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At this point in his life, Eddie should’ve known better than to get comfortable.
But he did. He got comfortable.
It’s not like the year has been what anyone would call easy.
But, hey, the two of them hadn’t almost died yet.
Yet.
Of course something like this was about to happen.
It’s not like shit ever stops happening to them.
There were bombs and storms and snipers and natural disasters.
Why not have someone drive them off a bridge?
It fits the fucking pattern.
It’s fucked that enough has happened for there to be a pattern to begin with.
That he’s barely surprised when there’s a crash, and Buck loses control of the truck, and then a second later they plummet downwards, getting rid of gravity for the too long second before there’s another crash and they hit the water.
“Buck?” He says, unbuckling his seatbelt and looking around for the best way out, before the water fills the space, “you okay?”
“Uh—” Buck mumbles, and sirens start ringing in Eddie’s mind as his head snaps to him, looking for signs of trouble. There’s a cut on the side of his head, but he can’t see much else as wide blue eyes meet his.
“Buck?”
“I’m pinned,” he says, pushing against the steering wheel.
“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, moving so he can get better leverage, or as good as he could get in a sinking car, but there’s no give as they both push. Logically, Eddie knows there’s not much he can do with his bare hands, they’ve responded to enough car crashes for him to know that much, but he sure as hell is not letting something like logic stop him right now.
“Eddie,” Buck tries, and he can feel the way he’s looking at him, can tell what Buck is bracing himself to say, and he can’t let him.
“No.”
“You didn’t even let me say it,” Buck complains with a breathless huff, and Eddie glances at him.
“I know what you’re gonna say,” he says, before going back to trying to move the metal he knows he can’t make budge.
“You can’t possibly know that,” he adds, and Eddie sighs, finally looking at him properly.
“You want me to leave you.”
“You can get out,” Buck says, like it’s logical and easy and the thing he should’ve done already because Buck already accepted the outcome, and it kind of makes him want to scream.
“No,” he shakes his head, returning his efforts to the wheel.
“Eddie.”
“I’m getting both of us out,” he says, as stubborn with his words as with the way he tries to force Buck’s way out.
“Eddie.”
“No.”
“You can go get help,” Buck says, but it sounds hollow.
It feels like he just wants Eddie out of the dreadful situation they’re in. Like he can’t understand why Eddie is still there. Why he won’t just leave him there.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
He wants to scream it, see if he can make Buck understand he can’t just leave him behind.
That Eddie could never leave him behind.
That leaving him here would quite possibly kill him.
“Unless you have an oxygen tank around here somewhere, no one is gonna get here fast enough,” he says, instead, and Buck makes a choked noise that makes him turn to him.
“That’s a good idea, you might want to look into that,” he shrugs, and Eddie gives him a disbelief look.
“Buck.”
“Eddie.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You need tools.”
“And if I got out, I would get them where exactly?”
“Maybe you can find something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
“Eddie.”
“No.”
“Chris needs you to get home.”
Buck’s words are low. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t care about how unfair they are.
Because they get the result he wants.
Eddie knows at least one of them needs to get home. And the water is getting too high.
“Damnit, Buck,” he drops his head, taking a deep breath that does nothing to calm him down.
“He can’t lose both of us, he lost enough already.”
“I’ll find something,” he says, meeting Buck’s eyes, and he nods.
“I know.”
“I’m getting you out.”
“I know.”
“You—”
“I know, you got my back, right?” Buck says, voice unstable, eyes shining as he scans Eddie’s face, and he nods.
“Always.”
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Eddie is not sure what takes over him, it’s not like they have time now, and it’s not like he knows what to do, even though he needs to figure it out fast, he just moves closer to Buck, taking his face in his hands, and Buck’s lips quiver as he looks at him, blue eyes positively terrified now.
“I’m not leaving you behind, I’m coming back for you, I would never leave you behind,” he says, trying to ignore how high the water is as Buck closes his eyes and leans into his touch. “I will always come back for you.”
