Archive of Our Own

Buck knows he’s already on the way to getting drunk when his vision starts to turn blurry. Yet he can still faintly see a figure beside him, leaning back in an armchair with a laughter that Buck could recognize from a million miles away. 

Eddie turns to look at him and grins widely, breath still uneasy from whatever Hen had said. She’s playing some drinking game involving playing cards with Chimney that Buck had zoned out hearing the instructions for. Meanwhile, Ravi plays bartender, only slightly spilling the drinks every time he shakes the cocktail shaker. 

Eddie’s eyes glimmer as they meet Buck’s. His cheeks are flushed, just how they always get whenever he’s had more than two beers. Buck feels his stomach flip at the sight. He chooses to blame it on the pizza that Ravi made, which honestly did not look so trustworthy, mixing in with the tequila already swimming in his stomach. 

The five of them are sitting around Ravi’s living room after Chimney had commented on shift the day before that he hadn’t really had a night of drinking for fun since the baby was born, usually suggesting that Maddie have her wine nights with Athena and Karen. While she does, Chim stays home with the kids—swapping beer for princess tea parties. Ravi jumped at the opportunity to host, claiming he had just finished renovating his new current apartment and needed an excuse to celebrate.

Buck should’ve known that drinking with a twenty-something-year-old would only lead him to drink more than he usually would on a night in, but it’s nice. It’s fun to let loose every once in a while. God knows they’ve all needed it lately. 

After the year they’ve had, it’s certainly warranted. 

But that’s not what tonight is about. There’s no reliving the past, drowning out the sorrows. It’s a night of unwinding—of Ravi playing whatever music the kids listen to these days while Hen invents new drinking games and Chim eats a whole bag of family-sized Cheetos all on his own. 

It’s a night of Eddie, sitting by his side, feet tangling with Buck’s under the dining room table, and that blinding smile on his face. 

Honestly, Buck doesn’t think he’s had this much to drink since Chimney’s Bachelor party—a night he doesn’t really remember awfully well. He doesn’t think Eddie has either, which might be why he’s so insistent on going toe-to-toe with Ravi on shots. 

“Eddddieeee,” Ravi’s voice sings out as he eyes the almost empty bottle of tequila sitting on the table between them. 

Eddie laughs again in response, shaking his head, but he still grabs the bottle and their shot glasses. “What about you, Buck?” he asks, swaying forward into Buck’s space close enough that Buck can smell the woodsy cologne on him. Over the years, it seems to have become a favorite scent of his. “You want in?” 

Buck should say no; he’s said no every time Ravi has asked tonight. He really shouldn’t be drinking like he’s twenty again. He knows he’ll regret it the morning after. 

But when Eddie asks? He has a little more trouble denying the offer. 

“Fine.” He exhales dramatically, causing that grin to reappear on Eddie’s face. Ravi cheers alongside as Eddie gladly grabs another shot glass and fills them up. He only spills a little bit of tequila on the table, but Ravi doesn’t seem to care that much right now. He might in the morning, once he realizes just how bad the cosmo he was mixing up earlier for Hen, then promptly spilled, has stained his fancy rug a bright pink. 

With a lack of patience, Ravi grabs his novelty Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shot glass that was supposedly a gag gift from some old high school friends. He downs it without waiting for the other two, grimacing only slightly before sipping whatever concoction he mixed up before. Eddie chuckles at his antics before handing Buck his own shot glass—the Michelangelo one, while keeping the Leonardo one for himself. Their fingertips brush for the lightest of seconds, yet Buck still feels inflamed. 

Buck huffs jokily as he stares down the glass. “Why am I Michelangelo?”

Eddie snorts. “Do I really need to explain that?”

“I’m fuzzy on my Ninja Turtle knowledge. Go on,” Buck orders. He thinks the last time he even thought about the Ninja Turtles was whenever Chris put the show on, which was probably years ago now. 

“Because he’s like… the fun one. The light-hearted one. He’s the heart of the group,” Eddie rambles as the tip of his finger circles the rim of the shot glass idly. “Leo’s the leader, Donnie’s the brains, Raph’s the muscle, and Mikey’s the heart. And you’re our heart, Buck,” he says with more fondness than Buck was expecting. 

Buck blames the way his cheeks flush from the alcohol, and not from Eddie’s sweet words. Eddie always gets affectionate with his words and touch when he’s drinking, like the worries in his everyday life vanish away. Buck loves it. 

“Plus, you think nunchucks are cool,” Eddie adds on, like he didn’t just cause Buck’s heart to skip a beat. 

“Nunchucks are cool,” Buck defends, purposefully ignoring the rest of what Eddie said. “How come you’re the leader?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just am.”

“That’s a shit reason,” Buck retorts, causing Eddie to laugh loudly again. This time, Buck can see his pointy canine teeth peeking through and has the insane imagination of what they’d feel like against the tip of his tongue. “Not because you jerk off to the chain of command?” he teases. 

Eddie glares at him, unimpressed, though he’s still warm around the edges from his constant laughter so it doesn’t really have any merit to it. “See, you’re also Mikey because you’re both annoying.” 

“Hey!” Buck shouts. He shoves Eddie’s arm, almost causing him to fall off his chair from the lack of balance. Eddie seems dizzy for a moment before recovering. “I’m not annoying.”

“Yes, you are,” Chimney chimes in, not even looking up from the playing cards. 

Buck scoffs and throws a Sour Patch Kid from the table at him, hitting his temple. “Nobody asked you.” 

“I’m right, though.” 

“Which version are you going off, though?” Ravi asks Eddie over Buck’s head. Buck did not realize Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles lore went this deep. “The live-action movies sucked.” 

“The 2012 series, obviously,” Eddie huffs exasperatedly. 

Buck makes a note to himself—Eddie gets passionate over the Ninja Turtles when drunk. Part of him loves it. He loves finding out the quirky things about Eddie. Eddie usually keeps his cards to his chest—Buck prides himself on pulling back those layers, seeing the underbelly of Eddie Diaz. 

He also loves having the opportunity to tease Eddie about something new. 

“Oh, obviously,” Buck imitates. “I didn’t realize you had such strong opinions on cartoon turtles.”

Eddie fakes a wounded look, hand to chest and furrowed brows. “That is so insulting.” Buck can’t help giggling back at him, feeling light and fuzzy inside and out. Eddie nudges his shoulder, foot pressed even closer to Buck’s. “Take the shot, Buckley,” he commands. 

Buck rolls his eyes but does as he’s told. He and Eddie down the shots in one go at the same time, gaze matched and locked in. Buck feels alive. Skin buzzing, mind floating, almost weightless. Though he thinks that has more to do with Eddie than the shot itself. 

The brief moment trapped in their own bubble is quickly interrupted by Hen and Ravi suddenly cheering about something in the drinking game. The result being Chimney chugging his own drink. Eddie cheers along with them, but Buck isn’t so sure he actually knows what they’re doing either. But it doesn’t matter. He’s laughing, lying back in the chair again, completely unburdened. 

