Archive of Our Own

Eddie’s son is coming home.

That thought has been circling in his mind for weeks, settling deep in his chest, expanding every time he lets himself really feel it. Christopher is coming home, and all it took was honesty, real, painful, terrifying honesty, to start thawing the ice that had built between them.

Turns out, the hardest part of the whole thing wasn’t the talking. 

It wasn’t even the awkward silences or the moments when Christopher had to process the pieces of Eddie’s past he’d never shared before.

No, the hardest part was realising that the person he’d spent his whole life trying to be, the one who followed the script perfectly, was never the person Christopher needed in the first place.

Eddie had been playing a role since before he even knew what parts of himself he was pushing down. 

A good Latino Catholic boy, never questioning, never straying. He was an altar boy even though he wasn’t convinced God was listening, played baseball even though he would’ve rather been anywhere else, took on the role of man of the house at twelve even though he’s always preferred being part of a team over leading one. He married Shannon straight out of high school because that’s what was expected when he got her pregnant. All while quietly trying to ignore the fact that, at fifteen, he’d spent most of freshman English class staring at Mr. Paytas’ hands instead of his notes.

But honesty unraveled things.

Mostly in a good way.

Eddie and Christopher had talked, really talked… more than they ever had before. No half-truths, no dodging, no hiding behind what felt easier to say. 

Just honesty, stripped bare and laid out between them.

Eddie is gay.

It’s not new. Not really. If he’s being honest with himself—which, apparently, is his new thing, he’s probably always known. Maybe not in the kind of way that lit up neon in his brain, but in the quiet, persistent way of something fundamental. Something he buried so deep under fear and expectation that he spent years convincing himself it wasn’t there at all. 

But it was. It always was.

Christopher knows. His therapist knows. He’ll get around to telling the rest of the people he cares about eventually, just as soon as he figures out what exactly, this means for him. 

For his life.

But for now, all that matters is that Christopher is coming home on January 2nd. 

Sure, Eddie is going to miss Christmas with him and that really sucks. But he’s working anyway, and this way Christopher gets to be with his grandparents and his aunts and cousins.

What really matters is that they’ve already planned Secondmas (a term Christopher approved of only after rejecting ‘Rain Check Christmas’ and ‘Tinseluary’). 

The weekend after he gets back, they’re going to do the whole thing, tree still up, stockings still filled, tamales still warm.

Eddie already has Christopher’s Christmas gift planned: a complete bedroom redecoration. 

His big boy room, even though he knows Chris would absolutely hate him calling it that. Not that Eddie cares. His kid might be growing up, might be carving out more independence, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still Eddie’s baby.

And his baby is coming home.

Eddie had no business enjoying decorating Christopher room as much as he did.

Buck helped with the whole project. The paint, the framed, the gaming desk, bean bags and a double bed. Buck had helped him pick out everything after spending an ungodly number of hours scrolling Pinterest. It was about giving his kid a space that felt like his, that reflected who he was growing into. 

It had nothing to do with Eddie being relegated to the floor with a beer while watching his best friend, broad and shirtless, paint the walls like some kind of HGTV thirst trap.

He’s gay now, he can look.

God bless Buck.

And, honestly? God bless men.

The walls were just white except one that was a shade called Pussywillow grey. Buck’s pick, which of course had led to a string of jokes that Buck had shut down with a well aimed paint roller. It was nice, though. A sort of greenish-grey that Eddie actually liked, not that he’d ever admit Buck was right. 

Green is Christopher’s favourite colour, so the accents were going to be deep, earthy greens—forest, moss, a little dark jade for contrast. Everything was sleek, modern, grown-up. 

Christopher was going to love it.

Eddie, meanwhile, was already mourning the chaos of the old room. The drawings tacked haphazardly to the walls. The toy bins overflowing with evidence of a childhood that felt like it was slipping through his fingers faster than he was ready for.

But this was good. This was right. Letting Christopher grow, letting him take ownership of his space.

The only thing left to do was install the LED strip lights along the ceiling, because, apparently, it was a teenager requirement.

“I don’t think he needs more lights,” Eddie grumbles, holding the ladder steady while Buck reaches up to press the adhesive strip into place. “He has two lamps.”

“How many times do I have to say this?” Buck huffs. “It’s in every teenager’s bedroom on Pinterest. Just trust me.”

And, well. Who was Eddie to argue? He’d trusted Buck with far more important things than slightly tacky, neon mood lighting.

The thing is, Eddie isn’t exactly focused on the task at hand, because the second Buck stretched to reach the far corner, his shirt rides up just a fraction. Just enough to expose a strip of taut, toned stomach and a neat little trail of light hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his dark jeans. 

Right in his eyeline.

His thoughts derailed, crashing into each other in a spectacular mental pileup.

There was no reason for it to be that distracting. No reason for his mouth to go dry or for the absolutely deranged thought of I want to lick him to bolt through his head like some kind of perverted divine revelation.

Jesus Christ.

“Shit, Eddie!”

It happened all at once.

Eddie, too distracted to keep his grip, let go of the ladder. Buck, top heavy and reaching too far, toppled like a goddamn tree, crashing down with all the grace of a demolition site.

“Oh, fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

Eddie stood there, frozen, as Buck hit the ground with a brutal thud and then, because apparently that wasn’t bad enough, he screamed and immediately leaned over and threw up all over the floor.

“Buck!” Eddie dropped to his knees, hovering uselessly as Buck went sheet white. “Shit, shit, shit… are you okay?”

“Oh my god, no,” Buck choked out, shaking his head wildly before groaning, “No.”

And then Eddie saw it.

Buck’s arm.

Bent at an angle an arm was absolutely not supposed to bend.

For a split second, Eddie thought he might pass out. His stomach lurched, blood drained from his head, but he forced himself to snap out of it. He’d seen worse. 

He’d handled worse.

But this was Buck.

Buck was in pain because Eddie had been too busy mentally salivating over his abs to do the one simple job he had. 

Hold the damn ladder.

He was a terrible friend.

“Eds, I need your help here, man.”

“Right.” Eddie gave himself a shake, snapping into action. “Shit- should I call 911?”

Buck shot him a withering look from the floor, spread out beside a puddle of vomit. “Eddie, come on. This is literally our job.”

“Right,” Eddie says again, heart pounding as he ran to grab whatever he could find. He pieced together a makeshift splint, wrapping Buck’s arm as carefully as he could while Buck bit down on his own shirt to muffle his groans.

“You’re in shock,” Eddie tells him.

“No shit,” Buck ground out, voice strained. “My fucking arm is in half.”

Eddie swallows hard. “I- I didn’t mean to let go of the ladder.”

Buck let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “I know,” he says, sucking in a pained breath. “I should’ve just… fuuuck, I should’ve moved the ladder instead of reaching—” He exhales shakily, face tight with pain. “Oh, god.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs, shifting to brace Buck’s arm against his chest.

Buck sucked in a breath, face screwing up in agony. “Warn a guy, shit. Your bedside manner is usually better than this.”

“I’m freaking out, okay?” Eddie admits, trying and failing to keep his voice level.

Buck groans. “You’re not in the desert, man.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. “Low blow.”

“I’m allowed,” Buck grits out. “My arm is broken.”

“Right, okay, let’s get you up,” Eddie says, carefully shifting to help Buck sit upright. “Then I’ll take you to the ER.”

Buck looks dazed, unfocused. 

“Arm above your heart,” he mutters.

“I know,” Buck grits out, while Eddie helps him lift it.

Buck’s head lolls back against the wall as he exhaled sharply. His skin is clammy, his hair a mess, eyes glassy and unfocused, his eyelashes wet and clumped together. He looks thoroughly beaten. 

Eddie glances at the floor.

“Good thing we didn’t put the new rug down yet, huh?” he jokes weakly, eyeing the pile of vomit with a grimace.

Buck did not look amused.

“Just help me up.”

Eddie tried. Really, he did. 

But Buck was a big guy, and, well— Buck practically made of cement.

“Jesus, man, what have you been eating?” Eddie grunts, bracing himself under Buck’s good arm. “This latest bulk has you built like a fucking boulder.”

Buck shoots him a withering glare. “Are you calling me fat right now?”

“What? No!” Eddie says quickly, then immediately made it worse by blurting, “You look really good actually.”

Silence.

Buck just stares at him, and Eddie felt every molecule in his body catch fire. His face burned, his brain screamed, and then, mercifully, Buck shakes his head.

“Please just get me up.”

“Right,” Eddie croaks. “On three. One, two… three.”

With a massive effort, he hauled Buck to his feet.

Buck sags against him, breathless and wincing. “Please get me to the hospital,” he begs. “Fast. No grandpa driving. Ambulance driving.”

“Deal,” Eddie agrees, already moving toward the truck.

And, yeah, okay. He’d probably have to unpack some things later. But right now, getting Buck to the ER was priority number one. If he happened to spend the entire drive berating himself for letting his best friend break his arm because he was too busy staring at his stomach… 

Well. That was between him and his newly acknowledged sexuality.

Hospital waiting rooms are miserable. The too bright fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow on the linoleum floors, and the air is thick with the stale scent of disinfectant and something vaguely medicinal. But what really makes them unbearable is sitting next to your best friend, who is very clearly in pain, and knowing that, at least in part… it’s your fault.

Buck shifts in his seat for what must be the hundredth time, his jaw clenched, his arm cradled tightly against his chest. He’s been getting more irritable with every passing minute, his patience thinning like ice on a warm day.

Understandable, really.

They’ve been here for hours, waiting for a doctor to confirm what they already know: Buck’s arm is broken.

Eddie sighs, long and heavy, and instantly regrets it when Buck’s head snaps up, eyes sharp with irritation.

“Sorry, is my broken arm an inconvenience to you?” Buck deadpans, glaring, and oops, okay. That one’s on him.

Eddie huffs out something that’s meant to be a laugh but lands closer to a wince. Maybe he should do something, say something to keep Buck entertained. 

That’s usually Buck’s job, keeping things light, turning dull moments into something fun. Maybe, for once, it’s Eddie’s turn to return the favour.

