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Eddie was supposed to be home at ten. That had been the plan, the simple, straightforward promise he'd made before leaving that morning. He'd told Buck while standing in his own kitchen, watching Buck pad around barefoot in those soft socks he loved, stealing pieces of toast straight from the plate like a little bird sneaking seeds.
"I should be back around ten," Eddie had said, grabbing his keys from the counter.
Buck had nodded around a mouthful of toast, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. "Okay."
"Don't wait up."
Buck had rolled his eyes, the expression so fond and familiar it made Eddie's chest go warm. "I wasn't going to."
Eddie had smiled because they both knew that was probably a lie. Buck always waited. Buck always stayed up too late, scrolling through his phone or watching TV or just existing in the quiet of Eddie's apartment until he heard the key in the lock.
Still, he'd expected to be home by ten. He'd planned on it. He'd been looking forward to it, actually—to the sound of Buck's laugh, to the way Buck would immediately start telling him about his day, to the comfort of just being in the same room as him after a long shift.
Then the call had come in. A fire, small but complicated, requiring all hands on deck.
Then another. A medical emergency across town.
Then another. A car accident that took hours to clear.
One job had rolled into the next until the hours had disappeared, melting away like ice in the sun, and by the time Eddie finally climbed into his truck, wiping soot and exhaustion from his face, it was well past midnight. The streets were quiet, the city finally asleep, and Eddie's bones felt heavy with the kind of tired that went deeper than just lack of sleep.
He checked his phone as he started the engine, the screen lighting up in the dark cab.
No messages from Buck.
That somehow made him feel worse, a strange hollow ache settling in his chest. If Buck had been awake, Eddie knew he'd have texted. He always did.
*You coming home soon?*
Or: *Miss you.*
Or, more likely: *Eds. I'm bored. When are you back?*
But there was nothing. No little bubbles of conversation. No missed calls. Just the silence of a phone that hadn't been used in hours.
So Eddie assumed he'd listened. He'd assumed Buck had gotten tired of waiting, had eventually shrugged and said "oh well" and gone to bed like a sensible person.
At least, that was what Eddie thought.
Until he unlocked his apartment door at 1:08 a.m., the click of the lock echoing loudly in the quiet hallway.
He slipped inside as quietly as he could, his movements automatic and careful, and closed the door behind him. The apartment was dark, wrapped in the soft shadows of late night.
Almost.
A small lamp beside the couch was still on, casting a warm, golden pool of light across the living room. It was the lamp Buck liked, the one with the soft yellow bulb that made everything look cozy and inviting.
Eddie frowned, his keys still in his hand. He was almost certain he'd turned that off before leaving. He always did. He was careful about things like that.
Then he noticed the coffee table, and his steps faltered.
He stopped completely, his breath catching in his throat.
Their Ticket to Ride board was still set up, exactly where they'd left it—or rather, where Buck had set it up. The colourful little train pieces were scattered across the map, some already placed along routes in bright reds and blues and yellows, others waiting beside the board in neat little piles. Their destination cards sat in two little stacks, one for each of them, the edges slightly curled from handling.
There were two drinks beside it. One was empty, just a few drops of condensation left on the glass. The other hadn't been touched, the ice long since melted, the liquid warm and flat.
And next to them sat a bowl of snacks. Buck's favourite kind—the spicy crisps he always stole from Eddie's cupboard, the ones Eddie pretended to mind but always bought anyway.
Eddie stared, his chest tightening until it felt like there wasn't enough air in the room.
"Oh."
The word came out softer than he intended, barely a whisper.
He looked at the clock on the wall, the digital numbers glowing faintly in the dim light.
1:09.
Buck hadn't just been waiting for him to come home. He'd been waiting to play. He'd set up their game, their thing, the thing they did when the world was too loud and they needed something quiet and simple between them.
Eddie could picture it perfectly, the scene playing out in his mind like a movie he'd watched a hundred times. Buck setting everything up around ten, probably humming to himself. Probably getting the board out first, smoothing it over the table with careful hands. Probably putting Eddie's drink beside his spot without even thinking about it, because he knew exactly what Eddie liked. Probably arranging the snacks and deciding which colour trains he wanted, maybe even arguing with himself about whether red or blue was better.