Buck relishes seeing Eddie like this—allowing himself to let loose and have fun without a care in the world. Chris is at a friend’s tonight, so Eddie doesn’t have anywhere else he needs to be other than in this room right here, surrounded by their team. It’s not often that he lets himself do this, Buck has noticed. Even when he and Ravi took Eddie out to a club to meet people, he was still wound up. Too on edge to really enjoy it. But here, there’s nobody else they need to be other than themselves. No performance necessary. 

It’s present on Eddie’s face just how relaxed and easy he is. His hair has lost most of its traces of gel from earlier in the day, curling over his forehead and sticking up wildly in the back from where he keeps leaning his head back. His grin is ever-present, at times hidden behind a can, but never diminishing. He spreads his legs wide, stretching, before kicking them up into Buck’s lap.

Buck glares at him. “Uh, excuse you?”

“You’re excused,” Eddie says, closing his eyes and resting the back of his head against his palms. His biceps flex as he rocks slowly, and Buck has to tear his eyes away from the sight. 

Eddie’s arms have gotten… bigger lately, Buck’s noticed. It would almost be impossible not to notice. And, as Eddie’s best friend, it would also be considered rude not to notice. Buck’s a very attentive best friend. 

And Eddie’s arms are big. They all saw his little performance at the charity auction; those arms are fucking huge. Buck knows Eddie’s been working out a lot more lately. He’s been bulking up. It’s pretty obvious with how tight his shirt clings at his biceps and broad shoulders, and how it unintentionally makes Buck’s mouth water—picturing squeezing those biceps, fingernails digging into the skin. 

Though as Buck looks away from Eddie’s bulging arms, he can’t help but linger his gaze on his thighs instead. How thick they are. How they pulse every time Eddie shifts his legs on Buck’s lap. How they’d looked striped bare, nothing but the coarse hair, and covered in bite marks. 

Buck suddenly becomes very aware of how close Eddie’s knee is to his crotch. He’s also suddenly very aware of how tight his pants are starting to become. 

Buck coughs awkwardly, ripping his eyes away from Eddie’s legs and downs the rest of his beer. He focuses his gaze back on Eddie’s face. Thank God his eyes are still closed.  

“Don’t pass out,” Buck warns, trying to sound normal and not like he was just envisioning how Eddie’s thighs would look over his shoulders, Buck’s head in between, and mouth full.

“‘M not gonna pass out,” Eddie slurs. 

Buck glances at the clock hanging on Ravi’s wall. “You cannot pass out before midnight, man.” 

“I’m not,” Eddie repeats like a stubborn child. “Tell me something interesting, then.”

Buck pauses for a moment to think. He absent-mindedly begins rubbing Eddie’s calf, feeling the tension vanish. Eddie wiggles his socked-feet into Buck’s thighs. 

“Did you know—” At that, Eddie sits up straighter, blinking his eyes open. His chair squeaks against the floor as he moves in closer to Buck’s bubble. “That turtles have extremely large penises.”

“What?” Ravi interrupts with a look of pure horror on his face.

But Eddie just laughs loudly into Buck’s ear, a blissful sound. He practically falls into Buck’s lap. 

“Why do you know that?” Hen asks.

Buck just shrugs back in response. He actually can’t remember how he learned that right now. Probably something to do with Chris’s school project from four years ago on turtles—though that fact was clearly not something they taught the kids, just something Buck found out when he conducted his own research deep-dive on the matter. 

“Is that even true?” Ravi questions. 

“I believe it,” Eddie states, still leaning all his weight against Buck’s side. It feels comforting. 

“Yeah, because you believe anything Buck says,” Chim retorts.

Eddie lets out a pleased hum at that. He faces Buck again, looking absolutely giddy with a blinding grin. Buck’s insides turn to jelly. “Yeah,” he says a bit too fondly to be casual. 

“Ravi, what the hell is this song?” Hen says, turning the attention away from Buck and Eddie again as Ravi defends his… questionable music taste. But Buck can barely hear the song, even though the bass is making the walls shake. All he can hear is Eddie’s breath so close to his ear and the beating of his own heart rising every passing moment. 

“Hmm. You smell nice,” Eddie mumbles as he rests his head on Buck’s shoulder. Their legs tangle together again, thighs pressed up against one another. 

Buck tries to contain his hitching breath. “What do I smell like? Sweat and the cranberry juice Ravi spilt?”

Shockingly, Eddie inches in closer and takes a whiff from Buck’s neck. Buck really cannot control the way he instantly freezes up from it, though Eddie doesn’t comment on it. “Mmm. You just smell like Buck,” he says instead. 

Buck chuckles a little stiffly. He holds back from swallowing his own tongue. “Okay, what does Buck even smell like?”

“I don’t know. Just… you. It’s nice.” Eddie settles his head against Buck’s shoulder again. “Pheronomes,” he grumbles, sounding sleepy again. 

“Is it giving you dopamine? The pheronomes?” Buck jokes.

“Dopa-what?” 

Buck snorts. “Eddie, you know what dopamine is.”

“It’s a funny word,” Eddie claims nonsensically. Really, neither of them seems to be making much sense tonight. 

“Pheronmes is funnier.”

“Oh! You know what’s a funny word?” Eddie jumps up from Buck’s side in excitement. Buck tries not to mourn the loss of touch too much. “Discombobulation.” 

Buck bites back a grin. “Or banana,” he claims. 

Eddie just stares at him. The face kind of reminds Buck of Jee whenever Buck says something that doesn’t align with her playtime world-building. “Banana is a normal word, bud."

“There’s too many N’s and A’s!” Buck argues. 

“Nincompoop!” Eddie shouts back.

Buck frowns. He pokes at Eddie’s ribs, causing a splutter to escape his lips. “Don’t call me a nincompoop.” 

“No, I’m saying nincompoop is a funny word,” Eddie stresses. He sways forward again in his seat. “But you are a nincompoop.” 

Buck leans in close enough that his breath brushes over Eddie’s cheeks. “You’re a nincompoop.”

“You’re both nincompoops,” Ravi mutters from behind him. Buck ignores him. Usually, he’d respond with some retort back, never one to back down from arguing with Ravi, but Buck can’t seem to bring himself to look away from Eddie right now. 

Eddie appears to have the same idea. His gaze is glued to Buck until he squeezes his eyes tight and lets out an annoyed groan. “I gotta piss.”

“You’ll break the seal.” 

Eddie stands to his feet, still grunting. “I know, but I gotta piss, man.” He stands above Buck, and wow, that’s a sight. He puckers out his bottom lip as he whines in a way he’d totally deny if commented on, “Come with me.” 

Buck pouts back, leaning further in his seat to gaze up at Eddie. “Do I have to?” He’s half-assing the complaining. The moment Eddie stood up, Buck knew he’d follow him anyway, but he wasn’t going to show his hand too obviously. 

“Yes,” Eddie insists as he grabs onto Buck’s wrist and tugs with all his drunken-deluted strength. 

