Chapter Text
It’s 2:30 pm by the time Buck makes it back to the house. He can still feel the grit of dried tears on his cheeks, the salt tightening the skin. His whole body buzzes with the kind of tired that feels like fever. He’s starving, eyes red-rimmed, and a little sunburnt. He takes a deep breath, glancing behind him for a second before pushing the door open. Eddie’s stupid fucking prius is still parked in the driveway.
He pushes the door open quietly, wincing at the creak, and steps into the too-still house. It smells faintly like coffee and Pepa’s leftovers, warm in a way that makes his stomach twist. He turns his entire body away from the couch, pretending not to see the shape there, pretending he can just disappear down the hall, take a minute, splash water on his face, maybe even breathe for the first time today. He’s halfway to convincing himself when Eddie’s voice catches him mid-step.
“Buck.”
It cracks a little, but not like before. Not desperation, more restraint, like he wants to scream. Which is somehow worse.
“What, Eddie,” he says, flat. Tired.
“Can—” Eddie falters the second Buck turns around. He sits up a little, takes a breath that doesn’t quite reach the bottom of his lungs. He looks past Buck for just a minute, lost in the space around them, before he inhales sharply and readjusts his focus in the present. “Can we talk?”
Buck sighs heavily, scrubbing at his face before he glances up at Eddie. He’s pressed into the corner of the couch furthest away from the door, knees tucked up to his chest, just like he was that night when Buck came back to break his own heart again. He looks at him then, really looks, and it’s like being hit with every version of him all at once. The one from Buck’s memories, laughing under the kitchen light. The one bloody, under his hands and gauze. The one pulling him out of bed, saving him from drowning on dry land. The one in a sling, handing over his world The one who said if he had to choose, Buck would lose. The one from his nightmares in El Paso, distant, sharp-edged, unreachable.
It’s just that, when Eddie was in El Paso, Buck turned him into a monster. Not out of hate, but survival. It was easier that way. Easier to make him into something cruel and unreachable, a ghost that haunted Buck’s sleep and crept through every corner of the house. A presence that lived in the quiet, in the spaces Eddie used to fill. He needed that version of Eddie, the one who didn’t care, because hating him hurt less than missing him. He was never coming back.
And now, sitting on the couch, he’s just Eddie again. Beautiful and unbearably real. His hair’s a mess from running his hands through it, his jaw rough with the day’s stubble. His sweatshirt is rumpled, sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. He looks human. He’s still Eddie. Eddie, who didn’t let Buck scare him away, who gave Buck responsibility he didn’t deserve, who always believed in him. Eddie, who he spent the last 7 years intertwining every piece of his life with. Eddie, who he loved. Who he loves.
“Buck?” Eddie says softly, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Yeah.” Buck deflates, eyes falling from Eddie’s face and down to the floor. “Yeah, we - we can talk?”
Buck drags his feet as he walks to the couch. He lowers himself into the corner opposite Eddie, the farthest he can get without leaving. His knees knock against the coffee table, his hands twitch uselessly before finding their way to his face. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, elbows on his knees, trying to block out everything. The sound of Eddie’s breathing, the soft creak of the couch, the tremor starting to crawl up his spine.
–
Eddie is trying so hard to keep his cool, he can’t scare Buck off this time with some type of badly timed meltdown or mispoken feelings. He has a plan and he needs it to go well. He is losing his mind, being so far from Buck. It’s been three and a half months since Buck smiled at him, since he saw that wide unreserved grin spread across Buck’s face, since he felt his hands on him, since he could get his hand on Buck. Before he left, Eddie was greedy with the touches, always chalking up the urge to lay a hand on Buck’s shoulder to the face that he is a single dad that isn’t getting much affection elsewhere. But, now? He slept in the man's bed for god sake. Eddie internally thanks whoever is listening that Buck went somewhere else after his shift.
