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“Truth is, I don’t wanna go to space,” he huffs, given the obscurity of the thought.
He’s not exactly sure why space is the most absurd thought to him. Considering that at this moment, he finds himself laying on the rug in the middle of his six-month old nephew’s floor, cuddling one of his stuffed ducks in his arms while he recites his day like it’s the daily news.
This has become routine for him, once a week, maybe more depending on the severity of what’s happening in his life. He can just feel, say whatever is on his mind and not have others worry about him or take pity on him. It’s a foolproof plan for the most part.
Except..
Okay, maybe there’s the fact that he’s sort of lying to Eddie about it. To his knowledge, Buck is seeing an online therapist instead. It wasn’t his best moment, but he needed to give Eddie something. Anything to excuse the constant flaking on commitments, their carpooling becoming less frequent, his dodgy behavior.
Eddie, the kind soul that he is, of course tried to get Buck to just do the therapy from home. Their home, which Buck was still trying to get accustomed to hearing, without the gut feeling of feeling like a burden. He couldn’t do it though. He insisted on Maddie’s, something about better focus, helping with the baby, just spewing whatever lie came first. If the hurt in his eyes was anything to go by, Eddie still had some reservations but he made peace with it if that’s what Buck needed.
The initial guilt ate away at him but this was for the best. There’s no use in worrying Eddie or anyone else for that matter, and luckily, he had even gotten Maddie to agree to not listen in through the baby monitor.
So that’s why Buck found himself here. Splitting his heart open, vulnerability on full display as he spoke to a baby.
“I don’t even like flying domestically,” he continues, twisting his head to catch a glimpse of RJ’s expression as if he could actually understand him. “But Chim was yelling at Eddie and Eddie was yelling at Chim and I– I didn’t want to be left out, ya’ know?”
“The weird part was after Hen walked away, I-I turned around half expecting to see Bobby there.” He smiles fondly as his mind paints a picture, the imagery clear like he’s still in that moment. “Shaking his head and giving me that, ‘What were you thinking?’ face. Uh,” he swallows, taking all the joy along with it as he shakes the thought away. “Obviously, he wasn’t there.”
“He said they were gonna need me.” Buck finally manages to croak out after a few moments of blinking back the angry tears forming. There was desperation wrapped around those words as they faltered on their landing. He wanted it to be true. More than anything, he wanted them to need him. He wanted to be wanted.
He shut his eyes in a feeble attempt to not drown in the memory of it. His chest aches, feeling everything too quickly, as he tries to remedy it by clutching the duck tighter.
Some days, the memory isn’t so vivid. He feels far from it, not in a way where he could ever forget Bobby because he’s sure he’ll be mourning Bobby for the rest of his life, maybe into the next one too. But it feels far away.
He’s not stuck in the lab, fingers pressed insistently on the glass as though if he tried hard enough, he could reach him, one last time. He’s not still watching as fear spreads across Bobby’s face but he holds it together, he holds them together while he prepares him for life after. He’s not still behind that glass, incapable of doing anything to help. He’s not still watching Bobby walk away, pleas falling hopelessly from his lips like maybe if he pleaded hard enough, he could change the outcome. He’s not still behind the door, beating himself up because he couldn’t simply say I love you back. He’s not always stuck in the lab.
Today, he was.
“He said they would need me.” He repeats, slower this time as if needing to hear it for himself. He can feel the tears beginning to spill at the corner of his eyes, despite his fight as he stares up at the starry ceiling, watching the hollow walls stare back. “But he was wrong.”
“It’s fine though,” He continues on, laughing despite himself. “Chim and Hen have their thing, now Eddie and Hen too. Ravi tolerates me at best. And I’m just.. left behind.”
“I don’t know,” Buck mutters into the void, shifting on his side to face his nephew. His head rests on his arm and faintly, he can make out RJ’s tiny bounce as he stands, babbling into the dark. He’s helpless to the way the corner of his lips give a ghost of a smile before his eyes drift to the lettering above the crib. Any remnants of that smile fall off his face, leaving a pit in his stomach. “I-I guess I just wish it didn’t feel like I died along with Bobby.”
He doesn’t know how long he lays there, letting those words wash over him. If he focuses hard enough, he can feel the weight of the words trigger different reactions throughout his body. He hasn’t moved in minutes, yet his heart hammers like it wants to escape his chest. His hands have a slight tremor to them. He feels pounding behind his eyes, tears drying against his cheek. His body feels cold, empty. He’s in the hallway again, feeling everything but nothing all at once.
“Buck,” lifting his head feels like a chore as he peers at the monitor after he hears Maddie. Her voice comes through slightly harsh and it isn’t lost on him that this doesn’t sound like the first time she’s said his name. Guilt begins eating away at him as he quickly pushes himself up, using his shirt to wipe over his face to rid of everything. The shame held between the furrow in his brow, the guilt painted in his features, the grief rolling down his cheeks. Everything. “We have to let him rest now.”
