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With the holidays approaching, the shifts have been gruelling, the general public tending to be more accident prone and quite frankly, stupid around this time of year. So after a particularly long shift, all Eddie wants is to go home to his blissfully empty house and crash. He loves his son but with the tiredness he feels right down to his bones, he’s never been more thankful for Chris’ thriving social life.
With Chris at a friend’s overnight, Eddie doesn’t have to worry about anything except for changing out of his clothes and dropping down onto his bed. At least that is what he had imagined, longingly, as their shift was coming to an end. Unfortunately for Eddie, he has an attentive best friend who happens to know almost everything about him. For instance, he somehow knows that Chris is out of the house tonight and that usually Eddie finds himself unable to sleep in complete silence, without him saying a word about it.
So of course, when Eddie is struggling to put his socks on and fumbling in his bag for shoes to hopefully leave in, Buck saunters into the locker room in nothing but a towel and a warm, inviting smile.
At first, he barely registers that Buck is talking, Eddie’s focus pinpointed to the droplet of water that is making a path down the middle of his pecs. Most days, Eddie is able to act normal around Buck’s bare chest, and has a good amount of energy to keep his eyes at a professional, platonic appropriate level. Today is not one of those days. He’s only broken out of his trance by a hand obstructing his view in an attention grabbing wave.
“Earth to Eddie. Hello?” Buck says with an amused smile.
“Hm?” Eddie responds slowly, eyes darting up and face warm.
“You good, man?”
He looks Eddie over, like he can figure out what’s going on in his head by cataloguing every part of him. Which a lot of the time they can actually do with one another. His shoulders tense slightly under the searching gaze and when his own eyes threaten to lock onto Buck’s arms, he redirects them to searching through his bag once more.
“Yeah, just a long shift,” He replies, his throat feeling tight.
“Definitely one we’re going to feel tomorrow. That’s why I was saying it might be the perfect time to put the hot tub to use.”
Ah, yes. The hot tub. The extravagant purchase that Buck will justify and swear by until he’s blue in the face. He’s made sure everyone on the team knows the health benefits: stress reduction, sleep improvement, pain relief for muscles and joints. It had stemmed from a research deep dive into hydrotherapy, after all.
But oftentimes when Buck is talking about it, Eddie isn’t thinking about that. Instead his mind conjures up the image of Buck with his head tilted back, relaxed against the edge of the tub with his arms spread out, glistening from the steam. Which doesn’t reduce his stress but it has improved his sleep, in a way. So he’s not very sure it will be beneficial to their friendship if he says yes when Buck asks,
“You in?”
But Eddie looks at Buck’s hopeful expression, takes a second to mourn his sanity and says,
“Yeah, man. Sounds good.”
The panic doesn’t really set in at first. He gets in his truck, feeling fatigue pull at his face and sting his eyes. He yawns through most of the drive, mindlessly following Buck’s car through traffic. It’s not until they’re turning onto Buck’s road that his brain comes back online and it’s mostly just a cacophony of curse words. He doesn’t have much time to think further than that because Buck is looking at him expectantly, waiting for him at his door.
It’s just Buck, he can be normal and not let anything slip. When he’s had some sleep, he mostly has a handle on it, all the feelings that threaten to surge forward now that he’s realized them, keeping them locked up and standing alert to guard it. Right now, he has to pinch himself when he looks at the width of Buck’s shoulders and wants to burrow into one. If he can barely keep his thoughts at bay while Buck’s got a shirt on, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this.
Internally, he scoffs and reminds himself he’s been to war as he gets out of his truck and treads closer to Buck.
Then he follows him inside and is hit with smells that remind him of Buck, his detergent, strong natural oils he uses and the lingering scent of baked goods. It’s both comforting and overwhelming, the warm notes of vanilla and cinnamon only getting stronger as he trails behind him towards the bedroom.
Not wasting any time, Buck drops his work bag and starts rifling through his drawers. Watching from the doorway, Eddie’s not really sure what to do with himself, eyes trailing over parts of the room as he fidgets with his hands. Before today, he hasn’t had a reason to be in Buck’s room so he’s never really had the time to properly look.
It’s all very Buck, simple at first glance but when you look closer you can see meaningful touches of warmth. His eyes catch onto the bookshelf next to the bed, on two photo frames found amongst the books, recognising himself and his son next to Buck in one of them, Maddie next to her brother in the other.
