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The first thing Buck notices when he opens the front door is the quiet.
Not the ordinary kind of quiet that comes with an empty house, the kind that usually makes the place feel a little too big when Buck is the only person in it after a long shift. Not the dead kind of quiet that comes from being alone.
This is different. Softer somehow, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant ticking of the clock in the kitchen. A serene kind of quiet, that comes with settling down after a long day. The gentle kind that comes about when you get to just sit in the presence of your person and soak up their warmth.
There is a lamp glowing somewhere deeper inside, casting a warm pool of golden light across the hallway, and the faint scent of whatever Eddie must have made for dinner still lingers in the air. Something warm and buttery, maybe pasta. Buck can smell garlic beneath it, and something sweet that reminds him of the cinnamon waffles he keeps in the freezer for Theo.
His eyes adjust to the dimness as he steps inside.
A half-empty mug sits on the little table beside the door, abandoned before whoever had been drinking it could finish. Eddie's boots are kicked off beside it, one lying on its side and the other slightly crooked, as though he'd been too tired to bother making them match. Theo's tiny trainers are abandoned underneath the coat rack, one also on its side and the other somehow several feet away.
Buck smiles before he even sees them.
He closes the door carefully behind himself, catching the handle before it can click too loudly, then shrugs his bag from his shoulder and sets it down gently rather than letting it hit the floor with its usual heavy thump.
"Guys?"
Nothing, but Buck's smile widens anyway.
Because he knows they're here. He can see evidence of them everywhere.
A blanket is bunched over the back of the couch. There are two plates sitting on the coffee table, one with a few crumbs still scattered across it, and a handful of toy cars are spread across the rug in a pattern that probably makes perfect sense to Theo. One has been abandoned upside down beneath the coffee table, its little wheels still visible from where Buck stands.
A children's book is lying open on the armchair. There is a tiny plastic dinosaur sitting on top of one of Buck's magazines. And somehow, inexplicably, one of Theo's socks is sitting in the middle of the living room.
It should look messy.
Instead, somehow, it makes the house feel lived in. Warm. Like people belong here. Like a family lives here.
Buck follows the faint glow from the living room, rounding the corner slowly, and stops in the doorway.
"Oh."
The word barely makes it past his lips.
Eddie is asleep on the couch. And Theo is asleep on Eddie.
They're tangled together beneath the blanket, Theo's small body curled almost entirely into Eddie's chest, his head resting just under Eddie’s chin. One of his little hands is fisted in the front of Eddie's shirt, gripping the fabric with the unconscious determination of a child who had apparently decided that letting go wasn't an option even after falling asleep.
Eddie's arm is wrapped securely around him. Not loosely. Securely.
His hand rests against Theo's back, fingers curled gently into the fabric of his shirt, his thumb sitting just beneath Theo's shoulder blade. Even asleep, Eddie's body has arranged itself around Theo almost instinctively, creating a protective barrier between him and the rest of the room.
His head has fallen slightly sideways against the back of the couch. His dark curls are messy, flattened on one side and sticking up on the other, and there is a faint crease between his eyebrows even in sleep.
Buck knows that crease.
He knows Eddie well enough to know exactly what kind of day this probably was. The tired kind.
The kind where Eddie insisted he was fine despite still being on medical leave, despite the pain that sometimes caught him unexpectedly when he moved too quickly, despite Buck repeatedly reminding him that medical leave meant he was actually supposed to rest.
Apparently Eddie had interpreted rest as babysitting.
Which, honestly, was fair, because Buck had done exactly the same thing.
Years ago, when he'd been stuck at home on medical leave, Eddie had dropped Christopher off with him because he'd needed someone to watch him while he worked. He’d said “he’s hanging out with his Buck, today!” as he’d corralled Chris onto the couch and left.
Buck had complained. Had felt completely inadequate to look after his best friend’s kid.
But he'd also been secretly thrilled, that while he had no faith in himself whatsoever, Eddie’s had never wavered.
And now, apparently, Eddie was getting his turn.
Buck had told him that morning that Theo would be perfectly happy hanging out with him while Buck worked.
Eddie had rolled his eyes. "You mean you're dumping your kid on me because you haven’t figured out childcare yet."
Buck had corrected. "You're borrowing him. He’s gonna help you keep your mind off things while you heal!"
Eddie had raised a brow with his arms crossed over his chest, "That's not how children work."
Buck had grinned, then given a one-armed shrug, "You're on medical leave. You have nothing else to do."
