Archive of Our Own ^beta

Eddie doesn't get drunk often nor easily.

He's quite confident when he affirms he’s never been a lightweight, though he's tried to avoid (heavy) drinking as much as possible these last few years. Drinking and being ready for an emergency at any point isn't a good mix. One beer here and there, though? That, Eddie can allow himself to have. And he honestly likes it, why lie?

Today is Buck's birthday party, however. So he can drink a little more than usual. It's fine. It's summer, it's hot, he really thinks some beer could do him some good. On top of that, Eddie is with friends, he really enjoys spending time with said friends, and there's no other shift for the next seventy-two hours. 

Eddie can drink. It will be fine. He can let loose.

They are at Chim and Maddie's house, because Buck is still looking for his own place, and honestly Eddie's house can feel a bit too crowded if he brings in the entirety of their team, plus Maddie and Karen. With Chris on a sleepover, Athena on patrol, and Jee and the baby already asleep as cute little rocks, the party starts in a very chill way.

Well… for Buck. A chill way for Buck.

“What are we, teens?” Hen snorts, seeing the box Buck is bringing out and setting on top of the table.

“We could be. For a night,” he says, big bright grin plastered on his face. Eddie is quite sure he could illuminate Los Angeles with that smile, next time there’s a power outage the 118 can just offer him as a substitute. 

“Why did you even keep this?” She keeps asking, baffled. “I would have thrown it away years ago.”

“I almost did, but it somehow survived at the bottom of one of the boxes I never unpacked.”

“From… your first move?” Karen asks. “Buck? When you moved out from that pseudo frat house? That move?”

Buck doesn't answer. Eddie is about to let out a laugh, but he contains himself.

“Are you aware I'm your boss now?” Chim points out.

“Not yet, no you aren't. You are still on paternity leave,” Chim is about to protest, but Buck sees it coming and continues. “Come oooon, Chim! It's just a night! And if we really don't want to answer or do whatever the hell this says, we can just take another card,” he insists.

Eddie is not protesting. He knows how Buck is when he gets an idea stuck in his head. It’s adorably annoying, in a way. He’s next to him, arms touching, and it’s not really a physical thing but he can feel his excitement. It’s like he’s vibrating. Kind of cute.

If Buck wants to play truth or dare until 4am with a box of pre-written questions and suggestions for early teens, then Eddie is just going to say that at least they don't have to specifically think how they are going to humiliate their coworkers (and future boss).

“Or! If we don't want to do whatever, we can always drink instead,” Maddie suggests. Everyone seems to agree, though Ravi looks like he's about to vomit already. Not like he is drunk, not at all. Eddie is pretty sure he hasn't had anything to drink. He's the unspoken-designated driver, and he seems to have accepted his destiny with enough resignation.

The dinner itself goes well. Almost too well, and Eddie thinks between laughing and joking and teasing (and already drinking a bit) that everyone might forget Buck's silly idea. Buck included.

Just after blowing the candles from a cake Jee seems to have decorated herself —there are no discernible words, just some clunky drawn colorful flowers and hearts—, however, Buck brings out the little box once again. Maddie gets wine, beers, and some other alcohol that Eddie ends up not remembering, and with that and a literal piece of cake they are all set around the table.

“The birthday boy starts,” Maddie smiles. “Truth or dare?”

“Okay, okay, let's start slowly. Truth,” he snorts like it's nothing. Like he’s a teen again, playing this silly game for the first time at a sleepover, and it’s strangely endearing.

“Okay…” Maddie picks out of the cards. She makes a face, “‘What’s the longest you’ve ever slept’? Really?”

“Oh, you are taking the tame ones,” Buck explains.

“This is basically for kids, everything has to be tame,” Karen deadpans.

“No, no, I swear, it depends on the end of the box you pick, I used to play this a lot with my old roommates,” Buck explains, but Karen still looks skeptical.

“Well,” Maddie starts. “I thought it was kind to start there, but if you want me to—”

“Sixteen hours. Not counting the times I’ve been in a coma,” Buck interrupts.

“I don’t think you should count those times,” Ravi says. He’s not playing, obviously, he has to drive later, and honestly he’s already been through too much with this group of people. No one has a problem giving him a rest.

“Yeah, me neither, really. So. Sixteen hours.”

They move on from the “tame” cards as no one has any problem talking about the boldest pick-up line they’ve ever used or daring to roast someone else in the room for thirty seconds. No one is drinking enough, Hen complains, and Buck seconds it. Eddie is drinking alright, anyway, questions asked or not.

Slowly but surely, though, everyone starts truly drinking. Not because the cards are wild, but because many of them are… no . Just, no. They are not doing that. Hen drinks when she refuses to let Chimney draw in her face with a marker; Chim, when he refuses to lick a bar of soap. Maddie doesn't want to prank call a family member, as Buck isn't an option. Karen is too tired to do thirty squats and besides, she's been drinking for a bit regardless of the game. It wouldn't end well, and a little more alcohol in her system can't be that bad.

“What's something you are thankful your mom doesn't know about you?” Hen reads.

A half-formed, vague suspicion that only surfaces when Eddie is drunk appears in his brain. He won’t even remember the next morning, he never does. As if learned, he pushes it away. Eddie is going to have to drink to that.

Sometimes, when a card comes up that is actually fun, they do what it says. Buck sings a poor rendition of a Beatles song Eddie won't remember, but the glint in Buck’s eyes as he sings will be kept forever in some remote place of Eddie’s heart. Hen doesn't mind giving Chim a massage on the shoulders, and Chim is pleased enough by this. Karen eats a raw onion (‘What? I actually like it’). Maddie compliments everyone in the room (‘You have a nice jaw’, she tells Eddie, and Eddie can only shrug because, okay, yeah? He does have a great jaw). And finally, no one has to convince Chim to do the plank for… too long, that's certainly too long. Maybe he fell asleep for a bit?

These are still very much tame. But once in a while a weird one comes around and—

Eddie gets dared to call everyone ‘baby’ for a whole turn. He drinks again, under everyone’s protests.

“Have you even… done anything?” Hen asks. “Like, damn, we said we were playing this to drink, but Eddie—”

“I’m fine,” Eddie shrugs. “I can stomach more.”

Hen looks at him with an arching eyebrow as his vision trembles. Yeah. He’s kind of starting to feel something. It’s been two beers already. Wait, no. It's been more. He had some more during dinner. And this one might be his… fourth. Fourth? In the game.

Eddie… Eddie has the fleeting thought that maybe he's more drunk than he originally thought.

He's done worse. He's done worse. This is nothing.

“Next card, whatever it is, you do it,” Buck says to his left, and Eddie shrugs because yeah, sure. 

“It's his birthday, you have to do it,” Maddie adds. Insistent. He feels some hair falling on his forehead. Hmmm, distracting.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie accepts with a sigh, head flopping to the side and falling on Buck’s shoulder, comfortable. Buck doesn’t move away, and honestly his shoulder is comfortable. A lot of muscle, but Eddie’s head fits in there just fine.

