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“Hey, Eddie?”
Buck’s voice rings softly in the quiet. A casual lilt on his tongue as he says his name.
“Hm?” Eddie replies absently, watching the water stained ceiling. One of the stains is shaped like Christopher, if he squints just right. He's getting sleepy, but Buck and he promised to stay awake together, so water stain watching it is.
It takes a moment for Buck to actually continue, the pause almost long enough for Eddie to turn his head to look over to see if he's fallen asleep. They’d been talking for the past hour, but it had dwindled down progressively. The two of them content to just lie next to each other in silence.
“Tell you something?” Buck eventually says.
Shrugging, Eddie keeps his eyes fixed at the ceiling above him.
“We got time.”
Shifting, he tries to get more comfortable. There is a draft coming from his left and he can’t help but think he'll be really mad if he ends up getting sick. There is also a leaky drip somewhere nearby that is so subtle that it might just drive him insane, if he doesn't figure out where it's coming from.
“Did I ever tell you about the first time I made my lasagne?”
“The one with eggplant? My favorite?”
Soft laughter sounds from his right, Eddie can feel the vibrations underneath him from where he is lying.
“Yeah, that one. Your favorite.”
He can hear the smile in Buck’s voice.
“I thought it was Bobby’s recipe,” Eddie replies, humming once as he ponders when it was he tried that dish for the first time. Must have been a team dinner.
“It was. I asked Bobby to teach me. I had a date I wanted to impress,” Buck says, chuckling to himself as he reminisces.
Still staring up above him, he tries to make out the different shapes, imagines they’re getting bigger, but he can’t really tell in the dim lighting. He wants to get the lights, but, alas, he’s not getting up.
“Don’t tell me picking up girls is the reason why you started cooking.”
“Are you really the person to judge when you and Christopher are reaping the benefits of me having learned to cook?”
Eddie can practically hear the smirk in his voice, can almost make out the cocked eyebrow as he turns his head to look at Buck next to him. He likes that the dark hides the involuntary twitch at the corner of his own lips. Huffing, he turns his gaze back to the ceiling.
“No. No, I’m not,” Eddie concedes. He pictures Buck’s lasagne, his olfactory memory providing him with the delicious smell and it is a miracle that his stomach isn’t protesting the torturous teasing, given he hasn’t eaten anything since lunch. Their shift had ended two hours ago; they should have eaten by now. “Make it for us later?”
It stays quiet for a long time. The only sound he can make out is the muffled drip. For a beat Eddie wonders if he shouldn’t have asked. It’s already late. Too late most likely. But the image of the three of them eating his favorite eggplant lasagne together at the kitchen table is all he can think of right now. He takes in a shaky breath, before he turns his head.
“Buck?”
Maybe it’s said too softly in the quiet, the simple call of his name weighing heavily between them.
“Yeah… ‘Course. I’ll make it later,” Buck replies eventually. He coughs, trying to clear his throat. “But you’ll have to clean up.”
“Deal.”
They both huff and laugh and Eddie lets the sound ring pleasantly in his ears. Buck is always there, by his side. He doesn't know what he did to deserve that privilege.
Reaching out his hand, blindly he feels for Buck and lets his fingers gently wrap around his forearm. For a moment he simply enjoys the feel of warm, soft skin underneath his fingertips until he lets his hand travel lower, encircling his wrist to feel the beat of Buck’s heart.
“Keep talking,” Eddie says.
There is a longer beat of silence, but eventually Buck continues.
“So, I finally gather the courage to ask for a date and I get Bobby's recipe, but everything – and I mean everything – that could go wrong goes wrong that night,” he says, sighing in an endearing blend of frustration and amusement that is so Buck, Eddie can’t fight the smile forming at his lips.
“What did you do?”
“I take offense to you implying this was my fault.”
“You once told me you had a tracheotomy performed by Abby when you two were going out. At this point I have to believe disastrously is the only way you date.”
Laughing, Eddie tries to breathe through a stitch in his side. It takes him a moment and a tear rolling down the corner of his eye to gather his bearings again.
“I was nervous, okay? The date meant a lot to me. It took me months to find the courage to even ask."
Trying to think back to a time Buck was talking about having met somebody special, Eddie comes up empty. It's not like Buck tells him about every date he goes on, but this one sounds like he already had feelings.
The draft is getting bigger, perhaps just more annoying, but either way he inches a little closer to Buck, wanting to steal some of his warmth.
