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It happens during a normal call.
It’s something they could solve with their eyes closed, quick and easy, nothing more than a simple kitchen accident that got slightly out of control and set off the fire alarm. By the time the engine arrives on scene, the situation is pretty much under control and there’s nothing left to do but survey the damage and make sure no one is seriously injured. It’s one of those calls that makes Eddie wonder if people really pay attention during their fire safety lectures.
“Man, it’s been a boring day,” Buck chimes in next to him, his eyes shining with amusement and almost tipping sideways so he can bump his shoulder with Eddie’s.
Eddie snorts.
“Sure,” he agrees. “I guess it’s been pretty q-”
“Don’t,” Buck cuts him off, looking as scandalized as if Eddie had told him he kicked puppies in his spare time. “Don’t you dare say it.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes with a mix of exasperation and fondness that seems to be his default setting when he’s next to Buck. No matter how much his best friend insists otherwise, Eddie still doesn’t believe in all that jinxes and curses nonsense, just as he doesn’t believe in the magic of the universe or whatever it is that Buck says is screaming at them. But even though he absolutely doesn’t believe in any of it, a small part of him can’t help but find endearing the way Buck does.
“Don’t tempt fate, Diaz,” Hen says from her position next to the poor girl who called them, treating the light burns on her hands.
“We’re not having this conversation again,” Eddie mutters. “This stuff isn’t real.”
Hen opens her mouth to answer him, but the girl abruptly sits up and almost throws herself off the chair as she screams with a high-pitched note that makes them all jump. “Don’t touch that!”
Eddie hears the sound of something clacking and turns just in time to see Buck drop in surprise the small glass teapot that was still on the stove and that had been the reason for this whole ordeal. The teapot falls onto the counter and Buck nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to keep all the liquid from spilling. The room fills with an overpowering sickly-sweet smell that makes Eddie scrunch up his nose. Although Buck manages to straighten the teapot in time, that doesn’t stop him from ending up partially soaked in whatever was inside.
“Oh,” the girl sighs shakily and goes white so fast that Hen beckons Chim closer to them in case she passes out. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Buck looks at the girl with genuine remorse in his eyes and smiles nervously.
“I’m sorry,” Buck says earnestly.
The girl’s eyes are still wide with panic.
“No,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
The rest of the call proceeds in silence, the girl refusing to say anything else, but at least dutifully agreeing when they inform her that they’d better take her to the hospital so they can make sure everything is okay. They finish doing their checkup and by the time they all get into the truck, whatever that might have been is gone from their minds.
By the twenty-two-hour of their twenty-four-hour shift, Buck is practically falling asleep on his feet.
Eddie watches with something so achingly tender in his chest at the way Buck rests his forearms on the kitchen counter, staring at the cup of coffee in front of him as if it holds the secrets of the universe. His blue eyes blinking lazily, his fluffy hair curling around his ears and his cheeks rosy with exhaustion. He looks almost angelic and Eddie has to swallow hard to keep himself from spilling out all those things he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready to say.
“Are you going to keep staring at it or are you actually going to drink it?” Eddie asks.
Buck hums absentmindedly.
“I don’t know,” he replies. “It’s a great cup of coffee, it would almost be a shame to drink it.”
Eddie barely resists the temptation to run his fingers through Buck’s curls.
“You should go to the bunks,” Eddie murmurs instead. “It won’t be long before the shift is over, go get some rest.”
“I’m not tired,” Buck rebuts just to be contradictory. “Besides, I have coffee.”
Eddie leans slightly against Buck, draping one of his arms around him and lightly resting his chest against Buck’s back, telling himself that he’s just looking out for his best friend when he uses his position to grab the cup Buck had prepared and takes a sip.
“And now you don’t,” Eddie quips.
Buck melts against him, practically falling backwards and Eddie has to maneuver the cup to keep it from spilling as his heart does an inappropriate somersault inside his chest.
“Not tired,” Buck insists.
“Obviously,” Eddie accepts, but he hugs Buck a little bit tighter. “Come with me to the couch, let’s see how far we can get through a movie before the bell rings.”