Looking at their smiling still faces, it makes Eddie wonder how many times he’s been one of the first things Buck sees when he wakes up, if he’s reminded of his family as soon as he opens his eyes, if maybe that’s why he placed them there.
Dragging his own eyes away, they fall to a miniature Christmas tree in the far corner, the only bit of decoration in the whole house that Eddie has seen so far.
“Cute tree,” Eddie says stupidly and too fondly, nodding his head in the direction of it.
“Thanks,” He chuckles quietly, “Maddie got it for me. Apparently not having a tree is inexcusable. Her words,” Buck says as he opens another drawer, always forgetting where he puts things.
“Why don’t you?” Eddie asks.
“The thought of unpacking anything else this year. I have way too many decorations for one person.”
Right. Yes. Because he packed up his loft without a second thought and moved. For Eddie. Then he moved back out a few months after Eddie’s return, even though he’d never asked him to.
“These should fit you… although you are working with more in the back,” He notes, holding up the trunks a bit and tilting his head with a small smile.
“You been looking, Buckley?” Eddie teases, and he’s barely conscious of his choice to do it. The words just spill from him before he can consider them.
“Yes, Eddie. In the eight years that I’ve known you, I have seen your ass,” Buck huffs and rolls his eyes, like it’s obvious.
“I didn’t ask if you’d seen it. Have you been looking?” Eddie asks, like an insane sleep deprived person.
He bites down on his own tongue once the words leave his mouth, holding it from doing anything else stupid. Then Buck’s eyes widen ever so slightly and he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, a patch of pink growing high on his cheeks.
“I’m gonna get the hot tub going. Meet you out there,” He rushes out, shoving the trunks at Eddie on his way out.
Holding them to his chest, Eddie smiles after him, a little thrill going through him at the way Buck stumbles. It energises him enough to move his limbs towards the bathroom and sluggishly work his clothes off. Then, bordering on delirious, he turns in the mirror once he’s got Buck’s trunks on to see just what Buck thinks he’s working with.
Catching himself, he shakes his head and huffs a laugh as he turns back to look himself in the face. He takes a deep breath, shaking out his hands, preparing to act completely, totally normal and leaving the bathroom before he can spend too long overthinking.
Stepping out into the backyard, he shivers, goosebumps rising along his arms as the air hits his bare skin. Partly because he’s tired and sensitive to the slightly cool weather but probably also because he’s met with the sight of Buck already submerged, looking like something out of Eddie’s dreams.
Illuminated under the warm porch light, Buck is spotlighted against the darkness engulfing the rest of the yard. He’s all Eddie can see when Buck looks up, beer in hand, a private smile growing on his face.
It’s that smile, the one that seems to be just for Eddie, that pulls him forward. Then he’s standing at the edge of the tub and he shouldn’t pause, because that’s not normal, but he’s suddenly forgotten how to do that in the face of all that is Buck.
“Come on in. I won’t bite,” Buck says over the low noise of the jets, his eyebrow lifting in amusement.
Swiftly shutting down any thoughts of Buck and biting, Eddie swings himself carefully over the side and sinks into the bubbling water. Once he’s settled in, Buck reaches back to grab a beer for Eddie, uncaps it and holds it out for him. He’s not very successful at not ogling Buck’s arms as he does this so it takes a second for him to get a hold of it and after another moment, himself.
Drink firmly in hand, he stretches his legs out as he sits back and startles a bit when his foot hits Buck’s ankle. When Buck doesn’t even blink at the contact, Eddie decides it would be weird to move away and edges it out the rest of the way, brushing their legs together. It’s not much different from when they sit close in the truck or on the couch, and yet he still has to remind himself to breathe.
They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, calves interlocked, letting the stress of the day ease off of them. At least, it should be and does seem to be in Buck’s case but Eddie, on the other hand, is too aware of every part of his body. He watches Buck’s shoulders relax as he tilts his head back and feels how tightly wound his own are. All of his energy is being spent thinking about how he should be acting and he feels stiff with it, like he can’t let go.
As if sensing the tension across from him, Buck’s eyes slide open and his head gravitates forward as he looks at Eddie. It dawns on him that he’d been staring at Buck the whole time, trying to mirror him but only feeling more tense each time he watched Buck’s chest rise and fall, shining with water droplets as it moved steadily.
Hoping to disguise any weirdness on his part and suddenly quite thirsty, Eddie drinks from his beer that had sat unmoving in a rigid hold.
“You okay?” Buck asks gently, a curious concern clear on his face.
“Mhm,” Eddie replies around a mouthful of beer and then gulps it down loudly, unnaturally.
