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Domestic Warfare

Summary:

“You’re supposed to talk to each other. About why you’re upset, not be mean to each other,” Christopher all but groans, pushing his glasses up as he glances down at his notebook.

“Why don’t you go first, honey,” Eddie says, his tone sarcastically sweet.

Buck glares at him. “I’m sorry that you’re an idiot and that you can’t just admit when you’re wrong.”

“No,” Christopher scolds. “I’m gonna teach you how to apologize. And you’re gonna say you’re sorry the right way.”

**
Prompt: Eddie and his idiot husband (spoiler alert: they're both idiots)

Notes:

This was so much fun to write, I could have easily written another 2k of them being idiots. Enjoy!

A big thank you to marciaelena for the beta!

Work Text:

Buck remembers having a conversation with Eddie as he prepared to leave to get groceries on Thursday. Buck asked him if eggs were on the list, Eddie said he’d add them to it. Now it’s Friday night and Buck is making dinner. He pulls open the fridge and takes out the egg carton. The extraordinarily light egg carton when there should be a hefty dozen inside. Buck groans in irritation as he flips it open. One lonely fucking egg left.

Which won’t be enough for the two pounds of meatloaf that he was going to make, but he’ll halve the recipe. He can make it work, although he already has everything else prepped. The meat is seasoned, the onions are cut, the bread crumbs measured, but he’ll figure it out. Buck moves to crack the egg on the edge of the bowl.

“What in the actual—” Buck huffs out a breath when the egg he’s tapped against the edge of the bowl doesn’t break. He looks down at the dented shell — a hard-boiled egg. What kind of monster puts a hardboiled egg back in the carton for the next unsuspecting person? Decidedly a dark-haired one.

Eddie steps into the kitchen. “So, what time do you think the meatloaf will be done?” he asks. “Christopher should be back from Abuela’s soon. Was hoping we could eat around 6?”

Buck levels an irritated look at his husband. “Oh, I don’t know, babe. Maybe when a hen lays a couple of eggs in our kitchen? You think you can get one here in the next five minutes?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh, w-what?”

“Do you remember a whole day ago when I asked you to pick up a carton of eggs when you had the grocery list in your hand? Ya know, as you were getting ready to go and buy the groceries?”

Eddie shrugs his shoulder lightly. “Oops. Can’t you just make it without the eggs?”

Buck forces a laugh, irritation clear in his tone. “Oh, sure, Chef Eddie, dinner will be fantastic without something to bind together the meatloaf. This is why we have a fucking list, Eds! Because you don’t know what we need— next time I’ll just do it myself .”

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, then quickly snaps it shut and walks out of the room. He doesn’t talk to Buck for the rest of the night.

___________________________________

 

The silent treatment continues the next morning, and Buck struggles to remember the last time things were so tense between them “Eddie, can you pass me the butter?” he asks at the breakfast table.

“Christopher, what special do you have today?” Eddie asks, eyes not leaving his son’s face. Buck forces himself to not roll his eyes so obviously in front of Chris.

“I have art.” Christopher glances between Buck and Eddie with a confused look on his face. “Dad, Papa asked for the butter,” he says finally.

“You should give it to him, then,” Eddie answers, taking the last few sips from his coffee before standing and walking to the kitchen sink. “Let’s finish up, mijo, so you’re not late for school.”

No words pass between them, and when Buck gives Christopher a goodbye kiss to the crown of his head, Eddie slips out the door without saying goodbye.

___________________________________

 

Eddie returns from dropping Christopher off at school a short while later, and the silence is beginning to drive Buck insane. He tries talking to Eddie a few times and is flat out ignored. Buck’s on a mission to get Eddie to say something — even if it is to tell him to fuck off. He won’t admit that maybe he overreacted about the eggs, or that maybe he was a little out of line with what he said to Eddie. But Eddie’s acting like he’s a five-year-old.

Two can play at that game.