Not even five minutes of the movie pass when Buck’s head lands on his shoulder and his soft breathing is the only sound Eddie can hear.
Eddie doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting in the same position before Bobby appears on the stairs and gives him a knowing look.
“He was tired,” is all he says in his defense even though he can feel his face burning.
Bobby just smiles.
“I’m sure he was,” Bobby agrees. “Shift’s over, you can take him home. I’m sure the two of you want to rest.”
Eddie doesn’t say that just having Buck’s warm body pressed against his filled him with more energy than a full night’s sleep.
“Buck,” Eddie says, gently shaking him. “Buck, wake up.”
Buck doesn’t move, his breathing doesn’t even change.
Assuming that Buck was far more tired than he had let on, Eddie shakes him more forcefully as he raises the volume of his voice. “Come on, Buck, it’s time to go home.”
Buck’s still asleep.
A note of panic breaks through Eddie’s body and he quickly sits up, taking Buck’s shoulders in his hands and shaking him as hard as he thinks he can without hurting him. Buck’s pliant and docile under his touch, not a single sign that he’s aware of what’s happening. Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat and his voice rise until it becomes a desperate cry in the form of his best friend’s name.
Suddenly there are other hands around him, taking Buck from his arms and Eddie fights for half a second before Hen’s voice commanding him to give her space filters through the white noise that takes over his mind. Eddie can only watch with his chest collapsing in on itself as Buck is surrounded by paramedics who are all desperately trying to wake him up.
Hen’s saying something about a regular heart rate, steady breathing, and normal pupillary response. Chimney’s frantically searching for the ammonia salts and Bobby’s on the phone with dispatch notifying them of what’s happening and putting the station momentarily out of commission. Ravi’s anxiously climbing the stairs carrying what are probably more medical bags than necessary. Everything around him is a flurry of activity.
And Eddie—
Eddie’s just staring at Buck.
He’s just staring at him with his hands shaking and feeling like there’s not enough oxygen in the room.
He can’t do anything but watch as the salts have no effect and Hen curses under her breath as she lays Buck back down on the couch and reports that they have to get him to the hospital. It’s only when he sees Bobby and Ravi getting ready to lift Buck that Eddie jumps into action and practically shoves Ravi away in his rush to get to Buck.
No one says anything when Eddie takes Buck in his arms, denying anyone’s help in carrying him. No one says anything when Eddie deposits Buck on the ambulance gurney with a gentleness that belies the panic engulfing his body. No one says anything when Eddie refuses to let go of Buck’s hand all the way to the hospital.
No one says anything and Buck just keeps on sleeping.
The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with Buck any more than they do.
Eddie’s trying really hard not to let the fear that wrapped itself around his heart explode into unnecessary anger at the hospital staff, who are doing everything in their power to try to figure out what happened to Buck and why he hasn’t woken up yet.
Because it’s not as if he is in a coma. His metabolic functions are working perfectly. He can breathe on his own and his heart is still pumping the way it’s supposed to.
His MRI scan showed normal results. His blood tests were normal. His cerebrospinal fluid tests were also normal. Buck’s body is in surprisingly amazing health and if it weren’t for the fact that, you know, he can’t wake up, Eddie would almost say he is in better shape than many of the doctors treating him.
He would definitely be in better shape than Eddie.
He’s coping just fine, okay? He is.
Buck’s doctors are starting to consider Kleine-Levin syndrome. Which is a gigantic red flag that Eddie hasn’t wanted to give thought to. He’s a medic, and he knows that, for them to even think about that option when Buck showed none of the usual symptoms or triggers prior to that syndrome, means that they’re running out of ideas.
Worst of all, they could be right.
“Sleeping beauty syndrome,” Chimney mutters. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t,” Maddie replies. She looks worn out. Ironically, she looks like she hasn’t been able to sleep a wink while her little brother is peacefully sound asleep. Her eyes are lined with red and Eddie thinks that the only reason she hasn’t broken down in tears is because she wants to stay strong for Buck. For Chim. For Jee-Yun.