Maybe he'd even sent Eddie a text. Maybe he'd typed out *where are you?* and then deleted it, not wanting to seem impatient. Maybe he'd checked his phone a dozen times, hoping for a reply that never came.
Eddie checked his phone again, like he might have missed something, like a message might have magically appeared in the last few minutes.
Nothing.
He smiled faintly, something tender and achy spreading through his chest.
Then he looked towards the couch.
And the smile softened, his whole expression going warm and fond in a way that would have embarrassed him if anyone else had seen it.
Buck was curled up in the corner, almost completely buried beneath a blanket. It was the big one, the fluffy grey one they fought over in winter, and it was wrapped around him like a cocoon. His hair was sticking up on one side, pressed flat on the other from where his cheek was against the cushion. One hand was tucked beneath his face, the fingers curled loosely, while the other rested against the blanket, twitching slightly in sleep.
The television was on, the screen casting a soft blue glow across his face. Muted. Some show Buck had probably put on for background noise, something he wasn't really watching but needed to fill the silence.
Eddie glanced at the clock again, just to be sure he wasn't imagining it.
1:09 a.m.
Three hours.
Buck had been waiting for three hours. Three hours of sitting on this couch, surrounded by a game he couldn't play alone, snacks he wasn't eating, a drink he wasn't drinking. Three hours of fighting sleep, of checking the door, of wondering when Eddie would finally come home.
Eddie crossed the room, his footsteps silent on the carpet. He crouched beside the couch, bringing himself to Buck's level, his knees pressing into the cushion.
"Bucky," he whispered, his voice soft and gentle.
Nothing. Buck didn't stir, his breathing deep and even.
Eddie smiled, something fond and helpless twisting in his chest.
He gently touched Buck's shoulder, his fingers warm through the blanket. "Hey."
Buck's nose scrunched, his eyebrows pulling together slightly. A tiny sound escaped him, something between a hum and a sigh.
"Mmm."
"Buck."
His eyelids fluttered, the lashes casting shadows against his cheeks. He blinked slowly, once, twice, his eyes hazy and unfocused. It took several seconds before he seemed to realise who was sitting beside him, before the sleep cleared enough for recognition to dawn.
Then his whole face softened, his expression going open and happy in a way that made Eddie's heart squeeze.
"Eds."
His voice was barely there, rough with sleep and so quiet Eddie had to lean in to hear it.
"Hey," Eddie said, his own voice going soft to match.
Buck smiled, a tiny, sleepy smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "You're home."
Something in Eddie's chest pulled tight, a string being wound too tight, aching and sweet all at once.
"Yeah," he said, his throat feeling thick. "I'm home."
Buck's eyes started closing again almost immediately, his eyelids heavy and unwilling to stay open. "Good."
Eddie brushed a strand of messy hair away from his forehead, his fingers lingering against Buck's skin. "You waited for me?"
Buck nodded, barely, his head moving just enough for Eddie to see it.
"You were supposed to be home."
"I know."
"At ten."
"I know."
Buck frowned sleepily, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "Wasn't."
"No," Eddie agreed, his voice gentle. "I wasn't."
"Waited."
Eddie's heart squeezed, a painful, tender ache spreading through his ribs. "You've been waiting all this time?"
"Mhm."
"Buck."
Buck opened his eyes, forcing them open with visible effort. "What?"
"You've been waiting three hours."
Buck shrugged beneath the blanket, the movement small and sleepy. "Didn't feel like three."
Eddie knew that was a lie. Buck looked like he'd been fighting sleep for most of them, his eyes heavy and glassy, his movements slow and clumsy. He looked like he'd only just given in, only just let himself drift off when his body couldn't fight anymore.
"You should've gone to bed," Eddie said, his voice soft but firm.
Buck shook his head, stubborn even in his exhaustion. "No."
"Why?"
