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Language:
English
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Published:
2026-08-30
Words:
1,345
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
4
Kudos:
151
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1,513

That’s Rough Buddie

Summary:

Buck gets too drunk at a bar and Eddie has to save him.

Notes:

Disclaimer:
This is a random fic I am writing fast. It will probably be bad. I don’t plan to proofread. I’m just using my current minset to try and write a more accurate drunk-Buck oneshot post-lawsuit. Might be updated in the future we’ll see.

Work Text:

“—and then he told me I’m exhausting.” Buck lamented to a very tired bartender.

“That’s rough, buddie.”

“Right?! I don’t try to be exhausting. I just feel a lot of things and I can’t stop talking and bother everyone.”

The bartender nods as he slides a phone across the bar and flashes it at Buck briefly before turning it back to himself.

“He’s just so mad at me. And it’s my fault. Because I sued him. Or, I sued Bobby and basically sued him.”

“Right, right.” The bartender replies as he scrolls through the phone. “You said this Eddie dude is your partner?”

“Yes! And I betrayed him. He won’t even let me see Christoper now.” Buck lets his head slam into the counter of the bar.

“That sounds illegal.” The bartender hummed as he held the phone up to his ear.

“Doesn’t it?! Chris must feel like I abandoned him.” Buck vaguely notices the bartender on a phone call. Great, he’s bothering him now too. “Gotta use the bathroom,” he mutters.

The floor shifts and tilts under his feet as he makes his way toward the men’s bathroom. He feels loose like jello, swaying with every minute movement. He’s grateful the door is a push, otherwise he’d probably be there all night just leaning against it.

The grimy tiles are cool against his buzzing skin and he decides to stay where he’s found himself wound up on the ground against a wall with heavy limbs.

A snort, seconds or minutes later, draws Buck’s attention.

“What’s a cutie like you doing down there.”

Buck looks up and can feel a dopey grin slip onto his face.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” The stranger replies, amused.

After a moment, the stranger presumably realizes Buck isn’t going to respond and continues, “you realize people piss on there, right?”

Buck glances around at the foreign surroundings then shrugs. “I probably deserve it.”

The stranger lets out another disbelieving scoff. “Wow, someone’s messed you up, haven’t they.”

Buck rest his eyes as he lets his head plop against the wall behind him. “It’s my fault.”

“How about we get you off this floor?” The stranger suggests, already reaching under Buck’s arms to hoist him up.

“You’re strong.” Buck grins.

“I work out.” The stranger smirks.

Buck traces a hand over his muscles.

The stranger helps him onto a stall toilet, luckily this is one of the nicer bars that actually have lids on the seats.

“You’re so nice.” Buck murmurs.

“Want me to be nicer?” The stranger murmurs back. When did he get so close?

Buck nods.

Someone liked him. Didn’t hate him. It was nice. Reassuring. Kisses pepper along his jaw, down to his neck. He can feel teeth graze and pull at the skin. It was everything he needed. To not feel, not think. He didn’t hear when the bathroom door opened, or when a voice called out for him. After weeks of being tormented by the voice inside his head telling him he was a traitor to his family, he finally was gifted with reprieve.

That is, until someone rudely interrupts by furiously banging on their bathroom stall.

“Can I help you?” Stranger snarls at new stranger as he swings the stall open.

Without notice, Buck is snatched by the forearm and yanked off the stranger’s lap with a yelp.

He isn’t quite sure what happens next. There’s the sound of skin against flesh, yelling, a thud, then silence.

Next thing Buck knows, the new stranger is in front of Buck, who has found himself on the ground of the grimy bathroom floor again.

“Buck? Hey man, stay with me.”

Buck recognized that voice…

“Eddie?”

“Fuck, I’m gonna kill that bartender.” Eddie runs a stressed hand through his hair.

“You’re bleeding.” Buck worries as he grabs Eddie's hand, flipping it over to examine his knuckles.