After his morning shower, Buck leaves the wet towel on the bathroom floor while he’s getting ready. He carefully drops his dirty clothes inches in front of the dirty clothes hamper in the corner of their bedroom. Buck goes about his morning and still Eddie says nothing. They both have the day off from work, and it’s as if they‘re both magnetically drawn away from each other, moving in the opposite direction to avoid passing one another in their own home.

When the wet towel and scattered clothes don’t have the desired result, Buck leaves his dirty dishes throughout the house— his glass on the coffee table, his plate from lunch on the dining room table, his water bottle in the bathroom. Still, Eddie says nothing. 

In the afternoon, Buck leaves to pick up Christopher from school. Thankfully with Christopher home, there is at least some conversation and banter, though Eddie still won’t talk to Buck. Despite the silent treatment, Buck refuses to apologize, and his attempts to get Eddie to talk to him happen less and less frequently.

That evening they follow their usual nightly routine; Buck reads Christopher the next chapter of his book, and Eddie comes in to say goodnight and give Christopher a goodnight kiss. After Buck turns out the light he walks back to the living room and sees that Eddie’s taken care of his glass and he must have loaded the dishwasher. Eddie is nowhere to be seen and it’s only a little past eight.

Buck quietly gets ready for bed, then pushes open their bedroom door and steps inside. The lights are already out and Eddie is tucked in. Buck resists the urge to slide in behind Eddie and wrap his arms around him. Instead, he internalizes a sigh and lies down, attempting to get comfortable and settled on his side of the bed without the feeling of Eddie’s body pressed up against his. It’s too early for him to fall asleep anyway, so he pulls out the book that he’s been reading and turns his bedside lamp on. Despite the heat that he should feel from Eddie’s body that is only a couple of inches out of reach, their bed has rarely felt colder.

___________________________________

 

Buck wakes in the middle of the night to an overwhelming chill. He grumbles incoherently, half asleep and attempts to tug some of the blankets back to his side of the bed. Usually, it’s cute and he’ll snuggle up to Eddie and pull the blankets over both of them to get warm. Not tonight. Buck pulls on the covers and still they don’t give at all. He gives a firm yank and lands hard on the floor, tangled in the blankets.

Buck swears he hears Eddie whisper something under his breath, and that’s it. He silently gets up off of the floor and grabs his pillows before he makes his way out to the couch and settles there. He lays wide awake in the darkness, and when Eddie finally speaks to him it’s to say, “Come back to bed.” He should be happy that Eddie’s followed him out of their bedroom and is now talking to him, but all Buck can think is that his side aches and that this is all total bullshit. He isn’t about to lay beside him in bed and pretend that he’s happy, because he’s not.

When he ignores Eddie’s request to come to bed at 3 am, Eddie mumbles a half-hearted reply and looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes before he goes back to bed alone.

Buck can’t fall back asleep, and instead of admitting that he misses Eddie and going back to bed too, he lies on the couch awake until he’s finally had enough. He’s up before the sun so he deep cleans the kitchen, cleans every hard surface in the house before dropping onto the couch at 6:30. He hears the familiar sound of Christopher’s crutches against the floor and resituates himself against his pillows.

 “Papa, what are you doing out here already?” Chris asks, sounding surprised.  It’s the weekend and Buck and Eddie always stay in bed a little longer then, with Christopher joining them for some cuddles.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Buck says dryly.

“You always sleep better in bed with Dad.” Christopher frowns. “We can go snuggle him, that always makes you happy.”

“Not today, Chris,” Buck answers finally. He doesn’t want to make a scene in front of their son. Christopher knows that his dads fight on occasion, but he doesn’t need this to be blown up. And the last thing that Buck wants to do right now is to snuggle in bed with Eddie. “What can I get you for breakfast?”

Christopher’s brow pinches together as if he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. “It’s Saturday, Papa, you always let Dad pick what’s for breakfast.”

“Well, today is a Christopher day,” Buck says as he makes his way into the kitchen and pulls the door to the fridge open, surveying what they have inside.