He leans in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Wanna give the other patients backstories?” He lifts an eyebrow at Buck, waiting, and when Buck tilts his head, looking mildly intrigued despite himself, Eddie takes that as a win.

“Alright,” Eddie whispers, shifting in his seat so their heads are a little closer together, “woman and kid by the vending machine. You see them?”

Buck follows Eddie’s gaze and nods, pulling his injured arm in a little tighter. “Yeah.”

“She’s an outlaw,” Eddie says, keeping his voice low and serious, “on the run for a bank robbery.”

Buck snorts. “And she brought her kid along?”

“That ain’t no kid,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “That’s really good makeup. He’s her getaway driver.”

For a beat, Buck just blinks at him. Then, finally, he laughs, a small, breathy chuckle that quickly turns into something more. 

The tension in Eddie’s chest eases a little.

Score one for him.

“Okay,” Buck rolls his eyes but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “See that woman? Head between her knees, ugly shoes?”

Eddie scans the room, finding her easily. Miserable expression, slumped posture, and, Buck’s not wrong, some of the ugliest shoes he’s ever seen. 

He hums in acknowledgment.

“She’s a black widow,” Buck says, lowering his voice dramatically. “Just pretending to be sick. She comes here to meet her next victim… dressed down, innocent looking, more approachable. But once she gets you in her grasp…” Buck makes an ominous gesture with his good hand, eyes wide and serious. “Count your days, pal. You’re a goner.”

Eddie loses it. A full body laugh punches out of him, big and unrestrained, and he grins when Buck’s smile stretches wider despite the obvious discomfort he’s in.

“Okay, okay, my turn…” Eddie bites his lip and scans the waiting room, hyper aware of Buck watching him. He lets the moment linger, just long enough to keep Buck waiting, and then he leans in, dropping his voice even lower. “Big guy in the blue Star Trek shirt.”

Buck immediately flicks his gaze across the room, locking onto the man in question. “Got him.”

Eddie smirks. “Something’s stuck in his ass. He’s been shuffling in his seat since we got here.”

Buck claps a hand over his mouth, but it does nothing to stifle the cackle that bursts out of him. “Oh my God,” he wheezes between laughter, eyes shining with genuine amusement. “I didn’t want to say it, but I noticed that too.”

Eddie grins, caught up in the sound of Buck’s laughter, the way it lifts the heaviness of the room, how easily they fall into this kind of rhythm together. For a few minutes, it’s just them, leaning in close, trading grins and quiet jokes, caught up in their own little world.

“Excuse me.”

Eddie’s stomach drops, and his eyes snap up just in time to see Ugly Shoes standing right next to Buck’s chair.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” she asks.

Buck goes completely still.

Eddie has to duck his head against Buck’s good arm to keep from laughing outright.

“Uh… no, sorry,” Buck stammers, his voice a little too high, a little too forced.

“Okay. Thanks anyway.”

Eddie keeps his face pressed against Buck’s arm, trying and failing, to suppress his snickers. “You totally know where the bathroom is,” he whispers.

“Black widow, Eddie,” Buck whispers back, eyes wide.

Eddie lifts his head just enough to grin at him. “You’re her next victim.”

“I—” Buck starts, but before he can finish, a voice calls out from across the room.

“Evan Buckley.”

Buck visibly sags in relief.

“Thank God,” he mutters, pushing himself to his feet as carefully as possible.

Eddie stands too, still grinning as he claps a steadying hand on Buck’s back. “You got lucky,” he murmurs, and Buck huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as they make their way toward the nurse.

Eddie’s still smiling when they walk through the doors.

Buck’s arm is fucked.

The X-ray confirmed the break, but the doctor had been vague about the specifics beyond the essentials; he’d need surgery to repair the ligaments, and they’d have to insert metal plates, screws, or pins to stabilise everything. They hadn’t really clarified which, Buck had been too out of it to ask, nodding along as if it all made perfect sense. Eddie had just stood there, arms crossed, feeling useless.

The real problem, though, was the swelling. It is too severe for them to operate right away. So they’ve cast his arm, tucked it into a sling, and admitted him to the hospital, partly to monitor him, but mostly, Eddie suspects, because they don’t trust Buck to sit still otherwise. They want to make sure he actually keeps it elevated, doesn’t do anything reckless. 

And honestly, fair enough.

Which leaves Eddie standing by his bedside at four in the goddamn morning, watching Buck shift restlessly in the hospital bed, looking thoroughly miserable in a gown that’s a little to small. The fluorescent lighting washes him out, making the exhaustion under his eyes more obvious, the furrow in his brow deeper.

Eddie sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He doesn’t want to leave him like this, but the nurses have already made it clear that visiting hours are technically over at 8pm, and Eddie can’t return until 8am. 

He exhales slowly, softening his voice. “I’ll come by in the afternoon,” he says. “And I’m sure everyone else will be visiting soon, too.”

Buck lets his head tip back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling for a beat before shaking his head. “It’s almost Christmas,” he mutters. “I can’t expect people to keep coming to see me while I just… sit around.” His voice goes quiet at the end. Then his gaze flicks to Eddie, something weighted in the way he looks at him. “You don’t have to come see me, either.”

Eddie just stares at him, unimpressed. 

The thing about Buck is, he gets in his own head too much. Thinks he’s a burden when he isn’t, pushes people away before they can decide to leave. It’s a habit Eddie wishes he could break for him.

Maybe the way he’s looking at Buck now, flat and unwavering, is enough to make his point. Because of course he’s going to come back. There’s no world where he wouldn’t. Even if he weren’t feeling guilty about the whole thing (which he is, no matter how many times Buck insists it wasn’t his fault), Buck is his best friend. His favourite person.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Stop being a martyr,” he says, shaking his head. “I like being with you.”

There’s a shifts in Buck’s expression, subtle, but unmistakable. A flicker of something unguarded. His eyes soften, turn glassy in the dim light, and for a second, Eddie forgets what he was even saying.

Then Buck exhales, small and quiet. “Okay,” he says simply.

Eddie lets out a breath of his own, then smirks, reaching for something lighter. “Gotta clean up your sick off Chris’ floor first, though.”

Buck groans, dragging his goodhand over his face. “Shit. Yeah, sorry.” Then, as if it’s just occurred to him, his mouth quirks into a grin. “You sort of deserve it, though. For letting go of the ladder.”

Eddie huffs out a short laugh, shaking his head. 

No argument there.

The first time Eddie visits, he stops at the store first, grabbing the essentials, not the practical ones, the ones Buck actually needs, because Maddie has already taken care of that. She’s already been by, made sure Buck had his iPad, books, a pack of cards and really just things to keep him occupied.

Eddie’s version of essentials is different. Broader. Maybe even a little ridiculous. But that’s kind of the point.

When he gets to the hospital, he catches Bobby and Athena on their way out, the two of them standing by the door of Buck’s room. 

Athena spots him first, a knowing glint in her eye as he approaches.

“Hey,” he says, clapping Bobby on the back and receiving a quick peck on the cheek from Athena.

“You two have been getting up to trouble again, huh?” Athena raises an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twitching with something close to amusement.

“I told you it was an accident,” Buck calls from the bed, exasperated.

Eddie finally looks at him properly. Buck is sitting up, looking a little more alert than he had the night before, the dull edge of pain medication still softening his expression. But his eyes are bright, warmer now, more relaxed than Eddie had expected.

And he’s looking right at him.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks.

“Okay,” Buck sighs. “Bored.”

“Should we take offence to that?” Athena teases, turning to Bobby, who chuckles.

“Not when it’s Eddie that’s taking over,” Bobby shakes his head knowingly.

Athena hums, giving Eddie a look before she turns back to Buck. “We’ll have fun, boys,” she says, then steps forward to Bucks bed and presses a kiss to his cheek. Her voice softens, gentles into something only meant for him. “No funny business. Keep this arm up so you can be home for Christmas. Understand?”

“I will,” Buck promises. “Thank you for coming.”

“Good.” Athena nods, then fixes Eddie with a pointed look, a perfectly arched brow lifting. “You keep him out of trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie nods instinctively.

Bobby pats Buck’s shoulder next, but it lingers. “See you tomorrow, kid.”

“You don’t—” Buck starts, but Bobby doesn’t let him finish.

“Enough of that,” Bobby says with a roll of his eyes. “Rest up, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Buck’s face does something complicated at that, but he doesn’t argue. 

Just nods and watches them go.

Once the Grant-Nashes are gone, Eddie pulls the chair closer to Buck’s bed, settling in like he plans to be here for a while. “How are you really feeling?” he asks, softer this time.

Buck exhales, rubbing at his face with his good hand. “Honestly? The pain stuff is great. Just hate sitting around.”

Eddie smirks. “Well, good thing I brought some distractions.” He nudges the bag with his foot, and Buck immediately perks up, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“What’d you bring?” Buck asks, peering at the bag like he might be able to see through it.

Eddie grins. “Essentials.”

Buck squints at him. “Well…?”

“So impatient,” Eddie huffs. “Can’t even wait a minute.”

“Told you I’m bored,” Buck reminds him. “Come on, what’d you bring?”

Eddie pulls the bag into his lap, reaching inside. “First,” he says, pulling out a bundle of carrots.

Buck stares at them, brow furrowing. “Carrots?”

“The food here is like mush. Thought you might want a little snap,” Eddie says with a shrug and click of his fingers. 

Buck snorts. “Think I’ve had enough snap for one day.”

Oh.

Eddie’s stomach turns at the reminder. Because yeah, that’s actually what happened… Buck’s bone snapped. The memory of it, the sound of pain, the way Buck had gone white with pain, makes something cold slither up Eddie’s spine.

“Right,” he says quickly, laughing a little too awkwardly as he reaches into the bag for the next item.

Buck grins when he sees it. “A blanket?”

“Not just any blanket,” Eddie corrects, standing up and placing the bag on his chair, so he can stretch it out fully. “A Christmas blanket.”

It’s soft and colourful, decorated with candy canes, little elves, and bright green trees. It’s probably meant for a kid, but Buck’s a big kid at heart, so Eddie figures it works.

Buck beams, reaching out with his good arm in a clear gimme motion. Eddie hands it over, watching as Buck immediately brings it to his cheek, rubbing the soft material against his skin with a pleased sigh.

