Work Text:
It had been a difficult few weeks.
That was an understatement, really. Eddie had been through tough times before– more than the average person, certainly– but he had never felt so off kilter.
He was starting to figure his life out with Christopher in El Paso, but Bobby died, so they came back. He accepted a job back in El Paso, but Chimney made a passionate enough speech to convince him to stay. He was starting to get through the day without the painful reminder of Bobby’s absence, but then the man came back.
Needless to say, he could use a break.
Naturally Buck decided to… be Buck.
Eddie said that affectionately, of course.
All he really wanted was a few nights at home on the couch, watching a movie or playing games with his boys– with Christopher and Buck. His family. But Buck had been so full on about trying to find a new place now that Eddie and Christopher were back permanently that he had been either too busy or too tired for the last few days.
The worst part was, Buck didn’t even need to move. At no point had Eddie ever even implied that he did– Buck had just done the thing he always did and assumed. Like always, it made everything more difficult. Eddie loved the man, really, but he needed to start asking before he decided for everyone else what was best for them.
Because what was best for Eddie was Buck staying.
Eddie groaned, sitting on the couch– his couch again; Buck had put all of his furniture in storage before Eddie could even try to bring up merging some of their things together. The house was just as it had been before, even with most of their things still in boxes. Somehow it still felt wrong.
When he had come back to LA– back home– Eddie had truly felt like the house was theirs. His same house full of Buck’s things, Christopher’s laughter ringing down the hall, Buck in the kitchen making them dinner as Eddie picked out a movie. It was like it had always been except better, because Buck didn’t leave at the end of the day.
Instead, Eddie got to wake up each morning to Buck coming out of the bedroom, his hair a tangled mass of curls and his eyes still bleary with sleep. The idea that Buck was trying to deprive him of that view– he wouldn’t stand for it.
It hadn’t taken much convincing to get Christopher to go to a friend’s house for the night, even if he needed to dodge all of his son’s probing questions about why he wanted alone time with Buck.
He had intended to plan out something to say to Buck– something big, and emotional, something that would appeal to Buck’s dramatic tendencies– but he had gotten so sidetracked with his frustration at the ease with which Buck had removed his things from their home that he didn’t quite manage to get to it in time.
A key turned in the lock on the front door before it swung open, Buck’s slouched frame trudging into the room and dropping onto the couch beside Eddie.
“No luck?” Eddie asked dryly, quietly pleased at the defeat dimming Buck’s usually bright eyes.
“None,” Buck grumbled, his head tipping back on the couch, lolling limply to the side so he could continue to look at Eddie. “I swear the rental market wasn’t this bad when I was looking last time.”
Closing his eyes to avoid rolling them, Eddie cleared his throat. “There’s no rush, you know. I like having you here.”
“Right,” Buck agreed flippantly, “I’m sure you do, but you and Christopher deserve your own space– hell, the couch must be doing terrible things to your back. You’re getting too old for this, you know.”
Eddie reopened his eyes to glare at Buck half-heartedly, unable to put any actual heat behind the look when faced with Buck’s teasing grin. “Ha ha, Buck. Seriously, I like having you here– it’s been really nice. You don’t have to run out the door.” No matter how hard he tried to sound earnest, he could see in Buck’s eyes that the man wasn’t really taking him seriously.
“Just because I didn’t have any luck today doesn’t mean I’m going to, like… settle on a bad apartment to get out of your hair. I’m taking my time, Eddie, I swear. I know how to find a place to live; I’m a grown man.”
Groaning, Eddie ran a hand through his hair as he shifted on the couch to face Buck better. “That’s not what I’m trying to say at all,” he insisted, “I’m just saying– you’ve been spending all your time recently on finding a place to live. Why not stay where you’re already living?”
Silence hung in the air for a moment, Buck’s eyebrows drawing together as he seemingly tried to piece together what Eddie was getting at. Eddie shifted his weight awkwardly, half-wishing he was standing so he could pace the room. “I miss you, is all,” he said eventually, his voice soft, “you’ve been out trying to find somewhere to live all day, and even when you’re home you’re looking at stupid apartment ads–”
“Woah, woah,” Buck cut in, his eyes wide, “what’s this really about, Eddie?”
Eddie stood abruptly, unable to hold in the restless energy that had been thrumming in his body since Buck left again that morning. “Why do you want to leave so bad, anyway?” he asked, well aware that his voice sounded too sharp. “I don’t want you to ‘get out of my hair,’ I want you to– to just stay. Here. With me and Christopher.”
There was a warmth in Eddie’s face, something he couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t sure if he was so flushed because he was embarrassed about talking about his feelings, or if some part of him was angry at Buck for trying to leave him.