Like clockwork, Buck gives in. “I’m not coming with every time,” he groans but allows Eddie to pull him to his feet, grip slipping from his wrist until Eddie’s holding his hand instead. Buck tries not to overthink the contact. It’s just… practical, that’s all. 

Eddie leads him down the hallway to the bathroom, snorting a “Sure,” clearly not believing him. Buck happily, and with the utmost pleasure, lets Eddie guide him through Ravi’s house, making their way past the cat tree in the hallway next to the bathroom. 

“I think Ravi’s lying about this cat,” Eddie mutters under his breath. He’s a really big fan of Ravi’s cat, but the cat seems to be hiding from them all night. Or Eddie in particular. He may have gotten a little too extreme with his patting last time they were over. 

Buck laughs as they enter the bathroom while, much to his dismay, Eddie’s hand slips from his. “Pretty elaborate lie,” Buck says and points to the kitty litter tray in the corner. 

“Then where is it?” Eddie lifts the lid of the toilet. 

While Buck and Eddie are no strangers to crossing each other’s lines of boundaries, Buck looks away, deciding that maybe some privacy is still important, and inspects Ravi’s skincare lineup on his bathroom counter instead. “Hiding from you, probably.”

“That’s mean.” Buck can hear the sad expression on Eddie’s face even with his back turned. “I love cats,” he whispers to himself.

Buck picks up a bottle of niacinamide while Eddie flushes the toilet. “You should get one,” he says. 

“I can’t look after it alone.” Eddie frowns as he turns back around to face Buck—already tucked into his pants, not that Buck was looking. 

Buck leans against the counter to get a good look at him. “You have a son, y’know,” he points out. “Make it Chris’s job to clean the litter.” 

Eddie begins washing his hands and scoffs lightly. “Not what I meant,” he mumbles under his breath. Buck doesn’t know what he means by it, but he brushes it off. 

“Mmm. Now I need to pee.”

Eddie chuckles, taking his spot by the counter to watch him. “You gonna count down?” he jokes. 

Buck rolls his eyes. He once made the drunken mistake a few years ago of telling Eddie that, sometimes, he counts down before he pees, otherwise he can’t do it. Eddie hasn’t let him live it down since. 

“Yes, actually,” Buck says. “Turn away.” Eddie huffs but listens anyway, turning around despite himself. “Three… Two… One…” Buck dramatically counts down before conducting his business. He can hear Eddie laughing at him still. 

“You’re so weird, man,” Eddie says as Buck flushes the toilet and begins washing his own hands, doubling up on Ravi’s fruity foaming soap just for the sake of it. It’s now Eddie’s turn to lean against the sink to watch him. 

And watch him, Eddie does. Buck can see in the reflection of the mirror that Eddie’s got that corny look on his face. Buck’s noticed that it is a new permanent fixture of Eddie’s, like when Buck enters the station kitchen with a Tupperware full of his favorite protein cookies. Eddie’s looking at Buck now like he’s one of those cookies. If Buck were more sober, he might have more feelings about deciphering the meaning behind it, but right now, he just appreciates the grin. 

“You like me weird,” Buck jokes back. He flicks his wet hands in Eddie’s face, making his nose scrunch up. 

Eddie shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. Buck watches him for one moment longer, taking in the sight, before turning to leave the bathroom. However, something stops him before he can even get the chance to walk out the door. 

He feels Eddie’s hand curl around his wrist again. Like earlier, Buck’s heart starts pumping rapidly. He turns back around and levels Eddie a confused look. But before Buck can even speak to ask what’s up, Eddie’s suddenly dropping Buck’s wrist for his waist instead, pulling him in even closer, and lifting another hand to Buck’s cheek.

The sensation of Eddie’s hand on his cheek is soft. He strokes it gently with wonder in his eyes. Buck feels himself falling apart at the touch, bewilderment mixed in with deep desire. If Buck lets out a gasp from it, well, that’s between him and God—and maybe Eddie, too. But Eddie doesn’t comment on it. His grin only widens, a pleased look in his eyes mixed in with hunger. 

It’s all so confusing. Buck doesn’t understand what any of it means, but he lets it happen. He’d be stupid to pull away now. 

The grip Eddie has on his waist is tight, digging into Buck’s skin, overflowing from his waistband. Eddie pinches it like it’s a marvel, but his eyes never leave Buck’s, pupils blown wide. It’s a gaze Buck has only seen in sleepless nights—in dreams he’d never let himself think about, ones that he’s been too afraid to decode what they really mean.

Buck swallows harshly. The feeling is painful. Eddie’s thumb moves down to trace his Adam’s apple, and if Buck had a few more shots in him, maybe he would’ve let out the debilitating moan that threatens to escape his lips. 

“What—”

Buck cuts his own words off with another shuddering gasp as Eddie suddenly pulls him in. He’s compelled to allow Eddie to guide him, complete putty under his control. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be. 

“Weirdo,” is all he hears Eddie mutter fondly under his breath before his lips meet Buck’s. 

It lasts a split second, way too short for Buck to even count the milliseconds, but somehow still, it’s life-changing. A short pressing of lips, breaths exchanged through mouths, and the feeling of knowing this is it. Buck’s ruined for anyone else forever now. No other lips will ever hold a crown to Eddie’s chapped and tequila-tainted ones. 

When Eddie pulls away, he’s still grinning widely. It’s a look reminiscent of the unruly way Eddie lets himself go on nights with the two of them and Chris, sitting on the couch, a dumb movie playing on screen, and empty pizza boxes on the table. It’s pure joy. 

Despite the battlefield currently taking place in his head and the butterflies swimming in Budweiser in his stomach, making him feel like throwing up, Buck can’t help but smile back. That only causes Eddie’s grin to grow brighter—something Buck didn’t know was possible. He feels like he’s light-years away when Eddie presses his lips softly to his birthmark instead. Buck can’t decide if this breaks him more than the kiss to his lips. Either way, he squeezes his eyes tight and prays this isn’t a dream.

But if it were a dream, suddenly he’s being woken up by an insistent knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Please tell me you’re decent in there,” Chimney’s voice calls through the door. “I need to pee so fucking bad.” 

Almost as quickly as the moment began, the moment ends with Eddie stepping back. He looks away and shakes his head, while all Buck can bring himself to do is watch him open the bathroom door. 

Chimney raises an eyebrow at the two once he walks in. “Do I even wanna know what was happening in here?”

Buck is still frozen in place, so Eddie has to tug him by the arm again. Snorting, Eddie jokes, “Don’t tell Ravi.” 

“Don’t tell Ravi what?” Chim shouts when Eddie shuts him in the bathroom. “C’mon, guys!”

Eddie leans against the door as Chimney mutters on the other side. He’s still laughing, warm around the edges with flushed cheeks. His hand is still in Buck’s, swinging in the air between them.

And it’s fine. Everything is so fine! Buck isn’t losing his mind over the feeling of Eddie’s lips still lingering on his own or Eddie’s hand in his own, very sweaty one. He can deal with this. 