“Oh, it’s soft,” Buck murmurs, eyes closing briefly. Then, softer, “Thank you.”

Eddie watches him for a beat, something warm settling in his chest. “I’m not done yet,” he says, pulling out the next item.

Buck’s eyes go wide. “A… cactus?” He says a little confused.  

Eddie shrugs. “I wanted to get a little tree, but they didn’t have any, so…” He places it on the table at the foot of Buck’s bed. It’s small, tucked into a ceramic pot shaped like a llama wearing a tiny Santa hat. “Don’t really know what llamas have to do with Christmas, but, you know.” 

Buck snorts, eyeing it like he’s not sure what to make of it. “I think flowers are the norm.”

“This is homier,” Eddie insists.

“Homier,” Buck echoes, clearly amused.

“Anyway,” Eddie grins. “Last but not least…” He pulls out a bundle of small battery operated Christmas lights.

Buck gives him an incredulous look. “You brought lights.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie shrugs, flipping the switch to show him. Tiny Christmas trees glow warm and golden. “Figured it was fitting. Since, you know, you did this taking up those ugly strip lights.”

Buck shakes his head, but his lips are twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thank you,” Eddie deadpans. “You like them, right?” He hesitates, wondering if he should be joking about any of this yet, if it’s too soon.

But Buck doesn’t hesitate at all. His expression softens, warmth pooling in his eyes. “Of course, thank you,” he says simply. “Where are they going?”

Eddie tilts his head. “Figured we’d figure that out once I show you.”

To be fair, the hallway outside is lined with decorations, but the inside of the room is still drab, probably to keep things sterile, but still. 

It wouldn’t kill them to add some colour.

They end up taping the lights to the window. Eddie ‘steals’ some medical tape, which really just means he asks one of the older nurses nicely, and she rolls her eyes before slipping him a roll like it’s some kind of secret deal.

By the time they’re up, the room feels a little less sad, a little less empty. Buck is laughing, genuinely laughing, and Eddie thinks maybe he’s done a pretty good job.

They settle in after that, watching Elf on Bucks iPad. It’s Buck’s favourite Christmas movie, which, of course it is, he can quote by heart. He recites nearly every line, barely even paying attention to the screen.

And for the first time since everything happened, Eddie thinks Buck actually looks comfortable.

Which is all he really wanted in the first place.

“Please stop doing that,” Eddie says, exasperated, as Buck adjusts the bed for what has to be the hundredth time.

Hen, who is perched on the chair across from him, snorts. “Is it giving you motion sickness too?”

“It’s the noise,” Eddie grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. It’s the obnoxious whirr of the motor, the high pitched eek of the frame shifting. 

It’s relentless.

And Buck, absolute menace that he is, grins like an idiot and presses the button again, making the bed slowly flatten out with another long, grating eeeeeeeeek.

Eddie’s body tenses up on instinct, shoulders hitching as an involuntary shiver rolls down his spine. 

He clenches his jaw. Breathes through it. Tries to be the bigger person.

Buck, of course, notices and looks absolutely delighted.

“Jesus, it’s like nails on a chalkboard,” Eddie mutters, glaring at him.

Buck’s grin stretches even wider.

Hen smirks, watching the whole thing unfold. “You’ve been here all afternoon?” she asks Eddie.

He nods.

She gestures at Buck, who is still holding the remote like it’s his prized possession. “How do you put up with this?”

Eddie sighs. “He only just discovered the remote.”

“Weeee!” Buck drawls dramatically, pressing the button again so the bed slowly starts to sit up, as if he’s on the world’s slowest rollercoaster.

Hen barks out a laugh. “Ass.”

“I’m having all the fun I can get, Hen,” Buck says, grinning shamelessly. “This is what entertainment looks like for me now.”

Eddie watches him, unimpressed. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” Buck says, finally putting the remote down, “you’re still here.”

Hen hums, nodding. “Yeah, what does that say about you, Diaz?”

Eddie sighs, long and heavy. “No more, or I’m taking the remote.”

He pretends not to see Buck shove the remote under his thigh and pull his Christmas blanket over the top.

Once Hen is gone, Eddie returns from the bathroom, smugly holding up a handful of stolen medical gloves and permanent markers, his pockets suspiciously full.

Buck eyes him with interest. “What’d you do?”

“The nurses love me,” Eddie says casually, strolling back to his chair and dramatically dropping his loot onto Buck’s bed.

“Someone has to,” Buck mutters, reaching out to inspect the pile. His interest piques when he spots the telltale wrappers sticking out of Eddie’s pocket. “What else you got?”

“Gloves and pens,” Eddie says proudly, then, with a flourish, pulls out a handful of lollipops. “And you can have one… but just one. Don’t wanna ruin your dinner.”

“Ah yes,” Buck deadpans, nodding sagely. “Because two whole lollipops would totally ruin my delicious gourmet meal of mush and …carrots.” He gestures to the bunch still sat on the table. 

Eddie unwraps a lollipop and holds it out, grinning. “Open wide.”

“Fuck off,” Buck says automatically, but he still opens his mouth, letting Eddie plop the cola flavoured candy in.

It’s the only cola one in the bunch and Eddie had pocketed it specifically because he knows it’s Buck’s favourite. 

Not that he’ll say that out loud.

They settle into a comfortable silence after that, the soft sound of Christmas music playing from Buck’s iPad while they get to work decorating their blown up gloves. Lollipop sticks hang from their mouths as they concentrate, both deeply invested in their creations.

Buck is hyper focused, his brows drawn together as he tries to balance the glove on his lap, his broken arm still tucked close to his chest. The positioning is awkward, forcing him to draw with a strange, stiff posture, but he’s committed. 

Eddie has to admire the dedication.

After a while, Buck sighs dramatically. “Mine is terrible.”

“Speak for yourself,” Eddie says, holding up his glove with a flourish. “Mine is Louvre worthy. A masterpiece.”

Buck scoffs but finishes his last scribble before flipping his glove around to reveal his work, a wobbly smiley face with heart eyes and curly hair drawn onto the fingers. 

It’s objectively bad, but Buck has one functioning hand and is technically high on pain meds, so Eddie decides to be supportive.

“It’s good,” Eddie says.

“Don’t lie,” Buck laughs.

“I’m not,” Eddie insists, lollipop pressed to his cheek and shakes his head. “For someone high enough to float away, it’s pretty solid.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.”

Buck leans forward, eyes bright with curiosity. “Alright, let me see yours.”

Eddie holds his up proudly. He’s taken advantage of both sides of the glove and has transformed it into a reindeer, the thumb is colored red at the end for the nose, and the other fingers act as legs.

Buck grins. “He’s cute.” He says pulling his lollipop out and swishing his hand. 

“She,” Eddie corrects. “You told me Santas reindeer are girls.”

Buck immediately shakes his head, all too happy to prove Eddie wrong. “She doesn’t have antlers, so he’s a he.”

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

Buck smirks, clearly enjoying this. “Girl reindeer keep their antlers till the spring. That’s why Santa’s reindeer are all female. No antlers means he’s a dude.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Don’t use your fun facts to misgender my reindeer.”

“Facts are facts,” Buck says with a shrug and sticks his lollipop back in his mouth. “He’s a guy.”

“Her pronouns are she/her,” Eddie insists.

“You’re wrong,” Buck giggles, his pain medicated haze making him especially amused by this argument.

Eddie shakes his head, sighing heavily. “I don’t know why I even bother with you.”

Buck just grins, taking the lollipop out of his mouth again with a loud pop. “Because I’m your best friend and you love me.”

Eddie huffs, looking down at his glove reindeer. “Not when you misgender my art.”

Buck cackles, head tilting back against the pillow, and Eddie just watches him, his own smirk softening into something more genuine. Because yeah, Buck is insufferable. But he’s also here, laughing, not thinking about his arm or the pain or how much waiting around he has left.

And honestly, that’s worth the argument.

“How is it?” Eddie asks, nose scrunching as Buck pokes at the slop on his plate, some kind of stew that smells like old dishwater.

“Delicious,” Buck deadpans, dropping his fork with a clatter. “Highly recommend.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie grins. “I mean, it’s on a tray. It’s vaguely shaped like something edible.”

Buck glares at the food like it’s personally insulted him. “It has the consistency of a damp sponge.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “You eat damp sponges often?”

“I suspect this is a damp sponge.”

Eddie snorts. “Jello should be safe. Eat that, and I’ll go buy you something from the cafeteria.”

Buck frowns like Eddie just suggested he eat gravel.

“You also have your carrots,” Eddie sing songs.

Buck sighs dramatically. “I hate it here.” He wrestles with the Jello cup for a moment before sighing again, this time even more emotionally, and throwing it onto the tray with an exaggerated slump. “Can’t do it,” he mutters, full on pouting now.

Eddie watches him for a second, something soft tugging at his chest. Buck is tired. Not just physically, though, yeah, he’s been through a lot in the last couple of days, but in that way little kids get after a long day at the park, all big energy until they crash all at once. He’s been on strong pain meds, hasn’t napped, and is clearly hitting a wall.

Eddie leans forward and peels the foil lid off the Jello for him, grabbing the spoon and handing it over. Buck takes it like Eddie just did him the biggest favour in the world.

“You’re the best,” Buck sighs, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Love you.”

Eddie’s breath catches. It’s not the first time Buck has said it, Buck loves freely, without hesitation, but something about it feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the casual sincerity of it, the way it slips out so easily, so true. Or maybe it’s the way Eddie’s face feels suddenly too warm, the way his heart beats a little faster.

He likes when Buck tells him he loves him.

And maybe that’s a problem.

Because this isn’t just about noticing Buck. It’s not just about coming to terms with his sexuality, about finally letting himself see how attractive his best friend is. 

No, this is something else entirely.

Eddie doesn’t notice anyone the way he notices Buck.

The way he knows everything there is to know about him, stores every little detail away like a treasure to keep.

The way Buck is always on his mind, beyond thoughts, beyond reason.

Shit.

“How’s the Jello?” Eddie asks, voice coming out a little strained.

