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Eddie hovers at the edge of the bar, barely two steps in from the doorway, and lets out a long exhale in some half-hearted attempt to release the day’s struggles and renew himself. It doesn’t exactly work. He’s still exhausted, still feeling heavy and sluggish in a way that he isn’t used to at all. He’s not sure if he’s just really, really tired (his body is still adjusting to the 9-5 life after all) or if, maybe, this feeling has less to do with physical issues and more to do with mental hurdles.
Whatever. Eddie has been through a literal warzone, he’s been shot for Christ’s sake - he can deal with this too.
Eventually.
But, right now, he realises that he would like nothing more than to go home, curl up on the couch and listen to Buck rant about his day at work (because, as much as it pains Eddie to not be a part of that aspect of Buck’s life anymore, nothing quite beats the excited gleam in Buck’s eyes when he recounts a dangerous call). Kind of like how he’s doing now, Eddie thinks almost sourly, as his eyes settle on Buck from across the room, nursing a drink and a bright smile as he laughs at something Bobby says.
Eddie would pretend that Buck just so happens to be the easiest target for his gaze, his stupidly loud laughter floating over the din of the bar and his few inches on everyone else at the table making him the first noticeable thing in the room. It would be a lie, of course. Eddie’s eyes are always drawn to Buck first, no matter how many distractions may try to catch his attention.
And as Buck glances up from everyone else his eyes meet Eddie’s instantly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Eddie’s heart swells at that, almost (but not quite) squashing that bitter taste of you don’t belong here, you’re not a real firefighter lingering on his tongue.
It’s only as Buck throws his head back, downing the last of his beer, and exposing the long line of his throat to Eddie in the process, that Eddie notices something that causes a twang of welcome pain in his chest. He’s wearing a white hoodie. A very familiar white hoodie that, if he were to get closer, would have a coffee stain on the cuff of the sleeve.
He’s wearing Eddie’s hoodie.
He’d been looking for that for weeks now! Of course he left it at Buck’s apartment; he should’ve known.
And, of course, Buck didn’t think to return it to him.
Buck seems to know exactly what Eddie’s thinking (but, really, when doesn’t he lately?) as a smug smirk spreads over his face and he says something to the others at the table before pushing his chair back. Hen and Bobby both glance Eddie’s way, Hen offering a warm smile and a wave that Eddie is can’t help but return, but they leave Buck to come over on his own.
Which is a good decision, Eddie thinks, because the moment that Buck is within arm’s reach Eddie is grabbing a fistful of that damn hoodie and yanking him forward, closing that agonising last bit of distance between them as he crashes his lips against Buck’s. To his credit, Buck doesn’t seem very surprise by the sudden public display, simply chuckling into Eddie’s mouth as he slings his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and parts his lips.
“You’re wearing my hoodie,” is the first thing that Eddie can think to say when they finally come up for air, and he’s very aware of how gravelly his voice sounds but, if the way his pupil’s dilate, Buck doesn’t seem to mind.
“Well,” Buck’s smirk is annoyingly cute as he presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose, “hello to you too, handsome. You saved my life today.” Buck quirks a brow, looking thoughtful for a second before adding, “Again.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but he can’t quite push down that horrible spike of anxiety he gets at the reminder that, yes, Buck very almost died today. It’s an occupational hazard, Eddie knows that, but now that he isn’t the one on the end of Buck’s rope he’s starting to realise that he’s actually a little less okay with that thought than he used to be. Maybe he finally understands where Christopher was coming from.
“Hey,” Buck’s voice takes on a softer tone, a hand sliding over to cup Eddie’s face gently, like he’s something delicate and fragile. Eddie wants to be annoyed by the notion but, instead, he finds a lump forming in his throat that he has to fight to swallow back down. “I’m okay. Everybody’s okay.” He taps his index finger against Eddie’s cheekbone, smile so genuine that it physically hurts to look at. “Because of you.”
Eddie has to force himself to blink, for fear of breaking down in a fucking bar of all places.