“I know,” he mumbles, hands moving to grip Eddie’s wrists as if he wants them to stay where they are.
Eddie wants that too.
To be able to hold Buck without the threat of imminent doom.
“But now I need you to get out,” Buck adds, leaning away from him with a pained expression.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“Buck, I—” Eddie tries to say it, but chokes on the words, and Buck’s expression softens even through the impossible situation they’re in.
“I know. I know,” he nods, before taking a shaky breath that doesn’t seem to have much to do with the water around them, “now go.”
Eddie doesn’t have to do much as he climbs to the backseat, the glass is shattered enough that he can just brace himself for the water as he pushes it out of the frame.
He still has no idea where he could get any tools or anything to help him, really.
Even though he’s frantically looking around as the truck sinks, he kicks his legs to stay above the surface.
Maybe they’re not as cursed as Eddie believes at the moment.
Maybe there is something out there that doesn’t hate him and keeps trying to prove their point.
Because he gets hit with an answer.
Quite literally, as the bag with car tools he knows Buck keeps in case of emergency, and he hadn’t thought about until now, floats to the surface.
There’s nothing in there with the quality of the stuff they use at the station, but there’s a halligan he’s grabbing at before inhaling deeply and diving after the car.
Buck is unconscious when he reaches his door and wanks it open.
He doesn’t really have time to question what he’s doing. Everything about it feels like his training taking over, not anything he’s choosing to do.
So he just jams the halligan into the space between the seat and the wheel and pushes.
Later, when people ask Eddie how he did it, he won’t have an answer.
He just knows he feels the metal give, and then he has his arms around Buck, kicking his way back up to the surface.
He doesn’t stop to consider the mechanics of what’s happening until after he drags them to the shore.
The problem is that Buck is still not breathing.
“No, no, no.”
Eddie doesn’t think he is either.
He’s not breathing as he gets Buck flat on his back, instinct kicking in as he starts compressions and tries not to think about how he’s being forced to do this again.
How he’s trapped in his personal hell again.
How he keeps finding out what a world without Buck looks like.
How he keeps having to fight nature to keep him.
It’s crazy for him to think they’ve only known each other for a few years.
He lived without Buck for most of his life.
He won’t even get a full decade.
It’s a dark thought to have while he pinches Buck’s nose and breathes for him, before moving back to his chest, but he can’t chase it away.
“You can’t do this to me.”
The last time, it took him weeks to forget the feeling of Buck’s unmoving chest under his hands.
He still places his hand on a pulse point as casually as he can some days, the steady rhythm of Buck’s heart the only thing that can bring him back to himself.
It happens less frequently now.
“Please don’t do this to me.”
Well, it did.
He can already see the new wave of nightmares.
He can also feel the panic rising as Buck just doesn’t react.
Can feel the tears he actually managed to keep at bay last time running down his face without a care about the fact that he doesn’t have the luxury to freak out now.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“I can’t do this without you,” he says as Buck’s chest stays unmoving, voice shaking as if, if he begs enough, Buck will just wake up, “come on, baby, you have to wake up, I have shit to tell you, I can’t—you can’t do this to me again.”
Eddie is properly crying by now, his own breathing feeling unstable, as he watches Buck’s face, willing him to react as he counts compressions.
Then he chokes on a sob when Buck coughs, pushing himself up with the force of it as Eddie all but falls backward, trying to catch his breath as Buck continues to cough.
“That’s it, just let it out, I got you, just—just, yeah, just like that,” he moves to catch him when he drops back, encouraging him to lean on his chest through sharp breaths.
Eddie is not sure what he’s saying anymore. He just keeps mumbling words into Buck’s hair, reminding himself to keep breathing alongside him, hand running up and down his back until his cough subsides to labored breathing, and the sirens he keeps hearing in the distance start sounding close enough for him to know they are there for them.
“Eddie?” Buck breathes, leaning more of his weight against him.
