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There’s a half-eaten cake on the kitchen table and a whole lot of voices in the living room.
Eddie’s smiling about it as he throws his paper plate into the trash can. His face has been frozen like this throughout the night; his cheeks ache about it, and it grows even wider when he hears Karen cackle and Maddie shout “stop, stop, I’m too pregnant!”
He knew there’d be a party—Buck couldn’t keep it in, obviously, but it doesn’t take the novelty away. These people, his family, coming together because he’s back home. Excited that he’s back home, even after the day they’ve all had. It’s a big contrast to how his parents greeted him upon his arrival in El Paso—subdued smiles, pinched expressions.
He hears Chris shriek in his room, followed by Denny and Mara’s giggles, and stands there, right next to the doorway, to take it all in. He takes a breath. Closes his eyes. He doesn’t feel so torn apart anymore. Maybe a little sore after a spontaneous rescue, but nothing that won’t wear off in a couple days.
When he trudges back into the living room, Karen and Hen are sitting together on the floor and using the coffee table to play a card game. Maddie’s got a hand resting on her bump and Chimney’s right beside her, looking way too ready to rush her into the car if needed. Bobby’s got a sleepy Jee in his lap, and with Athena running late, he looks like he’s about to fall asleep right with her. Chris and the bigger kids are playing some new video game in his room, and.
And, because Eddie’s tuned into him like a favorite radio station, he notices that Buck’s missing right away. He scans the room again just to make sure he didn’t miss him somehow, but nope. Nowhere to be found.
He walks further into the hallway and sees the door to the bedroom cracked. He can see, just slightly, the way Buck’s sitting on the edge of—fuck, their bed, and Eddie’s pushing inside before he can stop himself.
Buck looks up, smiling at him like he’s the sun. He’s got a few scratches on his face from before, but they’re all patched up. Eddie fights the urge to reach out and touch a butterfly bandage that lies across his cheek.
“Hey. You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Buck answers quickly. He blinks slowly, sleepy, and starts playing with his hands. “Promise. Just tired, after all of that.”
Eddie blows out a breath and sits right beside him, bed creaking. It’s a little too close, but—he doesn’t care. He was just trapped, and Eddie had to come and get him, civilian clothes and all. He can sit as close as he wants to. He can also allow himself to reach out and push a few curls off of his forehead, so he does, and revels in the way it pulls a shiver from Buck’s body. “Can’t believe you’d do this on the day of my surprise party. Attention seeker.”
Buck huffs out a laugh and digs an elbow into Eddie’s side. Eddie finds himself leaning in, greedy for the contact, for the warmth. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Buck for a second, just—looks at him, and looks at him, and looks at him, while Buck stares down into his lap, where his hands rest. “Asshole.”
“Hey, I saved you today,” Eddie says, and he’s—he sounds so happy. It’s nearly foreign to his own ears, sounding so light and free and giddy. “That how you talk to someone who got you out of a collapsed building unscathed?”
The comment makes Buck look over at him, mouth pulled into a smile. He gestures to himself, at his face. “This is unscathed to you?”
Eddie purses his lips and tilts his head, eyes shining. He’s—he doesn’t know how Buck doesn’t see it. How he’s not saying, woah, Eddie, you’re looking at me like I put the moon in the sky. “Well, all of that happened before I got there.”
“Oh, okay,” Buck says, and he’s doing that thing where he’s trying to calm his smile, but all it’s doing is making him look silly. His eyes are so, so, so blue, even though the lamp’s doing all the work to light up the bedroom. “It’s like that?”
“Mhm,” Eddie hums. He sways into him a little further, their shoulders knocking together, and reaches out to ghost a finger along Buck’s jaw, right next to a fairly irritated scrape. “It’s like that.”
Buck’s silent. He’s breathing in, out, in, out, nostrils flaring with it.
Very hesitantly, Eddie drops his hand down, letting his fingers smooth over the comforter. It feels a little like there’s too much electricity in the air, like it might start buzzing and hissing and shocking them. The hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up, but he can’t look away from Buck’s stare, no matter how much he wants to blow out a nervous laugh and break eye contact.
He’s tired of running anywhere but towards Buck. It’s been a long, long time, and Eddie doesn’t think it could end any way else.
Bobby almost died. It’s the whole reason he’s here. The whole reason he’s fallen into a new routine that’s—so much easier than anything he’s ever experienced. Waking up to Buck, seeing him off to work while he’s waiting to return to duty. Buying groceries together, cooking meals and eating around the table as three. Taking turns with chores. Picking up all these little quirks of Buck’s that he’d forgotten about since quarantine.