“What if we make Dad breakfast in bed?” Their son is inherently kind and on most days he’s so thankful for that trait. When Buck is trying to plant his flag in the ground mid-argument, though, he’s less than thrilled about doing sweet or thoughtful things for Eddie. But he’s already told Christopher no once today, and that’s a hard limit for Buck. Instead he stands side by side with Chris making breakfast and a few minutes later they’re slipping quietly into the bedroom.

“Morning, Dad,” Christopher says excitedly as Buck carries Eddie’s breakfast and coffee into the room. “We made you breakfast!”

Eddie sits up in bed a little, and he looks fucking exhausted. Buck pushes down the feeling that twists in his gut at seeing his husband so completely disheveled and remembers that he’s giving Eddie the silent treatment now. “You did?” he shifts upward in the bed and Buck sets the tray in front of him, wordlessly holding out his coffee.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, and Buck places a kiss on the top of Christopher’s head, ignoring his husband. Christopher made the coffee, and Buck fixed it, just like Eddie likes it. 

Not because he wanted to.

He couldn’t very well put salt in his coffee instead of sugar with Christopher supervising. After being pushed out of bed last night and functioning on barely a couple of hours of sleep, Buck’s not feeling anything if not vindictive and petty.

“You did good. Spend some time with Dad, yeah?” Without another glance, Buck exits the room. He sits at the dining room table with his breakfast and eats alone.

___________________________________

 

Buck’s terrible at giving Eddie the silent treatment, and Eddie’s so good at it. 

It’s so unfair.

After breakfast Buck purposely leaves the biggest glob of toothpaste residue in the sink that he can muster, eyeing the bathroom carefully as Eddie goes in for his shower. He hears him muttering on the other side of the door, but he still doesn’t say anything to Buck. It’s a quiet weekend with no specific plans, which is probably better than them unleashing their pettiness on the world.

While Eddie’s taking his shower, Buck gets to work in the bedroom. He pulls open the drawers to the dresser and reorganizes all of Eddie’s socks, mismatching them all before he returns them neatly into the drawer. He pulls out the contents of the other drawers, mixing them up so Eddie will have to search for whatever he needs. He repeats the same process in the closet, moving things around with no direction.

Once Eddie is done, Buck heads into the bathroom for a long, hot shower. Giving Eddie the silent treatment is draining every morsel of energy from him. He longs for Eddie to reach out and touch him, misses the brush of Eddie’s lips against his jawline, and wishes for a simple shoulder bump. Buck thrives on the intimate contact and words of affirmation, but he knows this is far from over. It will be done when Eddie apologizes and not a moment sooner.

Buck steps into the hot stream of water before he hears the fan in the bathroom kick on. He shrugs it off until he feels downright chilled. A couple of hours of sleep plus not having a relaxing shower does not put Buck in his happy place. When he steps out of the shower he sees that the bathroom door is wide open, and he glares out into the other room. He tucks the towel around his waist before he walks past Eddie. After he gets dressed he makes his way over to the laundry room to get the clean laundry to put away.

Buck grits his teeth when he sees that all of his laundry is still sitting dirty in the hamper but all of Eddie’s and Christopher’s clothes have been washed and neatly folded. He mutters under his breath before starting a load of his own laundry.

___________________________________

 

Buck thinks that maybe Eddie’s given up on winning their wordless argument. He’s not spoken to Eddie in two days, which could be a record. He isn’t even really sure if he remembers what he was so pissed about in the first place that started this whole thing. But now that they’re two days in he can’t give up so easily. Things seem to only be getting more serious, and though they haven’t outright argued in front of Christopher, Buck is no longer cooking for Eddie.

If he wants to be a dick, he can be a hungry one.

Dinner time rolls around and Buck begins cooking dinner for him and Chris. He decides to cook Eddie’s favorite meal, Chicken Kiev. It was one of the first meals that Buck cooked for him when they started dating, and it’s remained one of his favorites over the last few years. One that he doesn’t make all that often because of the process. He wants to be sure that this particular gesture packs a punch, hopefully enough to push Eddie into an apology so that they can end this.