The round passes before Eddie's eyes in a blur, both literally and figuratively. Chim picks up a random dare card —they aren't even asking him what he wants— for him and maybe Eddie isn't in his right mind right now, but he can tell something is weird.

“Come on, read it,” Hen insists. Ravi reads over Chim's shoulder and he arches his eyebrows.

“Oh, ehm… this says, ‘kiss the cheek of the person to your left ’. I must have grabbed one of the… boring ones,” Chim's brow furrow in confusion, looking at the card's designation attentively. 

Eddie doesn't get to hear if it's a boring one or not, because he straightens up and looks to his left and ah, he almost forgot. That is Buck to his left. His head has been on his shoulder for the past, what, five minutes? Yes, it’s been. There he is, Buck, who is far less drunk, looking at him with big blue eyes, birthday boy. Slightly open-mouthed, almost smiling, and Eddie looks at his lips, and they seem… nice. Buck has such nice lips, that is… that's…

“Oh, well, Eddie, you can do that, right?” He vaguely hears Maddie saying. “It's just a kiss on the cheek.”

Eddie is about to protest, say something about how he's not that drunk, he's done worse, but he thinks he's not saying anything. He's pretty sure, however, that there is this weird wormy feeling that settles in his stomach.

If… that even exists. A wormy feeling. Wooormy. It really feels like a worm, or a snake, or… something that twists in there. Maybe it's just the alcohol. Though he is… he is not that drunk. No. Maybe he wants to puke?

Someone else is talking, but Eddie is focused on the worm and oh, he's still looking at Buck's lips. Why is he looking at Buck's lips. So soft. So plush. It would feel so great to kiss them, bet he’s an amazing kisser, his stubble scratching his chin, his tongue licking and—

—Wait, no? What the hell is he thinking? That's not even a kiss anymore. Is… it? And it's on the cheek. It's on the cheek. He has two, Eddie can choose which one he prefers, even. But no, there he is, still stuck on his pink lips, unable to look away. He wants to look away, Eddie knows he's being weird, but he… can't? The fuck is wrong with him?

Before he knows what he's doing, he's taking a sip of his beer. A long one.

He hears groans, but he can only look at Buck's expression, eyes still stuck on him. Eddie sees something shift in Buck's face, but he can't really discern it behind the fog that envelops his brain.

He pushes it all away as they continue playing the game.

Between the painful throbs, his brain has seared in fire the image of Buck's lips, a small smile beginning to appear on them. 

Fuck. Still too foggy to distinguish what was going on in there.

It's morning, Eddie knows that. The light that seeps between the closed curtains of his room tells him as much. When in the morning? He hasn't had the courage nor the strength to look at his watch, or at his phone, but lacking the unmistakable sound of the buttons of a game controller being pressed, he guesses it's early enough for Chris not to be home yet.

Which makes sense, because he is supposed to pick up Chris. It would be seriously worrying if Chris was home.

Eddie has slept. For how long? Who cares. Probably it wasn't enough. He's still fucking exhausted and would not like to see the sun for a few more hours (or days), but he knows he needs to hydrate. Maybe take another painkiller. He took one glass of water and a pill before going to sleep, right? 

He would have remembered to do that, right?

Nonetheless, he should do it —again?— right now. That's a good place to start, as he's still adamant about checking what time it is. It still takes him a couple of minutes, but Eddie stands up on unsteady feet and manages to get to the door of his room. 

He opens it and immediately regrets all the choices he has ever done, as someone left the lights of the hallway turned on during the night and they hit him right in the face.

Eddie audibly groans, and takes a couple of seconds to recover. He can do this. He's a firefighter. He's a war veteran. He can go to the kitchen and get some water and an aspirin, even if he's having what might be the worst hangover of his life. Well, maybe it isn't the worst but right now it surely feels like it is. Precisely because of the hangover he needs to do it.

Maybe he can even turn off the hallway lights on his way there. That would be a good place to start.

His resolve flies away when he sees the figure snoring softly on his sofa. Because, yes, he had absolutely forgotten for a damn second that, even if Chris wasn't there, Buck is living in his living room for the time being.

That brings more of it back, kinda. What is it , exactly? Eddie's memories of the previous night are… unclear. He knows they started drinking, he knows they played that silly truth or dare game. Someone —Chim?— said Eddie had to kiss Buck… Buck's cheek? But Eddie clearly remembers looking at Buck's pink lips, slightly open now as he breathes, completely asleep.

Holy shit, did they kiss last night? Did alcohol do that to Eddie? Or to Buck? He doesn't remember kissing him, but judging by this hangover he had been extremely drunk. Eddie remembers the thought of kissing him, fleeting, fiery, and a shudder goes through his body. 

His eyes are still stuck on Buck's parting lips. He’s having some kind of déjà vu, and that makes him dizzy.

He should stop looking at Buck's lips. Promptly.

Eddie keeps his mind as blank as possible as he forces himself to move, to make it to the kitchen, grab two glasses of water and the pills. He goes back through the living room and leaves one glass and an aspirin for Buck on the coffee table, and makes it back to his room.

He hasn't thought about Buck's lips. He hasn't. Not a single time in about two minutes. Eddie is oddly proud of himself.

And to demonstrate to himself how proud he is, he takes his phone out and calls the only person who he is sure is not sleeping right now.

“Yes?” Ravi's very awake voice comes from the other end of the line at just two tones. “Everything alright, Edd—”

“Did I kiss Buck last night?” He blurts out.

He just… Eddie needs reassurance. To be able to truly feel proud of himself for… for what, exactly?

“Yes, good morning, Ravi, thank you for driving me home last night and tucking me into bed—”

“Did you tuck me into bed?”

“You'll never know. I'm assuming you are talking about the truth or dare game? No, you didn't kiss Buck, don't you remember?” Ravi asks. 

“I… it's foggy,” Eddie says. There's a feeling inside his chest, close to his heart, and to his surprise it's not relief. 

“But you remember something?”

“I don't know, I—” Eddie groans. His head is about to explode and that damn feeling, whatever it is, isn't helping at all. “I remember someone saying I had to kiss Buck, but… That's it.”

“His cheek,” Ravi clarifies. “Buck's cheek.”

So it really had been his cheek. Good. Good?

“And you didn't, I swear. Instead, you drank more,” Ravi continues. “Does that help you resolve your— uh, doubts, Eddie?”

Eddie stays quiet for a few seconds, shocked. And he finds his own shock strange. He really doesn't get why he wouldn't have kissed Buck's cheek, they've been friends for seven years. Eddie could kiss Buck's cheek… not that he has ever done it.

What truly shocks him, however, is that Eddie feels… weird about not having done it. Ever. Kissing Buck. Well, his cheek. Why hasn't he done it? They trust each other enough for that. Eddie wouldn't mind doing it, he finds out. What has stopped him? Apparently himself, because last night not even alcohol nor his co-workers could convince him.

He doesn't… Eddie could… His head hurts too much for this, honestly. Weird thoughts will be weird and all that, and he's in no shape to even try to untangle whatever he's feeling. But he knows he's kinda angry at himself.

