Work Text:
Shannon looks hurt, betrayed. He wants to explain himself, to take her hand and tell her this isn’t what it looks like - but he turns around when he hears someone else screaming his name. Although it’s not his name, it’s-
“Dad!”
Christopher is there but it’s almost like he doesn’t see him. His eyes aren’t warm or soft, or even pleading like when he doesn’t want to go to bed just yet. His eyes are hurtful, like Eddie has somehow betrayed him.
He wants to scream his name, tries to, but all he can do is fall onto his knees and cries, silently begging his son to look at him again the way he’s used to.
“Christopher, baby, come here”, he hears behind him.
No. Chris, no. Christopher, please. But he can’t speak, nothing comes out of his mouth.
“I don’t want to be with him, mom”, he says, walking slowly past Eddie, not even looking at him.
Eddie cries and cries, and he tries to scream but he can’t, there’s something in his throat that doesn’t let him. He tries to swallow and yell, but he can’t, he can’t.
“He left us, baby, but I’m not gonna leave you, I’m here, come with me”, Shannon says, opening her arms to hug their son.
No, please, Christopher, please, come back.
“How could you? How, Eddie? You left me and then you left him, and what the hell are you doing now? How can you move on from me, from us, from everything you did? How can you do that to us?”
Shannon’s eyes are dark and torn. Eddie could handle her being mad, he could, but this isn’t anger, this is worse - it’s disappointment.
“Are you gonna do the same to him?”
Christopher hangs on to Shannon’s waist, putting his small arms around her and clinging to her body.
Christopher, please, no, please, come back.
Eddie wakes up sweating and he feels a gentle pressure against his left arm. He doesn’t turn immediately, too caught up by the quiet noise from the tv, the only source of light in the room - wherever he’s at. The pressure on his arm grows stronger and he thinks he hears someone calling out his name. For a second, he’s scared he’s still dreaming.
When he turns around, he sees someone he wasn’t expecting to see.
“Hey, Eddie, it’s okay, you were dreaming”
It’s Buck. The pressure on his left arm was his hand, fingers slightly torn over his forearm, gently shaking him awake.
Eddie frowns, not really knowing where he is or what’s going on. He licks his lips but his throat feels completely dry and for a second he wonders if he can speak.
“Uh… I- What happened?”, he asks, only to check that yes, he can speak.
Buck looks confused, but his hand doesn’t move. “Uh…”
“Where’s Christopher?”, he asks suddenly, scared, lifting his body slightly from the couch. Has Shannon taken him? No, no he can’t lose him.
“Hey”, Buck says, his body shifting closer to Eddie’s and moving his hand towards his shoulder, pressing him gently against the cushions, “Chris is fine, he’s at Bobby and Athena’s, remember? At a sleepover with Harry and Denny”
Eddie feels Buck’s warmth against his skin, even through the soft material of his top. He has a massive headache and his mouth is still dry, but he can feel himself come back to his senses. He nods, finally understanding he was just dreaming.
Buck’s hand is still over his shoulder, thumb hovering over his neck. “Do you want to talk about it? Some water? Distractions?”
Eddie stares at him. He can only see Buck’s expressions thanks to the light coming from the tv, the blue in his eyes almost not recognisable. But Eddie can see enough, can see the frown in his eyes, lips pressed together, his full attention on him.
“Are you gonna do the same to him?”
Shannon didn’t mean Christopher. She meant him.
Eddie presses both his palms against the couch and uses them as leverage to get up without giving Buck any explanation. It’s too much, he tells himself. Everything is. Maybe Shannon was right - she was always right in a way, and maybe she’s right even in dreams. Eddie left Shannon and then left their kid, and it’s been years but he still feels it like it was yesterday. Sometimes he forgets, he lets himself forget it happened - but how could he? How?
He walks towards the kitchen, almost bumping his left hip into the counter, the whole house in the darkness. He hears some shuffling but he can’t concentrate on anything that isn’t Shannon’s and Christopher’s eyes, the way they bore into his, asking him how he was able to do that to his family.
