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Buck is pouting, he’s been home sick for two days now, nothing major just a mild cold but, he’s usually healthy, (injuries don’t count). He rarely gets colds, flus etc, potentially a mix of building up a healthy immune system for necessity due to some of the very shady places he lived in after leaving Hershey plus working as a firefighter, you tend to cross paths with sick people often. Sick and distressed people who don’t always cover their mouths when they cough. ‘Honestly, did we learn nothing from the pandemic?’ Buck thinks darkly, scowling at the mug of lemon, honey tea in his hands and sniffling pathetically.
It wouldn’t be such a big deal if it weren’t for two reasons, one - he had to call out on two shifts, which he loathes doing in general, but also because it is December. December means he can sing Christmas songs as much as he likes. Buck adores Christmas music, classic carols, modern remakes, new Christmas songs, all of it. He is the first one to release Mariah Carey from her icy prison in December and will dance around the house singing at the top of his lungs.
However, this cold has rendered him almost mute with laryngitis, which also means even when he gets his voice back, it’ll take a bit longer before he can sing properly without a cracking, husky voice (and not the sexy husky voice either.) Christmas songs have a limited timeframe so this illness has come at the worst time possible. So yes, he is pouting and feeling sad and sorry for himself.
Buck is trying to distract himself by watching ‘A Muppet Christmas Carol’ when he hears the telltale scrape of a key in his door and the small squeak of the hinges as it swings open.
“I have a large peppermint flavoured mocha with marshmallows with your name on it, Buck,” announces Eddie as he puts a coffee cup tray down on Buck’s kitchen bench and takes off his outer coat.
Buck stands up to meet him, sniffling again as he does so.
“Feeling any better?” Eddie asks.
“Meh, still can’t talk much,” Buck whispers raspily.
Eddie winces, “Does your throat hurt?”
“No, just no voice,” Buck takes a sip of the peppermint mocha. It tastes a little off due to his illness but it brings a little bit of Christmas to him at least.
“Thank you for the drink,” Buck gives Eddie a feeble attempt at a smile.
Eddie brushes it off, “It’s nothing. I know you like them for the Christmas vibes.”
Buck snorts, “Christmas vibes? You trying to fit in with the cool kids Eddie?”
Eddie pokes his tongue out at the good natured ribbing, pleased to have brought a smile to Buck’s face.
“I travel all this way, bringing you a Christmas treat and my sparkling presence, risking catching the plague from you and you have the nerve to insult me?” Eddie brings the back of his hand to his forehead in exaggerated fashion.
“Dork,” Buck mutters with a grin.
Eddie watches Buck’s smile slip away quickly though and frowns, “Are you still feeling really unwell? You don’t need to hide it if you are.”
Buck looks quickly between Eddie and his cup before slumping his shoulders, “I don’t feel 100% but I’m not like super sick.”
“So, what’s going on then?” Eddie asks.
“It’s stupid,” Buck traces patterns on the benchtop with his finger.
“Tell me,” Eddie pushes.
Buck holds out for 0.01 of a second, “It’s December.”
Eddie furrows his brow, “Yeah?”
“It means I’m allowed to sing Christmas songs and I physically can’t, because of this stupid cold,” Buck says dejectedly.
Eddie raises an eyebrow.
“I told you it was stupid. Look, thank you for the drink, but you can go. I’m not gonna be any fun to be around,” Buck heads back to the couch so he can spend the rest of the day rotting.
Eddie watches his friend’s slumped shoulders and comes up with a plan.
Before Buck is able to restart his movie, he hears a loud ‘ahem’ followed by a tapping sound and looks over the back of his couch to see Eddie bringing a wooden spoon to his face like a microphone and touching his phone screen which starts playing some very familiar opening notes.
Eddie slowly and dramatically step slides towards Buck and starts mouthing the words,
‘Oooh, I don’t want a lot for Christmas.’
Buck feels the corner of his mouth twitch, but smothers the smile attempting to escape, “What on earth are -”
Buck is stopped from speaking by Eddie’s finger, shushing his mouth who then leans backwards on the back of the couch, rolling into a turn and sashaying around the couch until he’s in front of Buck, still mouthing the start of Mariah Carey’s Christmas tune.