"I bought a single orange cosmos flower, lit the candles in my apartment, and spent hours on the right playlist to set the mood. I wanted the night to be perfect,” Buck says wistfully.
“Your date didn’t like it?”
The thought seems ludicrous to Eddie. Once Buck puts his heart into something, it’s impossible to not love it.
“Turns out I was the only one who knew it was a date. They brought a friend.”
“Ouch,” Eddie replies, imagining Buck’s disappointment when he must have opened the door to find his date not alone.
“I got flustered and I forgot the lasagne in the oven. We were starving and we had to order in during the busiest time on Friday night. While we were waiting we watched a comedy flick, the three of us, to pass the time. And when the food finally arrived, I was called into work ‘cause of a huge pile-up on the freeway where they needed extra hands.”
“Sorry, Buck,” Eddie replies, grimacing.
Buck makes an indiscernible noise Eddie doesn’t know how to parse. Turning his head to look at Buck, he can barely make out his silhouette in the dark. He wants to believe he can recognize Buck’s birthmark, would like to believe he can spot it everywhere at any time, but he knows he’s mistaken.
When Buck doesn’t continue, he struggles to listen closely to the in and out of his breathing and wonders if he’s drifted off.
“Buck. Tell me what happened next. Did you ever get a proper date?”
He squeezes Buck’s wrist, letting his fingers brush over his pulse point. Suppressing a frustrated groan at Buck’s silence, Eddie feels his own tiredness threatening to pull him under.
“Buck,” he calls him again, louder this time, while he pulls on his arm.
A sharp inhale sounds in the dark and Buck moans.
“Sorry…”
“You promised you wouldn’t fall asleep on me.”
“I k-know. Just closed my eyes for a second,” Buck says, pulling his arm out of Eddie’s hand only to hold it instead. It’s a bit clammy, Eddie notes.
“Well, don’t. You still have to tell me the ending to your story,” Eddie replies.
“That was about it,” Buck whispers back, his voice hoarse.
“You never got a second date?”
“The moment had passed,” Buck answers, shrugging.
“But you seemed to have really liked her…” Eddie says.
Buck hums his affirmative.
"You have no idea," he murmurs.
"Then why didn't you say something?"
"I’m not sure it was meant to be."
"Still think you should have said something."
What's the point in looking at somebody from afar?
"Really think so?" He asks. Eddie can hear his head shift in his direction.
"Yeah, Buck. You deserve somebody at your side that makes you happy."
He hears him hum again, imagines him smiling.
"Pretty happy already…"
He's not sure he was supposed to hear that, but in the quiet it sounded clearly like an echo in a cave. Or the drip that's still maddening Eddie.
"I thought Abby was the only one you were serious about," he wonders out loud.
"It's complicated. A lot happened back then. It's not like it went anywhere."
"You can always talk to me, you know that, right?"
"I wanted to, but you were… getting your life back on track. I didn't want to insert myself."
Frowning, Eddie tries to make sense of Buck's words, but can't even come up with a timeline when this happened. It's a constant battle to get his life in order, it seems.
"It's complicated," Buck's soft voice cuts him off, before he can protest the fact that he could ever be too involved with the mess that is his life to be there for Buck.
“But you seemed to have been really hung up on her. You even got her-”
His lungs seize at the attempt to say the next words, his vision getting blurry, suddenly. A sick realization washing over him.
“You even got her… You got her… Orange cosmos…” He says. He snaps his head to Buck, hates that he can't make his face out in the dark. "Why that flower?"
He thinks he hears a small breathless laugh coming from Buck, but there is no actual reply to his question and Eddie, at this moment in time, cannot wait, has no patience, just needs to know right now.
"Why that flower, Buck? Why did you choose cosmos?"
"Orange cosmos…" Buck merely corrects and it's driving Eddie insane. He can feel the tears pooling in his eyes.
“...I told you once, at a call, that they looked pretty,” he says, his breath stuck in his chest, painful now.
"Yeah," Buck simply replies and just one word shatters Eddie's entire existence.
It can't be true.
“It was at that old lady’s house who had a fall. She had them planted in her garden. A sea of orange cosmos,” Buck replies, his voice so thin, so soft he could barely make it out. Dread settles into his bones and he can't breathe.