Then he turned to leave, but not without throwing, “oh, but uh, this one is very fast. Good luck!” over his shoulder with a cheeky grin.
Eddie had stared after him for several long seconds, his expression making it abundantly clear that he was considering several different ways to explain to Buck that being stabbed did not mean he'd lost the ability to entertain himself.
Buck had simply smiled wider, and apparently that had been the end of the argument.
Now, looking at them, Buck thinks maybe Eddie had gotten the better end of the deal. Because Theo looks completely content.
And Eddie—
Buck's chest does something strange.
He stands there for a long moment without moving, his hand still resting against the doorframe as though he's forgotten what he came into the room to do.
There is something about seeing them like this that gets underneath his ribs.
Maybe it's the sheer domesticity of it. Maybe it's because Eddie looks so comfortable. Not just asleep, but settled. Completely in his element. Like this is somewhere he belongs. Like this is his couch and this is his blanket and this is his little boy curled against him and this is exactly where he's supposed to be.
And Theo looks like he belongs there too.
Buck's gaze travels over the scene slowly, taking in every tiny detail as though he might somehow memorize it without meaning to.
Theo's cheek is squished against Eddie's chest, his eyelashes resting atop them with his curls sticking up in several different directions. One little leg is thrown across Eddie's thighs beneath the blanket, while Eddie's arm curves around him, his fingers occasionally twitching against Theo's back in some unconscious reminder that even asleep, Eddie is still making sure he's there.
Buck's heart aches.
Because that's his kid. His Theo.
Well. Not his, technically, not yet. Buck knows that.
Theo has parents, and family, and a whole life that doesn't belong to Buck. He has a past that Buck refuses to erase, or write over, or dismiss.
But somewhere along the way, Buck had allowed himself to stop thinking of himself as merely Theo's babysitter. As the man who looks after him now because his parents are gone, and Buck’s somehow lucky enough to be the closest thing he has to DNA.
He was the guy Theo reached for when he was excited. The guy Theo climbed onto when he wanted to be carried. The guy Theo asked for when he was tired. The guy who knew which snacks he liked and which cartoons he would tolerate and exactly how much honey he wanted in his tea.
And Eddie? Buck swallows as he realises Eddie is the one who somehow makes all of that feel even more significant. Because Buck has always loved seeing Eddie with Christopher. He's loved watching Eddie be a dad since the very beginning, even before he'd really understood why the sight of it made something warm settle in his chest.
But this is different.
This is Eddie with Theo. His best friend with his son.
Because there is something almost unbearably sweet about it.
Eddie had once trusted Buck with Christopher. Trusted him enough to leave his son in Buck's care. And now Buck trusts Eddie with Theo.
Not because Eddie needs to prove anything. Not because Buck is worried. But because there is no one else he'd rather see sitting here, cradling his kid. No one else he'd rather come home to.
The thought makes his chest tighten, and Buck imagines, just for a second, what this could look like if it were normal. If this were every day. If he could come home from a shift and find Eddie asleep on his couch with Theo curled against him. If Eddie's boots could always be kicked off beside the door. If Theo's toys could always be scattered across the floor. If the kitchen could always smell like whatever Eddie had cooked. If the house could always feel like this.
Warm. Soft. Full. Home.
Buck exhales slowly, then shakes his head. He’s just tired, that’s all. Twelve hours on shift will make anyone sentimental. He blames the lack of sleep.
Definitely not the way Eddie's arm is wrapped around Theo. Definitely not the fact that the sight makes Buck want to stand here forever.
Buck finally steps closer, deciding he should probably get Theo to bed.
He crouches beside the couch and studies Theo for another second before carefully reaching down, brushing a stray curl away from the little boy's forehead.
"Hey, buddy," he whispers.
When Theo doesn't move, doesn’t even stir, Buck smiles. Definitely his kid.
"Come on. Let's get you into bed." He carefully slips one arm beneath Theo's chest and another beneath his legs, moving slowly enough that Theo should hopefully not stir.
But Theo makes a tiny, sleepy noise and instinctively curls closer to Eddie.
Buck freezes, then has to suppress a laugh. Definitely his kid.
"Okay," he whispers, "Apparently we're not doing this easily."
He adjusts his grip, preparing to lift him properly. He barely gets Theo's weight lifted even the slightest bit before Eddie's arm tightens.
Buck stops, and for a second, he thinks Eddie is still asleep.
Then Eddie's fingers curl more firmly into Theo's shirt. He sniffles, then says, "Don't even think about it."
