Chapter Text
Buck’s not sure what makes him wake up, but he knows what keeps him awake; the slam of his door and the curses currently erupting from downstairs.
The voice is Eddie’s, and Buck’s not expecting the way he looks. He’s wearing a shirt and pants, dirty and gross and Buck frowns. “Did you come straight from work?”
“Buck?” Eddie asks, jerking up from the island he’s currently plastered against.
Buck thinks he’s drunk, but he can see the trembles wracking Eddie’s frame, the dark smudges beneath his eyes. He knows Eddie’s been on a long shift, the days before jampacked with trips and Christopher and work, work, work. He’s gotta be exhausted.
“Hey Eddie,” Buck says.
Eddie stumbles a little as he straightens up, taking a few steps towards Buck and then pausing. “You okay?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Buck doesn’t want to sound so amused, but he can’t help himself. “You wanna get some sleep?”
“M’not tired,” Eddie says, slumping against Buck. His face mashes against the curve of Buck’s jaw and it’s gross. Buck rolls his eyes but doesn’t try to shove Eddie away.
He likes it.
Something’s settled between them since Christmas, easing back into their friendship like all the shit since the truck bombing is nothing. Buck knows that’s mostly wishful thinking. Nightmares about the tsunami, awkwardness with Bobby, and the aches in his leg when it’s cold are all huge obstacles. It’s easy to forget about it all when Eddie’s around, though. When he’s got Christopher tucked up on the couch and they’re all safe.
“You can tell me about how tired you aren’t,” Buck says, hauling Eddie up and getting a better grip on his waist, “while I carry you to bed.”
“Yours?” Eddie asks. When Buck looks, he’s got a little furrow between his brows, endearingly confused.
Buck snorts gently, managing to get them both up the stairs without injury. “You are at my apartment, Eddie.”
Eddie blinks at him, at the bed, and then back over his shoulder. “I am?”
“You are.” Buck wants to laugh, but he can’t bring himself to. It’s not often Eddie will let himself be so vulnerable in front of Buck. He seems to have this need to be the strong one, to stand between those he loves and the world, and it breaks Buck’s heart that he won’t allow anyone to do that for him. Buck will always do it if given half the chance.
For Eddie, there’s precious little he won’t do.
“Come on, Eddie,” he says gently, guiding Eddie to the bathroom. He presses down on Eddie’s shoulders until he sits on the toilet, leaning heavily against Buck’s stomach. Buck gives in to the urge and runs a hand through Eddie’s hair, scratches lightly at his scalp. The soft noise Eddie lets out makes Buck’s heart skip. “You want a shower?”
“Wanna sleep,” Eddie slurs.
Buck smiles gently, his other hand slipping beneath the collar of Eddie’s shirt, running over the muscles of his back. Eddie’s wound tight, always so tense, and Buck wishes he could take some of the stress away. “Thought you weren’t tired.”
“M’now,” Eddie mumbles, hands coming up to Buck’s waist. His grip is tight despite his exhaustion. “You’re here.”
It’s honest in a way Buck doesn’t expect. He wants to say something, but his throat won’t work. He settles for running the tap, warming the water. “I’m just gonna clean you up, okay?”
Eddie pulls back, blinking with half-lidded eyes. “Buck?”
“Yeah,” Buck says, and he doesn’t mean to laugh, but Eddie looks - well, adorable.
“Why am I in your apartment?”
Buck crouches in front of Eddie, suddenly concerned. “You here with me, Eddie?”
Eddie opens his mouth, stares around the bathroom, and then back at Buck. “I don’t remember driving here.”
Something in Buck’s chest breaks and he presses his hands to Eddie’s face, fingers brushing over his dirty cheekbones. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know where Eddie’s come from, or what he’s been doing. The streetfighting is over, that much Buck knows. There are other ways to relieve your stress, though. Other ways to hurt yourself without actively getting punched and Buck knows from experience their job can do that all too easily. “Eddie.”
“I lied,” Eddie says slowly. His eyes are dark, his hands moving to Buck’s arms, though Buck doesn’t know if he wants to push Buck away or pull him closer. He doesn’t think Eddie knows himself. “I’m so tired, Buck.”