He’s sure to make enough for three servings, but when the food is done he shovels two portions onto his plate before he sits down at the table. Christopher eyes the serving on his plate suspiciously. “Really, Papa?”

Eddie doesn’t look bothered by it at all. “You boys eat, I’ll fend for myself.” Eddie fixes himself a drink before he sits down at the table across from Buck. Eddie is eyeing him in a way that almost feels… calculating. However, Buck skipped lunch because he’d been planning to eat two portions of Chicken Kiev tonight, so he shrugs it off. If he’s being honest, he isn’t thrilled by how it looks. Eddie hid all of the spatulas in the kitchen, and the time Buck spent distracted as he looked for one caused the crust to appear a bit burnt, and he’s never burned Chicken Kiev before. Despite that he takes a bite while Christopher is still watching Buck with an incredulous look on his face.

It’s probably a good thing that Christopher hasn’t tried eating yet, because Buck begins sputtering. He looks up and Eddie’s eyes shine with amusement. That fucker sabotaged dinner. Buck glares at him, pushes himself away from the table before he spits his food in a napkin and throws it away. “Real fuckin’ nice, Eds,” Buck says as he steps closer to the table. “Papa’s gonna have to make you something else, bud, you can’t eat this.” 

He clears their dishes just as the doorbell rings and Eddie leaves to answer the door. Eddie returns with a takeout bag that he sets down on the table. “Chris, I ordered us some takeout for dinner,” Eddie says, glancing at Buck momentarily. “You just have to fend for yourself, babe.”

“You sabotaged dinner!”

“You sabotaged my closet!”

“You—”

“STOP!” Christopher shouts with an annoyed sigh. “You’re both in time out.”

“But—”

“I—”

“Zip it,” Chris says. “Dad, go to your room.” Buck, very maturely, sticks his tongue out at Eddie which causes Eddie to roll his eyes in turn. “ Papa,” Chris scolds, “you go sit on the couch.”

“How come—”

“Go.” Christopher clumsily snaps his fingers for effect and the two men scramble to their feet, off to their designated time out spots, glaring at each other in annoyance.

___________________________________

 

Christopher’s not sure how he ended up in this situation. With two dads who are completely incapable of speaking to each other and working things out on their own. He’s tried talking to them a few times, separately, and all they’ve done is talk over him. He has no idea why they’re even fighting, but it’s gone from utter silence to them shouting at each other at the dinner table.

He’s had enough and he’s in over his head. There’s only one thing that he can do: call for help.

This is an emergency.

He’s thankful when she picks up on the first ring. Christopher cradles the phone awkwardly before he begins talking. “Miss Athena, Dad and Papa say that if there’s an emergency I should call the police.”

“Chris, is anyone hurt? Are you okay?” Athena sounds worried, and that’s not what he wanted.

He sighs loudly. “Yeah, we’re okay. Nobody’s hurt. But,” Christopher pauses as he tries to gather his thoughts. “They’re grown ups, and they’re acting like kids. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Athena responds softly, “your first mistake was thinking that either one of your idiot dads is a grown up. Tell me what happened.”

Christopher leads with, “I don’t know what actually happened.” He doesn’t. He knows that when he went to his abuela’s the other day his dads were getting along great. Then he came home after dinner and his dads wouldn’t even look at each other. “They were fine, then I came home from Abuela’s and they weren’t talking. Then at breakfast Papa asked for something and Dad didn’t answer. And then… then Papa stopped talking to Dad too. We always make breakfast together for Dad on the weekend, and Papa didn’t even ask him what he wanted.”

Then Papa made Dad's favorite dinner and didn’t give any to Dad, but Dad had ruined it and they started arguing. And then I put them in time out,” he recaps.

“That’s… a lot,” Athena says carefully into the phone. “Have you tried asking them what happened?”

“I did. They just got mad, so I called you.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re going to make a plan and get your dads back to normal, alright?”