“I wanted you to stay,” Buck muttered, his face tilted down, “but you left. You needed to leave, and I understood that. Maybe I need to leave, too.”
Eddie froze, his chest growing tight. Buck needed to leave? Suddenly it felt like their conversation was escalating far too quickly. “I– why?” he asked incredulously, dropping back onto the couch beside Buck and trying desperately to meet his downturned eyes. Had Buck realized the same thing Eddie had? That Eddie had not entirely platonic feelings for him? What if he was uncomfortable?
“Don’t worry about it, Eddie,” Buck said, finally lifting his head. Eddie frowned at the look on his best friend’s face, something set in the thin line of his lips that he had never seen. “I just need some space, I think.”
“Space from me?” Eddie asked, unable to stop the way his voice broke. Any time they had fought in the past, they had never needed space from each other. They often fought because there was too much space. The idea that Buck wanted to be away from him– it was unthinkable. It hurt.
Buck's smile was thin, a brittle, fake thing that Eddie had never had aimed at him before. “I’m sure you want some space, too. You know, your own house to yourself again. Must not be fun sleeping on the couch.”
Frustrated, Eddie threw his hands in the air. “I don’t care about the damn couch,” he shouted. Taking a moment to reign himself in, he continued more softly, “I don’t want more space, I don’t want you to leave– hell, if me sleeping on the couch is a problem I’d be happy to share the bed! Buck, I– I want to be near you all the time.”
The silence in the room was thick once Eddie was finished, broken only by his heavy breathing. There was a faint whirring in the background, something that was likely the fridge but that Eddie decided to attribute to the cogs in Buck’s brain finally turning.
“You would share the bed with me?”
Eddie laughed softly, leaning towards Buck helplessly. “That’s seriously what you took from that?”
A real smile was growing on Buck’s face, some of the light returning to his eyes. “I don’t know, it kind of stuck out,” he teased, “I didn’t realize it was possible to want more of me when we’re already living together.”
“I want all of you,” Eddie said seriously, “c’mon, man, how have you not figured that one out?”
“I guess I was too focused on how I want more of you,” Buck said, swaying closer to Eddie.
Eddie’s chest felt tight again, but this time in a different way. He was struggling to take in a good breath from the whiplash of the conversation, a fluttering rising from his stomach into his lungs as his heart pounded. “Buck,” he whispered, his eyes flickering down to the man’s lips, “I can’t afford to read this wrong.”
“I want you to share the bed,” Buck said simply, his hand reaching out to rest on Eddie’s knee, both of them turning to face each other on the couch. “I want to wake up beside you, and make breakfast for you and Christopher, and just– be with you. All the time.”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathed, relief coloring his tone, “I love you, too.”
With that, he leaned forward, capturing Buck’s lips with his own. The kiss was soft, their lips fitting together perfectly. It was exactly how Eddie had imagined it– like coming home.
They separated slowly, the warmth of their shared breath making Eddie’s heart race even faster. “Was that… okay?” he asked carefully, some anxiety seeping into him. He could have just ruined everything, destroyed their entire friendship, ruined one of the largest parts of his and Christopher’s lives–
“That was perfect, get back here right now,” Buck said, his hands reaching out towards Eddie’s shoulders to yank him back in. It wasn’t much of a kiss, both of them grinning too widely into it, their teeth clacking against each other painfully. Even still, it was perfect. It was them.
“I love you,” Buck murmured into the kiss, “I just realized I didn’t say it back.”
Eddie pulled back again, his heart fluttering at the irritated whine Buck let out. “You did. Just not in those words.” And he had, really– in the most Buck Buckley way possible, he had. “So you’re going to stay, right?”
“You sure you don’t want me to move out? It might be a bit much, us getting together and moving in straight away.” Buck’s face was drawn tight again, his fingers twisting into Eddie’s shirt nervously.
“Buck,” Eddie sighed fondly, unable to stop himself, “I’m sure. I want you to leave for just long enough to get all your things from whatever storage unit you put them in, and then I want you to come straight back so we can fight over who’s plates are better.”
“Mine, obviously,” Buck said easily, his head falling forward to rest with his forehead pressed next to his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
Rolling his eyes, Eddie shifted them on the couch until they were essentially cuddling. “Yeah, sure. Mine are better; they have character.”
“Chips and cracks, you mean,” Buck snarked.
“Chips and cracks from a life lived with myself and my son,” Eddie argued, knowing he had won with that.
“Yeah, yeah,” Buck muttered, springing off the couch suddenly. “Let’s go, then. We can drop my plates off at Goodwill on the way back.”