Bobby almost died, and Eddie was the one to break out a whole speech about how tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone, and if you love someone, you should tell them.
It wasn’t fun telling Christopher about Bobby. How there was a chance they might lose someone, and they had to get on the next plane to Los Angeles. It wasn’t fun hearing that Buck was trapped under tons of concrete, that there was a possible head injury and genuine worry that since the foundation was getting shakier and shakier, he could be lost under all of it.
Tomorrow isn’t promised.
Tomorrow isn’t promised.
Eddie’s mouth goes a little dry. Buck’s blinking and blinking, eyes wide. It’s so quiet in their room, their room, where they’ve been going to sleep and waking up together, night after night after night. They’ve got designated sides, and Buck snores so loud but Eddie finds he might actually love it, because he’s crazy, or something. Eddie hogs the blankets and Buck grumbles about it over breakfast, but he smiles so big that his tired eyes nearly squeeze shut with it.
This can’t end any other way. They’ve been reaching for each other since the start.
Buck’s opening his mouth like he’s about to say something. Eddie reaches out again and takes his chin, and then it’s snapping shut, abruptly. His eyes are widening more and more, pupils going crazy, and Eddie breathes out, moving into him with purpose. Buck licks his lips, Eddie’s stomach plummets into the ground, and—
And then Karen’s voice shatters into the hallway.
“Buck? Eddie? Where did you two go?”
Eddie jerks backwards with a sharp inhale, stomach flipping so wildly it takes all the oxygen right out of his body. He blinks, and Buck’s—worse off, mouth parted, a flush on his cheeks, and he has to do something, anything, because the footsteps are getting closer and closer.
“We’re, uh,” he shouts, standing up and wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.
His hand’s almost on the doorknob when it opens with a wild swing, Karen all smiley with a glass of red. Eddie’s heart is racing so hard it might be visible through his shirt. “Thena’s here,” she says, bright, and then looks over at Buck.
Eddie also looks over at Buck, because, fuck, she’s going to know isn’t she, but he’s composed himself for the most part, playing up that he’s tired—droopy eyes, leaning back on his elbows.
“Aw,” she coos, taking a few steps inside the room. “You okay?”
“Just tired,” Buck says, voice rough. He looks over at Eddie, just for a second.
“I was just, uh,” Eddie says, eyes darting between the two of them. “Checking in on him. You said Athena’s here?”
Karen blinks at him, tilts her head a little, and—fuck, okay, maybe it’s him, maybe he’s going to give it away. He straightens out his back and swallows. Finally, she says, “Yeah, just got here. You two coming?”
“He’s—”
“Yeah, I’ll—”
They both pause, turning to look at each other with big, big, big eyes. Fuck, there’s no way she isn’t going to talk to Hen about this. There’s no way she can’t see what’s happening. She’s literally a fucking rocket scientist.
Buck gives him a look, like he’s saying, okay, let me handle it. Eddie keeps his mouth shut and lets him speak. “I’ll be right out. I was just taking a breather.”
Karen gives both of them another once over and nods carefully. “Okay,” she says, dragging out the a. “See you out there.”
The door bounces off the frame as she pushes it shut behind her, not quite powerful enough to close it completely. Eddie flexes his hands and takes in a breath, courage simmering down like a drained battery. They’re not close anymore, not close enough to do anything, and Buck’s unmoving on the bed, his body all tense and rigid lines.
Eddie—gulps, looking at him, because Buck doesn’t—he doesn’t look bothered, but he doesn’t look like he’s going to get up and finish the job, either. They’re at a standstill. The air in the room feels less like pops of static and more like a heavy cover of humidity. Their eyes won’t meet.
“Uh,” Eddie manages, pointing to the door. Buck’s eyes are still somewhere past Eddie. “We should get back out there, huh?”
“Yeah,” Buck says.
Eddie’s out the door a second after.
Bobby and Athena are the last ones to leave.
It’s quiet, after. Christopher is knocked out, because he can never get enough sleep these days. Eddie’s in the kitchen putting away the last of the cake, the only thing keeping him company the soft buzz of the refrigerator and the crickets outside the window.
He puts away the few cups he had to wash and then—doesn’t know what to do.
Buck’s—somewhere. Maybe in the bedroom again. He can’t hear him puttering around in the living room, so he must be in there, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He puts them on the edge of the kitchen island and grips, knuckles going white with it.