Buck rolls his eyes. “It’s Jello.”

“A little less attitude,” Eddie teases.

“Oh, sorry,” Buck laughs, swallowing another spoonful. “Ah yes, this Jello is fantastic, it has notes of despair and sadness.”

Eddie snorts. “Buck.”

“It’s fine. Hand me a carrot,” Buck says, pointing with his spoon.

Eddie holds back a smirk. “Eddie, please pass me a carrot,” he corrects.

Buck sighs dramatically. “Eddie, pretty PLEASE, give me the only edible thing in this room.”

You could eat me, Eddie thinks, and what the fuck, where did that come from?

He shoves the thought down, handing Buck the carrots, and watches as Buck takes a bite, crunching happily. His face lights up like he’s just bitten into the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“I do love carrots,” Buck grins.

Eddie watches him, too much warring in his head. And then it hits him.

Oh.

Oh my god.

I love him.

Holy shit.

“I’m just gonna go find you something else to eat,” Eddie blurts, standing up a little too quickly.

Buck frowns. “It’s okay, carrots are good.”

“No, you’re on a lot of medication. You should eat,” Eddie says, nodding too much, like that’ll make it sound more normal. He turns to the door. “I’ll find you something.”

Buck just watches him, smiling softly. “Okay. Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie practically flees.

Because what the fuck.

He’s in love with Buck. 

Because of a carrot.

Fucking hell.

Of course he loves Buck. Duh. How has he not realised this sooner? When he finally let himself accept this part of himself, when he stopped pushing it down and making excuses, the Buck of it all should have been obvious.

He’s been in love with him. 

For years.

And it’s so clear now as he walks through the hospital, his mind racing.

Every moment. Every time he put Buck above everything else, made him his priority even in relationships that were supposed to come first. Putting him in his will. Feeling like the world had stopped turning when Buck’s heart had stopped.

It was always Buck.

It takes him a little longer than necessary to return, but when he finally gets back, sandwich and cookie in hand, Buck is already fast asleep. His face is soft, mouth parted slightly, a tiny snore slipping out.

Eddie puts the food down quietly and hesitates before leaning over him, brushing his fingers down Buck’s cheek.

Buck stirs a little, nose scrunching before he settles again.

Eddie barely has a second to take in the weight of it before a voice cuts through the moment.

“Visiting hours are over.”

He jumps, turning to see a nurse standing in the doorway, watching him with an amused look.

“Okay,” he nods, voice a little too high.

She smirks and walks away.

Eddie lets out a slow breath. Buck should sleep, he needs to sleep, but Eddie doesn’t want him to wake up to cold food and silence.

So he grabs a glove, blows it up, and ties it off, grabbing a pen to write a note on the round belly of it.

Eat something please.
I’ll see you tomorrow, sleep well :)

He perches the glove next to the sandwich and gives Buck one last look.

One thing Eddie can give himself, is that he has fantastic taste.

Because Buck?

Buck is really something.

A man.

Which, yeah, obviously, but up until now, it’s been more objective. Buck is a man, a sturdy, smart, funny, incredibly attractive man. A man he knows, down to his bones, is reliable and kind and loving.

And Eddie can see it so clearly now.

Them.

Holding his hand. Kissing him softly. Buck wrapped up in his arms at night, warm and safe.

And the wildest part? That’s all that would change, other than that not much else would. 

They’ve already been more than partners, more than friends. They’ve lived in each other’s pockets for years.

He lets out a long, slow breath.

He has so much to think about.

Eddie wakes from a restless sleep, the kind where his body feels heavier than it should, like exhaustion has settled into his bones instead of letting him actually rest. He scrubs a hand over his face, sighs, and grabs his phone from the nightstand. 

His fingers hover over his messages for a second before he types out a quick text to Bobby. 

Eddie:
Is there any way you can make Buck some food he’ll actually like?

The reply comes almost immediately. 

Bobby:
Of course. 👍

A very Bobby response. Straight to the point, no hesitation. 

Of course, he can cook for Buck. 

Of course, Eddie will take care of things and make sure Buck gets what he needs. 

There’s something comforting in that, in how obvious it is that Eddie will sort things out for Buck, the way he knows Buck would do for him.

He tucks his phone away and gets to work finishing up Christopher’s room. He’d obviously planned to do it with Buck, but that was before the broken arm, before the hospital stay, before everything that’s got Eddie’s thoughts running in circles lately.

the last thing to do is to lay the new rug down, smoothing it out with his foot before stepping back to take in the whole room.

And that’s when it really hits him, how much love has been poured into every inch of this space. 

Not just his own, but Buck’s love too.

It’s in the little things.

The Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse posters Buck found online, because Chris is still obsessed with that movie, even years later. They’re not just standard posters either, Buck tracked down an old school, comic style print set and framed them because, in his words, “art deserves respect, Eddie.”

The throw pillow of Baymax, because no matter how big Christopher gets, Big Hero 6 is still one of his comfort movies.

The fuzzy green blanket at the foot of the bed, the one that they spent forty minutes in the store deciding on, touching every one and holding them all up against a picture of the sheets they’d bought together too. It’ll inevitably migrate, finding a permanent home wherever Chris drags it, but for now, it rests there like a promise of comfort.

The shelves are lined with pictures of family and friends, so many of them featuring Buck. Shots of the three of them together, caught mid laugh or in the middle of something simple and everyday, something undeniably theirs.

A family.

That’s what they are.

Eddie doesn’t know exactly when Buck became a parental figure in Christopher’s life. 

It’s not like there was some big, defining moment, it just happened. Maybe it was around the time Eddie added Buck to his will, when he officially put it in writing, but if he’s honest, it was probably long before that. Maybe for Christopher, it was the moment he and Buck survived the tsunami and Buck proved, without words, without hesitation, that he would die trying to keep him safe. Maybe it wasn’t something Chris ever had to think about, because kids just know where they’re safe.

They know who will always be there.

Buck isn’t just in this newly decorated room. He’s everywhere in this house.

He’s in the kitchen, making cupcakes with Chris after a hard doctor’s appointment, his hands covered in flour and his face set with that determined I will cheer this kid up or die trying expression.

He’s on the couch, watching movies that Chris has made them watch a hundred times already, quoting the lines like it’s the first time he’s ever heard them.

He’s in the bathroom, holding Eddie up in the shower after he was shot, steady hands and quiet reassurances keeping him from falling apart.

He’s in the backyard, barefoot in the grass, sunbathing like an idiot, flipping burgers with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other, grinning like life is just that easy.

He’s in Eddie’s bed.

In his dreams.

Eddie swallows hard, dragging a hand down his face.

This place is as much Buck’s home as it is theirs.

And that thought? The way it settles in his chest, deep and immovable?

That’s something he can’t ignore anymore.

Eddie’s got the afternoon visit again. Maddie had taken the morning, then left for work, handing off Jee-Yun to Chimney. Bobby must have arrived at some point, too, because when Eddie steps into Buck’s hospital room, he’s greeted by the sound of laughter, bright and easy, the kind that makes something deep in his chest feel as ease.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Chimney grins, then eyes the bag in Eddie’s hand. “Carrots?”

“Eddie thinks I need an abundance of carrots for this stay, apparently,” Buck grins, his expression a little too fond, a little too warm, Jee tucked snugly under his good arm.

Eddie’s breath catches for a second before he schools his face into something neutral. “Carrots contain calcium and vitamin K, which are important for bone health,” he says, and he hears the daze in his own voice. It’s something he’s repeated to Christopher a million times over the years so he adds, “and they help you see in the dark.” 

Buck’s smile deepens, tilting toward something teasing, something private.

“Well, sorry all I brought you was your niece,” Chimney snorts.

“I brought pasta and meatballs,” Bobby announces, his voice touched with pride.

“Which is why you’re my favourite, Bobby.” Buck tells him sincerely.

Eddie clears his throat, shakes off the warmth threatening to creep up his neck. “How are you feeling?” he asks, grounding himself in something simple.

Buck considers for a moment. “Pain level? A solid six. But emotionally?” He pauses, smirking. “A fifteen.”

Eddie whistles. “Better get you something stronger than these,” he says, lifting the bag of carrots for emphasis.

Buck laughs, the sound easy and genuine. “Put the damn carrots down, Eddie.”

They settle into the rhythm of the visit, conversation flowing in that familiar way, comfortable and unforced. Eventually, Bobby and Chimney get up to leave, with Chimney throwing out a casual, “See you later, Captain Hook.”

Buck frowns. “He had one hand, not a broken arm.”

“Whatever.” Chimney rolls his eyes. “Guess that makes you Smee,” he says, jerking his chin toward Eddie.

“My right hand man,” Buck beams, bright and affectionate.

“It’s your left arm, though,” Eddie points out, but there’s no bite to it, just amusement.

Buck rolls his eyes. “Fine. My left arm man.”

It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. 

But it does.

Once they’re alone, Buck perks up. “So, what are we doing today, Monkey?”

Eddie snorts. “I just realised you can’t clap anymore.”

Buck gasps, feigning offense. “Are you bullying me? As I lie here in my hospital bed?”

“No,” Eddie says innocently, before grabbing a carrot and poking him with it.

Buck laughs, squirming. “Eddie. Stop.”

“No.”

“At least give me one so I can defend myself.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but passes Buck a carrot, and somehow, that’s how they end up in a full on carrot sword fight. It’s ridiculous, really. Juvenile. But it feels good, good in the way that being with Buck always does, like something easy and right settling into place.

“You’re no match for me,” Buck crows, swinging his carrot dramatically.

“Pfft. You have one arm.”

“Only fair you put one behind your back then,” Buck challenges, grinning.

Eddie’s about to fire back when the door swings open, and he drops to the floor, hidden by the hospital bed in a way that would be pathetic if he had any shame left when it came to Buck. 

Which… he doesn’t.

“Mr. Buckley,” the nurse says, then pauses. “Oh.”

Buck, still sitting there, carrot mid air, laughs awkwardly. Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle a snort.

“Hey,” Buck says, dropping the carrot to his side like he’s been caught doing something illegal. “You come here often?”

What.

The nurse blinks. “I work here.”