Weird. He should just take the pill and the water. Because no, he hasn't done it yet. Eddie went straight to call Ravi, because his priorities are as skewed as his thoughts, apparently.

He could be feeling better already. But no.

“Eddie? ” And, oh, yes, Ravi is very much still waiting for an answer there. What had he even asked? Eddie can't recall it, and it was mere seconds ago.

Maybe he's still a bit drunk. He wouldn't discard it.

“Yeah, no, sorry. The hangover is being… terrible, sorry,” he ends up saying, and hey, it's true. Not the full truth, sure, but given the circumstances it's enough.

“No shit,” Ravi huffs. “I think you ended up way worse than the others last night.”

“Really?”

“Eddie, you drank at every truth and dare. I would have thought you would let a bit loose after some drinks, but… no. You drank. A lot.”

That's… okay, fuck. Fuck. At some other point in his life Eddie would have loosened a bit, he has no doubt. Hell, even some months before, he has the experience of Chim's bachelor party as proof. He still gets some flashes from that night, of Buck dancing, Buck smiling, then singing, looking into his eyes and thinking they were beautiful… Buck drunkenly hugging him, Buck…

Anyway. He had intended to loosen last night. That was the point. Or part of the point, aside from celebrating Buck's birthday, obviously.

So if Ravi is telling the truth —and why wouldn't he?— last night was certainly not what Eddie had wanted, needed or expected.

He finally drinks some water, if only because his parched throat hurts now more than when he actually woke up. With it, Eddie swallows the pill. Ravi waits patiently, only a light static breathing sound on his end.

“I… I don't know, man. Don't know what to say.”

“It's fine. You don't have to tell me anything, just wanted to say I got a bit worried while I witnessed it,” he clears his throat before continuing. “You are one of the people who taught me that the 118 was going to be there for me if I ever needed something, so… You know. I'm sure there's someone around who can lend you a hand. If you need it. For whatever reason.”

“I'm… I'm fine,” it sounds weak as hell, but Ravi doesn't point it out. “Sorry, I… I woke up and saw Buck sleeping on my couch, and flashes came back, and it was a bit confusing.”

“I understand, don't worry,” Ravi sounds calm, which Eddie appreciates. He could use some of that himself. “See you in two days?”

It takes Eddie a bit to remember that, oh, right. Next shift. Yes.

“Sure. Thanks, Ravi.”

“Anytime.”

After hanging up Eddie stays seated on his bed for… for a bit, at least. Tracking time is being difficult, and he still refuses to look at the hour. He takes another sip of water, as he is already feeling his brain working a little bit better. It might just be a placebo, but he'll take whatever he can get.

He drinks what's left in the glass, and thinks he might need to get some more. Which causes an instant feeling of rejection because, no, Eddie doesn't feel ready to see Buck's face again. Even if he's sleeping. Which is so stupid because they are best friends. They've been seeing each other almost daily for years. And obviously he has seen Buck asleep many times.

Oh, but what if he starts thinking about his lips again? That would be a problem. Maybe. Probably. He can't think too hard about it, his head still hurts.

Water. Yes. That would really be for the best. He has gone to get it before, and he will do it again. Buck's lips be damned.

Then, he hears footsteps on the hallway, and the only impulse he has is to jump from his bed and lock the door to his room.

Is he stupid? Does Eddie like to be stupid? Maybe, but he needs time before seeing Buck, he isn’t fully prepared yet, before he can—

“Eddie, you okay?”

—fuck, shit, fuck, what's wrong with him? He needs time for what exactly. Eddie still has to be able to pinpoint what he is exactly so scared —scared?— of, or angry —angry?— about.

He's just in panic. Okay. He's been there before.

“Fine. Just… got a huge hangover,” he lets out. Buck's voice came from just the other side of the door. “I just need some more rest.”

“No problem. Hey, thank you for leaving some water for me. And the aspirin. I think I'm not doing that bad, but I definitely needed it anyway,” and he laughs, and Eddie's world tilts a little, because he has such a beautiful laugh, even more when he sounds this hoarse in the morning.

Has Eddie's world done that… before, thought? At any point? Not that he has noticed, though he does feel great when he's with Buck, it's like… Like being—

The doorknob rattles and Eddie feels his soul leaving his body for a single second.

“Have you closed your door?” Buck says seconds after.

“Yeah, I just— I need some time. Alone.”

Eddie, my dear. That sounds bad, if not plainly weird. You are just hungover. He hits his head with the palm of his hand, why is he like this?

And that is confirmed when he hears Buck snorting. “Yeah, sure. Been there. I think I'm gonna go take a walk. Text me if you need anything?”

God, Eddie wishes he sounded as chill as Buck is sounding right now, but for some reason he's busy losing his shit for something he didn't even do while drunk. While very drunk. Good times. He's certainly having a good time.

“Sure. Sure,” he lets out, and hears the steps fading away. Eddie doesn't move. A couple of minutes later, the front door opens and closes.

Eddie's heart is still racing, but at least he can now come out to get more water. He needs it. Badly. For more reasons than before, somehow. Why is his throat feeling parched again?

A couple of glasses of water and a short trip to the bathroom to wash his face and Eddie feels he can think more clearly. His head still hurts, and the light is a tad too bright, but the world seems kinder to him. Less sharp, less unforgiving.

Still very confusing, though.

Now. What happened the previous night? Eddie is standing in the middle of the hallway, and maybe it isn’t the best place to think, but it’s dark enough and his head can work better because of it. 

They were playing truth or dare. 

He drank way too much. 

Eddie didn't kiss Buck's cheek when it was prompted. 

And he is aware he's fixating too much on that last part. Why?

Sure, Eddie would understand fixating on it if he had actually kissed him. Not that it would feel bad. To kiss Buck. On the cheek. Eddie's pretty sure that would have been okay. But he could see himself giving it more than the baseline fleeting thought.

But he's starting to recognize the feeling churning somewhere behind his stomach as… bother . Annoyance. At who? At himself? At whoever asked the question? Ravi said it was Chim, right? Well, he had been reading the prompt from a stupid card, but still… His drunken mind could be blaming him for… whatever reason. 

Eddie closes his eyes. The picture of Buck's smile comes straight to the back of his eyelids. Like he is at a fucking cinema.

He immediately opens his eyes. What the hell.

“This is the weirdest hangover I've ever had,” Eddie whispers to absolutely nobody, as he's alone in the house. He reaches for his phone, sighs to himself, and taps the call button.

“Dude, why are you not sleeping,” Chim's annoyed voice comes from the other end of the line. He doesn't sound sleepy per se. He does sound tired. 

“I woke up at…” Eddie finally looks at his watch. Makes a quick assumption. It couldn't have been more than thirty minutes, right? Maybe forty? “...At around 10am.”

“Tell Eddie he needs to sleep more,” Maddie says in the background.

“Do you have me on speaker?”

“He doesn't, I'm just close and have good hearing.”

Maddie is kind of a superhuman. Eddie is quite sure. She doesn't even sound tired.