Eddie watches him for a second more before standing up straight again. If he notices the look of peril on Buck’s face, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Can you grab me a drink, bud?” he asks instead, pointing down the hallway to the kitchen, opposite to where Hen and Ravi can be heard still arguing over the music. “Please?” He pulls out that pout again with those fucking round eyes. A deadly combo for Evan Buckley. 

“Y—Yeah,” Buck agrees without even considering it for a moment longer. His mind is still adrift, but the look that dons Eddie’s face makes it all worth it.

Buck makes his way to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and grabbing two beers on complete autopilot. His brain feels fuzzy, thoughts jumbled together like they’re being tossed in the salad mixer that’s sitting on Ravi’s kitchen counter. For a moment there, Buck sticks his head into the fridge and just breathes. 

So, Eddie kissed him. Guess that’s meant to be something normal. Just something they do now. Two friends. Platonically. 

It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s not something Eddie would do sober. It’s not something Buck would do sober. It was just a kiss. It barely lasted a minute. Eddie was just… too deep in the moment and confused. He didn’t mean to kiss Buck. Why would he? 

Buck groans, smacking his head against a carton of coconut water before shutting the fridge closed and committing to being a normal functioning human being again.

He can do that. 

Buck can’t do that. 

After his sad attempt at recuperating, he walks back into the living room, purposefully taking his time, and collapses into his chair. He inches it away from Eddie as much as he can without it being suspicious. He places Eddie’s beer on the table in front of him, but ignores his hand gesturing for Buck to give it directly to him.

In the corner of his eye, Buck can see Eddie staring him down with furrowed brows. Buck ignores it by downing half his own drink and turning to Ravi and Hen’s conversation instead, but he still hears Eddie huff as he eventually grabs his drink from the table. 

For a brief stretch of time, Buck tries his damndest to avoid looking at Eddie. He asks Ravi about the date he went on with May, despite having already heard the whole story from May herself. He joins in on Hen and Chim’s game, chugging his drink and downing another shot when he loses. He ignores the obvious way Eddie scoots his chair closer to Buck’s every few minutes. 

However, as the night goes on and Buck’s head begins to feel lighter again, he kind of forgets why exactly he’s been avoiding Eddie. It’s a difficult feat for him, always longing to be in Eddie’s bubble, so really, it’s not surprising that Buck lets himself fall back into it. He can never seem to resist Eddie.

So when Eddie passes him an almost-empty bottle of Moscato from the back of Ravi’s alcohol supply, Buck happily takes it. The pleased expression that returns to Eddie’s face as their fingers brush makes it all worth it anyway. 

Buck takes a sip before handing it back over to Eddie. It’s not really Buck’s wine of choice, but he knows it’s Eddie’s favorite, so Buck endures the sweetness for him. Somehow, Eddie’s limbs find their way drawn back with Buck’s before either of them really notices. Thighs brushing against one another while their legs tangle together again.  

Eddie’s eyes lock onto Buck’s once more as he takes his own drag of the bottle, the conversations of their friends drowning out in the background. Buck watches him as he knocks his head back, throat on full display. He fixates on how a drop clings to Eddie’s bottom lip when he pulls back. About how badly Buck wants to taste it. How Eddie’s lips, which have already touched Buck’s tonight, have brushed against the bottle that Buck also has. If Eddie spat into the bottle right now, Buck would probably still drink it. 

Which is totally not a normal thought to have about your best friend, even if he’s already kissed you, Buck reminds himself, as he grabs the bottle from Eddie again when he offers it. 

Buck downs the rest of the drink, almost choking as he places the empty bottle under the table. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. 

“You good?” he asks.

Buck can’t bring himself to speak. He only nods. 

For some reason, Eddie takes that as an indication to move in closer. He leans his head on Buck’s shoulder as he joins in on Chimney’s rant about some 80’s movie Buck has never seen. The tension between them from before eases instantly—at least for Eddie. Buck, on the other hand, is overthinking everything. He tries not to breathe too harshly lest he jolt Eddie. 

Maybe everything is okay. The kiss was just a fluke. It’ll never happen again, Buck can guarantee that. 

“Guess what?” Eddie whispers into the side of Buck’s neck, shaking Buck’s thoughts away. The touch makes him shudder. 

Buck sucks in a breath and prays Eddie doesn’t notice how his whole body tenses up from the sensation of his breath on Buck’s bare skin. “What?” he asks. 

But Eddie doesn’t respond. He just stands up, making Buck feel colder at once, and begins walking down the hallway again. 

Without even needing to be asked, Buck follows Eddie to the bathroom, just like Eddie knew he would.

Once the door of the bathroom closes, Eddie pushes him against it instantly. His lips find Buck’s again, hungrier this time. 

Buck knows he shouldn’t kiss back. He knows it’ll just make matters worse, but he can’t help the way he falls into Eddie. Blame it on the intoxication in his brain or the swelling around his heart. 

Buck parts his lips wider as Eddie licks into them, biting into his bottom lip and gasping into Buck like his life depends on it. Buck revels in it. He pushes into Eddie, gripping the back of his head and pulling him in impossibly closer. 

If this is all Eddie is willing to give Buck, then he will take it. Drunk kisses between friends are easier to deny meaning anything than sober ones.  

Eddie moans into his mouth at the heated contact. He grips Buck’s waist again so hard that Buck fears it’ll leave marks there in the morning. Eddie’s knee finds its way in between Buck’s parted legs, putting pressure on his hardening cock, all the while he continues licking into Buck’s mouth.

Helplessly, Buck jolts against Eddie’s knee. He releases a moan that Eddie swallows down and knocks his head back into the wall. Eddie’s mouth parts from his for a moment, breathing heavily with a blissed out look on his face. He rests his forehead against Buck’s and attempts to catch his breath. However, his knee never falters. He pushes it harder against Buck, watching the way Buck ruts into it with no control. The feeling is intoxicating. Buck is addicted, and he will never get enough of it. 

Buck wants to hide his burning face, shame creeping up, and tries ducking his head into Eddie’s neck, but Eddie doesn’t allow him. He releases a hand from Buck’s waist and brings it up to grip his neck, forcing Buck to look into his eyes as he continues grinding into him. 

“E—Eddie,” Buck moans, biting down on his swollen lip to will himself to quiet down. His hips never stop moving, though. If anything, they get more intense as Eddie guides Buck’s parted legs into his thigh. 

“It’s okay, bud,” Eddie whispers as his lips trail down to Buck’s throat. He sucks, biting into the skin with those pointy canines. Buck has to bite back another moan, lest their friends down the hall hear them. 

Buck wants to ask what are they doing. He needs to ask what it all means. But he can’t. It’s like the practical part of his brain has shut off, replaced by the feeling of only Eddie’s hands on him, of how he tastes and how he sounds as he groans into Buck’s neck, biting down. 

The feeling is exhilarating. Buck feels drunk off of Eddie rather than the drinks he’s had tonight. The sensation of Eddie’s body on his is distracting; every thought in his brain telling him that this is wrong suddenly disappears. Any sense of his dignity flies out the window with Eddie’s lips on his body. 