“Yeah?”
“I knew you would figure it out,” he adds, dropping his head against Eddie’s shoulder, startling a wet laugh out of him, before he wraps his arms around Buck, a fresh wave of tears making Eddie cling to him.
“Yeah.”
“Thank you for not leaving me behind,” he mumbles, turning to hide his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck, and Eddie doesn’t think he should be blamed for how it makes him hold on to Buck tighter.
“It’s what we do, right?” He says into his hair, breathing through the way Buck’s words make him want to cry harder, and Buck nods, settling against him.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
It’s a bad moment to say it.
It’s a bad moment for it to be the only thing he can think of.
He should be checking Buck out, making sure there’s nothing seriously wrong, making sure Buck is as okay as he can be as they wait for the rescue crew he can hear somewhere above them.
But the idea of letting go of him is physically painful.
Like this, he can feel Buck’s breath on his skin.
He can count them as he tries to convince himself that the danger is gone.
He can just run his fingers through Buck’s hair and keep him close.
At least until Buck sags against him completely and he can feel his eyelashes fluttering against the skin of his neck.
“No, no, you know the drill, baby, you gotta stay awake,” he says, moving back so he could look at Buck, still holding most of his weight up, and Buck huffs.
“Okay.”
“You’re gonna be okay.”
“I know, you’re here,” he mumbles, adjusting against him, and it tugs on Eddie’s heartstrings, “I’m not getting out of going to the hospital for this one, though, am I?” He says with a mock defeated sound that startles a laugh out of Eddie.
“No, you’re not, how are you feeling? Do you think anything is broken?”
“My leg is throbbing, breathing is not fun, but I don’t think anything is broken.”
“Okay, that’s good,” he nods, trying to move so he can actually do some basic checks, but Buck just grabs at him, trying to hold him in place, and Eddie can’t pass on the chance to sit there and hold him as they wait.
He’s attuned to Buck’s breathing, and the rescue crew seems to be making their way down anyway, so he can stay where he is until he can’t anymore.
Can hold Buck until someone calls for them, and Buck moves until he can sit on his own, and a firefighter Eddie doesn’t recognize is in his field of vision.
Then it’s a hazy few minutes as Buck gets strapped into a backboard and Eddie stands to the side watching them work while one of them tries to get his attention.
“Sir?” The firefighter says, definitely not for the first time, and Eddie finally takes his eyes off Buck.
“I’m fine, he—he was—he was unconscious, it was about three minutes before I managed to get him out and back to the shore and maybe another of cpr before he woke up, he’s been responsive since, but he hit his head, I don’t know if—” he stumbles through an explanation and she nods, eyes kind as she studies him.
“Okay, can you tell me your name?”
“Eddie Diaz, he’s Buck—Evan Buckley, I’m—we’re both firefighters, with the 118.”
“That does explain how you got yourselves out,” she says, glancing up at the broken railing from the bridge, ”we can have someone contact your captain.”
“His sister works on dispatch, I don’t know if she had a shift today, but,” he trails off, and she nods.
“We can inform everyone who needs to know, Buckley, you said?”
“Yeah, she’s Maddie Han.”
“Okay, now you need to let me check you out.”
“I’m fine, his side of the car took most of the impact,” Eddie tries to dismiss, following the rescue crew as they move Buck back up to the road.
“You’re bleeding, and you have just been in a major accident, let me check you,” she argues, following Eddie.
Bleeding? That makes him look down at himself, and he notices a cut down his forearm.
“What about—” he tries once they get up to the trucks, but she interrupts him.
“Your partner is in good hands, now let us worry about you for a second,” she says, and he sighs, letting her do the basic checks while Buck gets loaded into one of the ambulances.
“Can I ride with him?”
“You know the drill.”
“I’m fine,” he complains, and she gives him an unimpressed look.
“You’re gonna crash from the adrenaline before we get him to the hospital, and I’m sure you would appreciate it if we didn’t have to stop focusing on him.”