“Okay,” Chris sighs. He wonders if his dads will ever be back to normal. They’ve argued before, over silly things, but it’s never taken them this long to forgive each other. They’ve given each other the silent treatment a little bit, but then they apologized and everything was okay. He hopes that they can forgive each other this time so they can just go back to being a normal family. There’s no way that he can put up with another day of this. “So what do I do?”

“The first thing? You need to let them know you’re serious, that you’re the boss.” 

He pulls out of his composition notebook from school, listens to Athena, making detailed notes so that he can get this right. Athena knows everything, and everyone's a little bit scared of her, even his dads. If he works hard enough, maybe his dads will be scared enough to listen to him, too.

___________________________________

 

“This is ridiculous,” Eddie mutters to himself as he sits on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. He’s spent the better part of the last few days at odds with Buck. He’s been an absolute pain in the ass, doing everything in his power to get under Eddie’s skin. He’s done such a good job of it that it’s been infuriating. The fact that he intimately knows each and every one of Eddie’s pet peeves is an unfair advantage.

The only positive? He knows Buck’s just as well.

He never thought that it would go on for this long. But after Buck had insulted Eddie the other day, which burned, he didn’t want to talk to Buck. He still didn’t want to talk to him until Eddie had yanked the blankets too roughly and Buck stormed out of their bedroom after falling out of bed. Then Eddie realized maybe he’d let it go a little too far.

But now Buck won’t talk to him and the tables are turned. Buck never uses the silent treatment, that is 100% Eddie’s tactic when he’s angry, whereas Buck’s is to be absolutely ridiculously annoying about everything.

The truth is, what he really wants is to kiss Buck and make things better. Only Buck will barely even look at him, let alone kiss him.

So, Eddie’s been trying to annoy him just enough that he might actually start talking. That he might actually admit what he’s upset about -- that he was in the wrong in the first place.

So far, he’s failed.

“I know you’re upset about something but if you don’t talk about it, it won’t get any better,” Chris says. “You and Papa have to talk to each other. Can you do that?”

So, Eddie agrees.

___________________________________

 

“I’m sorry that you are an idiot and don’t know how to apologize,” Eddie says with a shrug of his shoulders, glancing over at Buck who is glaring across the dining room table from him. “You have been a jerk for days, and now it’s up to me to fix things, as usual.”

“No!” Christopher sighs with exasperation. “Dad, you’re not doing it right.”

“You tell him,” Buck mutters, a full pout on his lips as he stirs his coffee with obvious disinterest. Somehow, Buck is awful at making coffee; it comes out so terrible that it’s offensive each and every time. Eddie finds comfort in the fact that he can’t thoroughly enjoy it. “As if he’s ever the one to fix things.”

“You’re supposed to talk to each other. About why you’re upset, not be mean to each other,” Christopher all but groans, pushing his glasses up as he glances down at his notebook.

“Why don’t you go first, honey,” Eddie says, his tone sarcastically sweet.

Buck glares at him. “I’m sorry that you’re an idiot and that you can’t just admit when you’re wrong.”

“No,” Christopher scolds. “I’m gonna teach you how to apologize. And you’re gonna say you’re sorry the right way.”

___________________________________

 

Eddie isn’t sure what he expected when Christopher told them that he was going to teach them how to apologize the right way, but a lecture isn’t what he envisioned. Each and every time that either one of them tried to interrupt he quickly cut them off and told them to save their questions for when he was finished.

Christopher is still seated at the dining room table. He sent Eddie and Buck to the other room to work on their apologies, gave each of them some lined paper and construction paper so that they could choose how to apologize. Eddie looks down at the words that he’s written and groans unhappily. “Chris, can we just get this over with already?” 

When there’s no immediate answer Eddie glares at Buck before walking to the dining room and plopping down heavily into the chair directly across from Chris. He sets the sheet of paper down in front of him. “Can I just apologize to Buck and get this over with?”

“Maybe. What’re you going to say to him?”

“Are you being serious right now?” Eddie drops his hands onto the table, looking at Chris incredulously. 