Buck stared at him, his eyes barely open, slits of blue in the dim light. "Wanted you."
Eddie went still, his hand freezing in Buck's hair. The words were so simple, so honest, so Buck that they hit him like a punch to the chest.
"You wanted me?"
"Mhm."
Buck's eyes closed again, his head sinking back into the cushion. "Just wanted you home."
Eddie's expression softened, his whole face going tender and warm. "I'm home now."
Buck smiled, satisfied. "Good."
Then he yawned, a huge, helpless yawn that made his entire face scrunch up, his eyes watering, his mouth stretching wide.
Eddie laughed quietly, the sound soft and fond. "Oh, baby."
Buck frowned, his eyes opening just enough to glare. "Not baby."
"Sorry."
"Tired."
"I can tell."
Buck looked towards the coffee table, his gaze unfocused but determined. "Game."
Eddie followed his gaze, to the board and the trains and the little stacks of cards. "You still want to play?"
Buck nodded, his chin dipping toward his chest. "Mhm."
"Now?"
Another nod, slower this time.
Eddie glanced at the board, then back at Buck, who looked like he might fall asleep sitting up. "It's one in the morning."
Buck frowned as if Eddie had just said something completely unreasonable, like he couldn't understand why time mattered at all. "So?"
"So we're not playing Ticket to Ride at one in the morning."
"Why?"
"Because you're falling asleep."
"M'not."
Eddie smiled, fond and patient. "Really?"
"Mhm."
"Okay."
Buck tried to sit up, pushing himself up on one elbow. He made it approximately halfway before his body gave up, his arm trembling and giving out.
Eddie caught him immediately, his hand on Buck's back, steadying him.
Buck blinked, disoriented. "See?"
"Wasn't sleeping."
"You were."
"No."
Eddie laughed softly, shaking his head. "Okay."
Buck leaned against him, his weight settling against Eddie's side like it belonged there. "Game tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," Eddie promised.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Buck stared at him, his eyes searching Eddie's face like he needed to be sure. Then his bottom lip pushed out into the tiniest pout, so small and childlike it made Eddie's heart melt.
Slowly, he lifted his hand from beneath the blanket. His little finger extended between them, pink and hopeful.
"Promise."
Eddie's heart melted, turning into something soft and gooey and utterly gone for this boy. He hooked his pinky around Buck's, their fingers linking in the space between them.
"I promise, baby."
He squeezed their linked fingers before gently pulling Buck closer, tugging him into his side.
Then he pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, his lips lingering against the warm skin.
Buck's pout disappeared, replaced by a tiny, satisfied smile. "Okay."
Eddie smiled, his hand still holding Buck's. "Okay."
Buck's eyes drifted closed again, his breathing evening out.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The apartment was quiet, just the soft hum of the television and the sound of their breathing.
Then Buck whispered, his voice faint and drowsy: "I'm glad you're home."
His voice was barely audible, already drifting back to sleep.
Eddie smiled, his chest full and warm. "Me too."
Buck's fingers were still loosely wrapped around his, holding on even in sleep. "Missed you."
"I missed you too."
"Long."
"Yeah."
"Too long."
Eddie laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I know."
Buck's head fell against his shoulder, his weight trusting and complete.
Eddie rubbed his back, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles. "You really wanted to play tonight?"
"Mhm."
"You set everything up."
"Mhm."
"You got snacks."
"Mhm."
"You even got my favourite drink."
Buck nodded, his cheek pressing against Eddie's shoulder. "Wanted it nice."
Eddie's heart squeezed, a painful, tender ache. "Why?"
Buck looked at him, his eyes opening just enough to meet Eddie's gaze. Like the answer was obvious. Like Eddie should already know.
"Because you were coming home."
Eddie didn't know what to say to that. There were no words big enough or soft enough to hold everything he was feeling.
So he simply smiled, leaning down to kiss Buck's forehead again.
Buck's eyes closed, his body going heavy and relaxed.
"Tomorrow," Eddie promised, his voice low and certain.
"Tomorrow."