“Please, I’ll let doctors fuss over me as much as they have to when we get to the hospital, just let me ride with him.”
“Okay,” she says, shaking her head after watching him for a few seconds, and he nods a thanks, before moving into the rig.
“Eddie?” Buck asks once he’s inside, blinking up at him with unfocused eyes.
“I’m here,” Eddie says, running a hand through his hair while the doors close and the ambulance starts to move.
“Are you okay?” Buck asks, finally focusing on his face, chasing his touch, and he lets out a startled laugh.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“You’re asking me?” Eddie huffs, and he nods.
“Yeah.”
“I’m okay, baby, we’re both okay,” he says, and Buck seems to settle further into the gurney, blinking slowly at Eddie.
“That’s good,” he mumbles, grabbing at Eddie’s hand, and Eddie laces their fingers together. It makes Buck let a content sigh as he closes his eyes,
“No, no, eyes on me.”
“The light hurts,” he complains, but still opens his eyes, frowning as he focuses on Eddie’s face.
“Just until we get to the hospital,” he amends, and Buck squeezes his hand.
The ride is faster than Eddie expected. Or maybe he’s also a bit out of it, he’s not sure, he just knows it doesn’t take long until they are stopping, and Buck is being unloaded.
Eddie simply follows.
He knows he is not allowed in the trauma bay with Buck, knows he needs to let someone check his arm because he’s pretty sure he needs stitches, but that doesn’t stop him from lingering next to Buck’s bed as he is hooked up to a monitor, and he answers questions, and a nurse tells them to wait.
It doesn’t stop him from continuing to clutch Buck’s hand while he blinks up at Eddie like he’s not completely sure he’s even real.
It doesn’t stop him from just staying there as a doctor does neuro checks and seems to determine there’s no concussion.
It doesn’t stop him from counting the breaths Buck takes as he watches him like some kind of miracle once they’re alone.
For all Eddie knows, he might as well be.
A miracle he’s not sure he deserves and drives him crazy sometimes, but one he would die to keep.
Not that Buck ever makes the task easy.
Not that he wants easy.
Fuck, he just wants whatever piece of him Buck allows him to keep.
“Mr. Buckley, Mr. Diaz,” a voice breaks him out of his line of thought, “we should stop meeting like this,” Dr. Salazar says, and it makes Eddie chuckle.
He definitely agrees with it.
Seeing her is bringing back the worst of the memories of waiting to see if Buck would make it through.
It makes him turn back to Buck, who’s still watching him with wide eyes.
“Okay, with your history, I want to do a full cardiac workup, make sure there won’t be any lingering effects, as a precaution,” she tells Buck, who groans, melting further into the bed, “and you,” she turns to him.
“I didn’t—”
“You’re getting a full course of IV antibiotics, and stop being difficult and let someone stitch you up while we take him for scans.”
“I—”
“Eddie,” Buck says, looking up at him with pleading eyes that are enough to get Eddie to do a lot on a good day, and today would probably be enough for him to bend to his every whim.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“Okay,” he nods, running a hand through Buck’s hair before he can convince himself he shouldn’t do it, and Buck smiles, chasing his touch, “Okay, where do you want me?” He asks, reluctantly letting go of Buck’s hand and following the doctor she waves over to an empty bed on the other side of the ER, watching as Buck is wheeled away through the doors, the sight too familiar, as he fights the urge to chase it.
Eddie is honestly not paying attention as a nurse hooks him to an IV, and he gets his arm stitched up and wrapped.
And then he’s just wandering around the waiting room after being cleared, as he tries to convince himself nothing is going wrong just because he can’t see Buck to be sure.
“Eddie?”
“Maddie,” he says, turning to her voice, but he barely has any time to react before he finds himself being pulled into a hug.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says, voice muffled against his shoulder, leaving him awkwardly hugging her back before she pulls back to look at him, “you are okay, right?”