“Five more minutes?” He jokes out weakly, hoping she doesn’t hear the strain on the delivery.
She laughs, little fragments of it get caught by the monitor and Buck can perfectly picture the headshake she’s probably pairing with it. “You had five minutes. Ten minutes ago. Say goodnight, Buck.”
He hates that he can hear the sympathy in her words, it’s mixed with something else. He gets it from everything, something deeper, untouched that no one quite knows how to address with him like at any given moment, he could just break.
He nods to nothing in particular, pushing himself up the rest of the way with a pained groan. That’s been the one downside, getting up from the rug is hell on his body. It’s a lot less noticeable compared to the pain in his chest and thoughts in his mind so he doesn’t dwell on it.
He stands beside Robbie’s crib, leaning slightly and watching as he babbles nonsensical baby talk before he brings two fingers to him, giving a gentle tickle to his side. “Alright, same time tomorrow?”
Robbie does kick his feet, giggling up at Buck so it’s not a no.
“Goodnight, little buddy,” Buck coos quietly, setting the duck beside Robbie’s arms and watching as he cuddles it against himself just as Buck had a few minutes ago. “Sweet dreams.”
Buck gathers his belongings off the rug, tucking it all away in his pockets and finding his way out, turning to slowly shut the door behind himself.
He quietly joins Maddie in the living room. She doesn’t notice at first, not looking past the pile of clothes in front of her but when she does, she gives a small smile. “He’s a pretty good listener, huh?”
He gives a short nod, laughing quietly. “Yeah, it was quite therapeutic.”
Silence falls over them. It’s not awkward but he can feel the weight of what’s unsaid. Maddie goes back to folding, a lot slower than her pace before.
“You know, he’s not the only one you can talk to.”
“Mads..”
“I’m just saying, Buck. You don’t have to go through it all alone.”
He digs the heel of his palms into his eyes, further aggravating his headache but he needed something to distract him from this conversation. He slowly drags his hands down his face, awkwardly stepping to the couch before pointing towards the pile. “Want some help?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, he reaches and grabs one of Jee’s shirts from the pile, or tries to until his hand gets slapped away. “Okay, ow?”
“I know what you’re doing,” Maddie doesn’t even spare him a glance as she continues her folds.
He frowns, huffing a little disbelieving. “I’m not doing anything.”
She sighs, finally taking a moment and setting the article of clothing down as she makes eye contact. “Stop avoiding him, Buck. Go home.”
Buck scoffs because he was not avoiding, okay? He was simply creating some distance. You know what they say, push people away first so they can’t push you away. He’s not pushing them too far, just keeping them at a safe distance so he doesn’t drag them down along with him. Not like anyone noticed anyway.
“I thought you liked having me over.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know I love having you over. But there’s someone who may enjoy having you home a little more than me.”
———-
Buck sits outside in his car, he’s not sure how long he’s been sitting here for. Could be ten minutes, thirty. He stares at the house in front of him, riddled in guilt knowing he’s going to walk in and be immediately swarmed by the love and care inside. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s lying. To everyone, even himself. It minutely makes him miss the loft. No decoration, bare necessities inside the fridge, no memories, no furniture. Just silence.
Light bleeds from their living room from the window, casting a warm glow to the outside. Clear indication that even against his instruction, Eddie waited up for him anyway. He always does, it was a long shot to think tonight would be any different but he just wanted to feel invisible. He wanted to drag himself through the house, fall into bed or maybe take the couch depending how deep Eddie was sleeping.
He was just exhausted. In every sense of the word except the actual sleeping aspect. Exhausted of himself, exhausted from feeling like this. Just exhausted.
He manages to drag himself out of the car, fumbling with his keys as he makes his way to the door. He pauses, preparing the front he’s put on for months, hoping it buys him another day, another hour without question. He forces a smile to his face as he finally pushes the door open. “You waited for me,” Buck says in lieu of a greeting, feeling Eddie’s eyes piercing daggers through him the moment he stepped into the doorway.
Eddie smiles, radiating his own glow, it just pours out of him and Buck feels drunk with it every time he sees him. Their home, the glow of the lights, nothing could even come close to rivaling Eddie’s warmth.
“Hey.”
Buck shakes his head, laughing lightly. “Hi.”
Eddie’s body turns more in Buck’s direction, his smile widening. “Good session today?”
“Yeah, it was..” The words die on his tongue as he walks in further, taking notice of the six-pack on the table. It wasn’t one they drank often. Or at all, actually. He grabs a bottle for himself, twisting until he got a good read on it and—
“Chim brought it,” Eddie supplies. Buck rips his eyes away from the bottle in his hands to look at Eddie whose eyes have gone back to scouring a page of his magazine, not at all phased. Just carefree as ever, that guy.