Buck clears his throat. “Right. Can I help you?”

“Just here to check your observations.”

“Okay,” Buck says, resigned.

Eddie barely has time to react before the nurse moves around the bed, and he pretends, poorly, to be collecting the carrot from the floor.

“Buck, you really need to stop with the carrots,” Eddie deadpans, holding up the offending vegetable. “They’re everywhere.”

Buck’s mouth drops open, betrayal written all over his face.

“Hi,” Eddie nods at the nurse, then scurries to the chair, feigning innocence.

“I didn’t-“ Buck starts, then sighs and gives up, extending his arm for the nurse to check his vitals.

The room fills with the steady beep, beep, beep of Buck’s heart monitor, an unassuming sound, something normal, but Eddie’s stomach clenches anyway.

It’s nice. That soft, steady rhythm. A reminder.

That Buck is still breathing. Still here.

Obviously, this hadn’t been life threatening, but after everything, after the last time Buck had been in a hospital bed for more than a few hours, Eddie swallows. The last time, when Buck had been struck by lightning and the beep, beep, beep had been silent for three minutes and seventeen seconds and Eddie didn’t know if he’d have to live the rest of his life missing his best friend. 

Eddie sighs and lets his eyes slip shut, lets the sound wash over him.

The nurse leaves, throwing them an amused smile and promising to be back in a minute with Buck’s medication, Eddie cracks a grin.

“She thinks you’re insane,” he informs Buck.

Buck frowns. “Because you blamed me.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, then shrugs. “But also, you know, I’m not.”

Buck glares at him, but it’s playful, fond. They settle into a comfortable silence, the only sound filling the room the steady, reassuring beep, beep, beep of Buck’s heart monitor.

“You have a nice heartbeat,” Eddie says absently.

Buck inhales sharply, and Eddie watches, fascinated, trapped, as the monitor picks up, the beep, beep, beep speeding up in real time.

They stare at each other, and the air shifts. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. Not the first time Eddie has felt something more, something unnamed, coil tight between them.

Does Buck feel the same way?

Probably.

Buck has always been the first to know most things between them. When Eddie needs space, when Eddie wasn’t ready to talk about something, when Eddie needs help.  

There’s something so soft in Buck’s blue eyes, something warm and steady, something that has always been just for Eddie.

“Thanks,” Buck whispers.

Eddie exhales, barely realising he was holding his breath. “You’re welcome,” he whispers back.

And maybe that’s all they need for now.

Buck wants to leave the room. Wants to stretch his legs, get coffee, breathe air that doesn’t smell like antiseptic. 

Eddie gets it, he does, but still… he worries they won’t be allowed.  

“Please,” Buck says, voice dipping into something just shy of pitiful.

Eddie sighs. Buck is good at this, too good, the combination of big blue eyes and relentless determination somehow making every ridiculous idea seem plausible.

“We’ll get in trouble,” Eddie warns, shaking his head.

“No, we won’t,” Buck argues, already lining up his next attack. He bats his lashes, obnoxiously, like some cartoon character trying to charm their way out of a parking ticket. “Just ask. If they say no, I won’t ask again. Please?”

Eddie exhales, long and suffering. He knows that’s a lie. If Buck gets turned down, he will absolutely find a new angle of attack. Eddie’s already tired. 

It’s just easier to say yes.

“Fine.”

Buck lights up like a Christmas tree. 

God help him.

Eddie goes in search of Gloria, the lollipop nurse, because she’ll be the easiest to butter up.

Not that he has to apparently, she’s weirdly on board with this whole thing. Says it’ll be good for Buck to move around. “But he has to use a wheelchair,” she adds.

Eddie blinks. “Why? His legs are fine?”

She shrugs like it’s just the law of the universe. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Right. Of course.” He nods, accepting that bureaucracy and logic rarely go hand in hand.

She retrieves a wheelchair from behind the desk and slides it toward him like a dealer handing off contraband. “Don’t be too long. He’s due for more meds in an hour.”

“Cross my heart,” Eddie promises, even as he’s already considering the likelihood of breaking that promise.

He wheels the chair back to Buck’s room, where Buck eyes it like it’s a personal insult.

“Really?” Buck says, frowning, looking like a kid who just got grounded.

“Wheelchair or no going out,” Eddie says with a shrug, making it very clear this is not up for debate.

Buck huffs and sighs dramatically. “Fine.”

Eddie grins. “I’ll help you do wheelies.”

That gets a spark of interest, at least. Eddie helps him into a zip up hoodie, carefully draping it over the shoulder of his bad arm, and then they’re off, two idiots in search of adventure, armed with nothing but sheer determination and an aggressively squeaky hospital wheelchair.

God help whoever gets in their way.

“You should just break me out,” Buck sighs dramatically as they wait for the elevator. He slumps further into the wheelchair, looking up at Eddie with the kind of longing usually reserved for tragic movie heroes. “Take me home.”

Eddie exhales, shaking his head as he pushes the call button. “You know I would, but I can’t.”

The doors slide open and Eddie wheels him inside, clicking the button for the ground floor.

“A real friend would take me home,” Buck tries again, tipping his head back against the chair to look up at Eddie, his blue eyes wide and imploring.

Eddie snorts. “No, a real friend would push you around and then take you back to your room…make sure you get the correct medical care.” He plants a firm hand on Buck’s forehead, pushing it forward like he’s resetting a bobblehead.

Except.

Except Buck doesn’t just let him do it, he leans into it, his body softening beneath Eddie’s touch like it’s instinct, like he wants it. His breath catches and suddenly, Eddie’s fingers are tangled in soft, too familiar hair.

For a second, he forgets himself just watching the way Buck melts against his hand.  

And then the elevator doors open.

Shit.

He jerks his hand back like he’s been burned.

An older couple steps inside, nodding at them politely.

The woman squints at Buck over the rim of her glasses. “Oh dear,” she clucks. “What did you do, sweetheart?”

“Slipped on a chicken breast,” Buck replies immediately, no hesitation, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “It was just there, on the floor in the supermarket. Didn’t see it.”

The woman gasps, her hand fluttering over her chest like she’s about to write a stern letter to corporate. “Oh, honey, that’s a lawsuit right there.”

Eddie looks away and bites down hard on his lip, but a laugh still tries to claw its way out of his throat.

“Right?” Buck sighs, shaking his head like the whole world has let him down.

The woman tuts sympathetically, then smiles at Eddie. “At least you’ve got your boyfriend to take care of you.”

Eddie brain glitches, error message flashing in realtime.

Boyfriend.

His body reacts like someone just struck a match inside him, heat flaring up his neck, sucking all the oxygen out of the tiny metal box they’re standing in. He opens his mouth to correct her, Oh, no, we’re just friends, definitely just friends, haha. 

But Buck beats him to it.

“Yeah, he’s the best.” Buck nods, then turns his head, that shit eating grin in full force, “Right, baby?” Eddie doesn’t even have time to process that before Buck casually adds, “He’s taking me to get coffee.”

“So sweet,” the woman coos.

Eddie is going to die in this elevator.

The doors open, spitting them out into the lobby. The older man claps Eddie on the shoulder as he walks past and then looks at Buck, “You get yourself a good lawyer, son.”

“I hope you feel better,” the woman tells Buck kindly before stepping off.

Buck smiles at her like he’s never been the source of anyone’s suffering in his entire life. “Thank you.”

Eddie waits until they’re clear before bending down, voice low in Buck’s ear. “A chicken breast?”

He doesn’t miss the way Buck shivers.

Has he always reacted this way to Eddie? Or is he just noticing now because he wants to see it?

“Falling off a ladder is boring,” Buck says innocently, but Eddie can see the corners of his mouth twitch.

“So is being just friends, huh?” Eddie asks, raising a brow.

Buck sputters, his ears are suspiciously red, giving him away. “It’d be awkward to correct her,” he mumbles.

Eddie grins, tilting his head. “Would it?”

He watches as Buck flounders for a response, eyes darting anywhere but at him.

Huh.

Interesting.

“Just push me, Diaz.”

Eddie pushes Buck around the hospital in a bit of exploratory mischief, the wheelchair a perfect excuse to act like a menace under the guise of helping. 

He’s not sure who suggested it first, probably Buck, with that infuriatingly innocent grin of his, but the moment Buck made some offhand comment about Eddie being his chauffeur, Eddie took that as a challenge.

At first, he sticks to the main halls, weaving Buck through clusters of nurses and visitors with a level of precision that only comes from years of pushing gurneys around. 

“You’re so slow,” Buck yawns.

And, well, Eddie has never backed down from a challenge in his life.

So he veers them down a quieter back corridor, one of those sterile, too bright hospital hallways that look like they were made for secret government experiments or late night horror movie chases.

The moment they hit smooth, uninterrupted linoleum, Eddie picks up speed.

“Jesus, Eddie-” Buck yelps, clutching the armrests as Eddie breaks into a full sprint, the wheels rattling against the floor, the air rushing past them.

“Not slow now huh?” Eddie laughs.  

“Woah.” 

“Hang on, your majesty,” Eddie grins, leaning into the turn as they whip around a corner.

Buck lets out something between a gasp and a laugh, gripping the sides of the chair the best he can with one hand. “You’re a lunatic. I’m injured!”

“You’re always injured,” Eddie counters, because it’s true, but also because he’s too caught up in the thrill of it, the feeling of Buck’s laughter vibrating in the small space between them, the way Buck trusts him enough to let himself be pushed at near breakneck speed.

Somewhere along the way, Buck starts playing along, leaning into the turns, hooting loud enough to make Eddie glance over his shoulder to check for disapproving nurses. 

They are absolutely, 100% going to get yelled at for this.

It only ends when Eddie spots a nurse at the far end of the hall, her arms crossed, eyes narrowed in that universal you should know better way. Eddie skids to a halt, wheels screeching slightly, and throws on his best I’m a responsible adult face.

Buck, breathless, wide eyed, and grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, turns to look at Eddie and whispers, “Worth it.”

And damn it, yeah, it was.

By the time they make it to the cafeteria, Eddie’s still riding the high, but it settles into something softer, something golden and easy, as they sit across from each other with coffee. 

