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Summary
Buck looks at him, then, and it’s like Eddie can read his every thought, can see in his eyes the want, the need, the desperation, and Buck feels flayed under his heavy gaze. Like he knows that Buck wants to kiss the curve of his mouth on sleepy mornings, hold his hand beneath tables, fall asleep wrapped in his warmth.
That he wants to make a home with him, fill it with love—with a family.
Looks at him like he knows Buck wants to get on his knees for him. That he would, this very second, if Eddie asked.
Buck takes a step closer, bringing them toe to toe.
“You’re fucking—” he whispers, just shy of a rasp, “you’re fucking leaving, Eddie.”
or; Eddie is leaving, and Buck can't quite get it to stop hurting.