Eddie feels his throat close up.
And Buck remains asleep, oblivious to the conversation around him.
“But it doesn’t match,” Hen retorts, saying aloud what Eddie was thinking earlier. “He had none of the previous symptoms. Nor was he exposed to any of the triggers.”
“That doesn’t really mean anything,” Chimney says softly. Gently. As if they were made of glass. In other circumstances, Eddie would bristle, but right now he appreciates the consideration. “It’s a rare thing, and none of the cases have been exactly the same.”
“But he’s healthy,” Hen insists. “Perfect bill of health. He doesn’t even seem to need the IV. He’s literally just…”
“Asleep,” Eddie interrupts her. His voice’s hoarse from disuse or perhaps from the permanent lump in his throat.
“Yeah,” Hen nods and suddenly she seems to be holding back tears and Eddie averts his eyes. “He’s just asleep.”
“What else could it be?” Chim asks. “There aren’t many other explanations.”
There’s no other explanation.
But Eddie’s trying not to think about that.
“We’ll know more when he wakes up,” Maddie says instead of letting someone else respond. Her hand gently strokes the curls on Buck’s head.
When.
Not if.
When.
Things are tense back at the station.
No one can quite forget what happened the last time Buck was on medical leave. And if back then Eddie had felt his partner’s absence as if he’d lost a limb, now it’s a thousand times worse. Eddie feels like he’s walking on automatic, not really paying attention to things. Buck has left behind a pain that takes root deep down to his very soul. A pain that is almost overwhelming. Unbearable.
“Maybe what happened with that girl has something to do with this?” Chim says out of the blue.
Everyone immediately tenses up.
“What girl?” Hen asks with narrowed eyes.
“The girl from the kitchen fire,” Chim replies. “You know, the girl who panicked because Buck spilled her tea.”
“What’s she got to do with anything?” Hen demands.
“I don’t know,” Chim exclaims, shrugging. “But it was the last call we had before, well, you know. Maybe there was something in the house or maybe Buck’s allergic to some of the herbs in the tea.”
“Buck’s not allergic to any herbs,” Eddie instinctively interrupts and then consciously ignores the looks everyone gives him. He’s fine.
“Do you think she’ll give us any answers?” Bobby speaks for the first time since the debrief at the beginning of the shift. He (just like Maddie; just like Eddie) looks like he hasn’t been able to sleep since Buck closed his eyes and didn’t open them again.
“No harm in trying,” Chim says.
“Okay,” Bobby agrees. “We can pay her a visit after the shift is over.”
Eddie wants to go with them, he really does. He wants to demand answers and solutions, wants to let himself fall into his anger —his rage— and be able to blame someone for what’s going on, but he can’t do that.
He can’t because he promised Chris that, in the afternoon, he’d take him to see Buck. Eddie knows he can’t keep putting it off forever and that he needs to stop keeping Christopher in the dark, but the thought of having to explain to him that Buck’s asleep and that there’s an increasing chance he won’t wake up again makes him want to run as fast as he can in the opposite direction. Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with even the slight implication that Chris’ going to lose another parent.
That he’s going to lose another partner.
But the only thing Eddie can do now is wait for someone —anyone— to give them the answers they so desperately need.
He takes it back. He doesn’t want answers. He, specifically, doesn’t want these answers.
“What?” Hen asks with a note of hysteria in her voice.
Eddie can’t even form words.
“She said it’s a curse,” Chim repeats. It doesn’t really make more sense the second time he says it either. “That what Buck spilled was a potion with a sleeping curse.”
There are so many things wrong with that sentence that Eddie doesn’t even know where to begin.
“She said she’s a practicing witch,” Bobby says and honestly the words sound less ridiculous coming from Chimney than they do from their captain. “And that she hadn’t been sure if the curse would work and that’s why she didn’t say anything earlier.”
“This is insane,” Hen says. “I know we make jokes about jinxes and all that hocus pocus, but this can’t be real.”