He needs water, he needs - fuck, what the hell does he need? He needs not to be this person, he needs to change, to be better, he - water, water will do. So he steps forward towards the sink, but the darkness surrounds him even more and he hits his knee against the counter, hissing in pain. “Fuck”
“Eddie? You okay?”, he hears at an unknown spot in the living room. And then someone - Buck, flips the lamp on. It’s not enough to blind him, and some spots in the kitchen are still protected by the darkness of the room, but now he can see, and all he can focus on is the sink. He remembers it used to drip, he could hear the sound of droplets of water hitting the surface at night, when everything else was quiet. He let it go for months, managed to make himself forget about it - Christopher way too tired the moment he went to bed to be disturbed by it, almost like he didn’t even notice. When Buck started coming over, he always complained about it, telling Eddie he could try and fix it himself if he was worried about the money. But Eddie always refused, “I’ll deal with it soon, don’t worry, Buckley”. The truth is it wouldn’t let him sleep sometimes, such a repetitive noise against his skull - but maybe it wasn’t the sink, maybe it was everything else. So one morning, he got up and called the plumber but he couldn’t come right away; it took weeks for him to be able to come around, and then it was more complicated that he had expected, so years passed since he noticed the sink was broken until they could finally fix it. On a Tuesday morning, the sink didn’t no longer drip, and that same Tuesday night, Eddie still couldn’t sleep. He missed the noise.
He feels Buck’s hand pressed between his shoulder blades and he jumps, unconsciously moving away from his touch.
“Sorry”,
Eddie sighs. He hates himself so much. He wants to stop everything.
Buck takes his hand away, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he comes closer, not touching Eddie, but making him his presence behind him. Buck’s not leaving, he never leaves, and he hates him for it sometimes. Shannon was right, after all. Is he gonna do the same to Buck? Is he just gonna wake up one day and leave? Leave him, he thinks, as if Buck was his to begin with. But in a way he is, isn’t he? Eddie’s been so scared, still is, absolutely terrified to put into perspective what kinda relationship they have, maybe because he can’t handle it, or maybe because he thinks he might - and he’s not sure which thought scares him more.
He feels warm, hot, the sweat clinging onto his body. The sink is long forgotten, the body behind him occupying every single part of his brain, of his body. Everything is screaming at him to either run or turn around and stay.
“I don’t deserve this”, he whispers, hoping Buck doesn’t hear.
But he does. He does. He does. He does.
“You don’t deserve what, Eddie?”, he asks, and his voice is gentle, sweet, almost like he’s whispering against his ear - he is.
He moves his head to the left and then to the other side, denying something in his head, almost as if he can hear Buck saying you do deserve it. He sighs loudly. He’s so tired.
His grip against the sink grows tighter and stronger, scared he might start floating and dissolve into pieces. But instead, he acts selfishly and presses his body against Buck’s, his back now in full contact with his chest. His head moves a bit forward, closer to the sink and the wall he’s still facing, unconsciously pressing his body even closer to the man behind him. He doesn’t want this moment to pass, but he can’t stop seeing Shannon’s eyes in the darkness of the room, in every spot the lamp doesn’t manage to reach. And this, this is what he doesn’t deserve, he doesn’t deserve Buck’s presence, the way he feels his body pressed against his, a quiet reminder that he’s here with him, for him, because of him. Eddie would hate it if he didn’t love it so much.
“This”, he says, “this is what I don’t deserve”, he simply says, half hoping Buck would just understand.
He goes stiff behind him and Eddie is suddenly scared, because the implications behind his confession might be too heavy, too intimate.
“Turn around”, he hears.
Or maybe not.
So he does, he moves his body away from Buck’s, hissing louder than he did when he hit his knee against the counter. His eyes are burning but he tries to ignore it, tries to pretend he’s one step away from breaking. Buck’s eyes are not burning, they’re a deep sea blue that only brings peace to the fire behind his. And the thing is, it’s so nice, it feels so nice, so welcoming.
Buck licks his lips, “what’s going on?”, he whispers.
Eddie presses his lips together, trying not to cry, keeping it inside him.