And the weirdest part—something about it feels familiar. Not the sensation of kissing someone you shouldn’t in a bathroom at a party, but the someone in question. Buck’s kissed many people before, but something about kissing Eddie feels oddly familiar. The way that Eddie’s lips feel when sucking on his neck and the death grip he has on Buck’s body is surely something he’d remember, though. 

Right?

The pressure on Buck’s cock grows tighter by the second the longer Eddie grinds into him. Buck can feel himself edging the line, getting closer to release. He grips his hands into Eddie’s hair, tugging him off his neck to look into his eyes. 

Buck doesn’t even have to say the words, a ghostly, “I’m close,” before Eddie’s picking up on what he’s saying. Eddie nods, eyes wild, before his lips find Buck’s again. Buck gasps as Eddie pulls him in ever closer and grinds harder. It doesn’t take him much longer until he’s coming, moaning into Eddie’s mouth and growing pliant under his grip. Eddie never stops, though. He holds on tighter, still licking into Buck’s mouth as his grinds grow sloppy. Buck nearly whimpers from the overstimulation and the feeling of tackiness in his pants. He has to physically pull Eddie away by gripping him from the back of the head.

When their eyes meet again, Eddie’s are blown wide. He’s gasping for air, his face a burning red with swollen lips.

Buck thinks he looks beautiful. 

“S—Sorry,” Eddie exhales. 

Buck feels speechless so he only shakes his head and tempts an easy smile, trying to ease the flash of apprehension that suddenly crosses Eddie’s face. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers back. Eddie gulps loudly between them but doesn’t seem any calmer. He takes a step back from Buck, making Buck drop the hand on the back of his neck.  

Eddie wipes a hand down his flushed face as he looks away from Buck. Buck’s stomach instantly turns. 

He knew Eddie would regret it. Why did he let himself get so carried away?

Still leaning against the bathroom door, Buck is unmoored. All he can do is watch as Eddie paces the length of the small bathroom, eyes squeezed shut and hands tucked behind his head. It’s like the realization of what just happened sobered Eddie up in an instant. The joy from before vanished from the room. 

The worst part of it all is that Buck can see that Eddie is still hard. 

But Buck can’t even think about that right now, not when Eddie looks like he’s seconds away from throwing up. All because of him and his stupid dick. 

Just because Buck couldn’t pull away from him. 

Finally finding his footing, Buck stands up from the door and approaches Eddie like he’s a spooked animal. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Eddie either doesn’t hear him from the blood rushing to his head or chooses not to answer. He continues pacing, swallowing roughly and repetitively. 

“Eddie?” Buck asks again, louder. He reaches a hand out, almost touching Eddie on the arm, before Eddie bolts. He races to the toilet, lifts the seat, and throws up. 

Buck grimaces as all he can do is watch Eddie spill his guts into Ravi’s toilet. He tentatively rubs a hand down Eddie’s back, looking away and praying he doesn’t vomit himself. 

After a few more moments, Eddie quietens. He removes his head from the bowl and peeks up at Buck through wet lashes. Buck frowns down at him and hands him one of Ravi’s hand towels to clean his face. He flushes the toilet for Eddie. 

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he wipes his mouth with the towel. “That’s what I get for drinking Ravi’s cocktails.” 

“Do you feel better?” 

Eddie closes his eyes and lets his head hit the wall behind him. “No.” 

“What’s happenin’ here?” Ravi suddenly appears from the doorway, staring at the two in confusion.

“Eddie threw up,” Buck says, not daring to mention the lingering thought in the back of his mind that Eddie only threw up because he made out with Buck. But maybe Ravi doesn’t need to know about how Eddie made Buck come in his bathroom. He’d actually kill Buck for that. 

“Oh, fuck,” Ravi eloquently says. “I’ll grab some water.” He runs out of the room.

Buck doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. This whole night feels like whiplash—from basking in Eddie’s joy, withering under his stare, avoiding him, making out with him, and now this. None of it makes any sense. 

Eddie doesn’t move from where he’s curled up in the corner by the toilet. He doesn’t dare to look at Buck again, almost like he can’t bear it. 

This has to be Buck’s fault. Did he overwhelm Eddie? Did he take it too far? Is that why Eddie threw up? Did the thought of kissing Buck make him physically sick? 

Buck should’ve stopped it when he could. He shouldn’t have let Eddie kiss him a second time—or at all. But Buck got carried away. He saw everything he wanted in the palm of his hands, and he couldn’t help it. He had to be greedy. 

He wanted too much of Eddie, and now this is the outcome. Past the point of no return and a driven sick best friend. 

His spiraling is cut off by Ravi re-entering the room. He hands Eddie a bottle of water. Sluggishly, Eddie downs it, swirls some in his mouth before spitting it back into the toilet. 

“Hen said Karen’s around the corner to pick up her and Chim,” Ravi says. “Do you wanna hitch a ride with them?”

Eddie doesn’t respond for a second. Slowly, he stands up from the ground. He takes another gulp of the water and swallows it before gripping the edge of the sink. Buck wants to reach out and steady him, but he stops himself. He doesn’t know how Eddie would react to Buck touching him right now. 

Eventually, Eddie shakes his head. “No,” he mumbles. “I’ll go home with Buck.” 

Buck splutters. That was the last thing he was expecting. 

“You sure?” he asks hesitantly. 

But Eddie doesn’t answer this time. He just continues to grip the sink and stare at himself sort of lifelessly in the mirror. Buck doesn’t know what to do. 

“I—I’ll order an Uber,” he says. Eddie only closes his eyes and nods. 

On the whole Uber ride to Buck’s house, Eddie looks like he’s about to be sick again. They’re both sitting in the backseat of the silent ride, only the radio playing softly. Eddie’s eyes are squeezed tight. His fists clench by his side every time their driver takes a too harsh turn. There’s nothing Buck wants more than to offer Eddie his hand to squeeze instead, but he doesn’t. He sits there with his hands in his own lap and helplessly watches Eddie struggle in his peripheral vision. 

The second after Buck closes the car door and thanks the driver, he turns around to find Eddie already hunched over his neighbor’s rose bush, heaving heavily. Buck isn’t surprised by it. He simply rests a hand on Eddie’s back as he empties his stomach again. Buck tries not to laugh when, eventually, Eddie spits one last time and mutters a soft and slightly humorous, “Oh, fuck.” 

After bracing himself, Eddie stands up again. He looks at the state of Buck’s neighbor’s flowers and grimaces. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he says, already lighter than before.

Buck chuckles softly. “It’s alright. Their dog keeps pooping on my lawn anyway.”

Eddie smirks, returning to himself slowly, piece by piece. “That’s karma, then.”

“C’mon, let's get you to bed.” 

As they walk up the path to the house, Buck wants to reach out behind him and grab Eddie’s hand, if just to steady him. 

The worst of it may have passed, but Buck still doesn’t know how welcome Eddie would be to his touch tonight. 