“He came over?” Buck asks, trying not to let the bitterness roll off his tongue so easily. It’s just the fact that now, the light makes sense. Eddie wasn’t waiting up for him, he just conveniently happened to still be in the living room after having a few beers with good ole Chimney. He’s fine.
But that also leaves him a little confused. See, when they were leaving the station, Chim asked him if he could tell Maddie he’d be home a little late. Something about going to Hen’s to make amends. Hen’s house isn’t far, by any means. It’s actually closer to the station than Eddie’s is. But Hen lives in the opposite direction of Eddie’s house. Meaning, Chimney went out of the way and lied directly to his face about it. It makes him feel a little less insane now that he has confirmation. He is being left out. It’s all being done right—
“Just a peace offering,” Eddie explains, cutting through his internal breakdown. How the fuck does he always do that? “Things got a little crazy earlier. He just wanted to make things right.”
“Hm,” is all he’s willing to offer in response, pettily bookmarking the inadequate reasoning and stowing it away in his mind to mention to Robbie tomorrow when Chim is out. He looks down again at the bottle in his hands, twisting it around until his eyes land on the branding. “The good kind too. I’m sure that was nice.”
Distantly, he can hear Eddie close the magazine. He’s only a few steps away but every movement he’s making sounds drowned out. Like the magazine, he’s sure it’s now resting on Eddie’s lap, finger carded in to hold his placement. He brings his feet back to solid ground, the soft thump of his boots hitting the ground is more than enough to force Buck’s gaze to him. Eddie’s already looking at him, of course he was. He’s clearly in search of something. Buck’s isn’t sure what but he shifts uncomfortably under the weight of it anyway.
“Okay,” Eddie starts quietly, “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Buck mutters defensively. Eddie tilts his head, kindness pouring out of his eyes and seeping into the cracks of Buck’s stern act. “I’m glad you’re having beers with Chimney,” he prefaces, sighing as he now realizes how ridiculous and fatuous his next words were going to be. He drops his eyes to the bottle in his hand, fiddling with the label as he concedes with a whisper, “I just thought that having a beer was our thing.”
Eddie, true to his nature, doesn’t dignify that with a response. Not with words, anyway. He smiles and it’s kind and warm, soft around the edges. Always patient in a way that simultaneously Buck loves but that also drives him completely insane. Eddie sets the magazine aside on the arm of the couch, page placement long forgotten before motioning Buck over with his head.
“Buck,” Eddie coaxes after a few moments of nothing on Buck’s end, saying his name so gentle, so open that it threatens to take his knees out of commission. It does what it’s intended to though, breaking him out of his impending spiral and grounding him, bringing him back to Earth.
He finally wills his legs to work, taking a few steps to stand beside Eddie’s semi-spread ones. Eddie chuckles lowly, sitting taller from his relaxed position and grabbing Buck’s hand that he hadn’t even noticed was painfully gripping the fabric of his jeans to guide him onto his lap.
Buck straddles him, knees bracketing his thighs, digging into them a little due to the lack of space Eddie left from the arm of the couch but neither seem to mind. He sits slowly, as much as the constricting denim allows, anyway. And Eddie—
Eddie hums, pleased and as content as ever. His hands start traveling Buck’s body, running up his thighs, then hips, to trailing up his sides. He doesn’t say anything. Buck doesn’t expect him to. Eddie loves taking his time in every sense and who was he to stop him?
He also had some of his own appreciation to look forward to. Eddie was wearing his taupe top, sleeves freshly cut off and he bravely resisted all urges to bite into his muscles. The universe has done Buck one major favor in this lifetime and it’s giving Eddie Diaz a loose-fitted shirt and some scissors.
Buck’s hands find purchase on Eddie’s shoulders, testing as he runs his palm along the exposed skin, reveling in the warmth. They trail down his arms, slow and exploratory and Buck craves. Craves to kiss. Craves to bite. Craves to be in his skin. For every new inch of skin, he craves more.
“Hey.” Buck mournfully breaks his eyes away from where he’d watched his fingers dance along Eddie’s skin, up to Eddie’s face. Eddie smiles and his entire demeanor softens when their gazes meet like he’s helpless to do anything else. He lifts his hand from Buck’s thigh, pushing one of his fallen curls back into place before his thumb settles right along his birthmark. “You know I’d never leave you out intentionally, right?”
“Yeah, I-I know,” Buck mumbles, feeling as though he got transported back to before Eddie left, having to acknowledge that he knew he mattered. Which, of course, he knew both. To an extent. He remembers that moment and he hears himself now and he’s not even sure which time felt more like the truth. “Just been in my head a lot.”
Eddie hums, something between acknowledgment and agreement while his gaze searches. Brown eyes sweep across his face, taking their time until they land on their final destination.