‘I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree.’
Eddie is overly exaggerating his lip synching and Buck has to hold back his laughter. Eddie holds out a hand in invitation, and Buck shakes his head, “Eddie, no I don’t, you don’t have to.”
Then the beat drops and Eddie pulls a (only half) reluctant Buck up into a standing position and starts dancing around him, still lip synching into the wooden spoon and jostling Buck into some swaying motions. It’s not long until Buck is swept up in the motions and the pair are dancing in the living area, sharing the wooden spoon microphone. Towards the end of the song, Eddie twirls Buck and dips him, both laughing hard until their eyes meet and breaths catch. Mariah Carey ends and the next song starts automatically, a medley of Pachabel’s Canon and Carol of the Bells but neither takes any notice, frozen in the moment.
Eddie’s eyes are searching Buck’s face, asking for permission and Buck nods minutely, half wondering if he actually is sicker than he thought and this is a fever hallucination right now. Eddie leans in, closing the small gap to brush their lips together softly. Buck inhales sharply and this seems to be a trigger for the pair of them as Eddie brings Buck up out of the dip and wraps a hand around the back of Buck’s head, the other squeezing his hip and Buck brings his own hands up to run through Eddie’s hair and twist in Eddie’s shirt as they surge together, teeth almost clacking together as they try to get impossibly closer. Breathing becomes an issue very quickly for Buck as an unfortunate side-effect of his still lingering illness and he has to pull away much, much sooner than he wants to (or Eddie wants to, if the little noises of protest are to be believed.)
“Sorry, sorry, can’t breathe properly yet,” Buck apologises before devolving into a coughing fit.
“Oh shit, sorry. Wait. Here you go,” Eddie rushes to get Buck a glass of water and rubs his back while Buck collects himself. They both lower themselves onto the couch as Buck finishes off the glass of water.
Eddie is looking worriedly at Buck, whether about the coughing fit or unsure of the reaction to that mind-melting kiss, Buck isn’t sure but he smiles warmly to help alleviate his concerns.
“Are you okay?” asks Eddie.
“So much more than okay after that kiss,” Buck replies.
“I meant with the coughing fit, but I guess also yes with the kiss as well,” Eddie starts to nervously play with the hem of his shirt, until Buck places his hand on top, halting the movements. Eddie starts chewing on the inside of his lip.
“Did you mean it?” asks Buck nervously even though logically he knows Eddie initiated it, maybe it was a heat of the moment thing, or Buck’s brain has boiled from a fever and he’s currently unconscious on his bedroom floor.
“Yes,” Eddie sounds uncertain but then repeats himself more firmly, “Yes, I’ve wanted to do that for some time, but I shouldn’t have taken advantage while you were sick.”
“I’m open to being taken advantage of by you,” Buck says, winking. That seems to do the trick and Eddie relaxes completely after that, settling in next to Buck on the couch.
“That’s because you have no sense of self-preservation.”
“Rude,” Buck protests.
“True though,” Eddie counters with a smirk.
“Fine,” Buck rolls his eyes, “But circling back, how long is a while?”
“I realised when you said you were Freddie Fakeman that I wanted to kiss you and that probably wasn’t a very platonic bro-love thing to think about my best friend. I had a lot of realisations about myself while I was away,” Eddie confesses.
“Yeah?” Buck asks tentatively.
Eddie nods, “I - and - you?”
“I - I think I was in denial for a lot longer than I realised about my feelings for you. I tried to force them into the platonic box but they really weren’t. So then once I accepted they weren’t platonic, I just had to try to learn how to deal with them never being reciprocated. But, Eddie,” Buck’s tone grows urgent here as he shifts and takes hold of Eddie’s hand, “this is real, right? I’m not stuck in a fever dream?”
Eddie smiles and squeezes Buck’s hand, “This is 100% real.”
“I can’t believe you danced and lip-synched to Mariah Carey for me. Thank you for that by the way,” Buck says.
“Always.”
The pair are silent for a moment, adjusting and reconciling their thoughts.
“Hey Buck,” Eddie says.
“Mmm?” Buck tilts his head.
“All I want for Christmas is you,” Eddie croons as he leans in close and draws Buck in for a kiss.