The tears drip down Eddie’s face. He bites his lip as he stares at Buck’s dark silhouette next to him as vivid memories of Buck’s candlelit apartment, billowing smoke, and Christopher’s favorite kids movie flash to the forefront of his mind. He remembers Buck’s nervous laughter when he opened the door for them, remembers his shifting eyes to the set table behind him – for two with a small vase sitting in the middle, remembers the disappointed, almost sad look on his face when he had to leave abruptly.
“Why didn’t you tell me? That was years ago, Buck!” Eddie demands and yanks at their clasped hands. It elicits a painful cry out of Buck and Eddie lets go, shooting his hand further out, blindly feeling around with nothing to guide him but his suspicion. There is wetness underneath his fingertips, it's covering the surface Buck's lying on and Eddie shakes when he feels further and finds Buck's side equally wet. He jerks weakly at the touch, hisses in pain, and that's when Eddie's fingers bump into cold, ridged steel coming from a place it's definitely not supposed to, finally knows where the dripping is coming from too.
"Why didn't you tell me?!" His anger pierces through the underground rubble of a burning apartment complex that had given out beneath them the minute he and Buck had rushed inside.
“The moment had passed…” Buck repeats, his voice strained by more than just tiredness. Laced with pain and false bravado Eddie should have recognized hours ago. Not to be ignored by Buck's insistence that he was fine.
"The rod! Why didn't you tell me?!" He asks, shouts really, his vision getting fuzzy. His sluggish brain is trying to run a million things through, goes back over their fall, wondering how he could have missed such a critical injury even in the dark, how he didn't realize Buck was keeping it from him when he's usually such a terrible liar, how he didn't know it had been a date .
Darkly, Eddie remembers that night must have been around the time before he reconnected with Shannon, but had he known… Had he known… It would have changed everything.
"Nothing you could have done, Eddie. We're stuck. Didn't want to upset you…" He breathes out with much difficulty and all it does is fuel Eddie's anger.
“I'm the paramedic! I'm your partner! You tell me anyway! I could've- I could've stopped the bleeding, fought harder to find a way to get us out, just called for help, anything ! If you had just told me!" He gasps out, a sob tearing out of him against his will. The helplessness bleeds through him, cold and terrifying. "I didn’t know it was a date! You should have told me!"
"I just wanted to lie next to you, Eddie…"
His voice is a mere whisper, not even affected anymore by Eddie's insistent press to Buck's side, a useless attempt to hold him together, that should have him screaming under normal circumstances.
He grabs his hand instead and tucks, desperate to keep him conscious.
"Stay awake, Buck! Help is coming. The team is outside working to get us out. Just hang on, Buck!"
There is no response until Eddie shouts his name again, loud and filled with terror. A small gasp sounds in the dark, followed by an even quieter whisper.
"Tell you something?" Buck says a second time tonight, slurs this time. The relief is like a punch. Eddie thought for a moment he would never hear his voice again. Doesn't know how he would bear those having been his last words.
"Tell me anything…"
"I love you."
The breath gets stuck in his throat, like a lump he can't swallow away. Maybe he was wrong. Those words are infinitely worse.
“Buck…”
“...love you, Eddie… so much.”
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He sobs, squeezing his hand. He tries not to break when he doesn't get a response, when the hand in his goes slack. "Buck!"
One more time he pulls at his hand, can feel his body move with the motion, but Buck stays unresponsive. Desperately, he searches for his pulse point again, barely feeling it underneath his fingertips.
“Buck! Wake up! I said, wake up!”
He chokes, feeling himself slowly succumbing to his panic.
Crying out loud from the overwhelming pain, he pulls himself on his side as best as he can, despite his lower body still being pinned by the debris they’re buried under. Desperation allows him to crawl closer to Buck and to ignore the agonizing pain the movement induces. Every inch is hard won. With a shaky hand he feels for Buck’s face, his trembling fingers trying to feel a puff of air on his cold lips.
“Come on! You don’t get to die on me now! Not after dropping this on me! Breathe, damn it!”
A frustrated sob rips out of him, when he just can’t free himself out of his pinned state. When he comes to the realization that he can’t save Buck. That he’s right next to him and he can’t do anything. That the man just confessed his feelings for him with his dying words.
“D-Don’t you leave me… Fight! Come on, don’t give up now! Fight, Buck!”