Buck blinks and turns his attention from Theo to Eddie, "Uh."
Eddie pulls Theo closer against his chest with a sleepy, stubborn little movement, tucking the boy beneath his chin as though Buck has just attempted to steal something enormously precious rather than move a sleepy child approximately ten feet to his bedroom. "Mine."
Buck stares at him, then feels a giggle bubble in his chest, "Yours?"
One of Eddie's eyes cracks open just enough for Buck to see the sleepy glare underneath them. "Yes." His voice is rough with sleep, barely louder than a mumble, but there is enough conviction behind the single word to make Buck pause.
"Eddie," Buck says, keeping his voice deliberately gentle, "I'm just putting him to bed."
Eddie's brow furrows. For several seconds he seems to be processing this information through the thick fog of sleep, and Buck can practically see the moment his brain catches up with the fact that Buck is standing there trying to steal away the warm little body he'd apparently spent the last hour cuddling.
Eddie's arm tightens again, his frown deepening as he shakes his head, "He's fine right here."
Buck glances down at Theo, who is indeed fine. He’s completely limp and peaceful against Eddie, having somehow snuggles deeper into him since Buck tried to lift him, and the sight melts Buck’s heart a little more.
Buck bites back a laugh as Eddie's eyes drift shut again, apparently satisfied that this explanation has settled the matter. Buck remains crouched beside the couch and stares at him in disbelief.
"Eddie." He gets a quiet hum in response, and raises a brow at his best friend's lack of interest in responding. "You're half asleep."
Eddie’s words are nothing more than a mumble when he says, "Still right."
Buck presses his lips together, trying not to laugh loudly enough to wake Theo. "You can't keep him hostage on the couch all night."
Eddie shifts beneath the blanket, his face scrunching slightly as though Buck has just suggested something deeply unreasonable. He pulls Theo closer again, resting his cheek lightly against the top of the boy's head. "Watch me."
Buck's eyebrows lift. "Oh, we're doing this?" When Eddie doesn’t answer, Buck rolls his eyes and says, "You know he's going to have a stiff neck tomorrow."
Eddie opens one eye again, and Buck can see the way he’s fighting a smile. "You don't know that."
"I've seen the way you sleep. You’ll kill the kid," Buck says, sending him a glare.
Eddie’s quick to retort, "he’d die comfortably."
Buck laughs under his breath. "You are impossible."
Eddie's eye closes again, and he settles back into the cushions with a sigh. "Go to bed, Buck."
Buck gives a shocked snort, "This is my house."
Eddie's mouth twitches again. "And this is my time with Theo."
There’s something about the way he says it—sleepy and utterly matter-of-fact, like there isn't even a question in his mind about it—that makes Buck's smile soften. He looks down at Theo again, then back at Eddie. "You're really not letting me have him, are you?"
Eddie's eyes remain closed, and he starts to get a satisfied smile on his face. "No."
Buck lets out a quiet sigh, deliberately dramatic enough that Eddie's mouth twitches again. "He’s my kid."
Eddie nods, but doesn’t try handing him over, "I know."
"I'm supposed to be the one who puts him to bed. You're stealing my job," he says, though it’s half-hearted, and they both know it.
Eddie's eyes open again, and this time there is the faintest spark of amusement behind them. "You left him with me."
Buck shakes his head smiling, "Because I had to work."
Eddie gives him the tiniest shrug, though he doesn't loosen his hold on Theo. "He's mine for the day."
Buck stares, then shakes his head, "You're ridiculous."
Eddie's sleepy smile grows. "You're jealous."
Buck tilts his head to the side as he asks, "Of my own kid?"
Eddie’s answer comes concrete and sure, "Yes."
Buck scoffs quietly. "I'm not jealous. I'm literally just trying to put him to bed."
Eddie pouts, then grumbles, "because you want to steal him."
Buck rolls his eyes, "I can’t steal him– he's my kid."
Eddie's smile turns softer. "Exactly. Glad you’ve come to your senses."
Buck looks at him. Something about the sleepy little smile on Eddie's face makes his heart stumble.
“Come to my senses? Eddie I-” he starts.
But Theo stirs at the sound of Buck's voice, his face scrunching slightly as he shifts against Eddie's chest. His fingers loosen from Eddie's shirt, his head turning restlessly as a tiny, sleepy whine escapes him.
Eddie reacts before he's even properly awake.
His hand immediately moves up Theo's back, rubbing slow, gentle circles through the fabric of his shirt while his other arm tightens around him, pulling him securely back against his chest. "Hey, hey," Eddie murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep. "I've got you."