Buck is still a little breathless from laughing, his hair slightly mussed from the wind of their reckless hallway sprint, and Eddie can’t help but think he’s never looked more like himself, unburdened, bright, the kind of happy Eddie would do anything to protect.

They talk in quietly, low and familiar, about Christopher coming home, about Christmas, about things they’ve already said a hundred times before but somehow never tire of. It’s easy like this, effortless in the way only they can be, like stepping into a conversation they never truly left. Buck’s words slot into Eddie’s before he even finishes a thought, and Eddie catches himself predicting Buck’s responses before they happen, not because he’s thinking about it but because it’s instinct now. 

Second nature.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it?

Eddie doesn’t just love Buck, he loves this, the way they fit together, the quiet rhythm of them. 

The way even a hospital cafeteria, with its bad coffee and fluorescent lights, feels a little warmer, a little more like home, just because Buck is across from him.

Buck is the one person in the world Eddie will always be reckless for. 

The only person who has ever happily taken the reckless version of him. 

Every other moment of his life has been built on responsibility, on being the stable one, the careful one, the protector, the provider. He’s spent years shaping himself into something solid for everyone else to lean on, but with Buck, it’s different. 

Buck never asks him to be anything but him.

Buck likes him however he comes; steady or wild, thoughtful or impulsive, serious or laughing breathlessly in the middle of a deserted hospital hallway. 

And Eddie cherishes that more than he has words for.

So he sits there, sipping bad coffee, listening to Buck talk about Christmas morning plans and feels it settle deep in his chest, warm and undeniable.

He loves Buck. 

He would risk everything for this.

Maybe he already has.

Gloria does not look happy when they arrive back, forty five minutes late. The only reason they’re even back at all is because Buck is in pain, likely from missing the dose of meds he was due forty five minutes ago.

“Get him to bed,” she tells Eddie with a disapproving shake of her head, already moving to check Buck’s chart.

“We’re not getting any more lollipops,” Eddie whispers conspiratorially as he helps Buck back into bed.

“You pissed off the candy nurse,” Buck sighs dramatically, shifting carefully as he settles in.

“I didn’t see you complaining on our third lap around the building,” Eddie snorts.

Buck grins, eyes bright with exhaustion but still full of mischief. “Yeah, well, I like a challenge.”

“You ever think about your will?”

Eddie turns his head toward Buck, who’s sitting up against his pillows, the soft glow of the tablet flickering over his face. Some Christmas movie is playing in the background, something cheesy and predictable, but neither of them has been paying much attention.

He hums, brow furrowing. “What?”

“Your will,” Buck repeats, his voice quieter this time, more careful. “You told me about it when you were in the hospital, just been thinking about it I guess since I’m in here… you never really mentioned it again.” Buck shifts slightly, eyes locked onto Eddie now, unwavering. “Like, did you even really think about it?”

Eddie blinks, confused. “Of course I did.”

Buck doesn’t look convinced. “That I become Christopher’s guardian if you… if-” He exhales sharply, dropping his gaze for a second. “You know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie watches him, taking in the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers fidget with the edge of his blanket. “And yes, Buck, I thought about it,” he says firmly. “A lot.”

Buck’s lips press together like he’s weighing his next words, like he’s still trying to make sense of it. “And you really thought that was the best idea?” he whispers.

Eddie sighs and stands up, moving to sit on the edge of Buck’s bed, close enough that their thighs are pressed together. “Of course,” he says softly. “There’s no one better for the job.” He holds Buck’s gaze, willing him to understand, to believe it.

He wishes Buck had brought this up sooner, not at 7:55pm when the nurses would be rounding up visitors to leave like prison wardens in five minutes. 

But maybe Buck needed this time, needed to feel ready to ask.

“But he’s with his grandparents now?” Buck points out, voice hesitant.

Eddie exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah. Not really my choice, though, Buck.” He swallows, fingers curling over his knee. “I didn’t like my home growing up, so why would I want that for my kid?”

Buck nods slightly. “Right.”

Eddie leans in, ducking just a little, making sure Buck is looking at him. “I was sure when I made my decision, and I’m even surer now.”

Buck’s fingers tighten around the blanket. “Why, though?”

Eddie shrugs. “Because of all the reasons I told you then. You’d fight for him. You’d care for him. You’d love him.” His voice softens, his heart tightening in his chest. “And because you’d miss me too. You’d grieve me like he would. I’d want you to have him, and I’d want him to have you.”

Buck snorts, though there’s no real humour in it. “Big headed.” He looks down at the ridiculous Christmas blanket covering his legs, pinching the fabric and rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb. “Maybe I wouldn’t grieve you at all.”

Eddie huffs out a quiet laugh. “Nah. You would.”

Buck lifts his head, smiling just a little. “You sound so sure.”

“I am sure,” Eddie murmurs, voice dropping lower. He swallows, his chest feeling too full with everything he’s never said, everything he’s always known. “I thought I lost you once.” He takes a breath, barely resisting the instinct to reach out and touch. “I wouldn’t want you to go through that on your own.” He hesitates, then lets himself be completely honest. “And you’re the only person I’d need to be by my kid’s side through it.”

The words settle between them, and Buck’s breath catches. His lips part slightly, eyes going wide and watery, something shifting in the way he looks at Eddie. 

Like he gets it now.

“Oh,” Buck breathes. A tear slips down his cheek, carving a path down his face. He lets out a wet, disbelieving laugh. “God, that was really sweet.”

Eddie exhales a quiet chuckle and without thinking, reaches forward to wipe the tear away with his thumb, his fingers lingering against Buck’s cheek, stroking his cheek softly.

Buck blinks at him, something warm and vulnerable in his expression.

Eddie leans in, giving him a second, giving him the chance to pull away, to hesitate, to tell him this isn’t what he wants.

But Buck doesn’t. He never does.

So Eddie closes his eyes and kisses him.

It’s soft, unhurried, a quiet thing that settles deep in his chest. Not rushed or desperate, but a little hesitant.

it feels right though. Like this is exactly where they were meant to land, right here, in the soft glow of the hospital room, in the warmth of Buck’s space, in the gravity of each other.

Buck’s lips are a little chapped, but they mold against his, warm and searching. The beard he’s been letting grow after a few days in the hospital is rough against Eddie’s top lip, a scratch of texture that sends something good curling low in his stomach. The feeling is something Eddie thinks he could get addicted to, the rasp of stubble, the heat of Buck’s mouth, the way it makes his breath catch.

Buck lets out a quiet, surprised exhale against him, like he wasn’t expecting Eddie to actually do it. Like it hadn’t fully hit him until now, until Eddie pressed their mouths together, slow and sure, careful of his arm but still close, closer.

Eddie tilts his head just slightly, just enough to deepen the kiss, to press a little more firmly, to let himself sink into the moment. He breathes in deep, like he’s been waiting for this for longer than he wants to admit, like he’s needed it, like he’s finally letting himself have it.

Buck kisses him back.

It’s gentle, but there’s something beneath it, something quiet but certain, something that tells Eddie he’s not the only one who wants this.

Eddie pulls away slowly, his lashes fluttering open as he lets out a steady breath.

Buck is looking at him like he’s something worth believing in.

Like he’s something Buck could get addicted to as well .

Like Eddie just gave him something he never thought he’d get to have.

And Eddie thinks, Yeah. This is it.

“I love you, Buck,” He whispers, the words slipping out like second nature, like they’ve always belonged in the space between them.

Buck smiles, wide and a little stunned, like he wasn’t expecting to hear it but maybe should’ve been. “Love you too,” he murmurs, just as soft, just as sure, like the words are something solid, something real, something he’s been holding onto for a long time.

And Eddie knows, without a doubt, without hesitation, that Buck means every single word.

The moment is warm, steady, something Eddie wants to stay wrapped up in forever.

“Sorry, boys, visiting hours are over,” a nurse calls from the doorway and the moment shatters at the edges.

Eddie clenches his jaw, inhaling sharply through his nose. He knew it was close, but shit. He didn’t want it to be now.

“Thanks,” he rasps out, his voice rough in his throat, thick with something he doesn’t want to name.

He can’t leave now.

But Buck, ever understanding, gives him a small, tired smile. “It’s okay,” he says, voice low and reassuring. “We’ll talk properly tomorrow.”

Eddie nods, but his eyes catch on the way Buck licks his lips, just a quick flick of his tongue, pink against the curve of his mouth. The same lips Eddie just kissed.

Holy fuck.

His heart stumbles in his chest, something deep and dizzying settling in his bones.

“I’m working,” Eddie whispers, almost like an apology, even though it shouldn’t be.

“Right.” Buck’s smile dims just slightly as he glances down at the ridiculous Christmas blanket still draped over his lap. “My surgery is tomorrow anyway.”

Eddie exhales slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah.” He swallows. “Friday?”

“Friday,” Buck echoes with a small nod, like he’s committing the word to memory, holding onto it like it means something more.

“Okay.”

It doesn’t feel like enough, not when he’s walking toward the door, not when he glances back to see Buck still watching him, eyes warm and heavy lidded.

And when Eddie finally steps out of the room, the weight of everything crashes over him all at once, elation and longing tangling together in a way that leaves him breathless.

He just kissed Buck. 

He told him he loved him.

And he’s leaving him here.

He feels both weightless and like the worst person in the world.

Eddie can’t sleep.

He keeps rolling around the bed like a restless piece of seaweed caught in the back and forth of the tide, tangled in the push and pull of something bigger than himself.

“Shit,” he whispers into the darkness, exhaling sharply. His mind won’t let go of the way Buck looked when he left, his face soft with exhaustion but a little unsure, like he wasn’t ready to let Eddie go just yet.

And Eddie had left anyway.

Why the hell did he do that? He should have stayed.

Broken the damn rules for him.

He should have said more, done more. Should have told Buck everything that’s clawing at his chest, the thoughts that won’t quiet now he knows. 

His mind catches up long after his body because before he even fully realises it, he’s moving, pulling on a pair of sweatpants, zipping up a hoodie, shoving his feet into his sneakers. 

He blinks, and suddenly he’s in his truck, the keys turning in the ignition like muscle memory.