Surely he can’t have misread everything. But he’s—alone now, so maybe he did.
It’s a struggle getting through his routine, after. He flosses and brushes and swishes with mouth wash, gets his face clean, gets into comfy clothes. His brain’s overworking to the point where it hurts, thoughts going too fast and spinning quickly out of control, and by the time he nudges their bedroom door open, he’s fucking exhausted himself.
Buck’s sitting up on his side of the bed, book open in his lap, but Eddie knows him enough to see how he’s not actually reading, just staring at the pages.
Okay, then. That’s how it’s going to be.
Eddie settles into his side of the bed. Buck inhales, like he’s about to speak, but Eddie lets his eyes close and turns his back to him.
He doesn’t need an excuse. Doesn’t think he could stand hearing it, anyway.
Things are weird.
Things have been weird before, but not like this.
They make breakfast together and expertly dance around each other in the kitchen. Christopher says something funny where he’s waiting at the table and they share a look, like, can you believe he’s somehow got a perfect mixture of our senses of humor, but it crackles and fades away the second they remember why they haven’t been looking at each other all morning.
Buck—apologizes for touching Eddie while they’re watching a movie. He asks if he’s allowed to buy some new kitchen appliance like this isn’t his house and it’s not his own money.
Eddie’s going to fall the fuck apart.
And most of all, he just feels stupid. He was so—sure, he was so sure, and now they can’t even be normal, and it’s all his fault.
Buck is out getting the groceries, because apparently he does that by himself now, when Christopher gives him a pointed look on the couch.
Eddie looks away. “What?”
“What’s happening with you and Buck?”
Eddie bites at his bottom lip and keeps his eyes on the telenovela playing out in front of him. Which, to be real, feels a little too personal this week. The woman is putting a hand over her forehead, all drama and over the top acting, because the man she loves is ignoring her, and like, yeah, yeah, he knows how that fucking feels.
He turns the TV off.
“What do you mean what’s happening with me and Buck?”
Christopher is squinting at him when he turns his gaze back. “Why are you two acting so—weird?”
“We’re not acting weird,” Eddie says, and damn, he shouldn’t have turned the TV off, it’s so quiet and awkward and still and now he can hear the way he’s picking at the loose threads on his sweats. “Why would you think that?”
“Dad,” he complains. “Buck asked me to ask you if you were okay. Why doesn’t he think you’re okay? Why can’t he talk to you himself?”
God, Eddie was hoping Buck would just ask him himself. That’s what he’s been waiting for. He can see the question in his eyes, all the time, and Eddie’s the one who made a move, so Buck should be the one to use up all his bravery this time around.
“He asked you that?” He asks, instead of anything else. “When did he, uh, ask that?”
“Let’s see,” Chris says, and looks up at the ceiling. “Today, yesterday, the day before, the day before, the day before, the—”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Eddie cuts in, cheeks heating up with it. “He—but—what did he ask? Exactly?”
Chris honest to god says, “Oh, brother.”
“I’m your father—”
“It’s a figure of speech—”
The keys jingle in the door. They both pause.
“You should turn the TV back on so he doesn’t see us sitting in silence like freaks.”
Eddie grumbles and complies, the woman onscreen now looking out a window with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Of course, everyone starts noticing.
Hen gives him looks every so often, when he doesn’t make an easy joke at Buck’s expense, or when he goes to hang out by the pinball machine with Chim instead of being glued to Buck’s side, or when he starts humoring Ravi’s conversations about some YouTube comedy channel he’s obsessed with and that Eddie can never remember the name of.
Buck’s giving him these looks. They’re somewhere between apologetic and nervous and something else that Eddie can’t decipher, but there’s no fucking way he’s going to embarrass himself again.
No, Buck can do that. It’s his turn.
They wake up every morning tangled together.
Even though they go to sleep the furthest they can possibly be from each other, they wake up tangled together.
Like this is a fucking romcom.
They’re washing dishes when Buck finally explodes.
Eddie’s drying, Buck’s scrubbing with his stupid smiley face sponge, and then suddenly the plate that’s in his hand is clattering into the kitchen sink so loudly it startles Eddie into dropping his rag.
It hits the floor with a damp thud.
“Jesus, are you—”
“Do you regret it?” Buck asks. His blue eyes are like fire when Eddie looks at him. “It’s okay, if you—just—can you tell me? If you regret it?”
“Regret what?” Eddie asks, and yes, he’s being an asshole, but Buck’s being vague.
Buck clenches his jaw for a split second. “You know what I’m talking about, Eddie.”