“She seemed pretty convinced,” Chimney replies.
“She was also really scared,” Bobby adds with an empathetic look. “There’s no way she faked that.”
This can’t be happening. These things are impossible. Eddie doesn’t —can’t— believe this for a second.
But.
Goddammit.
Eddie clenches his fists in his lap until they turn white.
Buck would believe this. Buck would believe and accept even the most absurd and impossible solution if it meant saving someone he loved.
“How do you break the curse?” Eddie finds himself asking.
Chim grimaces.
“The same way you break any curse,” he says. “With a true love’s kiss.”
Everyone in the room freezes and Eddie wants to bang his head against the wall.
They’re going to have to call Taylor.
Taylor and Buck’s relationship fell apart as quickly as it started.
Eddie doesn’t exactly know what happened between the two of them, but Buck’s quite insistent that they ended on good terms and that they remain friends. Eddie, who never liked Taylor and liked her even less when she hogged his best friend’s attention, didn’t bother to really question what had happened and just accepted the fact Buck was (his) single again.
To Taylor’s credit, they don’t have to tell her anything more than that Buck is in the hospital for her to come running. No questions asked and no explanations needed.
“Oh, Buck,” Taylor sighs and Eddie knows he should give them some privacy but finds himself unable to move from his position beside the hospital bed where Buck has been asleep for over three days. The fact that Maddie’s at his side, cutting off the circulation to his arm with how tightly she’s holding him doesn’t incite him to move any time soon either.
There’s fondness in Taylor’s expression, a genuine affection that makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He has to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything when Taylor sits on Buck’s bed and places a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing. For a moment, time seems to stand still and the three of them just watch impassively as Buck breathes, breathes and breathes.
Then Taylor leans down and connects her lips to Buck’s.
The contact’s sweet and brief, nothing more than a few seconds and Eddie vaguely wonders why they broke up when Taylor clearly has no qualms about showing them how much she cares about Buck.
The kiss ends and everyone holds their breath.
One, two, three seconds.
Nothing happens.
Taylor’s lower lip quivers.
“It’s not me,” Taylor whispers and leans in again to kiss Buck’s cheek. “I never have been.”
No one knows what to say and the silence becomes oppressive. Maddie digs her nails into his arm and Eddie can only cling to her for dear life.
Taylor’s eyes lock on them. There’s something indecipherable in her gaze and Eddie immediately feels defensive.
“I’m sorry,” is the only thing she says.
Maddie’s the one who responds, which is good because Eddie doesn’t know what he’d say, but he does know it wouldn’t be nice.
“Thank you,” Maddie murmurs. “For trying.”
“For him?” Taylor chuckles wetly. “Always.”
And with that, Taylor leaves as quickly as she arrived.
The fact that Taylor didn’t wake Buck up, contrary to what Eddie thought would happen, just further fuels the strength with which they cling to the fact that what’s happening to them is a curse.
“I think we all knew Taylor wasn’t his true love,” Chimney comments. “So, we just have to find the person who is, and boom, problem solved.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Chim,” Hen retorts. “Buck hasn’t exactly been known for having relationships that are fairytale-like.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Chim argues. “If it’s true love, that should be enough to break the spell.”
“Well, in that case, why does it have to be romantic love?” Ravi chimes in. These past few days the probie has been pretty quiet and out of the way. Eddie probably doesn’t feel as concerned as he should, but in his defense, his mind is stuck beside a hospital bed and it doesn’t seem particularly keen to go back to him. “In the original fairytale, Sleeping Beauty was woken up by her children, not Prince Charming.”
“That’s a good point,” Hen says with a gentle smile, Ravi lights up considerably and smiles back. “And everyone here has plenty of love to give to Buck.”
Eddie has never kissed Buck.
The two of them are essentially joined at the hip, and Eddie knows that they are a lot more touchy-feely than other people. It’s usual for them to be in constant contact with each other, whether it’s through bumping shoulders, a hand on the lower back, or outright hugs that last longer than necessary. Buck thrives on physical affection, and Eddie’s weak and can’t ever deny him anything.