“I… I don’t know, Buck. What the fuck am I doing? I don’t deserve any of this, do I?”, he asks him, because at this point he just feels so scared, so lost; he’s kind of hoping for Buck to say, you don’t, no you don’t, you don’t deserve it.
“You don’t deserve what?”, he repeats.
He doesn’t touch him. His hands on both sides of his own body, and Eddie starts feeling so angry because isn’t it obvious, Buck? You, this, my son, my life. I don’t deserve any of this, and you’re not touching me so maybe that means you think I’m right. I’m right, she’s right.
“Don’t make me say it out loud”, and he hates that it comes off biter.
Buck doesn’t deflate for even a second, his eyes still boring holes into Eddie’s. “You’re gonna have to”, he says with a new found voice, a new tone, almost stern.
Eddie licks his lips and looks away. “I left Shannon, I left Christopher. And what am I doing now? Just living my life when she didn’t get to live her?”, he spits out, and it’d feel like a relief if it wasn’t so fucked up and ugly.
He doesn’t look up, unable to feel the warmth of Buck’s eyes again, but he hears the way he sighs, too loud not to. And Eddie braces himself, almost squirms before Buck can say anything. But that doesn’t come, Buck doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything, and Eddie hates him for making him look up to look for an answer. His eyes are there when he does, a faint blue, a quiet ocean. He sees the way his body shifts and his hands come up in the air, in the tiny space between their bodies; he sees the way he doubts, how his movements seem unsure and shy, and he doesn’t quite understand until he speaks.
“Are you gonna dissolve into pieces if I touch you?”
And fuck. If that isn’t exactly what Eddie was thinking about before. He hates him - well, he would if he didn’t-
“Maybe”, he says, but there’s something in his own voice he isn’t ready to discover just yet.
So Buck touches him. His right hand curves around his neck, spreading his fingers against the back of it, almost tickling the buzzed ends of his hair. Eddie can’t stop looking now, he feels trapped in the best way, like when your feet are clinging against the sand underneath the sea, but it’s not scary because you can see the beach, and the water is only over your ankles, and you’re safe, you’re safe. His left hand presses against his waist, and it’s warm, so warm Eddie just wants to dissolve now, dissolve into the other man’s touch.
He doesn’t. And Buck speaks.
“You deserve it. Everything. You deserve this life, your son, your job, your friends, your family. You-”. Is he gonna say it? Is he gonna say what Eddie is so scared of naming.
He doesn’t. He sighs instead.
“Eddie. We all make mistakes, but not everyone is brave and good enough to mend them. You came back, you take care of Christopher, you save him everyday, you make him happy. Shannon came back too, you both made mistakes but you both came back, and life is so…”, for a moment, Buck seems to feel too emotional to continue, like he might break down any second, just like Eddie himself feels. “Yeah, life sucks, doesn’t it?”, he says instead.
That startles Eddie and he starts laughing, a wet laugh that clings onto his throat. But Buck’s laughing too, so maybe not everything sucks.
Buck swallows before he continues, his thumb pressing small circles against his cheek. “Shannon dies and I hate that it happened, I hate that you and Christopher had to go through that. But she was back into Chris’ life too, even if it was just for a few days, and she died knowing her son loved her, and hey - I, yeah, I-”, he sighs before he can continue, “I’m not his dad but I know what it’s like to feel loved by him and I can assure you Shannon died feeling blessed”
Eddie knows what it’s like to be loved by Chris too, and he lets himself believe that as well, that Shannon left in peace, even if their marriage was broken.
Buck’s fingers on his waist spread too, his thumb against the beginning of his ribs, almost like he’s holding on to Eddie’s body. And yeah, when Buck opens his mouth again, Eddie kind of understands why.
“I know what it’s like to feel…”, he looks down for a second, his voice suddenly lower, before he looks up at him again, “to be in your life, too. I know how that feels like and it’s the best feeling in the world. So maybe, and hear me out here, maybe try and believe me for once, believe that what you don’t deserve is to feel worthless when you fight everyday for the things you want - the things that at the end of the day, you do deserve. But also know that if it was up to me, you’d understand that maybe you don’t have to fight for any of these things when you deserve them just by being who you are. You deserve all these things, whether that’s your son’s love, your job, your family… And, you know- Well…”
And is he gonna say it now? Is he?