Eddie purses his lips and feels his blood start to heat up. He straightens out his back, gets to his full height, and stares up at him with hard eyes. “Do I? I don’t think I do. Because I—you didn’t—you didn’t say anything, and then you were perfectly normal and reading a fucking book when I got back into our room—”
“I was waiting for you, Eddie, I wasn’t even reading the stupid book, I was going to—”
“I know you weren’t reading the book. I know that. I know you and I know everything about you, and I know that you’ve been looking at me like I’m some kicked puppy because you don’t feel the same, which is—that’s fine, Buck, I promise, but you won’t even touch me, you won’t look at me, our kid knows something’s up, so that’s just fucking great, and—”
Buck’s finally finds his voice after gaping like a fish. “Eddie. Eddie. Stop.”
Eddie lets his voice die, panting. “You stop. I’m fine. You don’t have to treat me like—”
“Eddie,” Buck pleads, voice high. “What do you mean I don’t feel the same?”
“I mean you don’t feel the same,” Eddie grits out, on the edge of hysterical. They’re so close. The electricity is back, and Eddie feels the hairs on his arms stick out. “I tried to—you didn’t say anything, after.”
“Oh my god,” Buck says, closing his eyes for a second. “Eddie, that’s not what—”
“Don’t tell me that’s not what happened. It is what happened,” Eddie interrupts, voice raising. “Everybody left, and you weren’t out here with me. You made your big escape and were in bed fake reading a book to get away from me. You could’ve just said—”
Buck reaches out.
Eddie stops fucking talking.
Because both of Buck’s big, warm hands are settling on each side of his face. He’s looking down at him with light in his eyes, a sparkle, like this is hilarious, and maybe Eddie would laugh along with him, if he wasn’t about to die.
His heart’s thundering in his chest. His hands are at his sides, useless.
“I was waiting for you to come to bed,” Buck says, soft. Their eyes are locked in on each other. “So we could talk about it. But you quite literally stomped in, got into bed like a huge grump, and turned your back to me. I thought you—I thought you were doing, like—a reset. A let’s try to forget that ever happened thing.”
“You avoided me,” Eddie says, voice shaking. Buck’s hands are so gentle on him. “I thought I messed up.”
“You didn’t. I wasn’t avoiding you,” Buck nearly whispers. He’s looking at him with such—open affection, that Eddie isn’t sure how he’s still standing upright. “Well—okay, maybe a little—”
“See—”
“Eddie,” Buck cuts in, laughing. “Only because I wanted everyone to be out of our house.”
Eddie’s ears start to ring a little. “What do you mean?”
Buck’s thumbs start to caress the soft skin around Eddie’s cheekbones. He fights a shiver and fails. “I didn’t want to kiss you for the first time with our entire family in the next room.”
“Oh,” Eddie says. The entire world feels like it gets a little brighter. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Buck imitates, smile soft and sweet. One of his hands moves down, down, down, until it’s settled on Eddie’s waist. “Do you want to run it back? Brag about how much of a hero you were?”
Eddie huffs out a breathless laugh and feels heat creep up the back of his neck. Buck’s hand is like a brand through his shirt. “I can, if it makes you hot.”
“Okay. Go ahead, then,” Buck says, trying his best to hold back his smile.
“Really?” Eddie asks, and then it’s like—he knows how to work his body again. He snakes both of his hands up Buck’s body and settles them on his shoulders, and it’s—he’s so big and tall, he has to look up, it ignites a fire in his belly. “So me coming down on that rope for you, that got you—”
Buck’s kissing him.
Eddie gasps, not ready for it, and their teeth clack harshly before they settle into it. And once they do, it’s like—
Fucking magic. Eddie’s never had a kiss that feels like this. It’s fireworks beneath his eyelids, his nerve endings feel frayed, he’s standing up on his tip toes and falling into Buck’s body because he wants to be as close as humanly possible. Buck’s holding him securely, and it’s—insane, it’s making him insane, that Buck’s so strong and can take his whole weight. He’s never felt—small, before, with another person.
Eddie grips at Buck’s collar, sighing, opens his mouth so he can taste him, and eats Buck’s noises right from the source. He’s going to spend the rest of his life getting those sounds from him, these soft whimpers, these rough moans. He’s already greedy for them.
Buck starts walking them backwards, and Eddie pulls away to whine when he’s lifted up and set down on the fucking counter.
“Oh my god,” he moans, crazy with it, out of his mind. His whole brain is just—Buck is big and strong, Buck is big and strong, Buck is big and strong.