He has never kissed Buck.
His lips have never met his warm skin. He has never allowed himself to cross that line, that point of no return. Eddie knows that a simple kiss —even a safe, platonic kiss— would be enough to ruin him.
But Buck has kissed Eddie.
It’s a memory Eddie jealously guards in the corner of his mind where he holds the feelings he has for his best friend. It was during a night when he was crumbling after one of the recurring nightmares that arose after the shooting and Buck woke him up and held him while Eddie tried to convince himself that he was home, that Christopher was sleeping peacefully in his room, that Buck was safe and sound by his side, that he was okay.
When he calmed down, Buck smiled at him and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. Fleeting and gentle. Almost absentmindedly. Just another token of affection.
The first and only time Buck kissed Eddie was because he was trying to comfort him. It was a precious thing, really. And Eddie doesn’t want the first time he kisses Buck to be to try to wake him up from a curse he’s not quite sure he believes one hundred percent yet. Eddie feels cheated that they’ve been robbed of this moment. That something he’s wanted to do since practically the first moment he met him now has to be done as a cure that might not even work.
The last few days Buck’s hospital room had been full of visitors. Practically everyone took the opportunity to come and try to wake him up with a kiss. Eddie knows that Maddie and Chimney were among the first to try, Chim planting an exaggerated, playful kiss on the crown of Buck’s head, while Maddie gently kissed his cheek, cradling his face in her hands.
And Buck still didn’t wake up.
After that, practically everyone in the station took a turn.
“He still hasn’t woken up,” Eddie whispers, one of his hands close to Buck’s where it’s resting on the bed, their pinkies barely touching. Eddie tells himself that he’s not a coward for not taking his hand.
“Have you tried it yet?” Bobby asks, sitting in the chair opposite to Eddie, rosary beads in his hands.
“Have you?” Eddie questions back.
Bobby laughs. A laugh that’s trying to mask a sob.
They’re both afraid that it won’t work.
That neither of them will work.
“I thought about calling Abby,” the words burn all the way from his throat until they leave his lips, but Eddie has to say them. “About making up some excuse to make her come.”
The very idea of Abby being Buck’s true love seems unthinkable to him. Eddie’s opinion may be biased; however, he doesn’t believe that what there used to be between the two of them is or even ever would have been that kind of love. Eddie can’t allow it to be, not when he still remembers as clearly as if it were yesterday the way Buck broke down in his arms after meeting with her and asking for an explanation. An explanation he received even if he didn’t receive an apology.
“But you didn’t,” Bobby says.
Eddie sighs.
“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”
They both know it wouldn’t work.
(Or at least Eddie wants to convince himself it wouldn’t).
They spend the next few minutes in pleasant silence, lost in their own thoughts. Eddie has to leave soon to pick up Chris from school and then he has to go to his abuela’s house to fix her sink. It seems almost unfair the way Eddie’s life keeps moving forward when Buck’s not by his side. He feels that, just like in the story of Sleeping Beauty, the world should’ve fallen asleep altogether with Buck.
Eddie stands up and stretches, trying to unwind his muscles and Bobby gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. They say a brief goodbye and Eddie leaves.
Hours later, lying in bed and trying to sleep, Eddie receives a single text message.
It didn’t work.
He’s alone in Buck’s hospital room.
Eddie thinks about kissing him.
He thinks about how easy it would be, to just sit next to him on the bed and lean over to press his lips to his. Or maybe not even that. Eddie could kiss his head as lightheartedly as Chimney did or his cheek like Maddie and Hen did. Eddie could even kiss his forehead the same way he kisses Christopher’s. Something soft, sweet and innocent. The kind of touch Buck deserves more than anyone else in this world.
Eddie could kiss his birthmark; those adorable little red dots that always make Eddie ache with how much he adores that face and the person it belongs to.
“Would you wake up?” Eddie whispers, his voice barely an exhale of air. A confession only for Buck. “Would you wake up for me?”
Buck doesn’t answer.
Eddie misses his voice. His laugh. The color of his eyes.