Eddie’s hand falls a bit lower to cup at his jaw, the other hand sliding up his thigh as he leans in, pressing his lips to Buck’s. Buck sighs against his lips, feeling the weight of the exhaustion drain out of him as he settles further into Eddie, hands running down his chest to his stomach and bunching a handful of fabric. Chaste kisses are pressed against his lips, only deepening whenever Eddie’s hand trails up to his waist, pulling him in but it’s very clear who has control in the situation.
Buck parts his lips, a silent instruction beneath it but Eddie just pays it no mind. His tongue ghosts over Buck’s bottom lip for a sheer second before it’s gone. Don’t get him wrong, he loves when Eddie kisses him like this. All slow, sweet like he’s deserving of good things. But right now, he needs to be out of his head.
Only, he can’t. Or more specifically, Eddie won’t let him. Any attempt to change the pacing, add any tongue, Eddie starts to pull away, leaving Buck as nothing more than just a puddle of whines. Which given the smile he feels against his lips when he stops trying, Eddie seems to find it amusing.
Eddie actually does pull away this time, making Buck’s shoulders slump in defeat. “Don’t pout, Buck. Contrary to what it seems, I didn’t call you over to makeout.”
“Because you wanna do more than making out?” Buck teases, attempting to roll his hips but being halted by the hands on his waist holding him still.
“Because I want to talk.”
Buck groans, his head falling forward dramatically into Eddie’s shoulder. He can feel Eddie turn into him, his laugh hitting his neck before he places a feather-like kiss there as well.
“A second therapy session?” Buck mumbles into his shoulder.
“Not a therapist,” Eddie reminds him, hands soothingly running along his sides as he plants a kiss to his shoulder over his shirt. “Just worried about you.”
“Can we not talk instead?”
Eddie seems to ponder on the request, doing a small nod but Buck can tell he isn’t fully convinced. “Okay, we don’t have to talk today.” He brushes over his sides once more before he stops, pulling back as best as he can, “I got us something.”
That makes Buck lift his head, drinking in all the excitement on Eddie’s face. “Yeah?”
Eddie hums, leaning forward to kiss along Buck’s neck, up to behind the sweet spot behind his ear and Buck crumbles under the affection, a small moan passing his lips. “Got an IMAX documentary with our name on it.”
That quickly sobers Buck as he (dreadfully) pulls Eddie back by his shoulders to bring his attention back to him. It doesn’t help that he looks increasingly more beautiful, brown eyes glazed over and his lips more spit-soaked than they were a moment ago but Buck can ignore all that. He can!
“I really don’t want your documentary sloppy seconds, Eddie.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie throws his head back in a laugh that would almost be infectious if he wasn’t being offered what he was. “I knew you were jealous!”
“Wasn’t jealous,” he lies, terribly at that. He shifts in Eddie’s lap, sitting as far away as he can without leaving the spot. “If I was, I would have a good reason.”
“That right?”
“I mean, you’re having beers with Chim,” he bitterly motions to the six-pack still haunting him at the end of the table, “you watch documentaries with Hen. You even go to disc golf sometimes!”
“Okay, we call it frolf and you know that,” Eddie reaches up again, his thumb guiding Buck’s gaze back to him. “But we do those things too, Buck. Mostly.”
“It’s just not..” Buck shakes his head, letting the unspoken ‘same’ die with his words. Eddie seems to understand anyway, he always does.
“Yes, I have those things but you have your things too.” Buck scoffs and Eddie playfully smacks his hip. “Hey. You do. Movie nights with me and Chris, dinner with Maddie and Chim, and you have bachelor nights with May and Harry.”
“You know the invite extends to you too. I want you there.” The words spill out, the honesty bringing a smile to Eddie’s face.
“That’s different. That’s something for you and May and Harry, Athena when she joins. I can’t impose.” Buck frowns at that, he understands but all the same, he yearns for everyone to just be together again. Like the old days. “Plus,” Eddie once again interrupts his thoughts, “trashy reality shows aren’t my thing.”
“Hey!”
Any further protest is cut off by Eddie joining their lips together again, hands sliding up the back of his shirt sending a shiver down his spine despite the warmth. He pulls away, a small smile on his face, proud of what he accomplished clearly as Buck attempts to chase his lips. “So the documentary?”
Buck rolls his eyes, “turn it on.”
Eddie peppers kisses against Buck’s lips, before pulling back one last time, hands bracing his face and smiling at him adoringly. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Buck says back easily. Being in love with Eddie is probably the most honest he’s been with himself since. Eddie smiles at him, bringing him in for one last kiss before pushing him back against the couch.
“Can’t have you on my lap, I need to start our documentary.” Buck laughs, grabbing the nearest pillow and tossing it across at Eddie and at least for tonight, Buck can breathe.