
Buck shakes his head and doesn’t want to talk. He probably has suddenly realized what he said.
“Buck,” Eddie prods him with the shoulder he is leaning on.
“Nothing, Eds…” Buck seems impossibly sober, for someone who’s had so much to drink.
And Eddie doesn’t exactly know what the protocol is here, so he just readjusts his grip on Buck. Lights be damned. Bed long forgotten.
“Just…” Buck mutters against Eddie’s neck. “Stay.”
“I’m always staying, Evan.”
Again, he talks to Evan because he hopes that may smoothen some of his friend’s clear insecurities.
And he stays. Even if he has to sleep on the couch, even if his back will bother in the morning, even if the light is dazzling him and that doesn’t exactly induce sleep and he can’t move because his neck position is blocking said light so that it doesn’t hit Buck’s eyes.
He stays because there’s no one else he would rather stay for. No matter what.
And he is also quite calm.
Ben would be proud of him. Yep.
Buck wakes up in fragments. At first, he feels distinctly hot, like something warm is pressed uncomfortably against his face. He still hasn’t opened his eyes but he can feel the drool on his chin and he wants to clean it up with a hand but something heavy prevents his left hand from moving and he is battling with the biggest headache of his life, so he keeps his eyes closed and stays asleep, or half asleep.
The second time he starts to stir, he is more alert, and more awake, so much so that he realizes his position and the first instinct is sitting right up, probably falling to the floor in the process.
The first, immediate thing he notices is that he is lying on Eddie’s couch and that wouldn’t be weird nor unusual if only Eddie himself weren’t lying half beside him, half on top of him.
Honestly, Buck wouldn’t perfectly know how to describe their position. This couch is clearly too small for two men their size. They’re so tangled together, a mess of relaxed limbs that violently pull at Buck’s heartstrings. He thinks he has drooled on Eddie’s shoulder and he feels his cheeks heat up, embarrassed, but then he remembers that he’s here because he got completely wasted and started texting Eddie and so has a feeling that a bit of drool will soon be the last of his problems.
He cautiously moves his head so that he can take a look at Eddie because waking up in such close proximity to his best friend is a one-of-a-kind gift, he swiftly guesses.
He would spend the rest of his days just looking at Eddie’s cheekbones, at Eddie’s eyelashes, if he could.
Then, he remembers that he has his phone. He can read the texts. He doesn’t remember much but he can read some of the conversation he had with Eddie, he supposes. So he carefully extracts the phone from his pocket, praying that Eddie won’t wake up, and unlocks it.
He goes through every kind of emotion known to the human species over a few seconds.
How could he be so stupid? He randomly started rambling about cows and polar bears and then told Eddie that he loves him? How could he do that?
He is never drinking again. Yeah. Executive decision. Evan Buckley will never know even the slightest tinge of alcohol in his life from now on.
But also, he remembers talking about aliens, and… and Tommy?
Was he so drunk that he started talking about his ex-boyfriend to the biggest crush of his life, who also happens to be his best friend?
He is a joke.
He groans so loud that Eddie starts cutely stretching and Buck thinks that his heart is going to burst out of his chest because of a grown-ass man, for God’s sake.
Eddie doesn’t wake up as gradually as he did. His eyes go immediately wide before he proceeds to just stare at him for something that feels like an eternity.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Buck blurts out, but makes no effort to move. After all, he doesn’t want to, if he’s honest. And Eddie doesn’t seem uncomfortable.
Eddie tilts his head in a way that he finds pretty adorable and scrunches up his brows. “Why?” He asks, genuinely confused.
“Why? Eddie, oh my God…” Buck doesn’t even know where to start.
Then, as much as he would love to stay cuddled up to his best friends forever, he decides that he can start by getting up, so he does. Slowly, groaning as the bad decision of sleeping on the couch reminds him that he is not a child, as his head only throbs harder.
He sits on the coffee table in front of Eddie who slowly sits up as well, looking at him with a concerned expression on his face. “You okay?”
“My head-”
“Is throbbing, yeah…” Eddie cheekily smiles. “I heard that.”
“Fuck you.”
Eddie lifts his hands in an okay-I-give-up gesture, and “Hey, your choice to get wasted, bud,” he reminds Buck. Still, a glint in his eyes that Buck can’t quite place.
The taller man groans again, “yeah, yeah, I’m never drinking again…” he murmurs.
Eddie laughs so much that Buck’s headache honestly worsens for a second but Buck wouldn’t tell Eddie to stop laughing even if his life depended on plain silence, so he finds himself smiling in turn. And “I already heard that one too,” he gets, too.
