Work Text:
After Buck finds him, Eddie doesn’t let himself slip small again for a hot minute—too worried about judgment, even if Buck hadn’t seemed to mind all that much. They both know Eddie wasn’t himself, not the version of himself that Buck works alongside, that he’s known for years, but Buck doesn’t bring it up, and Eddie sure as hell isn’t going to.
But… it always catches up to him. And the day it does, Buck’s come over after babysitting Jee, a tote bag of colouring books and markers dropped in Eddie’s hall.
Eddie spots them as soon as Buck lowers them down, eyes lingering on the bright colours of the covers, skin prickling. It’d just be nice, he thinks, to curl up on a chair, scribbling in the book, uncaring of the final product. He hasn’t done that since he was so, so small. By the time he was ten, he was running the house alongside his mother, filling the role of his father more often than not.
Buck catches him looking, expression softening, the six-pack of beer in his hand dropped onto the hall table.
“Hey,” Buck says, voice gentle. “I, uh— I was at Maddie’s colouring in with Jee for ages. Can I show you? What I did?”
Eddie always likes to know what Buck’s doing, what he’s made. Eddie nods, fiddling with the sleeve of his long-sleeved shirt. They make their way into the dining room. Buck splays the handful of books out on the table, scooting his chair close to Eddie’s, flipping it open.
He’d been colouring in a page of little cartoon bugs. He’s mostly within the lines, which makes sense; he’s an adult. He’s sure Jee didn’t manage it quite as well—but there’s something freeing in that, right? In just trying? In it not mattering if it’s perfect or not? It’s just… fun.
Buck makes him want to have fun. He brings out the silly in Eddie, a youthful version of himself he’s long neglected.
Eddie’s fingers trace over the page, his feet tucking up onto the chair, knees huddled near his chest. It’s not often that he feels physically small, not at the solid six-foot-tall that he is, but when he curls up, tight and compact, it feels nice. Comfortable.
“You hungry?” Buck asks, startling Eddie.
“Oh, uh—” Eddie blinks at him a few times, thoughts a little muddled. “I guess.”
“Okay, how about I cut us up some fruit, maybe?” He’s already out of his chair, making his way toward the fridge. “You got any strawberries, Eddie?”
They’re Eddie’s favourite. Buck knows that. Buck knows all his favourite things—has them memorised like they matter, like he’s got them written down somewhere, just in case, because they’re that important to him.
Eddie’s chin rests on his knee, an arm wrapped around his shins. “Yeah. Went to the market.”
Buck shoots him a light, teasing glare. “You went without me.”
Eddie shrugs. “You were working,” Eddie says. “I needed fruit. For Christopher’s lunches.”
It’s nice having Buck comfortable being mockingly mad with him, and to know it’s not real. Eddie didn’t have that with his parents—all their anger was real, thrumming in the walls of the house, encapsulating everything he touched, everything he was.
“I forgive you,” Buck sighs, a little dramatic. He cuts up some strawberries, an apple, a banana, and adds a handful of blueberries on top. He washes them all under the sink—Eddie’s attention diverted by then, back on the book as he flips through the pages. Some of them have scribbles, others completely blank, untouched.
It’d just be fun, he thinks, to get to do it himself.
Buck sits down in the seat next to him, two forks dropped onto the table. He sets a hand on Eddie’s upper back, stroking across the width of it. Eddie’s eyes flutter, the muscles relaxing beneath Buck’s touch.
“You wanna draw?” Buck asks. “I— we could do it together.”
“That’s silly,” Eddie says, defensive, knees pulling tighter to his chest. “I’m— come on, Buck.”
Buck frowns a little. “I don’t think it’s silly. I like doing it.” He pulls the markers out, pops the packet open, and places them right in front of Eddie. “We could just try?”
Eddie glances wearily at the brightly coloured markers, then slides his gaze to Buck’s face, open, trusting and endlessly patient. Eddie’s tummy twists, his breath escaping a little shaky as he nods, small.