“Yeah, just some stitches,” he says, waving his hand helplessly, and she nods.
“That’s good,” she says, looking around the room.
“They took him up,” he replies before she can ask, “they thought that with his history it would be better to do a full workup.”
“What happened?”
“Someone swerved into our lane, Buck lost control of the car, they hit us, and we went right off the bridge. It was too fast.”
“Josh said Buck, he—” Maddie’s voice is trembling as she focuses on Eddie’s face, and he can’t help the urge to try to ease her worry.
“He got pinned, so he was under for a few minutes. I got him out before rescue got there, though, he was complaining about going to the hospital before they even reached us.”
He tries to focus on the good side. Not in the few terrifying minutes he thought he lost Buck again.
“That’s good.”
“They’re confident he’s gonna be fine, just some cuts and some bruising in his leg,” he explains, and she continues to nod before she seems to remember the bag she’s carrying.
“Oh, I stopped by his place to get some stuff for Buck, Howie said you probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you something from his closet. I thought you would be more comfortable with anything anyway,” she says, pushing the bag into his hands.
To be honest, Eddie hasn’t really thought about himself so far. But his shirt is uncomfortably sticky, and he would appreciate a change of clothes while waiting.
“Yeah, no, that’s perfect, thank you,” he says, looking down at his hands, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.
“You sure you’re okay?” She asks, eyeing him, and he nods on instinct.
“Yeah, I’m just—”
“He keeps scaring us,” she fills in the blank, and he can’t help but agree, glancing back at the double doors as if he can will the doctor to come take him to Buck.
“Yeah.”
“It’s hard to have him out of your sight, isn’t it?” Maddie asks, tilting her head slightly, eyes gentle and unnervingly knowing, studying his face, and it’s hard for Eddie to hold her gaze as he nods.
“I don’t think I fully calmed down yet,” he admits, and she grabs his hand, guiding him to the nearest set of empty chairs.
“After the day you had, I don’t think you will any time soon.”
“I know he’s—I know we’re both fine, but—”
“It’s hard to believe it when you can’t see him?”
The question is said in a way that makes it clear that she won’t push it if he doesn’t want to talk about it. And for some reason, the care makes Eddie want to confess to all his secrets.
“I keep thinking about when we had to bring him here for—” he cuts himself, clearing his throat before continuing, “and I know it’s not the same, he’s awake, and talking, and—and, fuck, it’s nothing like that nightmare of a week, but—”
But he thought he had lost him again. He can’t say it out loud. Let alone to Maddie, she’s Buck’s sister, he can’t put that on her, too.
But he thought he had lost Buck again.
He doesn’t know what to do with the feeling.
“I get it,” she says, squeezing his hand, “I think I need a moment every time Chim comes home with a new scratch. Stuff like this, it takes a toll.”
“Yeah, I wish Buck were a little less accident-prone.”
Eddie doesn’t bother correcting the comparison. And he doesn’t miss the way Maddie notices, the way she looks at him like he just confirmed something she suspected.
But honestly, he doesn’t care, let someone else figure it out. Let someone else know.
It’s nice that she doesn’t question him about it. Doesn’t question the unconventional way Buck and he are intertwined with each other. She just squeezes his hand again.
“I’m gonna go get changed.”
“I already called everyone, but you can let me know if you need anything else. I’m sure someone can bring it over for you,” she says, settling to sit more comfortably, while he moves toward the bathroom.
The first thing he notices is that the shirt smells like Buck.
Not that it should be surprising, it is Buck’s after all.
But pulling it over his head after getting rid of the one he was wearing settles something in him in a way he wasn’t expecting.
It’s nothing special, just a burnt yellow t-shirt he’s seen Buck in a few times, but it’s enough to allow him to close his eyes and take a couple of deep breaths and convince himself the threat is really gone.
It allows him to walk back to the waiting room and not feel the need to run.
It allows him to borrow Maddie’s phone and call Chris, check in as best as he can, without freaking him out enough that he would want to leave his school’s weekend-long field trip.