"And I'll let you win."
Buck's eyes opened, bright with sudden interest. "Really?"
Eddie laughed, the sound warm and easy. "Maybe."
"Eds."
"Okay, okay. I'll let you win."
Buck smiled, satisfied, his whole face lighting up. "Good."
His eyes closed again, his breathing deepening.
Eddie looked at him for another moment, just watching him sleep, memorising the way his lashes lay against his cheeks, the way his mouth softened when he wasn't talking.
Then he glanced back at the coffee table. The unfinished game. The snacks. The drinks. The tiny pieces of an evening Buck had planned because he'd thought Eddie would be home hours ago.
Eddie smiled, something fond and nostalgic warming his chest.
There were so many memories tied up in that game. Buck's terrible first attempt at understanding the rules, when he'd tried to build a route from Los Angeles to New York in one go. The time he'd accused Eddie of cheating for twenty minutes because Eddie had taken a route Buck wanted, complete with dramatic gestures and wounded expressions. The time Christopher had beaten them both and then spent the entire drive home reminding them of it, his voice bright with triumph. Buck's ridiculous victory celebrations, complete with dancing and cheering and sometimes actual confetti. The way he'd always insist he didn't care who won right before becoming unbearably competitive, his eyes narrowing with determination.
Eddie laughed quietly at the memories, the sound soft in the quiet room.
Then he looked down at Buck again, at the way he was curled against him, trusting and peaceful.
And suddenly the unfinished game didn't make him sad anymore. It didn't matter that they hadn't played tonight.
Tomorrow they'd play. Tomorrow they'd argue over routes and accuse each other of cheating and eat too many snacks and laugh until their sides hurt.
Tonight, Buck was exhausted. His body was heavy with sleep, his breathing deep and even. He needed rest more than he needed a game.
And Eddie was finally home. He was here, in his apartment, with Buck safe and warm and exactly where he belonged.
"Come on," Eddie said softly, shifting his grip.
Buck opened his eyes a fraction, just enough to see Eddie through the haze of sleep. "Hmm?"
"Bed."
Buck's arms lifted, reaching for Eddie without hesitation. "Carry me."
Eddie smiled, fond and helpless. "You want me to carry you?"
"Mhm."
"You're very demanding."
"Please."
Eddie laughed quietly, the sound warm and affectionate. "Okay."
He slipped one arm beneath Buck's knees and the other around his back, his movements careful and practiced. He lifted him from the couch, standing up with Buck in his arms.
Buck barely reacted, his body going pliant and trusting. His arms simply went around Eddie's neck, his hands finding the fabric of Eddie's shirt. His head dropped onto Eddie's shoulder, his cheek pressing against the warm skin of his neck.
And then his entire body relaxed, like he'd been waiting all night to be held, like this was what he'd needed all along.
Eddie adjusted his grip, making sure Buck was secure. "There you go."
Buck hummed against his neck, a soft, contented sound.
Eddie started down the hallway, his footsteps quiet on the floor. "Comfortable?"
"Mhm."
"Good."
Buck's fingers curled into the back of Eddie's shirt, holding on tight.
They made it halfway down the hallway before Buck whispered, his voice barely audible: "Don't put me down."
Eddie smiled, his chest going warm and full. "I won't."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Buck sighed, a long, relieved sound. His face disappeared further into Eddie's neck, his nose pressing against the warm skin. "You're warm."
Eddie laughed softly, the vibration running through both of them. "You're freezing."
"No."
"No?"
"You're warm."
"Okay."
Buck nuzzled closer, his breath warm against Eddie's skin. "You smell like work."
"Sorry."
"Don't mind."
Eddie smiled, his heart going soft. "You're very sleepy."
"Mhm."
"Very."
"Very."
His voice was barely audible, slurred with exhaustion.
Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of his head, his lips lingering in Buck's hair. "You should've gone to bed."
Buck was quiet for a moment, his breathing slow and even.
Then: "Didn't want to sleep without you."
Eddie's steps slowed, his heart squeezing in his chest. "You didn't?"
