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It’s just a sprained ankle. He didn’t even have to have it checked out beyond Hen wrapping it up for him, mostly to make her feel better since he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. But everyone had been watching him closely, warily.
He knew why, and he tried to be patient with them, to not let his frustration at the kid gloves and cautious voices the team had adopted get to him. Eddie knew that it was probably all subconscious, they weren’t doing it on purpose. Today he had landed wrong jumping down from a ledge during a rescue, a few months ago he had been trapped under forty feet of collapsed earth with no choice but to swim blindly and hope he made it out before he drowned. If the tables were turned, he couldn’t say he wouldn’t be behaving in the same way.
He let them talk him into changing out of his uniform and corral him onto the couches in the loft to wait out the end of the shift, because why not. He’s going to be sitting on a couch here or at home, might as well be here where he can indulge in letting his friends dote on him. As if they heard his thoughts Hen made him a mug of tea, Bobby brought him a plate of food, heck, Chim gave him control of the television. And Buck was just close. He would never complain about Buck being close, not on his life.
Eddie was unprepared then for when he stood up and his ankle gave out. It was, after all, just a sprain. He had gotten up too quickly, hadn’t thought he needed to go slow.
“Whoa, I’ve got you, Eddie”, Buck’s proximity pays off when he’s able to catch Eddie before he falls on his face. “I got you.”
And he did have him. Eddie may have let himself be held a little longer than was strictly necessary to get stabilized because it felt so nice in Buck’s arms and he smelled amazing. Seriously, no one had any business smelling that good at the end of a twelve-hour shift. There were however unintended consequences, Buck was now convinced that Eddie was underselling the severity of the sprain and how much pain he was in and insists on driving him home.
And practically carrying him down the stairs.
Making himself a human crutch as they walked through the bay and out to the parking lot.
Fussing over him when he helps him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.
Most of Eddie hated what felt like unnecessary worry. But a not too small portion of him also relished being the sole focus of Buck’s attention. He could admit to himself as they pulled into his driveway that perhaps he had underestimated the sprain, his ankle had started to throb quite a bit during the drive.
When he stepped out of the Jeep he did so much more gingerly than when he had gotten up from the couch back in the loft, and he waited for Buck to come around the hood before he started walking towards the door, letting Buck grip his arm to help support him without comment.
“Buck, your’re here!” Christopher’s happy voice rang out once he spotted them, followed by a much quieter, “is everything okay with Dad?”
“I’m fine buddy, just twisted my ankle so Buck made sure I got home okay.”
Buck belatedly lets go of Eddie’s arm before answering Christopher himself, “You know me, I’ll find any excuse to come see my favorite Diaz.”
Christopher gives them hugs in turn and then heads down the hall to heed Carla’s instructions to wash up before dinner. Buck returns his hand to Eddie’s arm and helps him walk to the dining room table where Carla is putting out place settings.
“Twisted ankle Eddie?”
“Yeah, I landed funny jumping down during a rescue. I’m fine, you know how Buck worries.”
The aforementioned man rolls his eyes in mock exasperation, “Yep, and that same ankle absolutely isn’t bothering you more as the night goes on.”
Eddie just glares, glad when they both drop the conversation as Christopher comes back in and all four settle in to eat, Carla having decided she wanted to stay a little longer herself.
Dinner passes companionably, Eddie perhaps a little glad that his ankle has meant he and Christopher had company for dinner. He tries to disguise the pain in his ankle when he stands up, Buck giving him some cover by having Christopher help Carla gather her things so she could head home, quietly and efficiently moving Eddie to the couch, whispering in his ear, “Yep, totally fine.”
Eddie was not turned on by having Buck’s breath play over his ear when he did so, absolutely not.
Buck stays the rest of the evening, setting Eddie up on the couch with his leg propped on pillows on the coffee table, an icepack for his swollen ankle, some painkillers to take care of the discomfort he must read so easily on Eddie’s face. He double checks Christopher’s homework is finished and helps him get his schoolbag set for the next day, gets him to change into his pajamas and sends him to join Eddie on the couch to watch a little television before bed, switching out the icepack before Eddie can tell him not to bother.