“I’m sorry.” Eddie says definitively, no room for argument. “I am sorry that I kissed you even though I knew I was leaving, I’m sorry for making you doubt your place in Chr- in our life. You are our family, you are Chris’s parent. I should have never insinuated that you weren’t.”
It feels like hes drowning, or running a 5-minute mile, or running up stairs in a 5-alarm fire. Buck hasn’t picked up his head from his fucking hands.
“I’m sorry I stopped texting you after a week, I’m sorry for making Chris spy on you, I’m sorry for showing up unannounced with Chris and expecting you to be excited. I’m sorry for never being brave enough to talk about all these life-changing and important things we’ve been through.”
Eddie watches as Buck fills his lungs like its a difficult task, and how he shakes when he lets it out. It feels like there should be a louder sound when the tears fall off Buck’s face and onto the floor. “I’m sorry that -”
“When you kissed me” Buck interrupts, finally siting up and slumping back onto the couch, “I-I thought, for just a second, maybe I had convinced you to stay. That you finally decided you actually wanted me… Then I realized where we were and what we were doing and -” his voice breaks his bottom lip wobbles until he sits up straight suddenly, manic eyes snapping over to Eddie.
“Did you know? That I loved you?”
Eddie frowns while he thinks about it. Did he? He knew he was important to Buck, that Buck was his family, his best friend. Buck had proven his stability, loyalty, and friendship over and over again no matter how fucked up Eddie got. He knew that Buck cared about him, but does Eddie believe anyone loves him? He’s not sure. If he thinks back, he thinks maybe he’s been taking advantage of Buck’s love this entire time. It’s a tricky question.
“I-I don’t think so. Not in the way you’re asking. I was… I thought I was… You know? We’ve always just been… us.” Eddie tries desperately, but he’s still a coward. The words feel like bricks in his chest. Straight. Gay. In love with you. The words he can manage aren’t enough, he knows that. He knows now.
“But, Buck.” He takes a deep breath in, the words that he had been practicing sitting on the back of his tongue. “I know that you take care of me, of Chris. I know that you love Chris as much as I do, that I want you around forever, that you’d stay forever if I asked.”
Buck hangs his head again, his sniffles the only clue to how he’s feeling. The silence feels heavy. “Isn’t that the problem, Eddie?”
“What? Why would that be a problem?”
“I take what you give me. I’ll do it forever. I’ll take the scraps, ignore the things I can’t have. Even when you dangle them right in my face.”
Eddie opens his mouth to speak but Buck holds a hand up to him without even glancing over. He snaps it shut. Buck takes a few breaths and Eddie let’s himself look, let’s himself have this moment of quiet. Let’s himself rake over the pink tinge all over Buck’s face, his ears, just under the hem of his shirt sleeve. The way his curls are stiff and stuck to his forehead. He looks enough to jump when Buck finally speaks again.
“You - hm” Buck hums, frustrated. “Was sleeping in my bed some kind of joke?”
“What?” Eddie snaps, sitting up straight. Fuck. Buck saw him. “Ho-H-How did you even-”
“I came home after my shift and you were still passed out in there, Eddie. What was that? Did you think that I would see you and just crawl in? Was is some passive-aggressive way of reclaiming your house?”
“Buck”
“It’s my bed, Eddie. You took yours to El Paso.”
“I just -”
“Just what, Eddie?” Buck spits, and now the tears come, hot and angry. “You can’t say the word, right? You can’t say you missed me. Or you wanted me. Or that you slept in my bed because it hurt too much to sleep somewhere else. Because that would mean admitting something real.”
Eddie’s shoulders tense.
“That’s why it’s scraps, Eddie. You throw me these moments. You kiss me and then you disappear. You put me in your will and never say a word. You sleep in my bed but won’t tell me why.”
“Buck-”
“No!” Buck snaps, hands shaking. “I’m not doing this again. If you’re going to stay, really stay, then you have to tell me something true. Not the safe thing. Not the half thing. Not the thing that lets you run the second it scares you.”