“You sure? You seem… tense,” Buck says, lifting a wet hand out of the water and gesturing his fingers up and down in Eddie’s direction.
“I’m fine, just tired and sore,” Eddie answers, but he knows it sounds weak to Buck, who knows him too well.
He knows what Eddie is like at his most tired after a shift, has known him through the exhaustion of recovering from a bullet wound and can easily recognize when he’s not telling him everything. The thing about Buck is that he is persistent and sometimes he does it loudly, passionately pestering until he can help. Other times he persists quietly, steps in and knows just what Eddie needs.
For a long minute, Buck just looks at him like he’s staring into him, eyes squinted as if he’s weighing something in his head and it makes Eddie’s shoulders climb up just a bit, his fingers tightening on his beer. Then when he feels Buck’s leg shift closer and his own breath hitch, the corner of Buck’s mouth twitches upwards, like he got an answer to an unspoken question.
“Do you trust me?” He asks softly, placing his bottle on the edge without taking his eyes off of Eddie.
Blinking at the unexpected question, Eddie nods without hesitation before he can even respond verbally.
“I- yeah. Always,” He answers a second later and it’s one of the truest things he’s said all day.
It’s been true for a long time, because Buck made it so easy from the very start. Even though it’s never come naturally to Eddie, letting people in, it did with Buck. He feels it pass between them in that moment, when Buck gives him a soft pleased smile and Eddie’s muscles loosen a little at the sight.
“Come here,” Buck says gently, beckoning him with an arm up and reaching out.
Stomach fluttering and limbs unsteady, Eddie pushes through the water towards Buck’s hand. When he’s close enough, it settles on his shoulder and turns him so his back is to Buck. He’s unsure of what Buck’s plan is but he feels safe in his hands, so he moves with them and lets himself be pulled in until he feels Buck’s breath on the back of his neck. Then Buck’s knees come up to bracket his waist, keeping him steady and it feels weirdly intimate when leg hair tickles his rib cage.
He breathes out shakily and Buck stays still for a moment, like he’s waiting to see if Eddie moves away. When he doesn’t, Buck’s hands trail up, gliding until they land where Eddie’s neck meets his collarbone, thumbs resting at the top of his spine.
“Is this okay?” Buck asks quietly next to his ear.
“Yeah,” Eddie whispers in answer, as if it minimises the significance of what it’s admitting.
He wants to feel Buck’s palms on his skin, has craved it softly, harshly and casually in passing. So he bares himself to them now and it’s scary, to get what he wants and it be so good.
It feels devastatingly good when Buck’s thumbs start to knead at his neck, strong hands tender and precise where they dig into the knots there.
Closing his eyes, Eddie tries to relax into it but part of him is afraid to lose himself in the feeling of Buck’s skilful fingers. He has always struggled with letting himself be carefree, has spent his life trying to be responsible, dependable and doing what’s expected of him.
Right now, Buck is probably feeling years of stress and guilt in the line of his shoulders as his hands travel over them. If it were anyone else, it would feel a lot more vulnerable but Buck knows him deeper than most.
“You can let go, Eddie. I’ve got you,” Buck says, his voice low and humming comfortingly in Eddie’s ears.
He feels himself sway back a bit, leaning into Buck’s hold on him as he rubs slow circles into Eddie’s shoulders. With Buck’s words washing over him, he melts into caring hands and lets himself be molded into someone who lets himself have nice things. He can be someone who lets their aches be soothed, by guiding words, by caring touch, because Buck’s got him, and he doesn’t think he can fight it anymore.
Eyes still shut, he is immersed in the sensation of Buck caressing and pushing out all of the pressure bit by bit. It’s as if he knows exactly where to look, like he has seen everything Eddie has carried and made a map in his mind.
When he gets to the spot between Eddie’s shoulder blades, Buck drags a thumb up in a way that makes his back arch and then release. He lets out a noise he hasn’t heard from himself before, close to a whimper, at how relieving it feels. It’s a pain he hadn’t fully known he’d been holding, because he’s been standing with his back stiff and too upright for as long as he can remember.
For the first time in a long time, he feels loose in a way he didn’t know possible.
His mind goes blissfully quiet, nothing else existing outside of where his body meets Buck’s. Each worry he once had is momentarily lost in favor of a drowsy calm as he drifts down into the touch, feeling both heavy and weightless as he falls further, trusting Buck to catch him.
“That’s good, Eddie,” Buck whispers and he sounds concentrated, pleased.