“Yes, Dad,” Chris says, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Tell me.”

“Buck, I’m sorry that you’re so bull-headed that—”

“Stop,” Chris cuts him short. Eddie clenches his jaw as he looks over at his son and sighs heavily through his teeth. He watches Chris glance down at his notebook, his finger tracing along the words before his gaze settles back on Eddie.  “Ask yourself these questions, Dad: is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?” 

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “So what you’re telling me is I’ve got nothing,”

___________________________________

 

“Hey, buddy.” Buck plops down beside Christopher on the couch. “I made us a snack.” He holds out a plate to his son, and Chris happily takes the offering of cubed cheese and fruit.

“Thanks, Papa.” 

Buck shrugs, hoping that the snack has the desired effect. He’s above a lot of things, but bribery isn’t one of them. “I’m ready to apologize to your dad,” he says.

“Okay,” Chris replies as he pops a grape into his mouth, “I wanna hear it.”

“I’m sorry that you don’t know how to cook or how to add something to the grocery list.”

Papa.” Chris sighs as he reaches for the notebook and flips it open. “You’re still doing it wrong. I told you how, remember? First you say you’re sorry and mean it; then ask Dad if he’s okay; then don’t do it again. You’re still on number one.”

Buck pouts and holds his hand out for the plate. “I want my snack back.”

“I’m very disappointed in you,” Christopher says as he hands the plate back to Buck, getting up from the couch and grabbing his crutches before leaving the room

___________________________________

 

It’s been three days since they’ve actually held a conversation with each other, three days since they’ve kissed, and three nights since they’ve slept in the same bed together. Eddie knows that he started this by giving Buck the silent treatment in the first place, that maybe he overreacted to Buck’s words. He’d known Buck was upset with him, and he should have just let it go.

“Buck.” Eddie sighs as he leans against the doorjamb to their bedroom where Buck is getting his clothes together before bed. It’s early yet, not quite Christopher’s bedtime. He doesn’t want them to go to bed angry again tonight. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

Buck glances up and lets out a quiet sigh as he sets his boxers and joggers down on the bed. “I’m getting ready for bed.”

“Does that mean you’re actually going to sleep in bed with me tonight?”

Eddie watches Buck closely, takes note of the tension in his husband’s shoulders, the way that he hesitates before answering. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Eddie sucks at this, sucks at apologies, at using his words. He knows he’s not the only one in the wrong, but one of them needs to take the first step. Usually, it’s Buck. He knows that they’ve been absolutely ridiculous for days, especially when their kid is calling them out on being childish. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but is stopped when he hears the doorbell. He slips out of the bedroom and hears Buck follow behind him. “Abuela? What are you doing here?” Eddie stumbles over his words as they stand in the doorway. 

“Idiots, the both of you,” she reprimands. “Christopher had to call me and tell me his dads were being worse than a bunch of children and giving each other the silent treatment, yelling at each other, and refusing to apologize. You were raised better than this, Edmundo.”

“But, I—” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” she tells him as she follows them inside, where Christopher is waiting with his overnight bag. She cradles the boy’s face before kissing his cheek.“You are a saint. Did you finally get them to stop being fools and talk to each other?”

“You know we can hear you,” Buck mumbles as he scratches the back of his head.

“I know.” She levels Buck with the same look she gave Eddie only minutes before. It speaks volumes for how irritated she must be, since she’s never angry or upset with Buck. No matter what the circumstances.

“What Buck meant to say is… we’re sorry,” Eddie says after a pause. He looks away from Buck who is looking at him closely, before his eyes settle on his abuela. 

Isabel hums. “Did both of you apologize to each other?” 

“No, but I was trying to-”

She turns to Christopher. “Let’s go, mijito.” 

“Abuela,” Eddie says. “We didn’t talk about Chris having a sleepover tonight.”

“You love each other, you have one night to stop being fools and fix it. Enough is enough.” Eddie starts to argue, but when Abuela holds up her hand to stop him he snaps his mouth shut. “No arguments, Edmundo.”