He drags a hand down his face, breath shuddering.
“Tell me why you were in my bed. And don’t you dare say you don’t know.”
“I was trying to feel close to you. I didn’t think you’d see me, I didn’t mean to fall asleep”
Eddie stands up.
Buck immediately stiffens. “Don’t. Don’t come closer.”
But Eddie ignores him. Slow, careful, he walks until he’s standing just a foot in front of Buck. Buck won’t look at him but he stands there, awkwardly, trying not to sink to his knees.
“I missed you, Buck. I miss you so much. I just - I wanted to feel close to you, it smelled like you in there.” he whispers, like if he says it louder Buck might run, might not believe him.
Buck goes very still.
It’s a tiny shift, just the slightest pause in his breathing, but Eddie sees it, feels it. And something in him cracks open, the thing he’s been holding back for years spilling out whether Buck is ready or not.
Eddie continues anyway, voice trembling. “El Paso was… I thought being near Chris would hurt less than staying. But every night, I’d lie down in-in a house that wasn’t mine, in a city where you weren’t, and all I could think was: I don’t know how to do this without Buck.”
Buck’s breath stutters, like he’s trying not to let the words seep in.
Eddie steps closer. Not enough to be touching but close enough that Buck can feel the heat of him. Close enough that Buck flinches.
“Don’t,” Buck whispers, voice barely holding together. “Don’t say things like that. Don’t be this honest. I want to be mad at you.”
“That’s why I kissed you,” Eddie says all at once, almost pleading, begging. “Not to shut you up. Not to soothe you. Not to make peace.” He swallows hard, eyes shining. “Because you were standing there loving my son - loving our son - and loving me without even realizing it, and I guess I thought, if I don’t kiss him right now, I never will.”
Buck sucks in a sharp breath.
Eddie’s voice drops, fragile. “And I was scared. Of how much it felt like wanting. Of how much it felt like choosing. Of how much it felt like… like I was taking from you.”
Buck shakes his head, trembling. “Don’t,” he warns again, voice cracking. “Eddie, don’t.”
But Eddie steps closer, like gravity is pulling him in as he finally crumbles to his knees right in front of Buck, ducking to try and catch Buck’s eye. Buck dodges well, but Eddie isn’t waiting anymore. He can’t keep talking around it. He grabs Buck’s face and holds him still against his struggle.
“Buck,” he whispers, eyes wide and wet, “I love you.”
Buck’s whole face twists, pain and hope and disbelief crashing together. He squeezes his eyes shut, hands curling into fists.
“No,” he whispers, shaking. “Don’t say it just because you think you’re losing me.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Eddie breathes. “I loved you then, and I love you now. I think I’ve loved you for years. But I didn’t know how to say it without fucking up everything.”
Buck huffs out something between a sob and a bitter laugh.
“Well,” Buck chokes, wiping angrily at his face, “congratulations. You fucked it up anyway.”
Eddie nods, no excuses, no retreat.
“I know,” he says quietly. “And now I want to fix it. I want to fix us.”
“You already broke everything,” he says, again, quietly. “All on your own.”
“I know,” he says. “I know, Buck. And I’m sorry.”
Silence folds over them, thick, trembling, impossible to breathe through.
Then, Eddie shifts, just slightly, his hands falling from Buck’s face and sliding down his shins to his ankles, like he’s grounding him, anchoring him to the moment.
Buck gasps at the touch, body jerking, not away, just startled, and Eddie freezes.
“I’ll stop,” Eddie says immediately, voice trembling. “If you want me to, I’ll stop. Just talk to me.”
Buck’s eyes squeeze shut, harder. His voice comes out so small he almost swallows it.
“…No. Don’t stop.”
Eddie’s breath catches.
Buck tilts forward, elbows braced on his own knees, face inches from Eddie’s, shattered and exhausted and soft in a way he hasn’t been in months.