It’s gutting, the way the words hit him. He’s not used to any of it, letting himself enjoy something solely for him, from someone who wants to give it to him and asks for nothing in return. But most of all, he’s not used to being told it’s okay.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed by the time every part of his body feels loose and his mind is detached from any stifling thoughts. It’s freeing to give in, to allow himself to become boneless in Buck’s capable hands, to let the tiredness finally let itself be fully known as he slumps backwards.
His back is caught by Buck’s chest and as if anticipating Eddie’s every move, his arms are quick to loop round Eddie’s middle.
Secure in solid arms, he feels at rest and he can’t fight the urge to slot his head back into the nook between Buck’s chin and shoulder. Below him, Buck’s chest stills for a moment but then he tightens his hold and rubs his chin against the top of Eddie’s head.
His eyelids feel heavy and when he tries and struggles to open them, he thinks he could easily fall asleep where he sits, comfortably tucked against Buck.
“Thank you,” Eddie says quietly, placing a hand on Buck’s arm that’s draped over his stomach. He looks down at where they meet, at how Buck looks around him and it makes a sigh slip from him dreamily.
“You don’t need to thank me,” Buck says and there’s a lilt to his voice, like he’s in on his own private joke.
Then as Eddie goes to reply, he feels Buck’s chin tilt down, the softest press of lips against his head. They’re gone too quickly and in an effort to look, to follow them with tired eyes, Eddie turns into Buck’s hold.
Their noses almost brush with how close they are and he’s struck with just how much want he sees clearly on Buck’s face. Pupils large and eyes dark, it’s somehow soft around the edges too, filled with something heartfelt that Eddie can’t bring himself to look away from.
He sees Buck most days but he’s never had the chance to look at him this closely. This close, everything is sharpened and he finds himself lost in a pleading shade of blue, light lashes fluttering as he looks back at Eddie.
Then Buck’s mouth opens a fraction, like it often does when he’s thinking deeply and Eddie can’t help but look. His eyes dart down, a flash of full pink lips before he pulls them back up. He thinks of how they felt pressed to his hair, soft and overwhelming, and has to look away. The air feels tense between them but it wraps around him like it’s guiding him on a safe passage to somewhere familiar, everything always familiar with Buck.
Meeting his gaze again, he sees something complicated twitching in Buck's expression and then his hands drop from where they braced Eddie. He hates it immediately, that he can see remembrance in Buck’s face as he does it, like he’s recalling a rule.
Feeling cold where the touch once was, Eddie wants to break all of them, to enforce new ones that declare that they be joined at all times.
Without really meaning to, Eddie’s body moves in the direction of the contact as it runs from him and feels the corners of his mouth drop in disappointment. Then he hears a little huff of a laugh, feels it against his cheek and rights himself with a harsh, overtired blink.
“You are so confusing sometimes, Eddie Diaz,” Buck says lightly, a small smile on his face, like it’s something to be fond of.
“Huh– What? …Why?” Eddie asks, not because he doesn’t understand but because he’s caught off guard by the way the words fall off of Buck’s tongue, so differently to the frustration Eddie often feels at himself.
Even when Buck is confused by him, he sticks around through vague answers to complicated questions and is never really phased by the mess Eddie makes. He always sees the good in Eddie, trusts and believes in it without a doubt.
There’s a pause and Eddie watches Buck’s smile fall slowly, like he’s turning over the thoughts in his head for the damage they could do if he said them out loud. He’s seen it before, seen Buck hold back for other people’s sake and Eddie doesn’t want to be one of them.
“Because— Because if anyone else looked at me the way you do, I’d get the idea that they want me.”
It’s Eddie’s turn to hesitate, because he doesn’t want to be something Buck questions. He wants to be clear and transparent, even when it’s scary and he’s not very good at it. He’s also very tired so finding the right words is a lot harder than usual.
“Can’t I just be Eddie and want you?” He lands on, which is not his most eloquent work but he thinks it gets the message across.
“No. I don’t think so. Not the way I’m thinking,” Buck answers with a sad smile that means maybe Eddie wasn’t clear enough.
“Well, why not? What’s wrong with Eddie?” He asks, because he wants Buck in every way so it should be the way Buck’s thinking and his exhausted mind doesn’t understand where he went wrong.
“Nothing is wrong with Eddie. Eddie is straight and I think Eddie needs to go to bed so he stops talking in third person.”
“You don’t know Eddie’s sexuality. Maybe Eddie isn’t… not gay.”