In the light of the entryway, Eddie still looks a little pale. He’s clutching his stomach as he leans against the door. 

“You okay?” Buck asks, filled with concern. 

Eddie hums not so convincingly. “I think I just need to—” he gulps, “stick my head in your toilet for a bit.” 

Somehow, Buck still finds this endearing. “Well, I cleaned it just for you. Enjoy.” As Eddie turns toward his bathroom, the sounds of retching can already be heard. Buck makes his way to the kitchen simply for a breather. 

He wants to ask Eddie what the hell exactly happened tonight, but he can’t really do that when he’s puking into Buck’s toilet. So instead, Buck takes a moment to grip the edge of the kitchen counter, downing a glass of water, then refilling it for Eddie. 

He doesn’t know how the fuck he’s supposed to be normal about Eddie staying in his house after the night they’ve had. He doesn’t know anything about what he’s supposed to do now. 

So to keep his mind at ease, Buck goes to set up the spare bedroom for Eddie. He drops off the glass on the bedside table and grabs the spare blankets from the closet. He tries to keep his mind far away from anything else beyond the task at hand. His brain still feels a bit fuzzy around the edges. All he wants is to sleep this gruelling night off. 

After, Buck finds Eddie in the bathroom still, already brushing his teeth and looking a little more alive. 

When Buck moved into this house months ago, he bought a new pack of toothbrushes. Three, to be exact. One red, one blue, and one purple. It was a better deal than just buying one, and it’s always good to have backups. Except that those two backup toothbrushes were quickly claimed by Eddie and Christopher in Buck’s first week here. 

Just like they should be. 

Eddie attempts a small smile around the red toothbrush when he sees Buck before spitting into the sink. Buck watches as he rinses his mouth out. There’s something funny about seeing Eddie in his space—in the house that Buck bought because he couldn’t bear another day living on Eddie’s couch when he knew that he could never have more. He had to leave before he got too attached.

But the thing is, Buck got too attached to Eddie and Christopher years ago. 

That’s the problem. Buck knows what he wants, but he also knows he cannot have it, and what happened tonight doesn’t prove he can. It was just another reminder of what’s so close in his reach, but still too far to grasp. It will never be enough. 

When Eddie lifts his head again, his gaze meets Buck’s in the mirror. He sends him a confused look. Buck shakes it off and grabs his own toothbrush. 

The two of them are squeezed side-by-side in front of Buck’s bathroom counter as Buck brushes his teeth. Eddie doesn’t need to be here, but still, he doesn’t make a move to go. He simply watches Buck in the mirror, a look in his eyes that Buck tries his hardest to ignore. 

“Do you remember that time,” Eddie breaks the silence, “when Chris had the stomach bug and completely missed the toilet? Just… threw up directly in front of it.” He chuckles lightly. 

Buck continues brushing his teeth as he thinks about it. It was probably eight years ago. He remembers a little Christopher waddling out of his bedroom in the middle of the night while he and Eddie were having a beer on the couch. Chris said he felt sick, and Buck watched as Eddie immediately sprang into action. It wasn’t the first time Buck had been privy to how quickly Eddie would drop everything for Chris, but he remembers it sticking with him for a long time. 

He also remembers Eddie being so focused on making sure that Chris was okay that he left Buck to deal with the cleaning up on his own. He didn’t mind it then, feeling useful in a way he never really felt before at the time. He liked that he got the chance to help Eddie and Chris in that way, even if it meant scrubbing Eddie’s bathroom floor while holding his nose. It felt like an honor. 

“I remember you making me clean it up,” Buck jokes anyway after spitting into the sink. 

“I was making him a ginger tea!” Eddie defends. 

“And left all the dirty work to me.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He seems to be slowly easing back to himself. “You know I don’t do vomit.”

“Does anyone?” Buck says. “Also, you’re the paramedic.” 

“You were willing to,” Eddie replies. He’s rocking back and forth on his feet, a sort of nervous energy radiating off him, almost like shyness. And yet, there’s still a softness under it. An underbelly he’s hesitant to expose. “To clean up my son’s vomit.”

Buck gives him a strange expression, a duh look. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Eddie just shrugs. “We’d only been friends for a few months.” 

“Are you saying you wouldn’t help clean up Denny’s vomit if Hen needed you to?” Buck asks. “Or Jee’s?”

He’s too busy rinsing his mouth in the sink to catch the look Eddie gives him when he says, “It’s different.” 

“How so?” Buck raises his head. 

“They have partners for that,” Eddie answers. 

Buck tilts his head while grabbing his face-towel. He doesn’t get Eddie’s point. “What are you saying?”

“It’s just—Nothing,” Eddie stops himself. 

He turns to leave the bathroom. But Buck’s hot on his tail. He’s plagued with curiosity. He can’t let Eddie go so easily. “Where are you going?” 

Eddie pauses in the hallway. “Uh, the spare bedroom?”

“What?” The words spill out of Buck’s mouth before he can even keep up. “No. Sleep with me.” 

He doesn’t know why he says it. He’s already set up the spare bed for Eddie anyway. Whenever Eddie stays over, he takes the other room, if not the couch when Chris takes it. It’s the exact reason why Buck purposefully bought a house with an extra room—for Eddie and Chris. 

And yet something about tonight makes him not want Eddie to take it. Sleeping in different beds after all that’s happened between them is an out that Buck should probably take. An excuse to cover up their mistakes of today, and yet… he doesn’t want to. 

Despite it all, he doesn’t want to let Eddie out of his sight. Even more so now. 

“Buck,” Eddie sighs from the doorway of the spare bedroom. “I’m not gonna wake you up every time I feel sick.”

“But what if you throw up in your sleep and choke and die on it?” Buck says. “Mmh? You need me to monitor you so that won’t happen.” 

Eddie really looks at him, hard. “You’re not gonna give up, are you, bud?”

Buck shakes his head. “Nope.” 

“Fine,” Eddie relents. He walks the few extra steps to Buck’s room instead. It satisfies something in Buck. 

While Eddie gets situated in the room, changing into one of the many spare pairs of sweatpants he always forgets to take home with him, Buck grabs his water from the other bedroom. When he enters his room, Eddie’s already tucked into the bed with his eyes closed. He’s exhausted, that’s a given, but Buck knows Eddie can’t fall asleep that quickly. But still, he gently places the glass on his bedside table and makes quick work of changing into some comfier clothes, turning away from Eddie. 

Yet when Buck turns back around to get into the bed, Eddie’s already watching him—almost like he’s waiting. Buck swallows and pulls the duvet back. He turns the lamp off and sinks into the bed beside Eddie. He purposefully leaves a gap of space between them and stares up at the ceiling, trying to will his breathing to be normal. He can still feel Eddie’s eyes on him even in the dark. He actively tries to ignore how Eddie’s toe brushes against his shin under the covers. 

“Buck,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. 

