Work Text:
Stay until the morning
'Cause, baby, loving you's the real thing
It just feels right
When you give me all of your love, give me something to dream about
The house is quiet, sunlight filtering through the kitchen window, soft and golden. Eddie moves around the kitchen, still in sweatpants and a t-shirt, frying up eggs and bacon while Buck sits at the table, nursing a mug of coffee. Chris is still asleep, and it’s just the two of them, comfortable, familiar.
It’s easy like this, the soft morning light casting long, warm shadows, the way Buck’s hair is mussed, curls falling over his forehead, still in his sweats. There’s a tenderness to it, this quiet between them, like the world has finally given them a moment to breathe. Eddie wants to crawl into this moment and live in it forever. Have it never end. Just him and Buck, and Chris in this house.Buck stirs his coffee, eyes fixed on the swirling liquid, and Eddie doesn’t miss the way his shoulders are a little tense, like he’s carrying something heavy.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, sliding a plate in front of him.
“Yeah,” Buck replies, a little too quickly. “Just... a lot on my mind.”
Eddie sits across from him, leaning his elbows on the table. “Yeah? What’s going on?”
Buck hesitates, glancing at Eddie before looking down again. “I’m, uh... gonna go check out an apartment later.”
The fork in Eddie’s hand pauses mid-air. The floor falls out from under him, “An apartment?”
“Yeah,” Buck says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was looking online last night, and there’s one just a few blocks over. Figured I’d check it out since I’ve got the day off.”
Eddie blinks, trying to process the words. “Why?”
Buck’s brow furrows. “Why what?”
“Why are you looking for an apartment?” Eddie’s voice comes out more bewildered than he means. “I didn’t know you were planning on moving out.”
Buck shrugs, trying to play it off. “You and Chris are back. I figured you’d want your place back. You know, just the two of you. And— uh you can't sleep on the couch forever, man.”
Eddie frowns. “You didn’t even tell me you were thinking about it.”
Buck shrugs again, more defensive this time. “It’s your house, Eddie. I just... I didn’t want to assume I could stay.”
Eddie sets his fork down and rubs his hands over his face. “Buck, it’s not about assuming. You’ve been living here for months. Anyway, you’re... part of this place. Always have been.”
Buck’s lips twitch into a little smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, but you’re back now. It’s different.”
Eddie shakes his head, trying to catch his breath. “It doesn’t have to be.”
Buck looks up, startled. “What do you mean?”
Eddie hesitates, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to figure out how to say it. “I just—maybe we could talk about it before you just... go find a new place.”
Buck studies him for a moment, something shifting in his expression. “You really want me to stay?”
Eddie swallows hard. “Yeah. I do.”
Buck doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just stares at Eddie like he’s waiting for something else. When Eddie doesn’t continue, Buck nods slowly. “Alright. I’ll... think about it.”
The silence settles between them, comfortable and just a little bit tense. Eddie watches as Buck takes another sip of coffee, his gaze still uncertain but softer now.
There’s something about Buck like this—hair a mess of unruly curls, lips pressed to the rim of his mug, eyes half-lidded and tired but still so damn bright. Eddie’s never been able to figure out how Buck can look so achingly beautiful even when he’s barely awake, still shaking off the adrenaline from yesterday. It hits him all at once, like it always does when he lets himself stop and really look—how Buck’s always been this steady, bright presence in his life, like sunlight streaming through the windows and settling on the worn, wooden table.
He wants to reach out, brush the stray curl back from Buck’s forehead, just to feel the softness between his fingers. Wants to trace the line of Buck’s jaw with his thumb, let it linger on the patchy scruff that Buck always forgets to shave on his days off. There’s something about the way Buck’s shoulders curve forward, like he’s still trying to take up less space, still worried he’s intruding even though Eddie wants him here, wants him to take up every inch of this house and never leave.
Eddie wonders if he’ll ever be able to put it into words, the way Buck makes him feel—like he’s finally standing on solid ground after years of stumbling. Like he’s come home after a lifetime of wandering. It’s terrifying and thrilling all at once, and Eddie feels his chest ache with the weight of it. He wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t trust his voice right now, doesn’t trust himself not to just blurt out the truth and throw everything they’ve built into uncertainty.
But Buck’s here, right now, and Eddie can’t stop staring, can’t stop memorizing every inch of him, like he’s afraid this might be the last time he gets to see him like this, soft, sleepy, still. The sunlight catches in Buck’s eyes when he looks up, and Eddie feels his breath hitch.
