Work Text:
The knock on Buck’s door isn’t entirely unexpected. He doesn’t know what to do with it, though, doesn’t know how to exist in this strange liminal space where Eddie’s back but everything is still different.
A few months ago, Eddie would’ve used his key and walked straight in. A few months ago, Buck would’ve welcomed him with open arms. As it stands, he hesitates. Just for a moment, but—
It’s been a long time since Buck was hesitant with Eddie. He hates it.
He opens the door, and the smile he greets Eddie with feels brittle and fake.
“Hey, man,” Buck says, trying trying trying to make it come out right. He hears it, though—it doesn’t sound the same.
“Hey,” Eddie replies. He hoists a six pack in the air, and if Buck squints he can almost pretend this is exactly what it used to be. That they’re what they used to be.
“Come—come in,” Buck invites. He can’t remember the last time either of them waited for permission like this.
Eddie swallows visibly and steps into the loft for the first time since—god, he’s not actually sure. Right after Halloween, maybe?
“Thanks,” Eddie says. He drops the beer on the counter but makes no move to grab one.
Silence stretches between them. It’s not uncomfortable, necessarily, but it’s also not the kind that falls when everything that needs to be said is out in the open and everything left can wait.
“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Eddie says finally, achingly quiet.
Buck shakes his head. “I am, of course I’m happy to see you,” he says.
“Please don’t do that.” Eddie’s eyes are wide and sincere, and if Buck’s not careful—
“Eddie,” he says, pleading, “I am, you have no idea.”
“Then why…” He gestures vaguely at the space between them. Why the distance? Why the reticence? Why aren’t they falling together the way they always have?
Buck bites his lip and steps into Eddie’s space to grab a beer for himself. He retreats, but he doesn’t go far.
He pops the cap off and sighs. “You left,” he says simply.
Eddie stumbles back against the counter. “But I came back,” he says. “And I thought you understood.”
Buck offers him a sad little smile. “I did. I do. But—coming back wasn’t the plan.”
“Did you… not want me to?” Eddie asks, small and a tiny bit incredulous.
“No,” Buck says, watching as Eddie’s disbelief turns to hurt. “I didn’t want you to come back. I needed you to.”
A wounded noise escapes Eddie’s lips. “I did,” he says.
“What about next time?” Buck asks. He wishes he didn’t sound so raw and ragged, but it hardly matters when Eddie’s the one listening.
“What?” He breathes, punched out like a cough.
Buck looks over Eddie’s shoulder, out the window and into the vague glow of night in Los Angeles. He takes a swig of his beer.
“I need you, Eddie, I still—the whole time you were gone it felt like—like I was missing a limb. And I can’t—I can’t keep needing you like this, not if I don’t get to keep you,” Buck admits. “So I just… I have to figure out how to stop. But I can’t do that when you’re here.”
“Don’t,” Eddie says desperately. “Please don’t. I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You have me.”
“I’m not sure I know how to survive believing that again,” Buck replies.
Eddie takes a step forward, close enough now that Buck can feel his breath ghosting across his skin.
“Look at me?” he asks.
Buck’s never been able to deny him much of anything.
“I kept looking for you. I’d see something funny and I’d turn, because I wanted to see your reaction. The front door would open, and I kept thinking you were going to be the one to walk through it. Hell, every time I went to the grocery store I wanted to call you to make sure everything we needed was on the list.”
“Eddie,” Buck breathes.
His hand drifts toward Buck’s shoulder, just like it always seems to, but this time it doesn’t stop. Eddie reaches until his fingers are resting against Buck’s neck and his thumb is slowly sweeping across his jaw.
“You need me?” he asks.
Buck nods.
“Good,” Eddie says in a rush of air. “Because I need you too, okay? So please don’t stop, please don’t pull away. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to come with me.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to stay.”
Eddie’s shoulders slump. He takes the last step forward and pulls Buck into a tight hug.
There’s this thing Buck’s been trying not to look at. It’s been growing in size, taking up more and more of his field of vision since the moment Eddie left for Texas. It’s been fuzzy and hard to discern, difficult to ignore but easy to avoid putting a name to. As he melts into Eddie’s arms, though, everything comes into sharp relief.
It’s need. It’s want. It’s love.
And the thing is, Buck knows how this goes. But what the hell? It’ll be a privilege, getting his heart broken by Eddie Diaz.
He clings a little tighter.