“Wait, let me video call you,” Chim hangs up only to call Eddie back a few seconds later.

Did he… need to hang up?

Now Eddie can see they are both sitting in their kitchen, phone propped against something so Eddie can see the two of them at the same time. Chim is in front of a large cup of coffee, while Maddie seems to be having more of a normal breakfast. Did she even drink last night?

Yes, she did. Eddie remembers. She had some wine. Probably didn't drink a lot, in any case. Or, you know, again. Superhuman.

“Less confusing for you, I guess,” Chim says. “Now, let me tell you, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, you too,” despite the persistent headache, Eddie doesn't miss a beat.

“I'm aware,” Chim takes a sip of his coffee and his eye bags seem to disappear just a bit. Oh, nevermind, it was just a trick of the light. “What's going on?”

“Not… much?”

“Well, you called, so it must be because of something,” Chim looks at the camera and Maddie nods.

He's kind of right. But Eddie forgot why he was even calling as soon as Chim picked up, sue him.

“Buck went for a walk,” he starts. Okay.

“Doesn’t he have a killing hangover too?” Maddie asks.

“He sounded like it. He says he’s not doing bad, though.”

“You are calling to let us know where Buck is?” Chim asks.

“No. I'm calling you because—” Eddie stops himself. What is he even doing? This is stupid. He already has his answer. He's looking at Chimney and that doesn't make him feel more annoyed.

Well, he's annoyed, but that's just because Chimney is being a little shit. But that's normal with Chim. Regular levels of annoyance.

“Because…?” Maddie prompts.

“No. Nothing. It's… nothing,” Eddie backtracks, as ungracefully as he's capable of, apparently.

“Is this something about last night?” Maddie asks, and okay, Eddie was looking for a way out, but maybe…

“Actually, I don't remember much about what happened."

“No wonder,” Chim arches his eyebrows as he takes another sip of coffee.

“I thought you would have fun while drunk, wild out a bit, even,” Maddie says. Then, her smile strains a little. “After how you and my brother appeared at our wedding—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah— Yes, I'm normally like that while drunk. While very drunk,” Eddie corrects himself. Sure. He can admit that.

Thinking about it, he's not… a fun drunk. Normally. Sure, he loosens up, he enjoys himself a bit, as Ravi pointed out some minutes before. He would have expected that. But funny? Wild?

No, the realization hits him. He was only like that because he was with Buck. And that's his most recent memory of being fully drunk. His only one in years. The amazing time he had with Buck.

“You didn't look very wild to me last night,” Chim points out. Why wasn’t he like that? Buck was there. Buck was there.

“I had a lot on my mind,” Eddie says.

“Well, with coming back from Texas, Buck moving out soon, and just… everything,” Chim sighs. Eddie knows that he doesn't want to mention Bobby, but he's included in that everything.

Maybe that's it. Maybe that's it. Chim needs to be right. Eddie's been exhausted lately with… with everything going on, and Buck leaving, and Buck is leaving and Eddie is not going to see his smile every morning. Buck's not going to make pancakes for Chris, he's not going to play video games with his son, no more fun banter while they cook together, and he's not going to be sleeping on his couch anymore just as he isn't now because he's gone to take a stupid walk like a functional person.

Eddie is feeling everything but functional right now.

Maybe. Maybe Eddie has a slight idea about what he's upset about.

Which still makes no sense! They've only been living together for a couple of months, and before that Eddie had absolutely no problem with Buck having his own place. A couple of months are nothing against seven years of friendship not living in the same house.  

And of course Buck wants his own place! Who would want to live on someone else's couch forever? Eddie had actually offered his own bed to Buck, but Buck had refused to let Eddie sleep on the couch. Eddie wouldn't have minded, but Buck made a very good point about Eddie paying the bills, and he just… Eddie had tried. He talked about how Buck actually gave him money to help pay for everything. He had taken good care of the house while Eddie was in Texas, he deserved something. Buck was having none of it.

Is this really the thing that upsets him? What has been upsetting him for, apparently, weeks, but it is just flaring up now? Prompted by not kissing Buck on the cheek?

Is Eddie in his right mind?

“Everything. Yeah,” he says after a few seconds to Chim and Maddie's attentive looks. “Sorry, I… I should get more rest.”

“Lucky you,” Chim sighs.

“You can also rest, you know that, right? I can take care of the kids,” Maddie looks at her husband, who is already shaking his head.

“No chance. Whatever we can do together, we do together.”

To that, Maddie just sighs, and he can see the love she pours into the look directed to Chimney.

“Alright then. Have some rest, Eddie. Promise?” Chim says.

“Promise,” he tries to smile, and after a few more seconds he hangs up and the smile drops.

Now, Eddie. What the hell is going on in your head?

Step by step. He enjoys Buck's company. That's no secret, they are best friends and have been like this for seven years. Buck is currently living in Eddie's living room, which is fine by Eddie. Absolutely fine. Although he wishes Buck would let him improve his stay in some way. As for Chris, he also really enjoys having Buck around. However, it's only natural Buck finds his own place again. Eddie can be bothered by this, can’t he? It's… Buck is his friend, his best friend, though Eddie sometimes feels like the worst friend in the world. He's been the worst friend in the world, several times in fact, and Buck has forgiven him as if nothing had ever happened. Hell, Buck also has annoyed Eddie to the moon and back, but he wouldn’t have ever taken a step back from their friendship. Not a chance. 

He likes to have Buck close by at all times, and he thanks whatever or whoever is up there because Buck hasn't gotten tired of him yet. So, yes, they care about each other a whole lot. Who could blame them, after so long? Eddie can be annoyed at not having Buck in his house, specially after missing him as much as he did while he was in Texas.

That's logical. It is. It is.

Now, what's not logical is that every time Eddie closes his eyes he sees Buck's lips. That's just plainly weird.

He's just… he doesn't…

Eddie straightens himself and goes back to the living room. His steps lead him to the couch.

His couch. Where Buck stays. There's still some kind of shape in it, indicating someone has spent some time lying down there. Sleeping. It… kinda smells like Buck.

Don't get Eddie wrong, he's not actively seeking to inhale Buck's scent. No. It's just… the entire room smells kinda like him. Of course here is stronger, his sweat and his cologne —something fresh, with cedar in it— very much present. A bit of alcohol, too, due to the previous night's activities.

Gosh, Eddie doesn't want to stop inhaling and exhaling in that precise spot.

That is a thought that hits him like a truck. Fuck, it might be weird, he's being weird right now, but the thing is he really doesn't want Buck gone. He wouldn't even be that far away, sure. They would be back to their usual dynamic from before his time in Texas. 

Eddie… Eddie doesn't want to go back to normal. As selfish as it sounds. Because it is.

He sits down, he needs to sit down. Eddie's muddled brain is taking an embarrassing amount of time to piece everything together, to get to the root, whatever it is. But he's spiraling, and he's aware he can't stop. He wouldn't, even if he could, even if it tears him apart. Even if he's already tearing himself apart. He has started and now he won't stop until he knows what's wrong with him.