He misses him so much.
Eddie leans in, his face hovering over his best friend’s. So close he can count his eyelashes and feel his warm breath against his lips. Eddie looks at him and finally understands what all the poets were trying to say when they wrote that love was simultaneously destruction and creation. Both agony and pleasure. Peace and despair.
Eddie thinks about kissing his best friend.
But he doesn’t.
Buck wakes up one late afternoon in spring.
Thirteen days after he fell asleep.
Christopher’s lying against Buck, animatedly telling him about all the things he’s done at school over the last week. Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat at the way the two of them look so right together. The most important people in his life pressed together as if nothing could ever keep them apart. Eddie has never been so aware of the fact that his heart no longer belongs to him, that hasn’t for years, as he’s now watching his baby boy nestle against Buck’s sleep-warm body.
“It’s getting late, Chris,” Eddie interrupts him, even though his whole being is screaming at him to let them be. “We’ve to get home.”
Chris’ small hands cling to Buck and his lower lip trembles. And Eddie understands, he truly does, but they can’t spend all their time in the hospital, no matter how much they both want to.
“Say goodbye,” Eddie continues. “We can come back and visit tomorrow after school, okay?”
“Okay,” Christopher agrees in a quiet voice.
Eddie watches him sit up and place both hands on Buck’s chest, supporting himself so he can lean in and give him an awkward kiss on the nose. It’s the kind of kiss Buck loves to give Chris because it never fails to make him laugh and Eddie feels his eyes burn.
Chris is about to get off the bed when he suddenly freezes. Eddie has a moment of panic, wondering what’s wrong now, when he sees what made his kid stop moving.
One of Buck’s hands moves, positioning itself over Chris’ hand and keeping them both against his chest. Eddie holds his breath as he watches Buck stir in the same way he does after they’ve had a long shift and he doesn’t want to get out of bed the next day.
Hope, unyielding and powerful, burst through Eddie’s chest like wildfire.
“Bucky?” Christopher asks, his voice as small as it hasn’t been for years. That nickname is almost as rare to hear these days as daddy.
Buck opens his eyes sleepily.
“Christopher?” Buck slurs.
(In the original fairytale, Sleeping Beauty was woken up by her children, not Prince Charming.)
Eddie’s frozen. His body feels numb and bells are ringing in his head. There’s something in the back of his mind that is screaming that of course, of course if there is anyone that Buck would do the impossible to come back for it would be Chris. It would be their son. Eddie feels stupid that this wasn’t his first thought to break the curse.
Because what other love could be more powerful than the one Buck feels for Christopher?
A second passes. Two, three.
And then Eddie stumbles forward, slipping an arm around Chris and unceremoniously crashing them both into Buck. Beautiful Buck who laughs, soft and lovely, and tries to hug them back as much as he can with his stiff arms.
“Welcome home,” Eddie blurts out, feeling the love in his chest ready to explode.
Buck smiles, smiles and smiles.
The doctors are baffled.
Buck’s in perfect health and if it weren’t for the fact that they tried every method in the book to try to wake him up and nothing worked, Eddie would think it was all a sick joke. Buck literally just went to sleep and woke up two weeks later fresh as a daisy and now everyone’s dumbfounded.
“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks, unceremoniously dropping next to where Buck’s sitting on the bed a duffle bag with his change of clothes.
Buck frowns. “Mostly confused.”
“Why?” Eddie says absently as he starts pulling out the clothes and passing them to Buck. Eddie’s thinking about what he needs to do to take care of Buck’s discharge when he takes one of his hands.
“Because I just went to sleep,” Buck confesses softly, and Eddie immediately stops what he’s doing in order to look at him. Eddie can see a hint of apprehension in his blue eyes and something in his chest tightens. “I don’t remember anything but going to sleep like any other day and then suddenly I wake up in the hospital and everyone’s losing their minds because apparently my nap lasted a fortnight.”