His fingers cradle the side of his face, angling him toward him even when he can’t see him in the dark. He’s so still. Eddie can’t feel him breathe, can’t feel the smile pulling at his cheek whenever he looks at him, the little crinkles around his eyes… Can’t hear the excitement in his voice, that infectious laugh, or the soft way he says Eddie’s name. Never did he think there would come a day he turned around and Buck wouldn’t be there right by his side. The thought is too painful to bear.
“Please…” He whispers, inhaling shakily. The tears won’t stop flowing. He begs now, unashamed. “I’ll go on a second date with you. We’ll make up for the first one. You don’t even have to cook. I’ll take you somewhere really nice. I promise… Just stay alive. All you have to do is stay alive… Please, Buck…”
It's unfair, he thinks. Unfair that the realization of how much this man means to him comes now when he's helpless to do anything about it. When the warmth is seeping out of him with every passing second. It's just not fair.
"You should have told me…"
Maybe then they wouldn’t be here right now, in this god forsaken place.
With a loud bang the wall to his left collapses. Loose debris from the ceiling is coming down and Eddie immediately cradles Buck's head to shield him from the rocks and plaster. The makeshift cave they're in floods with sudden light and dizzying noise.
"They're here! We found them!"
Eddie can't even make out the voice despite its familiarity, merely begs the person for help. Begs them to save Buck.
"It's okay. We're here now, Eddie," he hears Chim's voice from his side, but his gaze is stuck on Buck next to him, pale and bloody, impaled by a rebar to concrete underneath them. All this time they were lying side by side and he hadn’t known. How could he not have known?
"He lost a lot of blood, possible other injuries, stopped breathing a minute ago," he rattles off, his military training kicking in. He's thankful for it now, knows he can't fall apart yet.
"Not today, Buck," Hen says determinedly as she cuts off his shirt and hooks him up to the monitor. Absently, he notices the team talking to him, but his whole being is tuned to just one channel right now. All he can do is focus on Buck as Hen starts resuscitation.
"...Eddie? Eddie!"
"...He's in shock…"
"...Ravi and I will lift the slab. Is it safe for you to pull him out?"
"...Eddie! Come on, man. Tell me, can you feel your legs? Any injuries to your back?"
He's rattled out of his reverie, his gaze losing Buck for a moment, but he can still see the flat line on the monitor.
"Buck… You can't let him d-die…"
"Hey, Eddie, look at me," that's Bobby's gentle but authoritative voice talking to him and it sounds too much like an order for Eddie to ignore, so he looks up to see his captain crouched above him. "We will do everything we can to save him. You know this. Trust us."
The words sink in, slowly but in time, and Eddie nods. He needs to keep an eye on Buck, but this time he listens to the assessment questions Chim directs at him and answers them clipped and to the best of his knowledge. He can move his legs no more than a twitch, they're so numb by now he barely feels them. He has a headache too, but minimal, probably more induced by stress than head trauma.
"Good, Eddie. We're going to pull you out in a moment. Bobby and Ravi are ready with the jack. We're only waiting for Buck to stabilize, okay? Then we'll get you both out of here."
Eddie knows it's disconcerting when Chim isn't even making a quip about Buck taking a nap at work. When he uses his soothing voice reserved for traumatized victims.
Reaching out his hand, he grabs for Buck's and just silently begs. The tears don't come for now, perhaps as frozen as most people in the room who wait with bated breath for Buck's heart to beat for them again.
"I got a pulse!" Hen shouts.
He sees the line on the monitor strike out again and Eddie squeezes his eyes closed, not because he can't bear to look, but because he wants to let the image sink in, let the relief wash over him without being completely swept away by it.
"There we go, Buckaroo. Good job," he hears her say. The buzz is back, everybody hustling to get them out of there.
"...The rebar is weakened below him. We should be able to cut it without jostling him too much..."
"...Good, but first, let's get the slab off them…"
"...On three…"
Being pulled out is a blur, being treated even more so. He's useless right now, he knows. Has been useless this whole time and it almost cost him his partner. Almost cost him Buck. Might still.
He watches them rush him out once they cut him free and the only thing that remains is the pool of blood where Buck had been lying next to him for hours, pretending he was fine. The reminder is clawing at him, hooking into him, his chest and throat tightening. It's so visceral, he can't fight it.
"...He's having a panic attack…"
"...Breathe, Eddie. Calm down…"
"...He's okay. You saw we got him back…"
"...Second evac is on standby. Let's get him out…"
"...Eddie, I'm going to give you a sedative. It should help with the pain too…"
"I didn't know," he whispers and then pulls the oxygen mask off his face under protest. "I didn't know."