It’s 3am. 

He should just let it go. 

He should wait until morning.

But he can’t.

The hospital is quieter than before but not silent, the hum of fluorescent lights and distant murmurs filling the empty space. His nerves coil tight in his stomach as he jogs toward the entrance, like he’s breaking some unspoken rule, like he’s not supposed to be here.

But screw it.

The elevator ride is slow, painfully so, and he taps his foot impatiently, his heart drumming out a steady, unrelenting rhythm against his ribs. He’s not even sure why he’s nervous, he’s already laid his cards on the table, and Buck did too. 

He knows he’s not alone in this.

But he needs to see him.

Needs to tell him he shouldn’t have left.

Once he reaches Buck’s floor, he glances left, then right, before darting down the hallway, moving quickly, like someone’s going to stop him. His pulse is a steady thrum in his ears as he slips into Buck’s room, his breath catching the second his eyes land on him.

Buck is asleep, his face relaxed in the dim glow of the streetlights filtering through the poorly drawn curtains. The steady rise and fall of his chest is hypnotic, grounding, real.

Eddie exhales, something deep in his chest settling at the sight.

He steps closer, his hand finding the warm skin of Buck’s neck. He squeezes gently, shaking him just enough to stir him awake.

“Buck,” he whispers. No response.

He tries again, a little louder this time. “Buck.”

Buck shifts, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Buck,” Eddie murmurs again, firmer now, and Buck’s eyes flutter open, blinking groggily up at him.

“Eddie?” His voice is thick with sleep, soft in a way that makes something in Eddie’s chest ache.

“Hi,” Eddie says, his voice lower than he means it to be.

Buck blinks again, then seems to process the situation. His eyes widen slightly. “Shit. Hi.” He breathes out heavily, his lips curving up in something close to a smile.

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “Sorry for waking you.”

Buck shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. “No, it’s okay. What are you doing here?”

Eddie takes a slow breath, then, because he has to, he says it. “You fell off the ladder because I was staring at your stomach.”

Buck blinks. “…What?”

Eddie huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head at himself. “Your shirt was, like, bunched up, and I literally lost my mind over seeing a sliver of your stomach.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “It wasn’t even a scandalous amount, Buck.”

Buck squints at him, confused but clearly amused. “Belly button?”

“Not even that high,” Eddie admits, shaking his head. He holds his hand up to demonstrate. “Like this much.”

Buck lets out a surprised laugh.

“I’m going to be out of work for months,” Buck groans dramatically, still grinning.

“I know.” Eddie sighs, regret pooling in his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

Buck shakes his head. “You know I was, like, being lazy, right? Trying to lean too far? It wasn’t your fault.”

“I wasn’t holding the ladder like I should have been,” Eddie argues, guilt still pressing heavy against his ribs.

Buck tilts his head, eyes warm. “That’s okay. I forgive you.” He snorts softly, like the whole thing is ridiculous.

Eddie exhales. “I told Chris, I’m gay.” He say shyly, “I think that’s the main reason he’s coming home actually, because I was really honest with him.”

Buck’s eyes widen slightly. “Shit. You never told me that.”

Eddie shrugs, glancing away for a second before meeting Buck’s gaze again. “I’m still working it out.” He swallows. “And then I realised that it isn’t just liking men that has me all caught up staring at you.”

Buck tilts his head, smirking slightly. “Oh, yeah?”

Eddie shakes his head, exasperated. “No. You ate a carrot and blew my mind.”

Buck frowns. “A carrot?”

Eddie laughs awkwardly. “Doesn’t really matter. The point is…” He hesitates for only a second before saying it again, because he needs Buck to know. “I mean it. I love you. Probably have for a while, actually.”

Buck’s expression softens, something misty settling in his eyes. “I love you too,” he murmurs, quiet but sure. “Probably have for a while.”

Eddie nods, laughing lightly. “Glad we cleared that up.”

Buck grins, bright even in the dim light. “Can we try this again when it’s not the dead of night and I can actually see you?”

“A third time?” Eddie laughs lightly, “How many love confessions do you want from me, Buck?”

“All of them,” Buck says simply, his voice softer now, almost reverent.

Eddie melts into the words, all of them. 

He can do that.

“Well, damn,” Eddie murmurs. “That was smooth.”

“Get used to it,” Buck shrugs, grinning. “So, tell me again and again. Okay?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Okay.”

“Good.” Buck says warmly. “Wanna get in bed with me?”

Eddie raises a brow. “What if we get caught?”

Buck smirks. “You already snuck in here. Might as well commit.” He shuffles over, making space and pats the mattress. “Come on. Live on the wild side with me.”

Eddie bites his lip nervously, “Okay.” He agrees softly. 

He toes off his shoes and carefully climbs onto the bed, settling on Buck’s good side. Buck immediately shifts into him, his bad arm resting carefully over Eddie’s chest, his head tucking against Eddie’s shoulder like a ship finally moored. 

Eddie breathes in, slow and steady, as Buck’s warmth seeps into him. He lets his hand drift over Buck’s back, fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns.

And then, without thinking, he leans down, presses a kiss into Buck’s hair, and rests his head against his.

He lets himself have this.

He could do this forever and he thinks Buck will let him.

Eddie wakes up with an ache in his neck, a cramp in his lower back, and the strange sensation that something very heavy is crushing his chest. His arm is completely numb, his body twisted at an unnatural angle, and… what the fuck, something is hovering directly in his face.

“Oh, oh, god!” he yells, jerking back instinctively.

Which turns out to be a terrible idea because Buck, who is apparently lying on top of him, immediately wakes up with a startled yell of his own, right in Eddie’s ear.

“What the hell, Eddie?” Buck shouts, flailing as he tries to sit up, only to groan when his arm gets yanked in the process.

Eddie is too busy gasping like he’s just survived an assassination attempt to respond, his heart hammering in his chest. 

He looks around wildly until his bleary gaze lands on Maddie, standing at the edge of the bed, phone in hand, arms raised in what he can only assume is a sign of surrender.

“Sorry! Sorry!” she says hurriedly. “I didn’t mean to… well, okay, I did mean to, but I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Buck, now half upright and rubbing his face like he’s trying to wake up from a fever dream, squints at her. “Mads?” His voice is thick with sleep. “What the hell?”

Maddie winces, shifting her weight like maybe she’s reevaluating some recent life choices. “I was just… taking a picture.”

There’s a beat of silence, filled only by Eddie trying to regain feeling in his arm and Buck blinking at her confused.

“…Why?” Buck asks.

Maddie, to her credit, does not look even remotely ashamed. “Because you two looked adorable. All cuddled up together,” she says, grinning. “I was gonna send it to the group chat.”

Eddie groans, dragging a hand down his face while Buck throws his head back in frustration. “Seriously, Maddie?” Buck says.

She shrugs, completely unfazed. “Well, Bobby wanted proof.”

Eddie’s brain, which is already struggling to boot up for the day, short circuits. “Bobby?” he echoes.

Maddie hums in confirmation, as if this is a completely normal situation and not the most horrifying thing Eddie has ever woken up to. “Yeah. I mean, it’s 9am, and well, Eddie was supposed to be at work at eight, so…”

For the second time in as many minutes, Eddie’s heart tries to make a desperate escape through his ribcage. His stomach plummets as his gaze whips to Buck, whose own expression mirrors his panic, eyes wide with dawning horror.

“Shit,” Eddie whispers, scrambling to get up, his feet kicking wildly for his shoes.

“Don’t worry,” Maddie says, all breezy and unbothered. “Bobby already called someone else in. He told me to tell you that you’ll be put down as sick.”

Eddie pauses mid-shoe-shove, staring at her. “Oh. Uh… okay.” He frowns. “He was just okay with me not showing up?”

Maddie gives him an unimpressed look, like he’s missing something obvious. “Well, everyone was a little worried you’d just disappeared off the face of the earth. But then I found you two” she gestures at them with an exaggerated wave of her hand—“all snuggled up,” she finishes with a dramatic coo, before reaching out and pinching Buck’s cheek.

Buck groans, slapping her hand away. “Maddie, stop.”

But Maddie only grins harder. “It became pretty clear that someone-” she aims a pointed look at Eddie “-fell asleep and missed his alarm.”

Eddie gapes at her, mouth opening and closing uselessly, because, well… shit.

Eddie opens his mouth, but no actual words come out. His brain is still catching up to the fact that Maddie definitely knows something, or at the very least, suspects it, and he has no idea how to handle that.

“I’m—” he starts, then falters.

I’m what? Sorry? Innocent? In love with your brother? None of those options seem particularly wise to admit out loud.

“You’re…” Maddie drawls, grinning like a cat with a canary in its mouth. 

She’s definitely enjoying this.

And then, like the absolute traitor he is, Buck shoots up from the bed. “I need to pee,” he announces, already scurrying away, practically fleeing the room.

Eddie watches him go, betrayal settling deep in his chest. 

Unbelievable. 

This is his sister, not Eddie’s. 

He should have to deal with this.

Maddie turns back to him, still grinning. “So…” she says, her eyes twinkling with barely contained amusement.

Eddie crosses his arms. “So…” he echoes, bracing himself.

“Did you defile my baby brother?” she asks, voice light, but her smirk is all mischief.

Eddie’s entire body seizes. 

His soul leaves his body. 

He might actually die right here.

“Oh my God,” he hisses, eyes wide with horror.

Maddie just snorts. “What? It’s just a joke.”

It is absolutely not just a joke. It is a verbal landmine, and Eddie is trying very hard not to step on it and explode.

She giggles at his obvious distress. “You were so cute together,” she teases. “Even the nurse said she left you two to it.”

Eddie bites his lip hard, trying to suppress whatever expression just flickered across his face. Because something in Maddie changes, her teasing softens, her gaze sharpens, and then her entire face lights up with realisation.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, staring at him like she just cracked some big, world altering secret. “Something did happen?”

Eddie’s face is on fire. “Why am I getting the third degree?” he deflects. “Do this to Buck. He’s your brother.”

Maddie laughs, absolutely delighted by his suffering. “Buck is injured-” she waves a dismissive hand “-and this is way more fun because your face is literally turning into a tomato, Eddie.”