Buck exhales before looking over. But Eddie doesn’t speak again. He simply slides in closer, like he has all night, almost like he cannot bear there being an inch between them. He moves in close enough until the tips of his fingers brush against Buck’s arm, stroking delicately. It gives Buck goosebumps. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, eyes pleading. “I’m sorry for tonight.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Eddie,” Buck whispers back instantly. 

Eddie sucks in a breath. He’s frowning a little when he says, “You’re too good for me.” 

Buck doesn’t know how to respond to that. He doesn’t think he can find the words. But it seems like he doesn’t need to. Eddie answers for him, turning into Buck’s side until his head rests on Buck’s chest. Eddie falls into it, placing an arm around Buck’s stomach and nuzzling his face into Buck’s neck. 

Internally, Buck’s freezes, but it appears his body seems to have a mind of its own as it instinctively wraps an arm around Eddie’s back, pulling him in closer. Eddie releases a breath into his neck as Buck feels his eyelashes flutter shut. 

“Goodnight, Buck,” Eddie’s soothing voice mutters directly into his ear. 

Buck stares up at the ceiling, feelings of apprehension swimming in his stomach. “Goodnight,” he manages to choke out. 

When Buck wakes the next morning, he’s alone. The room is still coated in darkness, but the presence that was in the bed with him hours ago is gone. Buck doesn’t realize how much he truly misses it until it’s no longer there. 

He slowly sits up in the bed, head pounding. Just as he considers making his way to the kitchen to find some painkillers, he turns to his bedside table to see a fresh glass of water and two Tylenols sitting there. At that, he suddenly notices the sound of the TV playing softly down the hallway. 

So Eddie didn’t leave him. 

Sluggishly, Buck takes the two tablets and downs the glass of water. He takes a moment to decompose. He doesn’t know what he expects to find awaiting him in the living room—an Eddie who opts to ignore everything that happened last night, or one brave enough to discuss it. Buck doesn’t know which option he fears more. The anticipation of it makes him feel sick. 

Biting the bullet, he makes his way down the hallway into the living room. There he finds Eddie’s back turned to him, sitting on the rug in front of the couch instead of on it. On the coffee table are two plates of scrambled eggs and toast, one dusted with chilli flakes, just how Buck likes it. 

Eddie’s eyes are glued to the TV. Buck’s gaze catches on it, too. 

“Are you seriously watching the Ninja Turtles right now?” 

At that, Eddie finally turns his head to look at Buck. There’s a sense of calmness that crosses his features, like the panic from the night before has vanished. He looks better too, less green around the gills. 

“It’s Saturday morning cartoons,” Eddie says as he grabs a pillow from the couch and drops it beside him. “I didn’t pick the show.”

“But you made breakfast?” Buck asks in slight disbelief while rounding the couch. 

Eddie grins shyly. “‘Course. Did you take the painkillers?”

It’s a lot for Buck to process right now, Eddie’s kind gestures. The small ways he shows his care for Buck. A sleep-in. Painkillers and water for the inevitable headache. Breakfast made just how he likes it. That, mixed in with the night before, has Buck feeling torn up inside. The feelings he keeps denying himself from having are threatening to escape. 

 “Y—Yeah. Thanks,” Buck stutters. He sits down slowly on the pillow beside Eddie, stretching out his left leg. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“You took care of me, now it’s my turn.” Eddie smiles at him, then points to the plate. “Eat, Buck.”

For a while they sit in silence and eat their breakfast, eyes locked onto the TV. The silence isn’t bad, but it’s comfortable instead—just two people who understand each other more than anyone else. 

Buck breaks the quiet. “Is this the series you like?” 

Eddie chuckles lightly. “Yeah, the 2012 one.” He takes a bite of his toast before explaining, “Back in El Paso, when Chris was still a kid and Shannon had already left, we used to watch it together.”

“You and Chris?”

“Yeah. Kinda,” Eddie says. “More like I watched it while trying to get him to sleep. It was the only thing that would make him fall asleep, for some reason.”

Buck turns to look at him. “I… didn’t know that.” Which is a shock. He’s kind of an expert on all things regarding the Diaz boys, yet he still loves finding out new things about them. 

Still, a part of him wishes he could have been there then, too. 

Eddie shrugs. “I guess when we moved here, he got too used to your bedtime stories.”

At that, Buck grins. “He always said I did the voices better than you.”

Eddie nods. “Sometimes on nights you weren’t there, he’d beg for you to come over to read to him.”

Buck considers this for a moment. He also never knew that. 

God, what he could’ve done to be there. 

“You could’ve called me,” he says. “I would’ve come.” If given the chance, Buck would’ve dropped everything to read Chris a bedtime story again.

Eddie sucks in a breath. He looks up at Buck and murmurs, “I know.”

The look in his eyes feels too honest. Buck shudders under it. 

He can’t fuck this up. 

“Eddie, about last night—”

“You know that last night wasn’t the first time we’ve kissed?” Eddie cuts him off suddenly. 

Buck splutters, letting the words sink in. 

That… doesn’t make any sense. 

“What?” he chokes. 

Eddie nods. His eyes dance in the space between them to avoid meeting Buck’s blown wide ones. “Yeah. I didn’t think you’d remember. I barely did.”

Buck furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?” Surely this is something he’d remember. 

Eddie lets out a sigh and gives in. “Chim’s Bachelor party.”

Buck pauses. He tries to rack his brain. That was almost two years ago. In the aftermath, Buck was concerned with a lot more things beyond whatever the hell he got up to while drunk. Besides Chimney going missing, he’s never really thought much deeply about what occurred that night.

Maybe he should have. 

“I only realized way after the fact, but—” Eddie shakes his head. Buck can’t tell if it’s regret Eddie’s feeling or something else. “I know we kissed at some point that night. Maybe more.”

Buck thinks hard. So much of that night is a blur. 

He remembers music and dancing and an Uber. He remembers the hotel room being packed to the brim. He remembers taking too many shots. 

He remembers following Eddie into the bathroom—the very bathroom he found Eddie asleep in the next morning. 

He has fuzzy memories of Eddie holding his hand as he dragged Buck in. At that point, his shirt was already missing. Buck remembers being distracted because of it. He could barely contain himself from reciprocating when Eddie shoved him against the bathroom door and kissed the breath out of him.

Huh. Deja vu. 

“Oh, my god,” Buck exclaims the moment he remembers. He can feel his face burning red. “I’m never drinking again.”

Eddie chuckles lightly. “Yeah, you said that then, too.” 

“I—I remember now.”

Eddie gazes up at him again through his lashes. Buck suddenly recalls it being the exact same look Eddie gave him that night. 

Suddenly, he gasps, coming to another realization. “I cheated on Tommy.”

Eddie huffs. “You were hardly dating then.”

“Still!” Buck turns to him. “You cheated on Marisol.” 

Eddie grimaces. “Yeah. She deserved better.”

“Why—” Buck swallows, calming himself down. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eddie avoids looking at him, staring at the TV instead, but his gaze is unfocused. He fidgets with the tassels on the pillow Buck sits on. “We were both in other relationships. It wasn’t the right time.”