So he doesn't want Buck to move out. Okay. Now, what does that have to do with not kissing Buck but being unable to stop thinking about Buck's lips?

He doesn't… it's not that Eddie wants to kiss him… right?

Before he knows it, Eddie is pulling out his phone and tapping the call button.

“I thought you would call me,” Hen snorts at the other end of the line.

“...Am I missing something?” Eddie asks after a few seconds, because what? Why?

“Ravi told me you called him. He was a bit worried, doesn't know what ‘normal’ means with you since he doesn't know you that much. And Chim just messaged me to tell me you look like shit. So I’m guessing he video called you?”

“That's… right,” Eddie clears his throat. What did he expect? He's making the rounds with this mental train wreck he's been having.

“That you look like shit?”

“That too,” Eddie sighs, and then thinks very hard about what exactly he wants to tell Hen.

He should start thinking through those things before actually calling his friends.

“How—” He cuts himself. Starts again. “I might… I might be regretting a decision.”

“...Oooookay,” Hen drags the word. “A decision you made recently, I assume?”

“I wasn't being… myself, completely. I think. That's also part of the problem.”

“So you were what? Inebriated? High?”

“Drunk,” Eddie confirms. “It's… it's not something—”

“Please, Eddie, stop with the riddles. If this is something from last night just say it, I was also there and I also feel and look like shit, thank you.”

Eddie stops. Then his mouth is running before he can think of something better.

“I think I should've kissed Buck.”

It… it feels good, saying it, but the feeling is covered by instant regret. What is he doing. What is he doing? That's not what was in his mind before making the call.

“...You mean on the cheek,” Hen says a few long seconds later.

“Yes.”

“When Chim read that card.”

“I believe so? My memories of last night are not great. That's why I called Ravi.”

“I can guess why,” Hen huffs. “So you regret not kissing Buck. Why do you think that is?”

“I-I was hoping you could help me figure it out?” He's babbling. Eddie is babbling. What is he doing?

“I swear to god, you are so—” She groans, and Eddie feels a bit bad for her. “Okay, let's put it this way. It's not that you regret not kissing Buck. It's that you want to kiss Buck. Present tense.”

“Do I?” Eddie blurts out, but the thought is already inside his thick skull.

There, the question, ‘Do I want to kiss Buck?’ in bold neon letters in front of a photo of a smiling Evan Buckley, radiant, beautiful, looking at Eddie.

Ah, shit.

“Do you—? Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie, I didn't peg you as someone who would be this dense.”

“But I’m s—” Eddie is about to point out his straightness, his flagrant heterosexuality, but Hen interrupts him.

“I’m just being obvious here. If you are regretting not kissing Buck, it’s probably because you want to kiss him. Simple! It's honestly been a long— yes, Karen, it's Eddie,” her tone immediately changes at addressing her wife. “Yeah, yeah, I know, too blunt. Can you blame me? I'm hungover and this guy was about to tell me he’s straight.”

He can hear Karen’s snort in the background. But that’s about it, because Eddie’s brain is a white expanse, unable to register whatever else Hen is telling her wife. He is… He’s not… They don’t think he’s straight?

It's as if something clicks in Eddie's brain as everything else gets run over by a truck. He's sitting on the sofa, Buck's smell flooding his lungs, and Hen has no way to know how hard her words hit him. Alarms are blaring somewhere and he doesn’t know if they are on his brain or somewhere far on the street.

Because maybe, just maybe, the tiniest question has just made an appearance on Eddie’s mind: what if she is right?

Does Eddie want to kiss Buck?

The image of Buck's smile flashes on Eddie's mind. Again. Again. His eyes glinting, a couple of unruly curls falling beautifully on his forehead. His arms, extended, about to hug Eddie, all muscle and the same time so soft, so soft.

Fuck. Fuck . Fuckfuckfuckfuck—

“Eddie? You there?” At some point Hen has stopped talking to Karen. She has said something before, hasn’t she? And Eddie was, quite understandably, deep in his head, deeply fucked.

He still is.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just… it’s been a morning.”

“Yeah, Ravi told me that you spaced out hard while talking to him. A lot of self-discovery, huh?”

“I…” Eddie is barely processing the conversation anymore. How could he?

Some people —their friends, tía Pepa once— have joked that he's not normal about Buck. And sure, they've been joined by the hip practically since they met each other. From not liking each other to best friends, now temporary roommates. They care about each other, they message constantly when they aren't sharing space, and they even did daily video calls while Eddie was in Texas. Sometimes even twice a day. Hell, if anything happens to Eddie, Buck gets Chris' custody, Eddie could perfectly say Buck is family. 

You can be not normal about your best friend, but Eddie is suddenly realizing maybe he's gone a little overboard for Buck.

Maybe he wants to kiss Buck. Maybe he would like to take him out to a fancy restaurant for dinner, and maybe they could call that a date. Go back home, share his bed with him. Maybe even kiss him again and spend the rest of their life together and—

And okay, this is scaring Eddie. Where is all of this coming from?

“Earth calling Eddie Diaz?”

Eddie hears her words, but doesn't answer. He really doesn't know what to say.

“Okay. I'll give you some alone time, because… it seems that you might need it. If you need anything else, you know where I am. And sorry for being so blunt, it's been a morning over here, too.”

“Yeah. Thank you, Hen,” and Eddie surprises himself at just how breathless he sounds.

He hangs up. The phone falls on the couch next to him, and Eddie leans back. 

Closes his eyes.

Inhales. Exhales. Inhales. Exhales. He's been doing that for a while now.

He's so fucked. So, so fucked. Scratch away the revelation that apparently he's not as straight as he thought, which is a whole can of worms in itself, but him? Having feelings for Buck? That— that can't be. And that can't end well, surely.

What is Eddie going to do with himself? What can he do with himself, honestly? Buck is living with him, sleeping on that same couch, and everything smells like him, and for one stupid kiss he didn't give Eddie has started losing his mind, and what can he do? What can he do if he can't keep his feelings contained? 

What can he do, if despite everything he doesn't want Buck to move out? As if that was akin to lose him completely?

No, Eddie— Eddie doesn't want to lose having Buck here. With him, with Chris. But he can't physically subject himself to just straight up spiraling whenever he looks at Buck, because that’s exactly what happened that morning. It would get easier with time, he's sure, but it would hurt. 

It's going to hurt either way.

Or maybe not. Perhaps this is just a side effect from the hangover. Eddie might be romantically interested in Buck, or it might be his brain playing tricks on him. He could be having feelings for Buck but the hangover could be throwing him for a loop anyway. It could be anything. It could be a crazy dream, for all he knows.

He's never dreamed about having a hangover, though. So realistic, on top of that! The headache is even starting to fade now, aligning with the time he took the aspirin.

Well, whatever it is, he's clearly hurting himself more by sitting down on the couch, so he stands up and sets himself to get some breakfast done and eaten. After all, there's still so much to do that morning, going to pick up Chris included. Somehow, he has to do that.