“I know,” Buck whispers, and pulls Eddie forward until Eddie’s head is against his shoulder. Eddie lets out a soft noise, maybe a sob, and then clings to Buck’s back. “I’ve got you, Eddie, I promise.”
Eddie says nothing. He’s breathing hotly against Buck’s neck, wet and gross, but Buck holds on nonetheless. He keeps Eddie upright on the toilet seat and cradles the back of Eddie’s head like he’s precious.
And he is.
“I was,” Eddie starts, and he sounds a little more awake. Buck doesn’t trust it, refuses to let him go. “I can’t stop getting things wrong.”
Buck pulls his head back. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought,” Eddie starts, refusing to meet Buck’s eyes. His fingers dig into Buck’s arms, leaning into Buck’s grip. “I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“This,” Eddie says, and he looks between them at the floor.
Buck wants to make a joke, the words the bathroom on his tongue, but he can’t do that, won’t let himself turn Eddie’s vulnerability into a joke. “Us?”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, and when he finally meets Buck’s eyes, they’re wet and shiny. Buck’s heart breaks all over again, but Eddie’s still talking, looking panicked. “I thought I knew who I was, what I wanted, but there’s you, Buck. You’re so - you love me and I’m scared of that because everyone leaves. I’m not,” Eddie sucks in a breath, tone wavering, “I’m not enough for anyone.”
Buck stands, taking Eddie with him. He wraps Eddie up in his arms and though Eddie shakes in his grip, he takes the comfort Buck’s providing. He slides his hands up Buck’s back, fisting them in Buck’s shirt.
“I need you to listen to me,” Buck says, and Eddie makes an assenting noise into his shoulder. “Whatever put those thoughts in your head is valid, Eddie, I’m not saying it’s not. God knows I hate myself enough to understand that, but you’re enough for me.”
Eddie makes another noise, but Buck pulls back, forces Eddie to meet his eyes.
“You’ve always been enough for me. Your friendship - I know we’ve had problems, but I’m so damned lucky you chose the 118. I’m lucky my ridiculous peacocking shit didn’t shove you away. You, Eddie Diaz, will always be enough for me.”
“Buck, you can’t-” Eddie starts.
“No, Eddie.” Buck hardens his tone. “I promise that it’s never you. People have their own issues, man, their own hangups, but none of that is on you. You’re the best thing in my life bar Christopher.”
Eddie’s face does something complicated, his eyes bright. “I love you.”
Buck smiles gently because he’s not sure what to do with that. Eddie’s telling the truth - Buck knows what that looks like - but he doesn’t want Eddie to regret what he says when he’s dead on his feet. “I love you too.”
“I mean it,” Eddie says, but his eyes are slipping closed again.
Taking pity on him, Buck walks them into the bedroom, ignoring the fact that he’s gonna have to wash the sheets and probably shower them both in the morning, but Eddie’s not gonna make it much longer.
“Come on,” he says, gently easing Eddie into the bed. Eddie doesn’t let go of him, making it awkward, but he manages to shuffle next to him until he’s comfortable. Eddie immediately latches on to his side, head pillowed on Buck’s shoulder, and Buck holds him close, buries his nose in Eddie’s hair. It’s smoky, a little dusty from whatever he did last on shift, and Buck’s so pathetically grateful he’s here.
“I’ll say it in the morning,” Eddie says.
Buck says nothing, just holds Eddie a little tighter. Perhaps he will. Maybe he won’t. Buck knows better than to hope for things just out of his reach. He strokes a hand over Eddie’s back, not sure he knows what the feelings currently crushing his chest are.
Love, definitely.
Hope, despite his own misgivings.
A want so strong he almost chokes with it.
Eddie’s breath evens out into sleep, and Buck runs a finger down his temple, the line of his nose. Eddie twitches but doesn’t wake up. It’s not often Buck gets to see this, not even when they nap at the station. There’s a wall between Eddie and what he’s willing to show, what he’s willing to give up (never his pride).
But here, in the privacy of his own room, Buck can almost believe this is something he can have in the long term. If he’s careful. If he lets Eddie lead.
If Eddie means it when he says I love you with that look in his eyes.
Buck’s not used to getting what he wants and he won’t ever ask for anything again if it means he gets to have Eddie and Christopher for good.