“Okay, this is getting really confusing now. What are you even saying?”
“It’s– You’re right, I should probably stop talking.”
“Uh, not what I said,” Buck says, eyes studying him before his expression eases, “But maybe this is a conversation for when we’re not running on fumes.”
“Yeah, probably,” Eddie agrees and he thinks maybe it’s the wrong thing to say when he sees reluctance in Buck’s movements as he gets out of the tub, like each step away means they won’t return to this moment.
He doesn’t blame Buck for hesitating, Eddie has been known to only talk about weightier topics fleetingly, never to be brought up again. But as he follows Buck inside, he thinks maybe this time he can try to say what he really means.
When their hands brush as Buck hands him clothes to borrow, he thinks about when they were used to keep him alive. Remembers after, giving Buck his heart in words the only way he knew how.
He has put so much in Buck’s hands over the years, has trusted them over and over and they never stop showing him new ways that they care. So Eddie thinks maybe he can do that too. For Buck. For himself.
When Buck directs him to the bed, he pulls him along too before he can attempt to set himself up on his own couch. Then they’re facing each other in Buck’s bed and even though Eddie is feeling each hour of their shift, he finds he can’t sleep until he articulates the ache he feels in his chest when he gets a glimpse of what his future could look like.
It’s a recent development, letting himself think about what he desires, but talking about it is not something he’s ever really done.
“Buck,” Eddie voices quietly into the space between them.
“Yeah?” Buck looks up at him, cheek slightly smushed against his pillow.
Nodding to himself, Eddie takes a deep breath and then,
“I want… I want to spend all my time with you, I want to sleep in this bed with you, I want to touch you and I want to wake up touching you. I want you to spend Christmas with us this year with our appropriately sized Christmas tree and then I want to spend life with you, the fun parts, the sad parts and the boring parts. I want to do it all with you, everything. I want you.”
For a moment, Buck just blinks at him like he’s looking at a completely different person but then the crease between his brows softens and his eyes fill with an apprehensive awe.
“You- really?” Buck stutters out, a hand twitching towards him as if he doesn’t know if he can have it, if he can believe it.
“Really,” Eddie answers with a small smile, meeting him in the middle and twining their fingers together.
“I want that too," Buck says, voice shaking with emotion as he looks down at their joined hands, "I want you, Eddie. I think I have for longer than I could admit to myself.”
“Me too. Sorry it took this long,” Eddie admits and his mouth quirks into a pout involuntarily, the way it does when he feels a bit vulnerable.
“Don’t be sorry. Just kiss me about it instead, maybe,” Buck suggests with a soft smile and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to agree with the idea.
It feels natural for him to bridge the gap between them, filled with certainty and trust when their lips brush. Then he’s kissing Buck, mouths meeting in what feels like a culmination of shared history and starting anew, it feels like setting it all free to be what it’s meant to be. Their mouths move together, pushing and pulling the way they’ve always done with each other and Eddie thinks they were always meant to get here.
He sinks into the feeling of it, lips parting and opening up, hands separating just to grasp elsewhere. His palm settles on Buck’s stubble and he brushes his thumb along his cheek just to feel it.
It’s almost overwhelming, Buck’s hand on his waist, his jaw moving under his hand as his mouth meets his again in a tender kiss. It all feels right though, everything they’ve built together at the foundation and he feels safe to stand, crash, stumble and lay with Buck through anything.
For a lot of Eddie’s life, he’s had to get through on his own, always just waiting to get through the things that didn’t make sense but were expected of him. Now, with Buck’s lips on his, he isn’t bearing through it, he’s savouring and sure as he explores Buck’s mouth with his own.
He never wants to stop being this close to Buck, wants to be even closer, to feel him in every way.
Tonight, he just wants to keep doing this. So they do, every press of their lips saying something different until they grow too fatigued to form much of anything. They still try, kisses growing languid and slow before they pull apart completely with tired smiles.
He goes easily when Buck tugs him forward, his head settling on Buck’s chest like it’s something he’s always done. Then half shut eyes close completely without his permission, desperate for rest, and he remembers there was something else he wanted to say as he drifts.
“Remind me to tell you I love you when I wake up,” He mutters, half asleep already.
“You- Eddie, what did you just say? Eddie,” Buck says in a disbelieving whisper, but Eddie is barely conscious when Buck lets out a fond sigh and says,
“You’re lucky I love you too.”
He falls asleep with a smile on his face and the thought that yeah, he really is.
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