Some toast and a shower later, Eddie feels better. Sure, it's nothing miraculous, but it's better. He's barely thinking about Buck. It's nagging in the back of his mind, shoved in a box, the… the entire ordeal, but he's managing.

Eddie reminds himself he's an adult, not a teenager. He can carry on with his life just fine despite the horrors of having a —possible— too-late realization of liking his best friend.

Yeah. That sounds right and true.

That is, at least, until Buck comes back home.

“Oh, you came out. Enough time alone?” Buck is there, smiling big, in a white tank top and those old gray shorts he wears to exercise. He's sweating, he's been running, hasn't he? A bit red, even, on the cheeks and shoulders, and his breathing is heavy as if he really just stopped for the first time on the front door.

Oh, boy. Eddie's throat feels dry all of a sudden. What the fuck is wrong with him? He’s an adult, can't he control his reactions?

“Yeah, well, I had to take a shower and,” he needs to drink some water. Urgently, “eat something.”

He needs serious help. Or the floorboards to swallow him. He can’t possibly look at Buck. Eddie needs to think about something else, about anything, about—

“Oh, talking about eating! I'm starving,” Buck keeps his smile as he turns around towards the kitchen.

“Didn't you have anything before going out?” Eddie asks, and is surprised at seeing his feet follow his best friend.

He's making it worse for himself, is he stupid? But he can't keep himself away. He physically can't, not now.

“Nope, didn't really think about it. That's on the hangover,” Buck says as he heads directly for the coffee machine. He pops one of the capsules —decaffeinated? It looks like it is— as Eddie watches him in silence from the other end of the kitchen. He's stupid, but not that stupid. He knows that if he gets close he’ll involuntarily seek to touch Buck, and he can’t do that. No, he can’t do that.

Buck is smelling so much like Buck right now and Eddie doesn't want to lose the two only brain cells that seem to still be working to keep him afloat and sane. They are not doing a very good job, but they are trying their best there. “And on me, I guess. Know anything about Chris?”

“He's supposed to call me whenever he wants to get back,” Eddie says, and Buck just nods.

“Need help with that? Your hangover is worse than mine,” Buck turns around as the coffee pours into the cup. Eddie is trying really hard to focus mostly on the coffee. No reason. No reason. No reason. Don't think about it. Do not. Think.

“No, no, some air will do me some good,” Eddie says, and that should be true enough. Some air, and some distance, so he can at least function. Not function properly, he isn't setting the bar so high.

“But driving won't,” Buck points out and, okay, he's right. He’s very right.

“Maybe I can get there with public transport.”

“Hey, what if,” Buck says, and Eddie thinks he hasn’t even heard him, “I go get Chris and you just take a walk. Like I did.”

“Weren’t you running?”

“Well, yes, I did, but… you get the idea. Air. Some sunshine,” Buck shrugs and takes the coffee mug to his lips. “It would do you some good,” he echoes after a sip of coffee.

A coffee mug Eddie has been looking at for the past minute and a half. And, yep, that’s Buck’s mouth. Again. Fucking beautiful lips. Great for kissing.

As if an angel heard his struggle, Eddie’s phone starts buzzing with new messages. That officially gives Eddie permission to stop the conversation, but just in case he adds a, “It's Chris”, because it is. Exactly, an angel.

Buck just nods and makes a hand gesture indicating they can keep talking later. Later is fine. Eddie can deal with later. Maybe.

Maybe.

Chris

hey dad

how you holding up

Me

Shouldn't I be asking that question?

Chris

denny told me you were wasted last night

and were going through some sort of breakdown this morning

Eddie is going to kill Hen.

Me

I'm doing fine

Do you need me to pick you up?

Chris

no charlie’s father wants to drive us home

it's fine

is this breakdown about buck???

did something happen with him???

did you fight again???

Eddie is so going to kill Hen. It's not her fault, Denny just happens to be very good at eavesdropping, but right now that doesn't exonerate her in Eddie's mind.

Me

No, we didn't fight, don't worry

Chris

but it IS about buck

Eddie doesn't like this conversation. It's somehow worse when Buck is standing just a few feet from him, drinking coffee and checking his Instagram. All relaxed, comfortable, leaning against the kitchen counter. Like he belongs in that kitchen, because he does belong.

Me

Hey, shouldn't you be playing video games with your friends?

Chris

it's not even midday and it's summer

they are asleep dad

now

are you okay??

can i help???

Me

It's just the hangover from drinking last night

I promise I'm fine

“Okay, time to shower,” in the meantime Buck has finished his coffee —not enough breakfast, by the way, but okay!— and put the mug in the dishwasher. He's making his way out of the kitchen when he asks, “hey, are you just going to keep standing there, or…?”

“No, I'll just… I got distracted,” he ends up saying.

“Everything okay with Chris?”

“Yeah, he just wanted to chat because all of his friends are still asleep,” and then Eddie adds, “by the way, nobody has to pick him up, one of the dads is going to take everyone home it seems.”

“Oh, cool. So that means you'll be out taking a walk when I get out of the shower?”

“...Yeah. Probably,” Eddie nods and confirms in a mumble, and that's enough for Buck, who keeps walking and leaves the kitchen.

Eddie can't avoid just admiring how big his back is. Involuntarily he imagines how good it would he to scratch it and kiss it and even leave bite marks, to feel it arching under his touch—

No, he's not doing fine, and this is absolutely the worst time to not be doing fine in this specific —unexpected— way. It's not like he hasn't seen Buck's back before, and he has admired it on multiple occasions, but whatever was blocking the thoughts he's having is no longer there. And this is Buck’s back, but it really applies to everything about him.

Which sucks, honestly. Eddie had achieved some sort of balance and tranquility since he officially moved back to Los Angeles with Chris. He has his son back, his job back, his friends back and everyone is going to therapy because they absolutely need it. Not everything is fine, and it won't be fine for anyone for a long while, but they are getting there. 

This —whatever this is— is an earthquake to Eddie's apparent balance. Apparent, because he's starting to think that it's only hitting so hard because he was, in fact, wrongly thinking (close to) everything was okay with himself.

It's a terrifying thought. Almost as terrifying as actually experiencing this fall.

He breathes deeply. Eddie is going to sit down for this one. And he needs more water. He would drink coffee, but caffeine wouldn’t be good for those thoughts, he feels.

He's back in his bedroom, tall glass between his hands, and has taken around fifty more deep breaths before trying to get his thoughts in order. 

Okay, let's start simply. Again. From the top. He's done this a couple of times this morning, one more time can't hurt him.

Fact number one: Eddie has been upset because he doesn't really want Buck to move out.

This has an easy explanation: Eddie is happier with Buck around. He's always been happier with Buck around. That makes sense, as they are best friends. Okay, overboard best friends. Also, Chris really likes Buck, so his son has also been a bit sad he's moving out. Eddie really thought he was doing okay with this fact, but apparently he isn't. Still, it's logical.

Fact number two: Eddie wants to kiss Buck.

See? This is more problematic, and comes completely out of left field. He hasn't been aware of this desire, though he has the impression (and Hen seems to agree, given their weird call) it's been around from a while, which bewilders him at unheard levels. 