Eddie can’t wait.
“You?”, he whispers, feeling his cheek turn red.
What he sees in Buck’s eyes seems a lot like hope.
He presses his hands tighter against Eddie’s body and shrugs. “Well, you don’t really have to fight for the things you already got, do you?”
Something spreads through Eddie’s chest. “I definitely don’t deserve you”, he breathes, but this time it’s not sad, it’s full of wonder, almost as if he can’t quite believe Buck is still here.
Buck chuckles silently and rolls his eyes. “Self-pity doesn’t look good on you, Diaz”, he says with a smile on his lips.
Look who’s talking, he wants to say, but he doesn’t, not wanting to break the moment.
He sighs instead. “I dreamed of her, of Shannon, asking me why I had left them. Chris was there too…”, he confesses, sighing loudly, almost defleating, “he was crying, he looked so disappointed and… Scared, fuck”
And he’s not dissolving into pieces but he does start crying, unable to hold it in for any longer. When the tears start going down his cheeks, Buck’s arms surround them and Eddie is not scared. He feels guilty and hates the way his heart beats steadier after Buck’s words, after every single movement of his body against Eddie’s - after his own hands on his back, pressing him impossibly closer, grabbing the fabric of his t-shirt inside his fists, holding on to him.
Time stretches and the guilt doesn’t leave his body for even one second, but it’s replaced with other feelings, with Buck’s smell all around him. He’s never felt more grateful for the way Buck’s shoulders stretch wider than his.
He feels a kiss on his neck, one that he’s felt before but still manages to feel like a new and wonderful chapter. And then Buck’s lips are on the spot right under his ear, his hand going behind his hair, fingers tangling between in his hair. He sighs, feels like the water is now above his knees but he’s not scared, he doesn’t mind, he won’t dissolve, he won’t run away.
He grabs Buck’s top so tight it goes slightly up, exposing his skin. Buck’s too focused on now kissing his cheek that he doesn’t even notice, or at least seems not to care. Eddie’s not crying anymore but he wants to, he wants to cry, feeling like old clay underneath Buck’s dry lips.
When it happens, it’s almost too easy to be true - because Buck just leans a tiny bit away from his body and hurries Eddie to open his eyes, scared of the new distance between them. So he does so, he opens his eyes and the only thing he sees in Buck’s face is a question and he wants to laugh, because it almost feels like no one has ever made him a question as important as this feels, as easy as this. And he wants to scream that the answer is yes, will always be yes, but he’s still feeling drowsy, still feeling like maybe, just maybe, he’s still dreaming and he’s gonna wake up and Buck is not gonna be there, he’s gonna be at his apartment, and Chris is gonna wake up screaming from a nightmare.
No, you’re here - he tells himself. Don’t let this moment slip away, don’t let the guilt eat you alive.
So he looks down at Buck’s lips and licks his own, and hopes Buck listens.
He does, he always does.
Eddie feels Buck’s lips against his, a small presence that takes away all the sorrow and sadness, that threatens to spread all over his face, and throat, and stomach, and every part the light couldn’t reach.
It only lasts for a couple of seconds and Eddie’s head falls against his chest, letting out a loud sigh, but almost feeling like he’s breathing for the first time in years. Maybe easy is the way, maybe he should go for the things that just feel easy, even if they aren’t.
Buck’s head falls against his and Eddie feels one more kiss, this time on his head, before Buck’s chin rests against his head, his right hand still pressed against the nape of this neck while his right hand leaves stains of heart and warmth on his waist.
The tv is still on and Buck is whispering when he speaks again and asks Eddie if he wants to try and go back to sleep. Eddie doesn’t, so he closes his eyes and asks if they can just stay on the couch for a bit. Of course, Buck breathes against his head.
Eddie sleeps peacefully for the rest of the night.