“But then we weren’t,” Buck points out. “Neither of us has been in a relationship for a year.”

“I know,” Eddie whispers. He stares down at his lap instead of at Buck. “I guess I was just… scared,” he confesses with a shrug. “Of what it meant that kissing you meant more to me than it did with anyone else. It’s never felt that way before.”

Buck sees the weariness in him. He knows it takes a lot for Eddie to be this vulnerable with what he wants. So Buck decides to be bold. He takes a risk, praying that it’ll pay off.

He grabs hold of the hand in Eddie’s lap, the one fidgeting incessantly, and pulls it into his own. Immediately, Eddie’s grip tightens, interlocking their fingers together. “It’s never felt that way for me with anyone else before either,” Buck admits. 

The look that Eddie gives him is almost enough to bring Buck to tears. There’s a softness in his eyes reminiscent of childlike joy. Buck adores it. 

“Really?” Eddie asks like he can’t really believe it. 

Buck nods. “Eddie, you're—” He releases a breath. “You’re kind of amazing.”

In an instant, Eddie’s cheeks heat up. He turns shy, but still manages to say, “You’re not too bad yourself,” while stroking the back of Buck’s hand.

Buck doesn’t think he’s ever felt this joyful—this loved. 

“Oh, really?” he teases back, smiling low. “Don’t you remember what you said last night? Right before you fell asleep?”

“I remember everything about last time,” Eddie says. The confession makes Buck’s breath hitch. Eddie notices. He scrambles to apologize. “I’m sorry that I kissed you.”

But Buck shakes his head. There’s not a single part of the night before that he would take back. Sure, it was a little… unconventional, but it cemented this for them. He doesn’t regret it. “I’m not.” 

Eddie shudders. “Well, I—I’m not sorry I did it. I’m sorry I did it without talking to you first. I didn’t mean to spring that on you.”

Buck shrugs his shoulders. “I wasn’t complaining.”

“I know you weren’t,” Eddie says. He’s still fiddling with Buck’s hand, caressing it absent-mindedly in a way both of them find soothing. “But I know you, Buck. I know you were spiraling.”

“I wouldn’t say spiraling—”

“You were spiraling,” Eddie insists. “But I—I just—” He takes a breath, once again avoiding eye contact. Buck has to chase his gaze for it. “I wanted it so bad. It felt so… Right. It felt whole. I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t even think straight.”

Buck inches in a breath closer. “Me neither,” he whispers low. “I can never think straight when it comes to you.” Uncontrollable laughter suddenly takes over Eddie. Buck furrows his brows. “What?”

“Think straight,” Eddie emphasizes. 

Once he gets it, Buck lets out the biggest eye roll. “Are you making a gay joke right now?”

“Can’t think straight ‘cause I’m not,” Eddie claims through giggles. It’s so stupid, and it shouldn’t make Buck feel as proud as it does, but he can’t help it. Eddie, unchained and willing to joke through the things that Buck knows scare him, makes him proud. 

“This is the worst way to come out.” Buck laughs along anyway. “Through a dad joke.”

Eddie shrugs. “Feels fitting.” 

And it does. Buck only wants to see Eddie this way—free and happy in a dumb way. With his dad jokes and all. Unapologetically him. His stupid best friend, whom he’s in love with. 

Buck’s laughter quietens down as he grabs control of Eddie’s hand again, intertwining their fingers. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you,” he says.

Eddie blushes, trying to hide his grin. “Thanks, I—Um, I needed some time to figure it out.”

“That’s okay,” Buck insists. “And you’re ready now?”

Even if he wasn’t, Buck would be willing to wait. He’d wait his whole life for Eddie Diaz. 

But Eddie nods, drawing in an unsteady breath. Buck sees beneath the surface. He sees Eddie pushing against the fear that threatens to overtake him. “I think I am.” Eddie corrects himself, “I wanna be. I’m tired of holding back.” 

“You don’t have to hold back with me. I’ve got your back. Always.” 

“I know you do.” Eddie releases the grip on Buck’s hand in favor of his wrist and tugs him in closer. “I love you. I love everything about you,” he whispers.

Buck willingly moves in. His breath shudders against Eddie’s cheek, blowing his eyelashes. Eddie chuckles lightly, then pulls Buck in to kiss him again. It’s different from each kiss they’ve shared from the night before. Not like the first one, too quick to feel much, and not like the second, too hungry. It’s soft and syrupy. Real and right. A motion of the love that’s been building between them for eight years. 

Eddie reaches up to cup Buck’s jaw as he nips Buck’s lip. Buck’s smile grows too wide as he sinks into Eddie. “I love you, too,” he says once they’re separated, but only by inches. Eddie’s cheeks tint a light pink. Buck grips his palm over Eddie’s cheek just to feel the heat beneath his fingers. 

Unable to contain himself, Eddie drags Buck back in. His hand settles on the back of Buck’s head, tangling in the hairs there and pulling him in. The sweetness from before evaporates, replaced by that hunger from last night.

“Eddie,” Buck moans as Eddie’s lips travel to his throat, kissing over the marks Buck’s sure he left last night from how hard he was biting Buck. “If you’re trying to get in my pants again, can we at least move it to the bedroom this time?” he says through stuttered breath. 

Looking up again for a moment, Eddie chuckles. He reaches out and traces the tip of his finger against Buck’s cheekbones, the point of his nose where it blends slightly, his birthmark. Buck’s eyes threaten to close from the sensation. It’s so gentle and so kind. Nobody has ever touched him this way before—filled with so much love.

“We can never tell Ravi about that.”

“He’d fucking murder us,” Buck says. “It’s your fault, y’know.”

“I know,” Eddie says like the smug bastard he is before dipping back down and pressing his lips to Buck’s pulse point, sucking it hard. “I couldn’t contain myself. You looked so good, and you tasted even better.”

“Eddie—”

“You drive me crazy, Buck. I needed you so bad,” he heaves. His lips travel to the spot just below Buck’s ear that spurs his dick to wake up in his pants. 

“We need to go to the bedroom,” Buck huffs. His back won’t handle fucking on the floor. “Now.”

Eddie exhales before muttering, “Fine.” With much restraint, as well as Buck practically shoving him off, Eddie stands up. It reminds Buck of the night before—Eddie standing in front of him, looking down with those pleading eyes, begging to come to the bathroom with him. If only Buck knew then what that would lead him to. 

Eddie sticks out his hand. Like yesterday, Buck takes it. 

“Do I get to actually make you come this time?” he teases as Eddie pulls him to his feet. 

Eddie lets out a loud laugh but says, “Only if you’re good.”

“Eddie,” Buck groans again. 

“Fine, quit your whining.”

The smug smile on Buck’s face is almost unbearable. He follows Eddie down the hallway to the bedroom, a pep in his step and an excitement that’s unattainable. “You love my whining. You love everything about me,” he sings proudly. 

Eddie tugs on his hand and pulls him through the bedroom door. “I do,” he says, nothing less than the truth, before pushing Buck onto the bed and climbing on top of him. “I really do.”