And to just sit next to Maddie and wait as he breathes in.
Not that he’s sitting there long before the doctor comes back, telling them they just want to keep Buck overnight to be safe.
“Oh, you go,” Eddie says when she asks if they want to see him, and Maddie raises an eyebrow at him.
“Don’t be stupid. I’m not the one he’ll want to see first,” she says, standing up and pulling him up with her, “I’ll give you guys a moment while I call Chim.”
Eddie is not sure how else to react, if not by following the doctor up to Buck’s room.
And he can’t help but smile when the door comes into view, and Buck is propped up and fidgeting in the way he does when he needs to stay still for too long.
There’s a single butterfly stitch on the cut on his temple and no other bandages, a single IV on his arm, while he’s just playing with the edge of his blanket, the heart monitor he’s connected to moving with a steady rhythm.
He does look up at the door before he reaches the room.
“Eddie,” he says when he sees him, and he’s caught in Buck’s magnetic field, barely hearing when she says she’ll check on them later.
“Hey, baby,” Eddie breathes, the pet name slipping, but Buck just keeps watching him as he pulls a chair closer to the bed, “how you feeling?”
“Like this is all unnecessary and I wanna go home,” he complains, and it makes Eddie groan.
“Buck.”
“I know, I know, I just—”
“You want to go home,” he echoes, and Buck sighs.
“Yeah.”
“And now the real answer?”
“Would you believe me if I said I feel fine?” He says, shifting so he could lie down, eyes still trained on Eddie.
“Is it the truth?”
“Well, breathing still isn’t all that fun, but I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Buck repeats, frowning at him, and he huffs with amusement.
“You want me to fight you?”
“No?”
It sounds like a question, and it makes Eddie laugh. Probably more than it should. Especially because it is enough to get Buck pouting at him.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“Sorry, sorry,” he appeases, unsure of what to do with the way he feels the need to bite his tongue to stop himself from blurting out what he’s thinking, “Maddie is down in the waiting room.” He ends up settling for a diversion, “she said she wanted to call Chim, but she should be right up.”
“That’s good.”
“Are you gonna make me do all the talking?” Eddie teases after a few moments of charged silence, because as much as silence can be comfortable with Buck, he feels like he’s going to do something stupid if he’s forced to just sit there.
Kissing Buck out of nowhere type stupid.
Blurting out his biggest secret type stupid.
Because he feels raw around the edges, and lately, keeping Buck out of this part of himself is harder than he can deal with.
The box he carefully shoved all his feelings for Buck so he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences is bursting at the seams, and he can’t find it in him to keep the lid in place anymore.
Not with the refresher of how it feels to be forced to drag Buck back to him.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know, man, I’m just trying to keep you awake,” he chuckles, and Buck rolls his eyes.
“I don’t have a concussion.”
“Still.”
“I’m fine, Eddie.”
The thing is, Buck does look as fine as someone can while in a hospital bed. He’s alert, just hooked to the heart monitor
If Eddie didn’t know what happened, he wouldn’t question it. But he can’t force himself to turn off the part of his brain that keeps screaming “danger”.
“That’s relative.”
“I’m just a little sore, I’ll be fine by next shift,” Buck shrugs, eyeing him before shifting around in the bed, “what about you?”
“Me?”
“You do remember you were in the car, too, right?” He says with mock-seriousness, narrowing his eyes at Eddie, “or do I need to call the doctors back?”
“I’m—” he hesitates to take the opportunity to lighten the mood.
“Eddie?”
“You swerved so your side of the car would take all the impact.”
“I was trying—” he tries to defend himself, but Eddie is not really trying to pick a fight.
“I know what you were trying to do, you just freaked me out,” he says, a bit too honestly, given how Buck’s eyes widen.
“But you’re okay?” He tries to ask again, and Eddie sighs, letting him avoid the topic.
“Just some stitches,” he says, showing the bandage on his arm, dropping back in his chair.