He groans, dragging his hands down his face. “Jesus, why is everyone in each other’s business in this friend group? Can we not have, like, twenty four hours before people start making assumptions?”

Maddie ignores his suffering entirely. “So? Are you two together?”

That… is a very good question.

Eddie doesn’t have an answer.

His stomach twists, because, yeah, he definitely wants that. The idea of them being something real, something more, it settles so naturally in his chest. 

But they haven’t talked about it yet. 

Haven’t had a moment to breathe, to figure it out, to name whatever this thing between them is.

And of course, before he can even attempt to formulate a response, Buck returns, cradling his injured arm as he steps back into the room.

“What’s happening?” he asks, gaze bouncing between them.

“Oh, nothing,” Maddie says way too casually, eyes still locked on Eddie. “Eddie was just telling me you’re dating…”

Buck blinks. “We are?” He turns to Eddie, eyebrows raised.

Eddie’s head pounds.

“No, I didn’t,” he says, shooting Maddie an exasperated look before turning to Buck. “And we haven’t talked yet, remember?” His voice is as subtle as he can manage, but there’s a pointed weight to it.

Buck catches on immediately, nodding. “Right,” he agrees, clearing his throat.

Maddie sighs dramatically. “God, you two are gonna be even more insufferable now, aren’t you?”

Buck just grins, shy and pleased and so painfully Buck, and Eddie, despite himself, knows she’s probably right.

Maddie apparently has some compassion because she doesn’t bring it up again. Buck is taken down to surgery and she gives Eddie a knowing look before she leaves for work, issuing threats for updates on how Buck is getting on, and then he’s left alone with the quiet hum of the hospital, the lingering warmth of Buck’s presence still pressed into his skin.

When Buck finally comes back from surgery, he’s a little loopy, a whole lot sore, and still the best person Eddie has ever known. Eddie has no problem being there for him, adjusting pillows, pouring water, keeping the world soft and steady while Buck drifts in and out of consciousness. 

They don’t talk about the elephant in the room, the one that settled between them the night before, wrapped in whispered confessions and the kind of kiss that rewrote Eddie’s entire understanding of himself.

Mostly, Buck sleeps. And Eddie stays. Until the nurses finally kick him out with a stern, ‘for real this time’, and he goes home to his house that feels unbearably empty.

The next morning, he’s back at the hospital as soon as visiting hours start because Buck is coming home today. He steps into the room, coffee in one hand, a bag of breakfast sandwiches in the other, and Buck’s face lights up, really lights up, at the sight of him.

Eddie’s heart clenches.

They eat and talk, slipping into something so easy it makes Eddie ache, because it’s them. 

It’s always been them.

Before he can think better of it, the words that have been circling his mind since he finished Christopher’s room by himself the other day finally spill out.

“Stay at my place,” Eddie says. His voice is steady, but his pulse is hammering.

Buck blinks at him, surprised. “Really?” His voice is small, shy in a way that makes Eddie’s chest tight.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “I want you to stay with me.”

Buck huffs out a soft laugh. “Sounds like you’re asking me to move in,” he teases, but there’s something searching in his expression. The silence stretches just a little too long, and Buck lifts an eyebrow. “Are you? Asking me to move in?”

Eddie bites his lip, suddenly nervous. 

What is he asking? 

They haven’t talked about the kiss, haven’t put words to what’s so clearly happening between them. But he does know one thing, he doesn’t want Buck anywhere else.

“Stay while your arm is healing,” he starts, and he sees it, the slight dimming in Buck’s expression like he thinks this is temporary, like Eddie’s already setting a timeline on whatever this is. So Eddie rushes on, “And maybe just… stay after that, too. If that’s what you want.” He exhales, voice quieter. “If Christopher is okay with it, of course.”

Buck looks at him for a long moment, expression caught between fond and amused, and then, he laughs.

“You are so bad at this,” he snorts.

“Shut up,” Eddie groans, rolling his eyes.

Buck grins. “Is this what dating you is gonna be like? You tell my sister all our secrets-”

“I didn’t! She guessed!”

“Because she caught us cuddling and you acted like she caught me inside you.”

“Oh my God, Buck,” Eddie chokes, scandalised, his face immediately heating up.

Buck beams at him, utterly unrepentant. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“You’re an asshole,” Eddie grumbles. “I take it back. You can’t live with me.”

“No take backs, Eddie. I’m not Marisol.”

“Ouch.” Eddie grimaces.

“Too soon?” Buck shrugs. “My bad.”

“Like I said… asshole.”

But they’re both grinning, warmth pooling between them, something lighter than all the weight they’ve carried. Eddie looks down, suddenly shy, then back up at Buck, and this time, he lets himself feel it, the want, the love, the absolute certainty settling in his bones.

He swallows. “Move in with me,” he whispers.

Buck’s expression softens. “Okay,” he says, nodding, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Then his lips twitch, eyes dancing with mischief. “But you have to promise to hold the ladder from now on. That’s a terrible metaphor to start our beautiful budding relationship with.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “You’re really distracting.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Buck tilts his head. “Right, so. We’re moving in together. You gonna do your next love confession now and kiss me again, or have you got an engagement planned?”

“Buck,” Eddie groans.

“Eddie,” Buck mimics in the same tone.

Eddie exhales sharply, pressing his hands against his thighs. His heart is racing. His whole world feels like it’s tilting, but it’s not unsteady. 

It’s falling into place.

“I love you,” Eddie blurts, like the words have been burning in his chest for too long to hold in any longer. He exhales, eyes shining. “Even if you’re annoying and a little mean.”

Buck smirks, “You like it.” His voice turns softer, more teasing. “What else? I want to be romanced, Diaz.”

Eddie shakes his head, standing up and stepping closer to the bed. “You’re insufferable, Buckley.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Buck grins, pretending to fan himself.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed and finally looks at him, really looks at him. Even in a hospital bed, even with days old stubble and tired eyes, he’s the most beautiful thing Eddie has ever seen.

“You’re my best friend,” Eddie whispers.

And that is what makes this different. What makes this everything. Because Buck is his. His best friend. His go to. The one person who has never left. The one person who has never let him down. The only person Eddie has ever felt fully like himself with.

He swallows. “And I love you.” His lips curl into a soft smile. “In that order.”

Buck’s eyes shine. “Yeah? Why that order?”

Eddie exhales, heart wide open. “Because that’s why loving you isn’t scary,” he says, voice quiet but steady. “I know you so well because you’re my best friend. And I fell in love with you because of it too. Because you are my best friend. You’re my safe place, Buck. And I—” He swallows, emotions swelling in his throat. “I want this. Us.”

Buck blinks rapidly, then huffs out a wet laugh. “This is your best one so far,” he says thickly. “Are they just gonna keep getting sweeter?”

Eddie smiles, brushing his knuckles against Buck’s. “Whatever you want.”

Buck bites his lip, something hesitant flickering across his face before he glances up. “Remember when you had that stupid idea to move back to El Paso for, like, a minute?”

Eddie tilts his head. “Yeah?”

“That was my carrot moment, which is a sentence I’m never saying again,” Buck says, voice raw but light. “It hit me… hard. But it wasn’t easy like you just described. It was scary as fuck. Not because loving you is scary, but because everyone seems to leave me eventually. Everyone breaks my heart no matter how hard I try. And the thing is… that’s always hurt me. And I thought that was bad.” Buck exhales sharply. “But the second I realised I loved you…” He reaches out, fingers brushing against Eddie’s chest, right over his heart. “I realised that all of that was insignificant. Because you have the power to destroy me, Eddie. And until two days ago, I honestly thought we’d never happen.”

Eddie’s throat tightens. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Buck shakes his head. “It wasn’t even because I thought you were straight. A part of me, this always stupidly hopeful part… thought, there’s no way you don’t feel this too. It wasn’t that.” He swallows. “It was because out of everyone in my life, my heart has always been the safest with you. And I knew you’d never hurt me. Even though you could. And that seemed way too perfect for someone who always feels like he loses when he loves people.”

Eddie exhales, eyes stinging. “I won’t hurt you,” he promises. “Or, I’ll never do it on purpose.”

Buck nods, smiling timidly.

“You’re good at this too,” Eddie mutters, wiping his face. “And you’re a little high right now. You’re gonna be killer at this at full capacity.”

Buck laughs, warm and a little breathless, and then he reaches out, fingers curling gently around Eddie’s wrist, thumb brushing against the pulse point like he’s grounding himself. 

Like Eddie is something steady in a world that’s never quite let him stand still.

And Eddie moves without thinking, without hesitation. He leans in, closing the space between them with a kiss that is nothing like the first one. 

This one isn’t full of uncertainty. 

It’s soft, slow, full of something intentional.

Their lips meet like they were always meant to. Like this is a path they’ve been walking toward for years, and now they’ve finally arrived. 

Eddie’s hand comes up to cradle Buck’s jaw, thumb sweeping just under his cheekbone and he deepens the kiss just slightly. Buck melts into it. Into Eddie. His fingers tighten around Eddie’s wrist, like he’s afraid to let go, like he wants to pull him even closer despite the space between them already disappearing. 

The hospital room, the machines humming quietly in the background, the antiseptic smell of the place… it all fades. 

There is only the feeling of Buck’s lips against his, soft and sure. The way he tilts his chin up just a little, how he exhales into Eddie like he’s been waiting for this, like it’s a relief as much as it’s a revelation.

Eddie kisses him like he’s making a promise, like he’s memorising the way Buck feels under his hands, the way Buck tastes, a little like toothpaste, a little like coffee, but mostly like something warm and familiar and completely his.

They pull apart slowly, like neither of them really want to, like the moment is too good to let go of too soon. 

Eddie keeps their foreheads pressed together, eyes fluttering open to meet Buck’s, to take in the way he looks at him, soft and shining and Eddie is so completely gone for him.

Buck’s breath catches, lips curling into the smallest, sweetest smile. “Take me home,” he whispers, his voice so full of trust, like he already knows Eddie will.

Eddie swallows past the lump in his throat, lets his fingers card through the curls at the nape of Buck’s neck, and whispers back, “Okay.”