"What didn't you know?" Bobby asks gently and he can feel himself get lifted and rattled around as they make their way out of Eddie's most recent nightmare.
"Everything…"
He sees Bobby and Chim exchange confused glances between them, before he blocks everything out by pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"I should have known…"
There is a slur in his voice now and his arms feel like weights. When they fall away, the mask is rearranged properly on his face. It should feel easier to breathe, but he's not sure it ever will. He's suffocating under the weight of what he had missed, of what it almost cost him.
"Whatever it is, you can figure it out later, I promise. Rest now, Eddie," Bobby says and it's an order his eyes comply with seconds after.
-
There are water stains on the hospital room’s ceiling which Eddie has studiously ignored since he arrived. The window remains closed whenever he’s in the room too and the lights are always on. He can’t do much about the quiet at this point of night, but at least the IV dripping next to the bed is silent enough he can’t hear it. At least he knows it’s not the sound of his best friend bleeding out beside him this time.
He hasn’t touched him yet. Buck lying unresponsive in bed reminds him too much of the time he stopped breathing and his hand went slack in his. Eddie is content to merely look at him from where he is sitting next to his bed. To see the steady rise and fall of his chest and the active heartbeat monitor in his peripheral vision.
Quietly, he watches how Buck opens his eyes for the first time since he’s fallen unconscious on scene yesterday. It’s sluggish in the beginning, eyes shutting instantly again at first, but Eddie watches how Buck gradually pierces through the veil of sleepy haziness.
Buck shifts and their eyes meet. Caught by surprise, Buck drinks him in and Eddie merely watches him doing so.
Licking his lips, Buck opens his mouth to speak, but his voice immediately cracks and he starts to cough.
Eddie reaches for the cup of water on the bedside table, puts the straw in it, and then holds it out to Buck. His eyes dart between Eddie and the cup, hesitating for a moment before taking it from him. Eddie makes sure he has a firm grip on the cup before he lets go and then leans over to control the bed, so that Buck can sit up. He throws the remote on the mattress when he’s done and then leans back in his chair.
Bemused, Buck watches him, forgetting for a moment to drink. Eventually, he sips the water in careful intervals and when he’s had enough, he even manages to put the cup back by himself.
His eyes shift, watching Eddie unsure. Eddie doesn’t wait long for Buck to speak up.
“How mad are you?”
Eddie has his head resting on his hand, his eyes locked on Buck.
“Furious.”
Buck grimaces. Immediately, he opens his mouth to say something, but then holds back, apparently thinking his response over first.
“What exactly are you mad about?” He asks carefully.
He hopes the glare Eddie directs at him is clear enough. It must be when Buck sighs defeated in response.
“So, all of it…” Buck murmurs. “Look, Eddie, I’m sorry. I never wanted to upset you-”
“We’re past upset at this point, Buck.”
“I-I know, okay? I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“How about the truth for once?” Eddie responds explosively as he sits up in his chair.
Contrite, Buck struggles to respond.
“I just couldn’t seem to tell you. I-I considered it, but it wouldn’t have changed anything and so I thought-”
“What? That you’d keep quiet about being impaled, slowly bleeding out two feet away from me? Or that you’d just fill the time we could have been spending to find a way to save your life with secretly coded stories about eggplant lasagne? Or that you’d tell me you love me and then go ahead and die?”
“It wasn’t exactly planned to be trapped down there. I thought I wouldn’t get another chance to tell you,” Buck replies, trying to explain.
“You had years to tell me at this point, Buck,” Eddie shoots back, eyes darting away from him, too worked up to look at him right now. He shifts in his seat, still getting used to the cast.
“Are you okay?” Buck asks, eyeing his broken leg with concern, like he’d been anxious to ask about it since he woke up and noticed it for the first time.
“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie replies, annoyed and with a sigh. He jerks his head to Buck’s own leg that’s currently in a cast. “Clean fracture. It will heal just fine. But we’re stuck like this for a while.”
He can see the relief radiating off Buck’s whole frame and feels slightly bad now for not telling him right away. He must have been worried waking up to yet another broken leg, given the unfolding events last time this happened. Eddie has just been so angry ever since the initial panic and despair had subsided and he’d learned that Buck would be fine. He doesn’t know how he’s possibly going to get over Buck lying.