“You see why I wanted everyone gone?” Buck asks, chest heaving.
“Stop talking and kiss me, dude,” Eddie complains, pawing at Buck’s shirt, which is, for some reason, still on.
Buck laughs as he moves in and Eddie hums into the contact, lips buzzing at the feeling of stubble, stomach swooping. Buck’s lips are so plump, so soft, such a contrast to the way his facial hair is nipping at him, and he—Eddie loves it so much he’s squirming on the counter.
On the counter, where Buck picked him up and set him down like it was nothing.
Buck’s in between his legs, hands settled on his waist, and he shifts, just a little, but the movement sends sparks down Eddie’s spine, making him jolt and groan into Buck’s open mouth. Because—they’re pressed together, and Eddie’s so hard it’s making his head spin, and now Buck’s moving against him with purpose, grinding in small little movements, and—
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eddie curses, swinging his head to the left. It bangs it against the cabinets behind him. Buck’s mouth finds his jaw, kissing wetly, and Eddie tingles from head to toe, scooting closer to the edge so they can—meld together, even more than they already are. “That feels fucking good, Buck.”
“Put your legs around me,” Buck says, voice rough, and Eddie’s eyes nearly roll back as he does it, locking his ankles around his waist.
The angle is—good, so good, and Eddie can feel Buck through his sweats, hot and hard, and has difficulty staying still. He writhes against him, bucks like he’s on a goddamn mechanical bull, and pulls him down by his stretched out shirt collar to capture his mouth again.
It’s wet and messy, all teeth and tongue, and Buck’s short nails bite into his hips while he pointedly rocks forward.
It’s—it’s probably the most erotic moment of Eddie’s entire life. He’s going to come, already, but his toes are curling too much and his stomach is clenching too hard to feel embarrassed about it.
“Buck,” Eddie starts, a little frantic, pulling away from the kiss. They’re still so close, breathing in each other’s air, and he’s panting, knows he’s blushing with the way he feels like he’s right next to a bonfire. “Keep going, keep going, please, please.”
“I got you,” Buck whispers, voice wavering while he continues to rut against him. They’ve got layers and layers of clothing between them, but they might as well be bare. It’s so intense that Eddie can feel it to his fucking core. He’s shaking, holding onto the sleeves of Buck’s shirt like he’ll die if he doesn’t. “I got you, Eddie.”
And it’s—that, that gets him. Buck saying his name, all breathy and laced with love. It doesn’t sound any different—it’s how he’s always sounded, saying his name.
He’s coming with a shout, rattling the cabinets behind him with the force of his lurch. He’s got his legs wrapped around Buck so tightly it must hurt, but he doesn’t—can’t think about it right now, is too busy having the most unrestrained orgasm of his life.
His hands are shaking where he’s gripping Buck’s arms, eyes squeezed all the way shut, unable to even open, and all he can do is just—sit there while Buck grinds against him with frenzied abandon and feel the way he’s making a mess of himself. He’s trembling.
Buck’s following him soon after, set off by Eddie’s release, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck and letting out deep groans, breath hot. Eddie cradles the back of his head, runs his fingers through his sweat damp curls, and focuses on the way their heartbeats are trying to sync up to each other.
“Fuck,” he says, after a minute, voice wrecked. He lolls his head forward to catch his forehead on Buck’s shoulder and listens to their breathing begin to slow. “I would’ve kicked everyone out, you know.”
Buck breathes out a tired laugh, slumped against him. “Maybe I should’ve. Saved us the trouble.”
“Well, if it got you to lift me onto the counter,” Eddie says, voice tilting up into a tease.
Buck pulls back to look at him. His face is a bright pink, lips kissed swollen, and Eddie gulps, at how gorgeous he looks. How he did that to him. “You liked that?”
“It was alright,” Eddie’s feigning nonchalance, of course he is; he feels his lips twitch upwards and has to grit down on his teeth to hide it.
“Just alright?”
“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, pursing his lips. “Fine.”
Buck starts trailing his hands down until he’s got a loose grip underneath both of his thighs. Eddie tries not to act too giddy, but he’s about a second away from going yippee, or whatever. Buck’s so fucking easy.
He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Buck.
They’re at another standstill.
Buck raises an eyebrow. Eddie raises one right back.
Finally, Eddie rolls his eyes and nods towards the doorway. “Take me to bed.”
He’s off the counter in a second, Buck taking all of his weight easily. If he yelps, that’s between him and the walls of their house.