Work Text:
"You didn't have to wait up." Buck says as he closes the front door behind him and toes off his shoes in the pale light of the hallway lamp.
"I know," Eddie says from the couch. He's got a mug of half-cold camomile tea in his hands and a cushion in his lap as he leans back against the arm of the couch. He draws his knees up to his chest as Buck perches on the couch next to him. He looks tired but more relaxed than he did before he left earlier that afternoon. "But I wanted to make sure you got in alright."
"I have a key." Buck's mouth quirks at the corner and his eyes sparkle, and Eddie's traitorous heart skips a beat.
"Not what I meant." He says.
Buck reaches for the blanket in the basket next to the couch and offers Eddie one end of it as he drapes it over his own knees. Eddie offers him his mug and Buck chuckles before accepting it and drinking what is left of Eddie's tea.
"I could have made my own."
"I know, but you just sat down."
Buck hums in response and relaxes back against the back of the couch, Eddie bravely tucks his toes under Buck's thigh and reveals in Buck's touch as his hand clasps around Eddie's shin through the blanket, the now empty mug abandoned on the coffee table.
"How was Maddie?" Eddie asks quietly.
Buck's hand rubs up and down his shin and Eddie's not sure if he realizes he's doing it, the repetitive motion most likely a subconscious, self-soothing action. "Good. We talked, and she meant well, with all the visitors and the–the meals. I guess I hadn't really thought about–. I don't know."
His hand stops and slides down onto the blanket.
"I'm sorry, by the way." Buck says and when Eddie raises a brow at him he shrugs. "For dying I guess."
Eddie is surprised by the laugh that bubbles out of him, both humorous and cynical. "Wasn't your fault."
"I know but–."
"We've been here before, Buck." Eddie reaches for his hand and plays with Buck's fingers instead of meeting his gaze. "You can't control the weather. I'm just glad you're okay."
Buck relaxes and his fingers fold around Eddie's, just holding. "Me too."
They're quiet for a while, letting the soft yellow light of the hallway bulb drape over them and listening to the branches of the orange tree scratch against the window pane.
"I haven't been sleeping much," Buck whispers and Eddie squeezes his hand, prompting him to continue when he's ready. "Every time I wake up I'm scared I'm back in that place, in the dream."
Eddie runs his thumb along the bumps of Buck's knuckles.
"I wasn't scared like that today."
"What do you mean?"
"When I came here today I really wasn't planning on taking a nap on your couch but when I woke up–." Buck pulls his hand away and rubs both of his palms up his face and Eddie watches his chest expand and his shoulders rise as he takes in a deep breath. "I knew exactly where I was when I woke up, and I wasn't scared. I haven't felt like that since I got out of the hospital."
Eddie might have to go back to the cardiologist because something is definitely wrong with his heart, the way it stutters irregularly. Something in him blooms at the thought of his home being a safe place for Buck.
"You can stay here," Eddie says before he can stop himself. "For as long as you need."
Buck's smile is small and quiet. "Thanks, Eddie. I wouldn't want to hang about like a bad smell but I appreciate the offer."
"You smell just fine to me." Eddie jokes even as he feels his cheek turn pink. " I mean it Buck, you're always welcome here."
"I like being here," Buck admits quietly.
Eddie cups a hand around the ball of Buck's shoulder and squeezes until Buck looks up at him. "I like it when you're here, too."
It's Buck's turn to blush as he ducks his head bashfully and fists his hands in the blanket. Eddie can see him biting the inside of his cheek before he asks, "Can I stay here tonight?"
Eddie reaches for him with both hands. "Come here."
It takes a moment for Buck to understand what he means but eventually he leans to the side and then rotates until he is lent against Eddie's chest, curled into his side with his head on Eddie's shoulder, the both of them tucked closely together under their shared blanket.
At first, Buck is stiff and awkward with long limbs and sharp joints digging into all the softest parts of Eddie but as Eddie runs his hand up Buck's spin and slides down to lay almost flat on the couch, his head resting on the armrest, Buck relaxes into him and they slot into place like puzzle pieces.
"Get some rest, okay," Eddie says. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"Promise?" Buck whispers and his lips brush against Eddie's collarbone sending a shiver skittering across his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"Always."
Buck's hand clutches at the fabric of Eddie's t-shirt and Eddie turns his nose into his curls. In the morning they'll regret not moving to a real bed, each of them too long, too broad, and on the wrong side of thirty to be sleeping together on a couch through the night. But there's a promise to having Buck held tightly in the circle of his arms, his heartbeat tapping out a rhythm against Eddie's side. Steady, sure, and alive.
The blanket is warm and the slow puffs of Buck's breath against his skin lull Eddie to sleep.