“So no lasting damage.”
“Just your truck,” he says, and Buck groans, “come on, picking a new one could be fun.”
“I guess,” he mumbles, watching Eddie for a few seconds, “are you—”
“What?”
“I don’t know, you seem…” Buck trails off, still studying him like he can’t quite figure him out, but Eddie is saved from whatever it is Buck is trying to say by Maddie walking into the room.
He’s not proud of it, but he zones out. Maybe because Buck perks up seeing his sister. The way he can watch Buck’s chest rise, and the way he laughs at something Maddie says. The way he can almost convince himself it hasn’t been a traumatic day.
So he lets himself relax into the chair while Maddie fusses over Buck. While people move in and out of the room, only moving again to ask the doctor if he could stay with Buck for the night, earning a startled glance from Buck and a knowing one from Maddie, when she says that shouldn’t be a problem.
Maddie does pull him to another hug before heading out, telling Eddie to “take care of him,” with a playful smile, that gets him laughing and saluting her as she walks out the door.
But he doesn’t get the chance to overthink the fact that they are alone, he’s barely back in his chair when a nurse comes in to disconnect Buck’s IV and do another check of his vitals.
But he does stare at the door for a few seconds once she leaves.
“Eddie.” Buck’s voice is small, like he’s scared of disturbing the silence, so just leans in closer to the bed.
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, watching him, and he hesitates a couple of times, letting his gaze drop to his hands.
“You called me baby,” he finally says, voice still soft, avoiding Eddie’s eyes, and his breath catches. They’re doing this now, then.
“I—yeah, yeah, I did,” he nods, and Buck’s eyes are wide when he finally looks up.
“You saved my life again.”
“It’s what we do, right?”
“Yeah,” he humbles, still looking unsure, and it tugs on Eddie’s heartstrings that he doesn’t know what to do to get that look off his face.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, and Buck takes a deep breath, as if he’s bracing himself for something.
“Can you—” He tries, but cuts himself off, not noticing that Eddie is already nodding.
“Anything,” he says, because yeah, he’ll do anything Buck wants from him.
Buck seems surprised, though, gasping a little shocked sound, before giving him a resigned look, turning on his side, and shifting back on the bed, on a clear sign he wants him to climb in with him.
Eddie is not sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. But he can’t deny Buck anything right now, so he’s moving before fully making the choice.
The bed is not big enough for 2 grown men. He tries his best to settle in without disconnecting anything, mirroring his position, and he barely stops moving before Buck sighs and shifts closer, into his chest. So he sneaks his arm under his neck, gives him the permission to get as close as he wants, his hand moving so he can run his fingers through his hair.
“This better?” He finally asks once Buck stops moving, his weight fully on Eddie now, and he nods, hiding his face on his neck. “Okay,” he breathes into his hair, shifting under him while being careful not to move him so he can wrap his arm around him, and Buck melts further against him, one hand fisting the front of Eddie’s shirt as he makes a content little noise that Eddie just wants to hear again.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
They are crossing a line.
This is crossing the line that’s been carefully placed between them and that they have danced around for longer than Eddie is willing to admit.
And Eddie needs to tell him.
He can’t keep not telling him.
Even if he’s scared, he can’t keep pretending it’s not there.
He can’t keep acting like he doesn’t love Buck with everything he has.
So he needs to tell him.
He needs to tell him because the world keeps trying to take him away, and he can’t keep living with the way Buck doesn’t know how loved he is.
“Eddie?” Buck breaks him out of his line of thought, whispering into his chest.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Am I reading this wrong?”
“No, no, you’re not,” he says, arms instinctively tightening around him, and Buck nods.
“And it’s not because of the accident?” He asks, voice small, and something inside Eddie breaks.
“Sweetheart,” he says, shifts so he can make Buck look at him, feels his heart skip when unfairly blue eyes meet his, staring at him with something that’s half fear, half hope. “I love you.”