“But don’t,” he whispers, “don’t think a confession fixes what you did.”
Eddie nods. He knows.
“It doesn’t,” he says, another resolute nod. “But it’s the truth.”
Buck’s lip wobbles, his eyes filling again.
“I hate that I want to believe you,” he whispers, a confession ripped straight from bone. “I hate that you’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted this much. I’m broken, Eddie.”
Eddie’s hands tighten around Buck’s ankles, the first real grip he’s allowed himself.
“And I hate that I didn’t tell you sooner. I should never be the one to break you, Buck. I will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you” Eddie whispers back.
Buck’s whole body trembles but he doesn’t move away. Eddie tries not to feel the giddy shiver making its way up his spine as he waits for Buck. Waits for him to tell him what to do next, what he wants to do now.
“Can you just… um,” Buck heaves, tears flowing in streams down his face.
“Anything” Eddie rushes out
“Can you just, hold me?” It’s so quiet that if Eddie wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have heard it, but he is and he does so he springs off the floor faster than an 35 year old should and collapses next to Buck before pulling him into his chest. Buck folds into him like his spine gives out, fingers curling weakly into Eddie’s shirt as if he’s afraid Eddie might vanish if he doesn’t hold on.
“Anything.” Eddie whispers, again, into the top of Buck’s head.
They stay like that, quiet except for the ragged rhythm of their breathing, Buck pressed against him like he’s never letting go. The sunlight shifts through the blinds, painting lines across the floor, across them, and for the first time in a long time, Eddie feels the weight in his chest loosen, just a little.
There’s no perfect fix, no sudden erase of the hurt and mistakes, but there’s this. There’s right now.
And maybe that’s enough to start, to start rebuilding the pieces they’d broken apart, together. Buck finally lifts his head just enough to catch Eddie’s eye, and there’s a tremor of a smile in both of them.
“We’ll figure it out,” Eddie murmurs, voice low, certain. Buck nods against his shoulder, letting the first thread of hope crawl its way back in.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “We’ll figure it out.”
–
Later, the front door creaks open, jolting Eddie awake, though Buck just mumbles something in his sleep and burrows closer into Eddie’s chest. Eddie stifles a laugh at the drool soaking his shirt before glancing at Chris in the doorway, Pepa behind him, both looking like little detectives caught mid-case with wide, expectant eyes. Eddie gives a sheepish smile and ducks his head, then rolls his eyes at the enormous grins on their faces.
“Come in and shut the door before you wake him,” Eddie whispers. Who knows when Buck last got proper sleep, and Eddie isn’t about to be the one to ruin it.
Chris tiptoes inside, but of course, tiptoeing is not his strong suit. Pepa waves them goodbye as she closes the door, leaving Eddie to brace for what’s coming. Chris saunters toward his room but spins back with a sly look.
“So… you apologized?” he asks, eyebrow raised like a tiny lawyer grilling a suspect.
“Yeah, bud. I apologized,” Eddie replies, chuckling, carefully running a hand down Buck’s back when he stirs and whimpers in protest.
Chris beams. “Good. But… did you ask him about the other thing?”
“What other thing?” Buck mumbles from his perch on Eddie’s chest, still half-asleep. Eddie freezes, shooting Chris a warning glare that says how dare you, silently scolding him for both waking Buck and forcing this conversation.
Because Eddie had a plan earlier. He just… didn’t know if Buck would forgive him fast, slow, or not at all. Either way, he knows exactly how to remind Buck this is their family.
But then, in slow motion, Chris opens his mouth, grins ridiculously wide, and blurts:
“Adopting me!”
Before Eddie can even react, Chris spins on his crunches and dashes down the hall, leaving Eddie blinking at Buck, whose half-asleep expression is somewhere between confusion and panic, and Eddie realizes… yeah, this is it. This is why it was all worth it. All the tears, the distance, the fighting, the long, long road of healing ahead of them.
The rest of their lives.