Eddie… Eddie can get behind the idea of kissing Buck. He seems like a very good kisser. Eddie can be a little bit curious.

However, that leads him to the third and final point in his mind, which is not a fact but a question: is Eddie not straight?

Eddie has had thoughts. He's admired Buck’s body multiple times. He really likes Buck, his antics, and the moments he exasperates Eddie. His superstitions, his laugh, the way his eyes shine when he looks at Eddie. But he's never given it a lot of thought because, well, it's Buck. And only Buck. Eddie has not been aware of having liked any other men, though technically he could have. He can admire a dude once in a while, can’t he? Is that what being attracted to men feels like? Eddie can only guess a catholic upbringing and over-controlling parents aren't a very good combination with —possibly— being somewhere in the queer spectrum.

The possibility still makes him dizzy. He might like guys. He might not like guys. But he certainly likes Buck, and that's something.

This is the best Eddie can do for now. He drinks some water, he takes a deep breath, and he hears the shower running in the background.

This is fine. This is fine. Eddie can live with this.

Then, he hears his phone ringing from the kitchen and oh, fuck. He left it there. And that's Chris’ ringtone.

Eddie scrambles to get to the kitchen, barely keeping the glass of water from spilling as he haphazardly leaves it on the kitchen counter. He immediately picks up the call.

“You are ignoring me,” Chris says, and he sounds sulky.

“No, I'm not,” Eddie immediately says, but has the impulse to look at— yep, forty-three messages from Chris. Father of the year, they call Eddie. “Sorry, I… I got distracted and left my phone in the kitchen.”

“Distracted with Buck?” Chris asks, and there's something in his voice, he… he finds it funny?

“Sort of,” Eddie says, too distracted trying to analyze what Chris is finding funny, exactly. His father is having a bad time over here, don't laugh at him, thank you.

“What happened, dad?”

“Your friends aren't awake yet?”

“No, they aren't. Why are you avoiding my questions?”

“I'm not… avoiding your questions,” Chris is too clever and really persistent, to Eddie's pride and current disgrace. “You just really don't have to—”

“Of course I worry,” Chris interrupts him. Damn, this kid knows him too well. “What happened last night?”

Eddie hesitates. He doesn't… this is something weird to tell his son. But Chris is old enough to understand and not judge him too badly. That comforts Eddie, but still, it's too early to say anything. Eddie doesn't think he'll even be able to express himself correctly. He doesn't want to regret telling Chris anything.

“Is this about you liking Buck?”

Well. Fuck Eddie.

“Of course I like Buck, he's a very good friend,” Eddie says. It's his first instinct, feigning he doesn't know what Chris is referring to. Maybe he'll be lucky enough and Chris will drop it.

“Dad. You waited for him for five minutes leaning against the door frame when you brought me back from Texas.”

…Okay, fair. He was aiming to get a nice surprise effect.

“He took your apartment when you came to Texas and like… he already had a place.”

Okay, fine, but Buck had been wanting to leave the loft, hadn't he? And what he did is something you would do for a best friend. Moving out of the place that has been your home for… six years? Seven years? Eddie would do the same for Buck.

Eddie really would do the same for Buck.

“You also brought me back from Texas to cheer him up because you two fought.”

Chris is a very good distraction for Buck, alright? Chris really loves him. And Buck loves Chris. Eddie of course knew it, and knew how much Buck cares about his son, but these past months, with all of them living together…

“You cut contact with Tommy when he broke up with Buck. And Tommy was your friend, right?”

But Tommy was being an asshole. Tommy is an asshole, and he hurt Buck so much, and Eddie could be so much better for him. He's always been so much better for him, despite everything. They truly know each other, they… 

“And on top of all that, you also have a weird look when you look at him, it's like… I don't know, I don't remember you looking at anybody like that.”

That… What did he feel about Ana? About Marisol? Eddie thought they were beautiful. They were perfect, he could have… Chris liked them despite some initial reservations, and they really liked Chris, and they were good for him.

But were they good for Eddie? They should have been, and yet he broke up with both for… for being terrible himself. A fucking mess, a disaster waiting to happen, that’s what he was, what he still is. Eddie, though, doesn't regret breaking up with them. What was he thinking when he decided to date them?

As for Buck… Shit.  

It's ridiculous. He, Eddie, is ridiculous.

Eddie lets out a sigh. Chris is waiting on the other end of the phone call. “I am figuring things out, Chris. Give me some time. Please.”

“That's fine, dad. But you should really talk to Buck. I mean,” Eddie can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “He's been there.”

Eddie stays silent for a few seconds. Buck has indeed been where Eddie is, realizing he's not straight. But Buck has also been there, by his side.

Always.

“We'll see. Thank you, Christopher.”

“No problem, dad.”

He hangs up. Seriously, Chris. Sometimes Eddie forgets he's no longer a kid. The part about being too aware about everything comes from long before, though.

“Chris?” Eddie, thankfully, manages to contain the startle to the minimum, though his heart beats hard and fast.

Buck stands in the door frame, leaning to one side and watching him attentively. His hair is still wet, and he's a bit red from the heat of the shower, and Eddie again cannot avoid thinking about how good he looks. He doesn't push that thought away anymore. 

“Yeah.”

“Did something happen?” There it is, he's already worried.

“No, no, everything is fine,” Eddie says, Buck's expression immediately relaxes. 

“Then?”

Eddie stops for a second before answering. “He just wanted to ask how did last night go. You know, if I had fun and all that.”

A half-truth. True enough.

“Oh, such a little parent,” Buck smiles, and something twists in Eddie's stomach. “And?”

“And what?”

“Did you have fun?” 

That's certainly a question. Did he? Considering that apparently the breakdown was already starting, Eddie is confident in saying he didn't. But that's entirely on him.

“It was a good party,” he shrugs.

“That wasn't my question,” big blue eyes blink at him. He's not mad, he's…

Eddie seems to be an expert in digging his own grave.

“Look, I… I was a bit in my own head. Nothing to do with your party. Don't worry.”

“I don't care about the party, I care about you being okay.”

“I'm fine,” Eddie feels like a broken record, he's said that a lot today. Or lately. Or in his life in general. Might not have been true most of those times.

“You haven't been looking fine. Or sounding fine. Since last night.”

“How so?” He's throwing smoke grenade after smoke grenade and he knows it.

“Well— you are tense,” Buck steps towards him, and Eddie would prefer he didn't.

“Okay? I'm tense most of the time.”

Weak as hell, Eddie. He knows it.

“No, you aren’t. I know you,” Buck sits by his side, and Eddie can feel his body heat. Their knees touch, their shoulders brush. A shudder runs through Eddie.

He can't be this affected. Seriously.

“Or you aren't tense when I'm around, at least,” Buck places a hand upwards, inviting. He knows Eddie, oh, he knows him. Eddit wants to take that hand so badly, but it’s not a good idea. “So, please, take a deep breath and tell me what did I do?”