For a moment, it feels like they’re suspended in this fragile, golden morning, just the two of them, and Eddie thinks maybe this is what it feels like to be in love, a little helpless and certain all at once.
°:. ₊ ° . ☆ °:. ₊ ° . ° .•
The firehouse is quieter than usual when they arrive, just the hum of the overhead lights and the faint sound of water running from the bay where Ravi is hosing down one of the rigs. Buck’s already halfway out of the truck, Chris on his heels, both of them hauling bags of supplies Hen texted about earlier.
Inside, Hen’s setting up tables, muttering to herself about cake and the amount of cups they have. To the left of her, halfway up a ladder he has no business being on given he's only been out of hospital a week, Bobby is trying to get a banner to stay taped to the wall without it drooping in the middle. He and Hen must have made it; it reads "CONGRATS CAPTAIN HAN!". Buck immediately swoops in to help, holding the other end while Bobby staples it to a beam. Eddie can’t help but smile at the way Buck’s shoulders flex under his shirt, muscles bunching as he stretches to get the angle right.
Hen spots him watching and raises an eyebrow, smirking. Eddie just shrugs, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck.
Chris takes off toward the snack table, already eyeing the bags of chips, and Eddie moves to help Hen with the folding chairs. He sets them up in little clusters, close enough for conversation but far enough apart to give everyone space.
“You two came early,” Hen says, folding her arms as she watches Buck try to manhandle the banner into staying up.
Eddie shrugs. “Chris wanted to help. And, you know... figured we’d pitch in.”
Hen’s lips twitch. “Yeah, you seem real eager to help.”
Eddie huffs, giving her a sideways glare. “You’re hilarious.”
She just laughs, patting his shoulder before going to fetch more decorations from her car. Eddie turns back to where Buck’s finally managed to get the banner up, bright and proud, and Bobby claps him on the back with a satisfied grin. Buck’s whole face lights up when he turns around, catching Eddie’s eye, and it’s like that morning softness never really left.
Eddie busies himself with laying out paper plates and napkins, but he can feel Buck’s gaze on him, like he’s trying to figure something out. When Buck finally comes over to the table, swiping one of the cookies Hen brought, Eddie gives him a look.
“That’s for later,” Eddie chides, half-hearted at best.
Buck just grins, crumbs already on his lips. “Hen got extras. I’m just taste-testing.”
Eddie shakes his head, trying not to stare at the way Buck’s tongue darts out to catch the stray crumbs. “You always gotta be the taste-tester, huh?”
Buck shrugs, popping the rest of the cookie into his mouth. “Someone’s gotta do it.”
They fall into a rhythm, Buck setting up chairs, Eddie arranging food, both of them working in sync without needing to speak. It’s so natural, being here together, weaving around each other like they’ve done it a thousand times before. Eddie feels his chest ache, a familiar, stubborn warmth blooming there.
At some point, Buck sidles up to him again, grabbing a streamer that Eddie’s struggling to tape to the wall. “Here, let me.”
Their fingers brush, and Eddie feels that spark again, the one that keeps catching him off guard. Buck glances at him, eyebrows raised, and Eddie swallows, forcing himself to focus on the decoration instead of the way Buck’s shoulder presses against his.
“You think Chim’s gonna cry?” Buck asks, voice low, almost conspiratorial.
Eddie smirks. “Definitely. I give him five minutes tops once he realizes what we’ve done.”
Buck’s laugh is soft, and Eddie feels it settle into his bones, grounding him. He doesn’t want to think about Buck moving out, about this being one of the last times they do something like this together. It feels too big, too overwhelming, like something he’s not ready to face.
“You okay?” Buck asks, quieter now.
Eddie blinks, realizing he’s been staring. “Yeah. Just... glad you’re here.”
Buck looks at him for a moment, something flickering in his eyes, but then he smiles, bright and easy. “Yeah. Me too.”
Before Eddie can say anything more, Chris bounds over, holding a stack of plastic cups, and Buck immediately shoos him off to the table to help him set them up. Eddie watches them, his heart doing that ridiculous thing again, and he can’t help but think about how he’s never going to be ready to say goodbye.
As more of the team starts trickling in, Eddie finds himself gravitating back to Buck’s side, like some invisible force is keeping them tethered. Maybe, he thinks, that’s just how it’s always been; Buck, always right there, even when Eddie’s not sure how to ask him to stay.
The firehouse is louder than it’s been in a while, laughter bouncing off the walls, music low but steady, filling the spaces between conversations. They'd pushed the sofas into a corner to make room for the buffet table, and somehow Buck and Eddie have ended up squished together on one of them, knees brushing, each holding a plate piled high with cake.