When he’s absolutely certain that he can open his mouth and no embarrassingly broken sounds will escape, Eddie lets out a weak chuckle. “What’d you do without me, huh?” he jokes, but even he can hear the flatness in his voice.
Buck’s smile doesn’t dim, though, so Eddie supposes it’s maybe okay to let himself be just a little bit vulnerable. Sometimes. With Buck.
Face softening into a reassuring gaze, smile easy and warm, Buck frames Eddie’s face with both his palms before he says, earnestly, and close enough that Eddie can feel the words on his lips better than he can actually hear them, “I honestly don’t want to think about it.”
For lack of a better response, Eddie settles a hand at the nape of Buck’s neck and draws him back in for another, slower, kiss. Buck geos willingly, humming against Eddie’s mouth, and strokes absently along Eddie’s jawline in a way that has Eddie melting into him. This is where he belongs.
Not the firehouse. Not his dumb little office.
Buck.
Buck is where Eddie belongs.
They separate not long after, when some random firefighter accidentally bumps into Buck on his way by and they’re both suddenly reminded that they are absolutely not alone. Buck has this goofy little grin on his face, literally glowing with a happiness that Eddie wants to bask in for the rest of his life.
“C’mon,” Buck says, taking Eddie’s hand and running his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. “The team have been waiting for you to show up.”
Eddie frowns at that. He can’t help it. “Why? I’m not with the 118 anymore.”
Buck stops his attempt to drag Eddie back to the table he came from, twisting to fix Eddie with an incredulous look. “What are you talking about?” he says, his confusion made clear in his tone, even if it weren’t already obvious from the way his brows have furrowed together.
“I left.” Eddie states matter-of-factly, shrugging to hide how painful the whole thing is for him. “I’m not a firefight- No, I’m not part of the team.” he corrects himself before Buck can, “Not now.”
“Eddie,” Buck says, and only he could make one word sound both incredibly fond and disbelieving at the same time. “You will always be a part of the 118. We’re family!” And he says they’re family but, what Eddie hears, is you still belong here, with us, with me and it’s enough to have Eddie pursing his lips to keep his composure, his heart practically leaping out of his chest with the amount of joy currently flooding through him.
“I love you,” he chokes out before he can catch himself. Not that he would want to, not with the way that Buck’s face lights up, the corners of his sea-blue eyes crinkling with the force of his smile, a light dusting of pink covering his cheeks that Eddie knows isn’t a cause of the alcohol in his system.
Eddie is helpless from pulling Buck back in for another kiss.
“Love you too,” Buck whispers as he breaks the kiss, only pulling away about an inch or so as he searches Eddie’s eyes for something. Eddie doesn’t know what, but he must find it because he lets out a content sigh and then grips the back of Eddie’s head, pulling him forward and dipping his head to brush his lips over Eddie’s forehead in a barely there kiss that still manages to leave Eddie breathless.
Then, as quick as it happened, Buck pulls away and grabs Eddie’s hand again, yanking him towards the table where their friends are waiting for them. Eddie doesn’t bother fighting it. Doesn’t quite know why he would, not now. His early thoughts are gone, any negativity he’d been feeling pushed out of his system in order to make room for all of the love and warmth that Buck constantly offers him.
“I still can’t believe you stole my hoodie.” Eddie grumbles as they slip between tables and people alike.
Buck laughs, loud and unashamed, as he throws a wink Eddie’s way. Pulling a chair from the closest table and pushing Eddie into it before he reclaims the empty one next to him, Buck smirks, “You love it, really.” And he’s right, he’s absolutely right (because Buck looks fucking amazing in Eddie’s clothes and it’s something Eddie will quite possibly never get over), but that doesn’t mean he has to admit that aloud.
With an exaggerative roll of his eyes, Eddie can feel the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leans in to steal a kiss from his boyfriend, if only to keep him from spilling any more embarrassing details to their friends, who are watching with fond amusement. “Shut up.” he hisses between kisses and Buck laughs again, softer this time, as he clutches at Eddie’s jacket.
“Gladly.”