It's a plea. A stupid one. Once again, Buck is thinking everything is his fault. Eddie wants to punch him and tell him he's an idiot, but he would never. Eddie could lash out, but he has the sudden thought that what he truly needs is someone lashing out at him, not the other way around.

“It's not you,” but it is him, Eddie thinks as he stands up. He needs… distance. Maybe he doesn't. Terrible. Messed up. A disaster. He needs to get away.

Buck grabs his wrist, though, and something is exploding inside Eddie.

“Where are you going?” He stands up after him. Not letting go, but also not stopping Eddie if he wants to leave.

It takes him too many seconds to respond. But the touch, it’s burning him.

“I thought the conversation was over.”

Another not-answer.

“And you still tell me I didn't do anything?”

“You didn't. It's me.”

It's him, it's him, it's Eddie.

“You? But you— you are great, Eddie,” he feels the sudden loosening of his grip.

“You think so?” Eddie still hasn't turned around to look at him.

“I believe it. Wholeheartedly. You are great.”

“You just said that,” Eddie glances back at Buck, if only just a little, and the look on his face hits him like a hammer to the heart.

“And I will say it as many times as it takes you to believe it,” but no, now that Eddie can't stop looking at him, Buck seems to know what to do. He keeps talking. “I really don't know what's going through your head if you don't tell me, but I'm here for you. If you really don't want to say anything then— that's fine. It's okay. I just ask you to not blame yourself for… for whatever is going on?”

Okay, Eddie really is being too vague for Buck. Too many smoke grenades, and though he doesn't want Buck to know about his emerging feelings —not now, maybe not ever!— this is being a bit too much.

There's nothing to blame to anyone, not really, Eddie hasn't exactly chosen to be attracted to Buck. That's the whole point, isn't it? No one could blame Eddie for that, and no one could blame Buck for being as kind, as beautiful, as funny.

“I don't blame myself.”

“Then?” Buck tilts his head almost imperceptibly.

“No one is at fault?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No, I'm not. That came out wrong. It's fine, Buck, just let me be,” Eddie doesn't escape Buck's grasp, though.

“Are you sure?”

Is Eddie sure of anything?

Buck sees his hesitation. It's in the slight shift in his eyebrows, in the way he looks at him. Eddie likes to think he's good at hiding his emotions, but life shows him again and again that, in fact, he's trash at it.

“I'm—” but as Eddie is uttering these words, Buck closes the distance between them.

Eddie's first thought is that he was right. Buck is a very good kisser. Even better than he had imagined.

Only then it registers that he's being kissed. That weight on his lips is, in fact, Buck. Buck's lips, and it's… a blessing of some kind. A release from all that has been going on through his head that morning. Maybe a release from their seven years of friendship. From his entire life.

Whatever it is, it’s flooding Eddie to the brim. He feels hot and cold at the same time. His knees are jelly and his heart beats hard and fast against a barely resisting ribcage. He gasps against Buck’s lips, and doesn’t pull away.

Buck does, after not enough time if you ask Eddie. He looks bewildered, he gasps for air and finally lets go of Eddie’s wrist.

“I’m sorr—”

Eddie is having none of it, and closes the distance without letting him finish the word. He needed this, he needs this, he… he’s pulling Buck’s tank top and his chest is against his own, and Buck lets out a small moan into his mouth and Eddie touches his shoulders, his neck, his face, and yes. Yes, yes, this was what he was missing, though he didn’t know he had been missing something until a few hours before. Hadn’t even suspected it. He could meld into Buck’s body, he wants to. Oh, he wants to.

And in five minutes he will have every doubt he could ever have, except for the fact that he wants to kiss Buck forever. Whatever that means for their relationship.

Eddie feels his back hitting the wall, and that’s what makes him finally break contact, if only reluctantly. Buck is breathing heavily, pinning him in that place with just his eyes, and Eddie’s hands still hold his face.

“Why the hell didn’t you kiss my cheek last night if you are okay with this?”

“Not kissing you was what was bothering me,” Eddie, somehow, finds enough voice to answer. It comes out breathy, and it’s not even intentional, he’s just gasping for air there. He feels Buck shuddering briefly.

“Couldn't you say it sooner? I've been dying for this for… for a while.”

“I—” He really doesn't want to admit the realization hit him one hour before these kisses.

“You know what? I don't care,” and Eddie barely has a second to agree before Buck kisses him hard again.

Eddie knocks the back of his head against the wall, but he doesn't care. Buck still mumbles a ‘sorry’ between kisses. His hands seek Eddie's t-shirt and he yanks at it, seeking to touch Eddie's skin. Not insistent, just needy, and Eddie can't deny him.

Eddie didn't know kissing someone could feel this good. Everything else just seems to have been a mechanical motion until then. How has he even been living until that precise moment?

This… it hits him. This is a bit too much, too sudden. Buck goes down to kiss his cheeks, his neck, he gently bites at his skin, as if he couldn't get enough, hands hugging his sides, and he smells like his cologne, tastes of coffee, and Eddie is close to combusting.

“Buck… Buck,” he gasps and struggles against what his body is clearly asking from him. “I just…” he needs to take a deep breath. “I just... I didn't know about my feelings until— until recently, and while I want… this, this is—”

“Going too fast,” Buck completes. He doesn't stop touching him, something Eddie is grateful for, but he puts some distance between their bodies. Not enough to stop feeling the heat emanating from him, but Eddie now has some breathing room. “Would cuddling be okay? I don’t think I can… I wanna stay close to you. Now.”

Cuddling. Cuddling. They've cuddled before, though Eddie didn't interpret it as such, dense as he has been. He's pretty sure he can do that.

“Yes.”

Soon enough they are lying down in Eddie's bed, and they are just… hugging. Not the first time. The novelty relies on the kisses they seek every few seconds.

Eddie kinds of feels like a teenager, and he's surprisingly okay with that. To hell with being an adult.

“Do you want to talk?” Buck whispers after a couple of minutes of blissful, calm silence.

And, yes, maybe Chris is right. Maybe Buck is the most likely person to understand what has been going through Eddie's head.

Hours later, Chris comes back home. It's already past midday, and he carries a bag of fast food that sets on the coffee table before thinking ‘hey, it's very quiet in here’.

“Dad?” He calls out loud, tentatively. No one answers.

Maybe he's asleep. That's the first thought that crosses Chris’ brain. If Denny is to be believed (and Denny is a very reliable source of information in Chris' experience, and Mara corroborated the information in this particular instance), and his dad himself is to be trusted (relatively, it depends on the topic), said dad had ended up pretty wasted last night. It wouldn't be surprising if he has decided to go back to sleep.

The thing is that Chris is hearing no one. Buck lives with them. Where is Buck? If Buck was asleep, he should have been on the couch, right? And he isn't.

An idea starts forming in his mind as he makes his way to his father's room. The door is open, and yep.

There they are. Hugging, completely asleep, in his father's bed. They are too close for them to truly be comfortable, but also too entangled to have kept that position by accident.

Chris smiles to himself and leaves the room, carefully closing the door.

His dad will let him know whenever he's ready.