No one has told him about the sleeping curse, mostly because they think that it will be best if they wait to tell him until he’s discharged. Freshly out of the hospital isn’t really the time to spur him with the news about evil curses and magic and fairytales. And even though Eddie agreed with them then, now he sees how that might’ve not been the greatest of ideas.
“Hey,” Eddie pulls him into a hug, allowing Buck to rest his head against his stomach. “You’re okay, everything’s going to be okay.”
Buck trembles and Eddie squeezes him a little tighter.
“This wasn’t your fault,” Eddie whispers. “And if we’re worried, it’s because we care about you.”
“I know,” Buck whispers back.
Buck’s awake and Eddie thinks about kissing him.
He thinks about comforting him as Buck had done after his nightmares. To lean down and press his lips against the crown of his head. To stroke those curls, cradle the back of his head and tell him it’s all right, that he’ll take care of him.
Buck’s awake now.
And Eddie thinks about how he should have kissed him when he had the chance.
In a silent agreement, Eddie brings Buck home.
Most of his first day out of the hospital Buck spends it catching up with Christopher. Most of that same day, Eddie hovers around him, trying not to show how worried he really feels. Everything’s normal for a bit, they have dinner and watch a movie, but when it’s time for Chris to go to bed, he knows he’s not doing a very good job of hiding how extremely anxious he’s for Buck to go to sleep.
His best friend just gives him a timid smile.
“I’ll be fine, Eds,” Buck says, comforting and perhaps with a slight hint of amusement. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie breathes, swallowing hard, not entirely convinced that this is a good idea. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”
He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he abruptly wakes up and a pang of panic makes him jump out of bed and essentially stumble into the living room where he heads straight for the couch. He only feels his heart calm down a little when he sees Buck there, sleeping. As safe as he could be. Protected in Eddie’s (their) home.
Eddie wants to wake him up, wants to prove to himself that Buck will wake up if he touches him, if he talks to him. That the curse won’t happen again.
“Eddie,” Buck mumbles and startles him so badly that he almost trips backwards. “Eddie, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Eddie replies, a little breathless. “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”
Buck hums, already more asleep than awake. “Okay.”
Eddie sits down next to him and doesn’t move from that spot until the sun starts to rise in the morning.
Not surprisingly, Buck takes the whole curse thing astonishingly well.
“It’s reassuring in a way, you know?” Buck says. “A curse means that what happened was a one-in-a-million fluke. I’m safe now.”
Eddie understands that, and he’s glad that the weight that had settled on Buck’s shoulders about the lingering uncertainty of whether he’ll fall asleep and not wake up again is gone.
But something shifted between them.
Something Eddie probably wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been hyper-aware of all the things Buck did these past few days. And it’s not even something remotely bad, at least not in the broadest sense of the word, but it’s definitely bad for Eddie’s poor heart.
It’s like something almost sort of softened in Buck. Eddie can’t quite put his finger on it, but now his best friend seems a lot more loose and settle when he’s by his side. Eddie feels like their relationship took a step forward, but he still doesn’t know where they’re headed. All he knows is that Buck no longer has any qualms about relying on Eddie, about letting the accidental touches linger, about finally filling the place Eddie had carved out in his home and his heart for him.
Eddie doesn’t know what changed, but he’s afraid that the illusion of domesticity and happiness will shatter the moment he questions it out loud.
Everything shatters anyway one night when they’re sitting on the couch watching a movie.
Eddie stopped following the plot half a movie ago, all of his focus on Buck’s welcome (beloved) weight slowly sliding toward him until he ends up partially leaning against him, his head tucked under his chin. Eddie swallows hard and shakily slips an arm around Buck, wondering what the hell he’s doing, but his best friend only curls closer against him. Eddie feels himself unraveling.
The movie credits roll and Buck lets out a yawn that Eddie probably shouldn’t consider as adorable as he does.
“I think we should go to sleep,” Eddie says.
“Nah,” Buck immediately retorts. “We can still see another movie.”
“You’re falling asleep, Buck,” Eddie points out.
“I’ll be fine,” Buck dismisses. “One more movie.”