Eddie can’t help but smile every time Buck shovels another forkful into his mouth like he’s never tasted anything sweeter. There’s a smudge of icing at the corner of Buck’s lips, and Eddie has to bite back a laugh, wondering how one person can be so effortlessly endearing. Buck’s whole face lights up when he’s happy, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners, like there’s nothing else in the world but right now.
They’re tucked away from the crowd, just far enough to be in their own little bubble, and Eddie’s heart is doing that ridiculous fluttering thing again, the one he thought he’d outgrown years ago. He thought he couldn’t fall any harder, any faster—thought he’d hit rock bottom ages ago. But here he is, watching Buck lick a bit of frosting from his thumb, and it’s like gravity itself has shifted, pulling him in, relentless and inevitable.
“You’re gonna get a sugar high,” Eddie teases, nudging Buck’s knee with his own.
Buck just grins around another bite. “Worth it. I think Hen might have used real magic to find this. Best cake I’ve ever had.”
Eddie huffs a laugh, trying not to let his eyes linger on the icing still clinging to Buck’s lip. “You’ve got some—” He gestures vaguely to Buck’s mouth, and Buck swipes at it with his thumb, missing completely.
“Here?” Buck asks, oblivious, still chewing.
“No.” Eddie reaches out, before he can stop himself, thumb brushing over the corner of Buck’s mouth, swiping the frosting away. Buck freezes, eyes widening just a little, and Eddie’s pulse stutters in his chest. It’s a little too much, this close, the feel of Buck’s skin warm and soft under his touch.
Before he can second-guess it, Eddie takes Buck’s plate from his hands, setting it on the coffee table. Buck’s confused expression is almost too much, like he’s trying to figure out what Eddie’s doing and coming up blank. Eddie doesn’t give himself a chance to overthink it, just curls a hand around the back of Buck’s neck and pulls him in, kissing him soft and sweet.
Buck makes a surprised sound that quickly turns into a laugh, muffled against Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie can’t help but grin too, the sound vibrating against his lips. Buck tastes like cake, sweet and warm and a little messy; and Eddie can’t help but laugh through it, the pure, giddy joy bubbling up between them.
Buck’s hands come up to grip Eddie’s shirt, just lightly, like he’s still not sure he’s allowed to hold on. Eddie presses in a little more, tilting his head to deepen the kiss just enough to taste the laughter on Buck’s tongue. It’s short and soft, but it feels monumental, like the world has cracked open and something bright and beautiful is spilling out.
When they finally pull back, Buck’s cheeks are flushed, and he’s still grinning like he can’t quite believe what just happened. “You just—”
“Kissed you,” Eddie finishes for him, his own voice a little breathless. “Yeah.”
Buck blinks, a little dazed. “You—why?”
Eddie snorts, shaking his head. “Why? Seriously?”
Buck shrugs, still holding onto Eddie’s shirt like he’s afraid to let go. “Just... wasn’t expecting it.”
Eddie’s heart aches a little at that. He reaches up to brush his thumb over Buck’s cheek, gentler this time. “You should’ve. You’re—God, Buck, you’re impossible not to love.”
Buck’s whole face softens, and the grin turns into something sweeter, eyes bright and a little shiny. “Yeah?” he asks, voice small but hopeful.
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Buck smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You know... I wouldn’t mind if you did that again sometime.”
Eddie glances at the cake crumbs on Buck’s lap and the way his hair is still a mess from earlier, and he can’t help but lean back in, just brushing their noses together. “Yeah? You sure?”
Buck blushes, but nods, still smiling, “Yeah. Definitely.”
Buck laughs, quick and a little breathless, and leans back in, pressing another quick kiss to Eddie’s lips. It’s almost too soft to be a kiss at all, just a brush of warmth, but it’s enough to make Eddie’s chest ache.
When they finally settle back into the couch, Eddie’s hand drifts to Buck’s thigh, just resting there, fingers tracing absent patterns through the fabric. Buck leans into his side, still beaming, and Eddie wonders if it’s possible to be this happy without combusting.
They’re still tucked away in their own little bubble when Chim raises his beer, calling for attention. They break apart, still grinning, and his hand lingers on Buck's thigh like he’s not ready to let go just yet. Buck doesn’t move away either, just tucks himself a little closer, their shoulders pressed together as Chim makes a speech about family and how much this place means to him.
Eddie can’t help but think that right here, next to Buck, he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.
°:. ₊ ° . °:fin. ₊ ° . ° .•