“Eddie,” he breathes, eyes wide.
“It’s not a new thing, and I wanted to tell you under better circumstances, but I love you, so no, it’s not about the accident, I just don’t want to waste any more time,” he admits, a hand moving to Buck’s jaw when his bottom lip trembles and he blinks rapidly as his eyes water, thumb softly moving on his cheek, “hey, hey, what—”
“I love you, too,” Buck interrupts him, voice heavy, before hiding his face on his neck again, and Eddie lets his hands find his hair, holding him closer when he feels the wetness on his shirt.
“Okay, that’s good, right? Why are you crying?” He asks, trying to move, but Buck just makes a displeased sound and nuzzles further into him.
“I think the day finally caught up to me.”
“Okay,” he says, continuing to play with his hair, letting Buck do what he needs to do.
“I love you so much,” he says, arms going around Eddie’s waist as he squeezes him closer, before pulling back to look at him.
“I love you, too, baby,” he nods, but there’s a frantic edge to Buck now, eyes rimmed red as he stares at him.
“I didn’t want to say it in there, put that on you like that,” he tries to explain, and Eddie moves his hand to his cheek, wanting to try and get him to breathe.
“Hey,” he starts, but Buck shakes his head before leaning into his touch.
“I was scared I wasn’t going to get the chance.”
“I’m always gonna go get you,” Eddie says, because it’s true, he’s never going to stop trying, “I don’t wanna do life without you,” he adds, and Buck gives him a stunned look.
“Do you know you’re, like, super romantic, or is all this by accident?” He asks, with a wet chuckle, whipping his face with his hand, and Eddie shrugs.
“Do you feel loved?”
“Yeah,” he breathes, settling into the arm Eddie still has under his neck so he can keep looking at him while Eddie adjusts the covers over him.
“Then does it matter?” He asks, meeting his eyes, and Buck watches him with painfully fond eyes.
“I don’t wanna do life without, either.”
Buck says it like it’s a rushed confession, expression softening, and Eddie moves to wrap his arm around him and drag him closer.
“That settles it, then,” he says, pressing a kiss to Buck’s birthmark, just because he can’t help it with the way he’s looking at him.
“This is what I should expect, then?” He asks, with a soft smile, hand tracing up Eddie’s arm, and he fights back the way it makes him shiver.
“Do you like it?”
“I could get used to it,” he whispers, hand stopping on his jaw, and Eddie is suddenly overwhelmed by how close they are.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“Good,” he says, brushing their noses together, and Buck gasps into the space between them, before letting his eyes fall closed and giving Eddie the softest of first kisses.
It’s over too quickly, though, Buck pulling back to anxiously gauge his reaction, but Eddie moves his hand to his neck, pulling him back in.
Buck melts into him with a pleased sound, lips parting under his as he deepens the kiss, getting lost in the feeling until the steady beeping of the heart monitor Buck’s is still connected to, and Eddie had tuned out now Buck was close enough he could feel his breath in his skin, starts to beep faster.
Fast enough to make itself known, and Buck pulls back, his face blushing so hard that even his birthmark deepens.
Eddie barely has time to be smug about it before a nurse rushes into the room, stopping in her tracks once she sees them, giving them an unimpressed look.
“You can’t stay here if you’re gonna do something to alter his heart rate,” she chastises, but there’s an edge of amusement to her words.
“I will behave,” Eddie nods, and she points a finger at him.
“And I’ll know if you don’t,” she says, before turning on her heels.
“That was something,” Eddie turns to look at Buck, and they both break down laughing.
It feels good, after the day they had, to be able to just hold Buck as they laugh.
To be able to kiss his hair when he makes himself comfortable against his body, fitting himself to Eddie like he’s meant to be held by him.
“We can figure the rest out, can’t we?” Buck asks once they fully calmed down, and Eddie squeezes him closer, even though he’s not sure there is closer.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“It’s what we do, right?”
Buck just kisses him again.