Buck sighs, passing a hand through his messy curls. “Okay, okay… I’m sorry anyway.”
Eddie’s serious and concerned face is back in full force. “Why do you keep apologizing?”
And Buck would just like to smooth the crease between his eyebrows, maybe plant a kiss right there while he is at it, and then go back to cuddling. But…
“I was a mess… come on, cows, Eds, really?” He tries, lightly, half joking.
And Eddie does chuckle for a second but then he sees right through his best friend. “I’m glad it was me,” he confesses, shrugging.
“What?”
“I’m glad it was me you wanted to share your facts with…”
Eddie is either approaching the subject from a distance or avoiding it altogether, Buck doesn’t know. Anyway, his head hurts, his throat is dry and his eyes want to bulge out of his head. And Eddie is looking at him with a soft glint in his eyes that he doesn’t have the ability to decipher.
He desperately wants, wants, wants.
He covers his face with both his hands like a five-year-old and lets every single thought that has oppressed his chest in the last few years lose.
“I only want you, I just don’t know how to say it…” he tells Eddie.
It’s truthfully just a whisper but Eddie hears it as though it was a nuclear explosion, changing the course of his whole life.
“Y- you w-want me?” His voice is simultaneously high-pitched and so low it gets hard to hear it. Buck would almost laugh if he didn’t feel like he was standing on the edge of a cliff.
He nods, his face is still buried in his hands and he has zero intention of letting go. At least until he distinctly feels a shuffle coming from the couch and then two hands wrap around his wrists.
Goosebumps literally assault him as soon as Eddie touches him, as soon as Eddie’s gentle voice reaches his ears.
“Could you please look at me?” Eddie pleads, tugging at his wrist but making no real effort. (And God, Buck falls even deeper in love with him for that.)
He shakes his head. “I’m gonna stay hidden for a little bit…” he tells Eddie, voice muffled by his hands.
Eddie lovingly chuckles, then leans back, taps Buck’s knee, and “I can still see you, just saying…” he tells him, matter-of-factly, probably a bit too smugly for Buck’s liking.
Eventually, Buck leans his elbows on his knees, and that makes Eddie chuckle again. “You comfy now?” He asks, one eyebrow raised funnily.
“Yeah,” Buck mumbles. “Head hurts though,” he adds.
“Okay, I’ll get you an Advil, baby.”
Eddie’s tone is terribly serious even if he is smiling softly and Buck’s heart starts racing so much, pumping so much blood that he fears, for a second, that his head is going to literally explode into shreds (his brain is going to burst onto Eddie’s couch, yeah).
Eddie called him baby.
Baby.
Him.
Eddie.
Oh.
Wait.
He rubs his eyes, finally freeing his face, and when Eddie comes back, with a glass of cold water in one hand and an Advil in the other, he feels like he has never really looked at the man.
There’s light coming from the windows that highlights a particular shade of brown in Eddie’s eyes.
Have Eddie’s eyes always had a honey shade in them? Oh fuck, he is going crazy. Too much alcohol.
“Oh, so you’re looking at me again, I see,” then Eddie impishly tells him, winking at him while he approaches him and gives him the Advil and the water.
Buck gulps slowly, trying to gain control over something that he has never had control of. His goddamn feelings for the man who is back sitting in front of him, looking at him as if he were a piece of fragile, precious porcelain.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again. It seems it’s all he can say, all he can think of.
But Eddie tilts his head, and a loose strand of hair falls on his forehead and Buck’s fingers twitch because he wants to touch, and that thought alone makes him lose every bit of sanity he had managed to muster.
“Can you stop apologizing? There’s no need,” Eddie sincerely tells him.
He proceeds to put a hand on Buck’s knee, squeezing, “You have me,” he vows.
And it’s so unprompted and sudden that Buck almost gives himself whiplash with how much he cranes his head to properly look at his friend. “What?” He squeaks, ridiculously.
Eddie cackles. “You said…” he starts, cautiously, still scared shitless that he misunderstood and he is going to lose the single best thing life gave him after his son. “You only want me, right?”
He lingers on that for the briefest second before going on. Buck barely has time to sheepishly nod. “You have me, I am yours,” he confirms, shyly trying to reach for Buck’s hand to hold it.
Buck tilts his head and feels a blush creep up on his neck, his cheeks, and his ears.
The tips of his ears are actually red and Eddie finds it the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
He smiles even wider. “Buck?” He nudges him with his foot.
“Y- you-” is all Buck manages to blurt out.
“You like my facts?” He asks. And Eddie bursts out laughing. “I like you, Buck. I love you…” Eddie tells him, shrugs at the end as if he hadn’t just tipped his friend’s world upside down.