Theo makes another little noise, his eyebrows pinching together as though he's trying very hard to wake up and very much doesn't want to.
Eddie presses a soft kiss into his hair. "Shh. Go back to sleep, mijo."
The simple tenderness of it catches Buck completely off guard.
He watches as Eddie patiently rocks Theo the tiniest amount against his chest, barely moving enough to disturb the blanket, his palm continuing those slow circles until Theo's breathing begins to even out again.
Within seconds, Theo relaxes.
His little fist finds Eddie's shirt once more, gripping it loosely, and his whole body settles back into the warmth of his father's chest.
Eddie waits another few seconds before finally lifting his head and looking at Buck. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but there's a faint, deeply unimpressed look on his face. "You woke him."
Buck blinks. "I—"
Eddie raises one eyebrow. "You disturbed my Theo while he’s sleeping."
Buck glances down at Theo, then back at Eddie. "I barely touched him."
"And yet," Eddie says solemnly, gesturing vaguely toward Theo as though presenting evidence in court, "he was asleep until you came over here."
Buck bites back a grin. "You're blaming me?"
"Absolutely." Eddie settles his cheek against the top of Theo's head again, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
Buck shakes his head, but the smile doesn't leave his face. Because there's something about watching Eddie like this that makes it impossible to be annoyed. The way his entire expression softens when he looks down at Theo. The way his hand keeps moving over Buck’s son's back without Eddie seeming to realize he's doing it. The way he knows exactly what Theo needs without having to think about it.
Buck has seen Eddie be a father a thousand times.
He's watched him with Christopher, watched him worry and fuss and tease and protect, watched him become the steady centre of his son's world even when Eddie himself didn't seem to realise just how much Christopher depended on him.
But seeing this still does something to Buck.
Maybe because this is his house. His couch. His kid curled against Eddie like he belongs there. And Eddie looks so completely at ease with him that Buck can almost see the shape of a life he hasn't let himself imagine too clearly.
Something warm presses behind his ribs, and he has to look away before Eddie can notice.
"Fine," Buck whispers, settling back against the couch. "I'll try not to disturb your precious sleeping beauty again."
Eddie gives him a sleepy, satisfied smile. "Thank you."
Buck watches as Eddie closes his eyes again, his hand still resting protectively against Theo's back. And despite the teasing, despite Eddie's ridiculous accusation, Buck can't help thinking that if this is what happens when he comes home—
Maybe he doesn't mind being reprimanded at all.
For a moment neither of them says anything more.
Buck's eyes drop to Eddie's arm, still wrapped securely around Theo, then to Theo's little face, peaceful against Eddie's chest. The way Eddie refuses to give him up. It should be ridiculous. It is ridiculous.
And yet Buck doesn't want to take the picture apart. He doesn't want to break the warmth of it.
So instead of arguing again, he stands and lifts Eddie’s feet. Eddie groans about it, grumbles as he and Theo are disturbed. He frowns, until Buck sits on the other end of the couch and pulls Eddie’s feet into his lap.
Eddie watches through half-closed eyes as Buck reaches for the corner of the blanket and gently pulls it higher over Theo's back, tucking it around both of them. "There," he whispers.
Eddie makes a quiet sound of approval, settling back down.
Buck leans back against the couch, then points at him in warning, "Five minutes."
Eddie's eyes close, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips as he nods in agreement. "Five."
"Then I'm taking him to bed," Buck says resolutely.
Eddie's arm tightens around Theo one last time. "We'll see."
Buck shakes his head, smiling. "You are such a pain."
"And yet," Eddie murmurs sleepily, "you love me anyway."
Buck goes still.
The words are so quiet that he isn't sure Eddie even knows he said them. Eddie's breathing is already slowing again, his face relaxing as he settles back into the cushions.
Buck looks at him for a long moment. Then at Theo. And something warm settles deep inside his chest.
He quietly reaches down and lets his fingers curl around Theo's tiny hand where it rests against the blanket. Theo's fingers close instinctively around his.
Buck's breath catches.
He looks at Eddie, but Eddie doesn't open his eyes. There is only that faint, sleepy curve to his mouth.
Buck smiles.
Maybe five minutes isn't such a bad idea. Maybe he can give them a little longer.
He settles into the couch cushions behind him, careful not to disturb the two sleeping figures tangled beneath the blanket, and lets the quiet of the house settle around him.
For once, the silence doesn't feel empty.
It feels like home.