Work Text:
“You sure you’re okay? Nothing else I need to be worried about?” Eddie asks, voice pitched low so as not to carry through the rest of the station and gain them any more attention.
“Eddie, I’m fine. Promise.”
He glances away from the med bag he’s rifling through to meet Buck’s eyes and really take him in. There’s a scuff on his chin, still seeping blood, from where his face met the pavement, but it’s really just a glorified scrape. His palms are torn up from his landing; knees and elbows would be too if it weren’t for the protection of his turnout gear. Eddie knows, made him strip out of it just to be sure. Those blue eyes are clear though, no sign of confusion or pain or head injury, but still …
“Any headache?”
“Other than the one you’re giving me?” Buck quips back.
Eddie cuts him a stern glare to which Buck just groans.
“No headache. No nausea. Never lost consciousness,” Buck tells him, monotone. “I’m painfully aware of every embarrassing second, thanks so much.”
“Helmet protected your thick skull,” Eddie remarks, smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Your ribs okay? You landed pretty hard on your right side.”
As he’s talking, Eddie skims his hands gently over Buck’s side, fingers pressing in along his ribs feeling for any weakness. Buck hisses in response, tries to slap Eddie’s searching hands away, but he won’t be thwarted. Eddie eases the edges of his t-shirt up to reveal the bright red splotch on his side which promises to be a bruise by tomorrow.
“Bruised and sore, like I said.”
Eddie brushes his knuckles lightly over the mottled skin before conceding. He turns his attention to Buck’s abraded palms, skin raw and angry after having the first few layers violently scraped away by an impromptu meeting with the roadway. Like his chin, these little gouges are weeping blood, but are relatively minor. Quickly and efficiently, Eddie cleans them out, ridding it of dirt and grit, before he gently starts to wrap layers of gauze over the broken skin to protect it.
“You bang anything else?”
Buck’s eyebrows shoot up in shock for a moment before he waggles them suggestively. “You. Yesterday.”
“Idiot,” Eddie huffs, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “I’m being serious.”
He flicks his eyes over to where Hen and Chim have been hovering suspiciously close for the last few minutes. At first, he thought they were just concerned, anxious over the freak accident Buck found himself victim to once again. Now though, he’s pretty sure they’re just hanging around for their own amusement. Judging by the way Hen has a hand clamped over her mouth and Chim is practically doubled over in stitches, they’re definitely being entertained. His stern glare does nothing to dissuade them; in fact, it only makes Hen cackle out loud.
“Eddie, I swear to you, I’m okay,” Buck tells him, all notes of joking gone from his voice. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired and sore. And the only thing I want more than a nap on the couch with you is probably a bowl of Bobby’s mac and cheese. But a nap will do.”
In the face of his blinding smile, Eddie feels himself start to relax. His thumbs stroke softly over the edges of the bandage on the hand still cradled between his own.
For one heart stopping moment today, he thought the worst. They’d all heard the screech of tires, and a sickening thump, and they were moving on autopilot. When Eddie’s boot had hit the ground and saw Buck laying feet from that car, sprawled across the pavement unmoving, it felt like the bottom had fallen out of his world. Before Eddie could even make it out the street, though, Buck was already moving, pushing up to his hands and knees, trying to shake it off.
There’d been no crazy stunt or reckless maneuver, he’d only been trying to stop traffic so the ladder truck could back in the bay. Except the kid coming down the road was texting and never saw Buck standing in the middle of the street. It was only Buck’s reflexes that saved him from being plowed over by the Prius, diving out of the way at that last second. It had taken both Hen and Chim to get the kid out of the car and calmed down before she hyperventilated. Eddie, though, had made a beeline for his partner, needed to see that he was okay with his own two eyes. That knot of tension still hasn’t completely unclenched from his stomach despite Buck’s chipper attitude and easy smile.
“So what you’re saying is I’m second place to mac and cheese?” Eddie tries for offended but it falls somewhere in-between incredulous and amused.
Buck is saved from having to answer by the arrival of Bobby.
“How we doing over here?”
“All good, Cap,” Buck grins up at him.
Bobby’s eyes rove over Buck before they settle on Eddie. A single raised eyebrow asks his question again.
“All good, Cap,” Eddie repeats, giving Buck’s bandaged hand one last squeeze before he releases it. “Just scrapes and bruises. Most of the damage is to his ego.”
“Hey!”
Eddie smirks at Buck’s outrage, pulling off his gloves and cleaning up the supplies scattered across the gurney next to Buck’s hip.
“Good to hear,” Bobby’s eyes sweep over Buck again, like he just doesn’t quite believe they were that lucky. Eddie gets it, he can’t believe it either. “Any requests for dinner?”
Buck’s eyes widen, child-like glee stealing across his face. “Mac and cheese?” he asks hopefully.
Eddie is smart enough to look away, tucking his lips between his teeth to hide his smile before their Captain can see it.
“Fine,” Bobby just sighs and nods, giving in easily. “But only because you’re man behind for the rest of the night and can take care of the dishes.”
Buck’s smile quickly flips into a frown as the Captain gives his shoulder a squeeze and walks away. Eddie takes pity on him, sliding his hand across Buck’s lower back and pulling him close.
“Why don’t we get you something for that headache you don’t have,” because Eddie knows he has a headache despite how much he’s trying to hide it, “and you can take a nap on the couch until dinner is done.”
“Okay,” Buck pouts. Eddie leans in and, in a rare display of affection at work, presses a kiss to the corner of his lips. It’s enough to have Buck grinning again.
Eddie manhandles him up to the loft and gets him settled on the couch. His intent is to leave him there so he can keep working, he is in charge of cleaning the bathrooms today after all. That plan is thwarted, however, by Buck’s bandaged hand wrapping around his wrist and tugging him down to the couch. With a sigh, Eddie goes willingly, allowing Buck to tuck up against his side.
Finally giving his body a moment to relax, Eddie can admit Buck is right. It’s been a long shift and he is exhausted. So he drapes his arm around Buck’s shoulders and pulls him closer, props his boots up on the table next to Buck’s so their toes are touching. In the kitchen behind him, Bobby starts to cook, the soft thunk of a blade on the cutting board, the hiss of the burners, the soft bubble of water boiling. Below them the crew continues to work, voices fading to a soft murmur. Radios buzz with dispatch chatter, boots thump across the floor, weights clang, doors close, the bay door rattles open, a truck rumbles to life, all layers of a soothing lullaby they know well.
It doesn’t take long before the weight against Eddie’s shoulder grows heavier, Buck’s head rolling to rest against him. He doesn’t need to look to know Buck’s asleep, can tell by the easy cadence of his breathing and the way his fingers have gone lax in Eddie’s grip. He turns his head and presses a quick kiss to the top of Buck’s head while no one is looking.
There are worse places to be stuck for an hour or so. And unless an emergency comes in, he doesn’t plan on going anywhere else.