“Okay,” Buck says, grinning brightly. He stabs a fork into a slice of apple, holding it up for Eddie. “Apple?”
He laughs, biting it off the fork, chewing and swallowing. “You know I can feed myself, right? I’m— I’m big.” I’m an adult, he means, but it doesn’t come out that way, the words feeling too fuzzy to be true.
“Yeah, you’re so big,” Buck agrees, popping a blueberry into his own mouth. “Watcha gonna colour?”
Eddie flips back to a page that caught his eye. It’s got a knight and a princess on it, a sparkly crown on her head and a large sword in his. Eddie picks up a grey marker, hesitant as he uncaps it and puts pen to paper.
“That’s cool,” Buck says encouragingly, fork poking into a strawberry this time. He lets it hover close to Eddie’s mouth. Absent-mindedly, Eddie takes it, chewing and nodding his head.
Once he swallows, because he’s a polite boy, he says, “I like it.”
Buck flips open a different book, grabbing a marker and scribbling alongside him. It does help, hearing Buck’s marker dragging against the page, the sound in sync with Eddie’s own movements. They’re doing it together, so it’s not silly. It’s okay that Eddie likes it.
“Wrong colour,” Eddie corrects gently as Buck takes his purple marker to a bush.
Buck blinks up at him. “Huh?”
Eddie grabs the green marker, offering it out. “It’s green.”
“What? You’ve never seen a purple bush?” Buck says, hand snapping to his chest, like he’d be clutching pearls if he were wearing any. “That’s where purple grapes come from.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, poking Buck with the capped marker. “No, grapes are on vines, not bushes. It should be green.”
Buck relents with a bright grin, discarding the purple pen and grabbing the one Eddie picked for him. “Man, you’re so smart.”
Eddie preens under the compliment, the apples of his cheeks warming. “Whatever.”
Buck collects the fork again, grabbing another strawberry, following the same pattern of offering it to Eddie. Eddie takes it, smiling at him, chewing on the sweet treat. They really are his favourite.
Eddie’s not sure how long they sit there together. Buck mostly focuses on talking and feeding Eddie, his own drawing only half-filled. Eddie finishes his knight and princess, the background mostly ignored. He didn’t really care about the mountains.
“It looks so good,” Buck praises easily as Eddie presents it to him, a little shy. “I’m proud of you.”
Eddie’s eyes go wet. Oh. It’s— Jesus. He can’t remember the last time he heard those words. Buck clocks on immediately, eyes widening as the tears well along Eddie’s lash line, threatening to spill over his rosy cheeks. Buck turns in his seat, scooping Eddie’s body into his arms, pressing Eddie’s face into his plush hoodie as he hugs him tightly.
“Hey, hey,” he whispers soothingly, “It’s okay. I got you.”
Sniffling, Eddie nuzzles his face in, tentatively curling into Buck as much as he can in this position. Buck’s fingers slide into his hair, stroking softly.
“I’m not sad,” Eddie says, voice wobbling. “Just happy.”
Buck keeps petting him, nodding enough that Eddie can feel it. “That’s okay. I’m gonna hug you anyway, if that’s okay?”
Eddie sniffles again, eyes still damp. “Yeah. It’s okay.”
Giving Eddie a tight squeeze, Buck presses a kiss to the side of Eddie’s head. “I’m always proud of you, Eddie. You’re so good. You’re the best.”
Eddie presses his face in harder, a few tears slipping free. “Okay,” he manages, voice quiet, unsure what else to say.
“Do you wanna go sit on the couch?” Buck murmurs, “Might be more comfy.”
Nodding, Eddie slowly pulls back, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. “Yeah. Sorry for…”
Buck shakes his head instantly. “Nothing to be sorry for. I mean it. Come on, we can watch a movie. It’s Buck and Eddie move night, remember?”
Eddie manages a real smile. “Yeah. You have to make popcorn.”
“We just ate!”
Eddie shrugs. “I’m still hungry.”
Buck shakes his head, ushering Eddie into the living room. “You’re always hungry.”