“Why?”
Buck is absolutely making a fool of himself, he thinks. He is crazy.
Eddie tightens the hold on his hand, though, and just smiles, he doesn’t laugh.
“Well, for starters… cows get sad if they don’t get to stay with their friends.”
That makes Buck laugh and Eddie silently vows he’ll make Buck laugh every day until he dies.
“Eddie.”
“Buck.”
“I’m serious, Eds…” Buck mumbles, even if he has started caressing Eddie’s knuckles.
Eddie moves closer to the edge of the couch and then knocks all the air out of Buck’s lungs when he cups his cheek in his other hand. “I know you think you’re hard to love, but I promise you are really not…” he gently smiles.
“It’s… literally the easiest thing I do.”
Eddie’s heart is pounding in his ears but at the same time, he feels a weird sense of relief, calm, and peace wash over him. So he just stays there, stroking his thumb over his best friend’s cheekbone.
The other man, though, has tears in his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry, but… but he swears he can hear a lifetime's worth of words that tell him the exact opposite of what Eddie is solemnly promising him.
“You wanna sit here?” In the end, Eddie asks him, patting the spot on the couch next to him.
And he moves, slowly, like he is the main character of a slow-motion movie, until his left side is completely pressed against Eddie’s right one. Then, Eddie takes Buck’s left leg and brings it over his right one, smiling, and leaves his hand right on the knee, stroking it over the linen pants Buck is still wearing from the night before.
“You okay?” Eddie asks. Because Buck looks dazzled and bewildered, like he is there but he is not actually there.
“Y- yeah, I’m just- this is… a lot.”
Buck hopes it makes sense, but it must, because Eddie nods. Then he clears his throat. “I want to ask you something, but I’m making coffee first, okay?”
And as much as Buck would gladly never leave that position, he agrees, but luckily for him, they find themselves back in that exact same spot just ten minutes later, with a cup of coffee each.
Eddie is still caressing his leg and his ears are still as red as tomatoes.
“Last night…” Eddie starts and Buck can already feel embarrassment creep up on his spine. “You said something about Tommy.”
Buck groans and would gladly cover his face again but one hand is busy with the cup of coffee and the other one is settled around Eddie’s bicep, and he doesn’t want to move, so he turns his head to the other side.
“Please, I’m so embarrassed,” he communicates, chuckling self-deprecatingly.
Eddie interrupts his ministrations on Buck’s leg to gently tilt his head so that his friend is looking at him again. “Buck, it’s okay…” he reassures him.
And so Buck sags, into the couch but also into Eddie, who goes with him, and rests his face on the back of the couch to have a better look at the other man.
“It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, I promise… I’m just worried that- I don’t know… did he treat you right?” Eddie exhales, finding Buck’s hand and intertwining their fingers.
In any other circumstance, Buck would laugh. He would think Eddie is overprotective and exaggerating and would brush him off.
But Eddie is the same man who told him that loving him is the easiest thing he’s ever done. He is the same man Buck would spend his life with. No questions asked. No take-backs.
So he keeps looking ahead because he doesn’t have the nerve to look the other man in the eye while he explains why yet another person in his life apparently couldn’t love him.
“He just didn’t give a fuck.”
It would be quite a neutral statement, coming from anyone but Buck.
But, as this is Buck, Eddie knows that this is a huge deal.
He doesn’t interrupt him, though.
“Remember when I told you he kinda broke up with me after our first date?” Buck asks and he nods, face brushing on the couch cushions, his fingers tightening around Buck’s.
“He told me I was adorable but I was not ready,” Buck scoffs, putting as much dismay as possible on the world adorable as if Eddie didn’t find him adorable as well, as if he were not. (He’ll tell him another time, though.)
“Then I went and did my thing, didn’t I? I begged him to come to Maddie’s wedding because I don’t know how not to be exhausting, apparently…” he adds, self-deprecatingly.
“Buck…”
“Then,” Buck goes on, now unrelenting. “Then we had sex and he-”
Now, Eddie is worried.
“He never actually said anything, you know?” Buck says, pain lacing his features. “But I saw how he looked at me, how he told me what to do as if I was- a- a fucking project… I don’t know what. And then he joked about going at my own pace in front of Hen and Karen, as if he had been doing me a fucking favor? Who the hell does that to his boyfriend?”
He is panting and Eddie feels guilty because he asked him to talk about Tommy but is also planning a way to take Tommy out — without being caught, preferably.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you-” Eddie tries to say, tries to curl up to him a bit more, give him comfort in the form of touch, even if Buck just seems angry, not that upset.