Usually, Eddie’s pretty useless when it comes to denying Buck anything, but there’s something about this whole situation that sounds all too familiar to that moment at the end of their shift when Buck fell asleep against his shoulder and didn’t wake up that Eddie can’t help the way he wants to keep them from accidentally falling asleep on the couch again. He doesn’t think his heart could handle another scare like that. He never again wants to feel Buck’s unresponsive body in his arms. Never again.
“Your back’s going to kill you if you fall asleep sitting up,” Eddie says in a choked voice, trying and failing to make light of the matter.
Buck sits up slightly, not separating himself any further than necessary so he can look Eddie in the eye.
“I’ll be fine,” Buck repeats before smiling bashfully. There’s something achingly vulnerable in his eyes that makes Eddie have to suppress the urge to wrap his arms around him and never, ever let go. “Besides, if I fall asleep you can always wake me up like you did before.”
Eddie’s mind halts.
“What?” Eddie exhales.
Buck blushes.
“You know,” Buck looks down and his blush becomes even more prominent. Eddie yearns, yearns and yearns. “Like in the hospital.”
“I…” Eddie tries to say something, but his mind’s still stubbornly out of commission. “I didn’t wake you up.”
Buck’s eyes shoot to him.
“What?” now it’s Buck’s turn to sound shaky and Eddie hates that he brought this upon them. “But I thought…”
“It was Christopher,” Eddie explains quickly, his heart beating furiously inside his chest and his hands shaking. “He was the one who woke you up.”
A series of different emotions flash across Buck's face, so fast that Eddie can’t keep track of them, before his entire frame relaxes and something like wonder, something like devotion takes over his features. Buck lights up brighter than daylight, as if the thought that Chris loves him is brand-breaking news and not one of the universal truths of their lives. Eddie doesn’t really have the mental capacity to focus on that, though, because he’s still stuck on the fact that Buck thought he’d been the one to break the curse.
Buck thought Eddie kissed him.
Buck thought that Eddie —broken, worn out, troubled— was his true love.
“You thought…” Eddie whispers. “You thought that I…”
Immediately Buck looks mortified.
Eddie simply can’t allow that.
“I talked myself out of it,” Eddie admits then. All of his feelings overflowing with the fervent, dizzying possibility that he’s just one step away from gaining something wondrous. Buck looks at him with so much hope in his eyes that Eddie feels he would do anything not to let him down. “But I wanted to do it, you’ve no idea how much I wanted to do it.”
“Why didn’t you?” Buck asks, his cheeks still flushed sweetly and his eyes shining like stars. Eddie loves him so much it hurts.
“Because I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up,” Eddie answers. “I was afraid that it wouldn’t be me.”
Buck lets out a little sound of distress and Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat.
“I would have,” Buck sounds almost desperate. “I would’ve woken up for you, Eddie. It’s always been you. Always.”
Truly, there’s only one thing Eddie can do after that.
He leans forward and —finally— crashes his lips against Buck’s.
Supernovas explode behind his closed eyelids and thousands of butterflies flutter in his stomach. His lips move softly against Buck’s and he feels something unfold in his chest. Nothing has ever felt as right as this. Buck lets out a whimper against his lips and Eddie becomes a bit frantic. The need to be closer, as close as possible, makes him wrap his arms around Buck and pull him against his body. Buck immediately follows his lead and drapes a leg over him, settling into his lap.
“I love you,” Eddie confesses when they break apart.
Buck laughs, joyful and delighted, and Eddie adores him.
“I love you, Eds,” Buck says back. “So much.”
Eddie smiles, the bubbling happiness in his chest spreading and filling every part of his body with a bright, lovely feeling.
“What are we going to do now?” Buck asks after they’ve spent a few minutes or an eternity exchanging lazy kisses.
Eddie knows Buck’s referring to whether they should watch another movie, go to sleep or do something else entirely, but he can only smile goofily and say:
“Now,” he declares. “We live happily ever after.”
Buck’s blinding smile is worth the cheesy line.
The next morning, Eddie wakes up Buck with a kiss.