Buck shook his head against Eddie's shoulder, the movement small but certain. "Wanted you."
Eddie swallowed, his throat tight. "I know."
"Just you."
Eddie closed his eyes for half a second, overwhelmed by the sheer, simple honesty of it.
Then he kept walking, his footsteps steady down the hallway. "I've got you."
Buck's arms tightened around his neck, holding on like he was afraid Eddie might disappear. "Good."
***
Eddie pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, manoeuvring carefully so he didn't bump Buck against the frame.
He carefully lowered Buck onto the mattress, his movements slow and gentle, like he was handling something precious.
For one second, Buck stayed still, his body sinking into the soft sheets.
Then Eddie started to pull away, straightening up.
Buck's hands immediately reached for him, grabbing at his shirt with sleepy desperation. "Eds."
"I'm here," Eddie said immediately, turning back.
"Stay."
"I am."
"Closer."
Eddie smiled, fond and helpless. "You want me closer?"
"Mhm."
He climbed into bed, settling beside Buck, pulling the covers up over both of them.
Buck immediately curled into him, his body seeking out Eddie's warmth like a magnet. His head found Eddie's chest, tucking under his chin. One leg slipped between Eddie's, their limbs tangling together. His hand rested against Eddie's stomach, his fingers curling loosely into the fabric of his shirt.
Eddie wrapped both arms around him, holding him close, his chin resting on top of Buck's head.
Buck sighed, a long, contented little breath that seemed to come from his toes.
"Better?" Eddie asked, his voice soft.
"Mhm."
"Good."
Buck's eyes were already closed, his breathing deepening into the rhythm of sleep.
Eddie brushed his fingers slowly through his hair, the strands soft and fine against his palm. "You're such a sleepy baby."
"M'not."
"You are."
"No."
Eddie smiled, pressing a kiss to his hair. "Okay."
Buck shifted closer, if that was even possible, his body pressing flush against Eddie's. "Warm."
"You've said that about six times."
"Still true."
Eddie laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Go to sleep."
"M'trying."
"You're doing a terrible job."
Buck smiled against his chest, his lips curving into a small, sleepy grin. "Was waiting."
"I know."
"For hours."
"I know."
"Worth it."
Eddie's smile softened, his chest going tight and full all at once. "Yeah?"
"Mhm."
"Why?"
Buck was quiet for a long time, his breathing slow and even. Eddie thought he'd fallen asleep, thought he wouldn't answer.
Then he whispered, his voice so soft Eddie had to strain to hear it: "Because you're here."
Eddie looked down at him, his heart in his throat.
Buck was already drifting off, his face peaceful and relaxed. His fingers were curled loosely into Eddie's shirt, holding on even in sleep. His breathing was becoming slow and even, the tension of the long wait finally leaving his body.
Eddie pressed a kiss to his forehead, his lips lingering against the warm skin. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."
Buck didn't answer. He was asleep, his body heavy and trusting against Eddie's.
Eddie smiled, something tender and achy and utterly complete settling in his chest.
He pulled the blanket higher around them, tucking it around Buck's shoulders.
Then he looked towards the bedroom door. From here, through the gap in the door, he could just about see the glow of the living room lamp, the warm yellow light spilling into the hallway.
Tomorrow, they'd play. Tomorrow, he'd let Buck win. Probably. Maybe he'd even let Buck think he'd won fair and square, just to see that ridiculous victory smile.
Tonight, though, he had exactly what he'd been missing all night. He had Buck, warm and safe and sleepy and happy against his chest.
Buck was warm against his chest. Safe. Sleepy. Happy.
And home.
Eddie closed his eyes, his body finally relaxing into the mattress. "Goodnight, bubs."
Buck didn't wake. He only shifted closer in his sleep, his body seeking out more contact, more warmth.
His fingers tightened around Eddie's shirt, holding on like he was afraid Eddie might disappear.
And Eddie smiled, his heart full and soft and utterly gone.
“I got you, baby.”
And this time, when he closed his eyes, Eddie knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be.