“I don’t care, it’s just- I feel like an idiot, you know? When Bobby was in the hospital, we were eating dinner and you know what he told me?”
He is now looking at Eddie, furious. As if, before, he hadn’t given himself the opportunity, the right to be angry on his own behalf.
“I wanted to open up to him, to talk to him about Bobby, about what he means to me, about my fucked-up parents and he said he hoped I had daddy issues? Besides pointing out that I already have a father!” He spits out.
He can’t believe he still kept staying in that relationship after that evening. That he still had sex with that man after that evening.
“I know I promised you no more fighting, but can I punch him like really really hard?” Is what Eddie says in response.
Buck starts laughing and Eddie can’t fight his own smile but he is so terribly serious. “Maybe I can lure him into a muay thai session and hit the fuck out of him. Would you be mad at me then?” Eddie asks, conspiratorially.
All anger and sadness and frustration immediately leave Buck’s body. He throws his head back and laughs sincerely, genuinely. Eddie makes him so ridiculously happy he can’t believe he gets to have this.
He finds Eddie’s eyes and talks to him. “I love you so much it makes me feel stupid,” he tells him.
And Eddie should have been ready. After all, they’re having this conversation because they established that they have feelings for each other, but actually hearing the words is entirely different, a completely new experience.
It’s like every single thing of his life has slotted into place now that he is sure that Evan Buckley loves him and that he can freely love him back.
Ben’s words distantly echo through his mind.
“You have to allow yourself to feel, before you think about doing. Just feel.”
And he feels. God, he feels like every possible feeling is exploding in his chest, while Buck looks at him as though he is the best person ever.
“I fuck things up,” is not what he means to say but it’s what comes out of his mouth.
Buck smiles, a happy glint in his eyes and a cute glow on his cheeks. “So do I, I’ve heard,” he shrugs, shuffling closer to Eddie.
“I love you,” Eddie repeats, leaning in until their foreheads are touching.
And seeing Buck’s smile this close is a religious, life-shattering experience. How did he survive without this so far?
“And I fuck things up but I know that this is a forever kind of thing. You wanna know why?”
Buck nods and slightly tilts his head so their noses brush.
“Because I figured that out before I actually figured out myself…” Eddie whispers on his lips before leaning the last bit in and kissing him gently at first.
Then the kiss, which has started as tentative and soft, becomes messy and sloppy and wet just as fast. They feel pretty nervous at first but all it takes for the nerves to dissolve is a smile from each other before they dive back into it.
So their lips keep exploring each other, and soon their tongues find themselves in the middle of it all and they’re probably moaning in a way that would be embarrassing on any other day, but it’s just perfect in that moment.
Eddie presses against him until Buck has enough of the weird position they find themselves in and basically grabs him, bringing him to sit on his lap.
When Eddie realizes he is straddling Buck while he has his tongue in his throat, his stomach is already tingling, his chest is so hot that he thinks he’s going to burn soon and his brain is swooning.
He is completely melted into Buck, whose hands are all over him, first curling around his hips, then around his thighs, and then lightly squeezing his butt.
They should be concerned about the speed at which their first kiss went from a single, hesitant kiss to a full make-out session, but neither of them can care.
Eventually, they have to come up for air, and when they do, their cheeks are red and burning and their lips are completely swollen and absolutely kissable (if they’re honest).
“Just- just promise me something…” Buck pants, one hand cupping Eddie’s cheek and the other one dangerously low on his hip.
“Whatever you want, baby,” Eddie breathes out, sure that he would steal the fucking sun and give it to Buck if the man asked.
Buck points a finger at him. “No hitting Tommy.”
Eddie groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head theatrically. “Buck.”
“You said whatever, Eddie,” Buck reminds him, faux stern voice and all.
“That’s not fair,” Eddie pouts.
“Promise me.”
Eddie reluctantly nods, exhaling dramatically. “Fine, but know that I hate him now,” he announces, settling down on Buck’s shoulder and hiding in his neck.
Buck’s hand immediately starts going up and down his spine. “You don’t have to… to hate him because of me. He was your friend first.”
He sounds so serious that Eddie thinks he has to look him in the eye to explain.
“Buck, he hurt you. And he was a fucking asshole. And I don’t care about anyone else but you and Christopher. So fuck Tommy, I already have my best friend,” he sternly says.
Buck’s smile widens, Eddie is pretty sure it could be spotted from outer space and he places a kiss right at the corner.
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as any cow would be,” Eddie seriously retorts.
The other man starts laughing, swatting his chest affectionately. “Would you stop?”
“Never, baby.”