So, he doesn’t argue. He knows that there is no point. Eddie’s stubbornness is no fight for his abuela.

They both give Christopher a kiss goodbye and their boy reminds each of them of the structure of a proper apology, which Eddie can’t help but smile for. He’s not sure how they’re lucky enough to have such a kind and caring boy. He surprises Eddie with his innate goodness every day.

After they say goodbye Eddie locks the door behind them, turning his attention back to Buck, who’s watching him. Eddie’s still at a loss for what to say to Buck, so he steps closer to him and grabs hold of his hands. “Can I make us coffee?”

Buck’s eyes lower to Eddie’s before he silently nods in agreement. Eddie fixes both of them a cup and joins Buck at the table, setting a folded piece of light blue construction paper down in front of him. “Thanks,” Buck says quietly as he takes a sip of the coffee.

“I’m sorry I let this go on for so long. I’m sorry that I gave you the silent treatment instead of just telling you that I was upset,” Eddie says finally, looking over at Buck and gently running his thumb over the back of his husband’s hand. “I need to be better about that, about telling you when something is bothering me instead of being a… shithead and ignoring you.”

“You were a shithead,” Buck laughs for the first time in days, “ but I wasn’t much better. I’m sorry that I snapped at you. I was just frustrated and it wasn’t fair to you.”

“This might be corny, but Chris asked me to make you a card earlier,” Eddie murmurs, lowering his eyes to the folded piece of construction paper.  He grips the paper between his fingers nervously before looking up and catching Buck’s gaze.

Buck’s smile is breathtaking. “You made me a card?” The excitement in his tone is measurable, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“I wouldn’t get too excited, it’s definitely no Christopher Diaz special.”

“Can I see it?” The smile is still twitching at the corner of Buck’s lips and after another moment of second-guessing himself Eddie hands the handmade card to Buck. The front has a terribly drawn picture of their family, with hearts on the front, something that a kid much younger than Christopher might have drawn.

He studies Buck’s face, waiting for his smile to falter but he feels his heart race when instead, Buck’s smile widens. “Eds,” he murmurs quietly, flipping open the card. Eddie remains silent as he reads the writing inside.

 

Buck,

I love the incredible father that you are,

the attentive husband that you are,

the selfless man that you are.

I love that on my worst days, you know how to make it better.

You have the purest heart, the most sincere laugh, 

a smile that lights me up.

Thank you for sharing this life with me.

My love always,

Eds

 

“I know a kid could have made you something better—” 

Eddie barely registers the way that Buck’s eyes are shining when he looks at him across the table. “Shut up,” Buck demands, moving out of the chair and cradling Eddie’s face between his hands as he pulls him in for a messy kiss. Eddie moves easily with him, pressing himself as close to Buck as he physically can, still feeling like there’s too much distance between them. It’s been too many days since he kissed his husband, felt the heat of his body flush against him.

Eddie groans against Buck’s lips, and his stomach twists as he pulls back, breathless. “Does this mean you accept my apology?” Eddie whispers, eyes closing against the feeling of Buck’s fingers lightly moving against the nape of his neck.

“I forgive you,” Buck assures him, brushing a tender kiss against Eddie’s temple. Buck takes hold of Eddie’s hand and slots their fingers together, leading him to their bedroom. Buck pulls down the comforter, stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed and gently patting Eddie’s side of the bed. “C’mere.”

Eddie climbs into bed beside Buck, closing his eyes to the feeling of Buck’s arms wrapping around him from behind, Buck curled against his back. Buck’s lips ghost over Eddie’s skin, nearly brushing against his ear. “I’m sorry, too, Eds.” Buck tenderly kisses the back of Eddie’s neck, then drops a soft kiss against the back of his head. “Good thing I have the rest of our lives to show you.” 

The rest of their lives sounds pretty damn good to him.

Eddie hums in contentment, the blanket of Buck’s arms lulling him towards sleep.



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