“Wha—that’s not important. Buck, do you even know where you are?” Eddie sounds incredulous.

Buck grabs a piece of his own shirt and sloppily dabs at the blood. “You’re bleeding, Eddie. Of course it’s important.”

Eddie groans and yanks his hand away. He’s pissed. That’s right, he’s mad at Buck. “Wait, are you real?”

“Am I—yes I’m real?” Now Eddie’s giving Buck a look he doesn’t quite understand.

“Oh.” Buck furrows his brows. “Why?”

“Why am I real?”

“No,” They weren’t even on the same page anymore. ‘Buck and Eddie’ was gone. Broken. Over. He couldn’t help but let the hurt reflect on his face. “Why are you here?”

“The bartender called. Said you were drunk off your ass.”

“Oh.” Buck let himself slump sideways until he was almost lying on the floor. The only thing that stopped his face from meeting a comfortable, bacteria-littered pillow was Eddie’s leg. “Sorry.”

“Do you know how stupid this was?” Eddie growls.

“What?”

“To go to a bar alone and get wasted, Buck! Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?!” Eddie didn’t wait for a response as he hauls Buck to his feet and continues his tirade. “Do you even realize what was about to happen? I’d say ‘no’ by that dumb look on your face—”

“Eds, your shaking—”

“I’m shaking because I’m pissed!” He drags Buck through the bar and out to the parking lot. “I walked in on you—you—I found you drunk six ways to Sunday and you don’t even seem to care!” He ducks Buck’s head and pushes him into the passenger’s seat.

“I’m fine.”

“That guy was all over you!” Eddie snarls as he aggressively shoves the belt into the buckle of Buck’s seat..

“I liked it.” Buck challenged.

This just seemed to piss Eddie off more.

“You’re too drunk to like it!”

Buck tries to counter but Eddie cut him off by slamming the door shut in his face.

As Eddie climbs into the driver side he continues, “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“I—”

“No.”

“You—”

“No.”

Fifteen minutes into the drive—where Buck mostly sulks—he realizes they are definitely not heading in the right direction.

“Eddie—”

“What did I say about talking?”

“I can’t go to your place, Eddie.”

“I don’t remember asking your opinion.”

“But, Chris—”

“I dropped him off at Abuela’s.”

Buck furrows his brows. It’s late. He knows that, and he says as much. “It’s late.”

“And I dropped him off at Abuela’s.” Eddie repeats.

“What time is it?”

Eddie shakes his head dismissively. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I did!”

Eddie pulls into his driveway and lets out a tired sigh. “Just get in the house.”

“I can take an Uber…”

Eddie groans as he pulls himself out of the driver’s seat and marches to Buck’s side, throwing the door open.

“Out.”

“Are you—”

Eddie grabs him by the forearm again and drags him out of the truck and toward the house. He doesn’t let go until he has Buck seated on the sofa. He then momentarily disappears only to reappear with an armful of blankets and pillows. He practically buries Buck.

Buck lets it happen in utter confusion.

“Why are you being nice?”

Eddie pauses, “What do you mean, ‘why am I being nice?’”

“You hate me,” Buck frowns.

“You think—” Eddie matches his frown, “sure, I’ve been pissed, but I don’t hate you, Buck.”

“But, I betrayed you.”

Eddie lets out a frustrated breath.

“Yea. You did.” He huffs tersely. “You aired out mine, and the rest of the team’s dirty laundry to that lawyer.” He looks Buck over for a moment, almost remorsefully if Buck didn’t know better. His voice even softens slightly as he adds, “But I don’t hate you. None of us do.”

“Oh.” Gravity has been fighting him since Eddie found him on the bathroom floor and he slowly succumbs as he sinks into the couch.

Eddie drags a hand over his face. “We’re going to talk about this more,” he promises, “but right now you need to sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“Buck.”

“Don’t go.”

Eddie is already laying extra blankets at the foot of the couch, “I wasn’t planning on it.”