Eddie hears him puttering around the house: doing dishes, and he’s pretty sure putting on a load of laundry. Which… while not the strangest thing Buck has ever done certainly not what Eddie had expected when he had brought Christopher in to sit with Eddie.
“Buddy, you know why Buck didn’t come watch TV with us?” He’s not above using his son as a source of information.
“He said my job was to sit with you and make sure you stayed here and relaxed and his job was to make sure that all the chores you usually do on your day off were done since your ankle needs to rest.”
Well, that explained the sounds of the washer and dryer going. Dishes and laundry … oh hell Buck was going to clean their bathroom. He’d already cleaned the kitchen, it was the next logical thing on the list.
“Buck – don’t you dare clean the bathroom!”
Eddie was not pleased with the laugh he heard coming down the hallway, “Too late, Eds.”
It was still a few minutes before Buck joined them on the couch, settling in on the other side of Christopher with his arm stretched along the back of the couch. Eddie noticed, probably belatedly, that Buck had changed into sweats that looked suspiciously like his.
It took everything in Eddie not to lunge across to couch and kiss the breath out of Buck, how was he expected not to fall in love with him? The man fit so seamlessly into their lives, just took care of them so well. Eddie satisfied himself with just staring at him. Buck must have felt his gaze, he turned his head and gave Eddie a small smile, gently running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
Oh. That was new.
So Eddie tried something new himself and gently laid his head back against Buck’s arm, sliding ever so slightly down the couch to accommodate it, and was pleased at the contented hum from the other side of the couch.
At the end of the episode Buck gently removes his arm from behind Eddie’s head and leans down to Christopher, whispering in his ear. Chris turns to Eddie and gives him a hug and says goodnight, following Buck down the hall. Eddie can hear the pair going through Christopher’s bedtime routine. He hears Buck tell Christopher goodnight and expects the other man to return to the couch, but it’s a few more minutes before he does.
“Now what were you up to?”
“Oh, I just folded the load of laundry that came out of the drier before it could get wrinkled. But I left the basket in your room after I put the new sheets on the bed.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Eddie can’t quite keep the warmth out of his voice or off his face.
“I know. How’s the ankle?”
Buck gestures for Eddie to turn on the couch and reaches for his injured leg, never stopping talking while he does so, “I was thinking if you’re ankle feels better tomorrow I’d let you come with me to the grocery store, otherwise I’ll just run out myself and pick up the basics.”
“Let me?”
“We’ll see how the night goes.” Buck rests Eddie’s ankle on his own thigh and begins gently prodding along the bone checking for any injury that Hen may have missed. Eddie knows she didn’t, but he doesn’t stop Buck.
“So, you’re staying?”
“Yep, you’re stuck with me Eds.” Buck runs his fingers around Eddie’s ankle, checking that the swelling has begun to recede, looking for any bruising that might have developed over the past few hours.
Eddie can’t be blamed, really, for the small gasp that escapes him under Buck’s tender care.
“Did that hurt?”
“No Buck, didn’t hurt.”
Buck looks up from where he had been studying Eddie’s ankle to study his face instead, Eddie’s ankle still in his hands, absentmindedly rubbing gentle circles there with his thumbs.
“Well that’s good then,” an enormous glowing smile breaks across Buck’s face, “it would be counterproductive if my touch didn’t feel good.” Buck holds Eddie’s gaze while continuing those gentle circles, moving his hands slightly up Eddie’s leg to massage his calf as well.
“Buck…” Eddie had no idea what to do if Buck meant to be doing what he was doing. He always assumed, had made himself assume, that Buck was a bit oblivious to how flirty he could be with him.
“Um hmm?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of you, and you’re letting me for a change.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” Buck lifts his hands from where they are on Eddie’s ankle and hooks them behind Eddie’s knees, pulling him across the couch until he was practically in his lap, “so will you let me, please?”
Eddie can’t quite shake lingering doubts, “I don’t know why you’d want to,” is what traitorously escapes before he can stop it.
“Not to be too forward Eddie, but I chose this family for a reason, you know.”
“Oh?” Eddie can’t help but focus on chose this family. Is this actually happening, and does he have a stupid sprained ankle to thank for it?
“Yes. I’m in love with you, have been. I feel most at home with you and Christopher, most myself.”
Eddie was pretty sure his heart was going to escape his chest, “Me too.”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Please.”