“Eddie,” Buck says, his voice soft.
Immediately, Eddie’s eyes close at the painful reminder that he’d thought he’d never hear Buck call for him again. Lives in the memory for a moment where he had begged Buck to stay with him.
When Buck calls his name again, coaxing him gently to look at him, Eddie grits his teeth and meets his eyes, even though he can feel them burning with the effort not to cry.
Buck reaches his arm out on the mattress, holding his hand out for Eddie.
It’s no longer covered in blood and grime, the rosy tinge to it looking warm and inviting.
Quietly, Buck stares at him from under his lashes and Eddie thinks Buck is unfair. How is he supposed to hold onto his anger like this?
Leaning forward, he takes Buck’s hand. They stare into each other’s eyes and the simple moment grounds Eddie. Settles the both of them, he can read it in Buck’s face.
“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Buck says, squeezing his hand.
Taking a deep breath, Eddie shakes his head.
“No more lies, Buck.”
“I promise,” he replies, nodding.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, Eddie releases a tired sigh. In retrospect he’s just glad Buck is alive and that he finally knows. It’s a lot easier to forgive when the alternative would have been to stare at an empty bed right now. Plus, apparently, Buck has found a way to dispel his anger with just a look. It’s slightly terrifying to imagine the power Buck holds over him. Whatever will Eddie do in the future, if he can’t fall back on bad habits anymore?
Buck rubs Eddie’s hand and then starts playing with his fingers, all the while shifting his gaze between their entwined hands and the hospital blanket.
“Can I ask you… where we stand?” He asks carefully.
A question Eddie had been agonizing over himself, wondering what he’d tell Buck once he woke up. His feelings caught him by surprise, so did his own. Now that he stares at Buck, back at his side where he belongs, it’s a lot easier to answer than he’d thought.
“Simple,” Eddie replies, catching Buck’s idle fingers in his hand, wrapping them gently in his. In nervous anticipation Buck meets Eddie’s eyes. “You owe me an eggplant lasagne and even though you were unconscious for this part, I promised you I’d take you on a proper date.”
Buck’s eyes widen, his lips parting as if he’s left speechless.
“R-Really?” He asks eventually.
“Yes. This time I won’t bring Christopher, I promise,” he replies.
“You can always bring him. I mean it. I was always just happy being by your side,” Buck says and Eddie can see it in his eyes that he means it. Buck would have stayed by his side forever, content to be his best friend and partner.
“I believe you, but for what I intend to do with you, I really can’t bring Christopher,” Eddie replies, cocking his eyebrow and pursing his lips.
That coaxes a surprised laugh from Buck and Eddie refamiliarizes himself with the sound.
When he looks up now, Buck is no longer staring at Eddie as if he doesn’t dare blink for fear of misreading the situation. He looks more relaxed. Happy.
“Fair warning, I’ve been told that dating me typically ends in disaster,” he says, chuckling.
“Oh, I get the picture. A whole building had to come down on us for you to admit your feelings for me. Trust me, I know what I’m getting into.”
Huffing, Eddie rolls his eyes.
“If you know a better way to convey the depth of my feelings, let me know,” Buck replies, laughing, embarrassed.
He hesitates only for a second, before he tucks at Buck’s hand.
“Tell you something?” he says.
Blinking a few times, bemused, Buck stares at him.
When he looks at Buck expectantly, waiting for his reply, it shakes him out of his stupor.
“Tell me anything,” he replies softly, with bated breath.
“I love you too.”
Lifting Buck’s hand, he kisses his fingers and then leans his cheek against it, staring into pretty blue eyes.
He wishes it didn’t have to take years in oblivion, a collapsing building, and Buck almost dying for Eddie to realize his feelings for the man at his side, but at this point all that he can do is move forward. He isn’t willing to waste one more minute.
Maneuvering himself a lot more skillfully with a leg in a cast than he thought he would, he stands up and shifts, so he’s sitting on the mattress at Buck’s side. He reaches forward, cradling the side of Buck’s face with his hand, and then leans down.
Slowly and softly, he presses his lips against Buck’s in a chaste kiss.
Had he known kissing Buck would feel like this, like coming home, he would have done it years ago.
“I l-like your way better,” Buck whispers breathlessly after they’ve parted, noses still touching.
“Take notes then,” Eddie replies with a smile, before he leans back in again.
So much better than collapsing buildings, Eddie agrees.