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Summary
He finally cracks when Buck switches the station again, making a lingering pit stop on one that is just a loud crackling noise. Eddie reaches over and bats his hand away with a swift tap, jabbing his thumb at the off button and exhaling when the car goes silent.
Buck, beside him, huffs. “I was listening to that.”
Eddie can feel him staring, but keeps his own gaze focused on the road ahead and raises his brow. “To static?”
“I was trying to find a good station,” Buck mumbles, slouching down in his seat.
“Okay,” Eddie says evenly, “well, we’re five minutes from home. I think we can survive a little silence until then.”
A beat passes. Then, “Seven minutes.”
Eddie blinks. Blinks again. “What?”
“We’re seven minutes from home,” Buck corrects.
Jesus Christ. How hard is Eddie going to have to go to fuck the attitude out of him when they get home? He flicks on the indicator and turns down a familiar street. “Buck,” he sighs.
“What?”
Or: Buck brats. Eddie puts him back in his place.