Work Text:
Eddie would like it stated for the record that he doesn’t take days off. Ever.
Eddie has been working at the 118 for six years now, and minus his required leave for his injuries, therapy, or the occasional appointment that he can’t schedule for one of his days off for Chris he hasn’t willingly taken off work in all that time.
6 years.
He should honestly ask Bobby if it’s some kind of record. Buck would definitely give Eddie a run for his money, but if they added up all of their medical leave time he might just scrape by and beat Buck by a very slim margin…. Maybe.
Eddie would also like it stated for the record that when he is on duty, Buck tends to do less impulsive shit. The majority of those shifts he never misses are with Buck, so he’s usually able to wrangle Buck from jumping off high rises, or running blindly into burning buildings, or in this case, branching out on his own and getting knocked out cold by a falling beam.
Eddie takes his first day off in six years for a stupid dentist appointment that he could only get at 1:00 PM in the afternoon at his dentist’s new location in Long Beach - which in theory is only 30 minutes outside of L.A. but in reality is like an hour and a half with L.A. traffic at lunch time - and Buck gets hurt because he wasn’t right there to have his back.
Luckily Ravi wasn’t too far away from Buck’s last known location when his radio went quiet and his PASS device started going off, so he got out of there pretty quickly and he only ended up with minor burns, a nasty bruise to his back where the beam actually hit, and a concussion from where he slammed his head on the concrete floor. However, hearing Chimney listing those injuries from the back of a moving ambulance when he called Eddie did not make him any less anxious than when it had been a major catastrophic injury like a firetruck crushing his leg or a perfectly timed lightning strike.
“Eds, I’m fine. I told Chimney he didn’t have to call you.”
“And I told you that I would not be risking the wrath of Eddie Diaz when he found out from someone else hours later that you were in the hospital and we were the ones taking you in. Nuh, uh. I am not dealing with that, Buckaroo.”
Hearing Buck was clearly conscious enough to be bickering with his brother-in-law definitely helps settle Eddie’s nerves, and it makes it even better when Chimney tells him that they are only taking him to the hospital as a precaution, just to have him checked out, and that he will likely be discharged that evening.
“Okay, Buck, I’m going to swing by your place and grab some things, and then you’re coming home with me.”
“I’m fine.” Buck protests again, groaning.
“You know the concussion protocol, Buck. You need someone with you for the first twelve to twenty-four hours.” Eddie tells him, taking the exit for Buck’s apartment. “I have my key, so I’ll pack a bag for you and come pick you up.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Buck, let me take care of you, okay?” Eddie says, exasperatedly. “Besides, Chris is going to the movies tonight with his friends and I will be home all alone until at least 10:00 PM, bored of my mind if I don’t have you to look over, so really, you’re doing me a favor." Now, Eddie knows that he has him. Eddie knows that Buck simply can’t resist not helping Eddie, so after another groan of annoyance he agrees to Eddie’s plan.
Not long after he hangs up with Chimney, Eddie is turning into the parking lot of Buck’s loft apartment complex. He simply parks in his normal visitor spot, and jogs up the three flights of stairs with his key in hand. It doesn’t take long for Eddie to make his way inside, and up the stairs to Buck’s bedroom, snag the extra duffle bag that Buck keeps for personal use from his closet and starts running around the the bedroom, packing Buck’s things.
After many trips to the hospital and planned sleepovers at the Diaz house, Eddie feels like he has Buck’s drawers practically memorized. He has a dresser across from his bed, that houses his casual clothes. The top drawer is for socks and underwear, the second for t-shirts, the third for shorts, the fourth for hoodies, and the fifth for sweatpants. Eddie carefully combs through and picks out a couple of items from each drawer, making sure to snag Buck’s favorite white hoodie since he’s always cold, and his favorite pair of cozy socks that have little fire hydrants on them, that Chris picked out for Buck for Christmas last year.
With a quick sweep of the bathroom, Eddie fills up Buck’s toiletry bag with his toothbrush, deodorant, and mouthwash since he’s particular about those things, and decides that Buck can use Eddie’s things to shower with like he usually does. He considers packing Buck’s razor but also decides against that, knowing Buck has been growing his facial hair out in between shaves lately, enjoying having more stubble. Eddie is absolutely not complaining about that development, loving the look of it and wishing that he would feel it on his skin. The stubble plus Buck’s hair loose of the gel, leaving his natural messy curls to run free… Eddie might have to physically restrain himself from running his hands all over Buck’s face when he wakes up in the morning.
This obsession with Buck’s hair (and facial hair) is a new one, but the feelings that accompany it aren’t. Well, to an extent. After several long discussions with Frank, Eddie came to the realization that he’s been thinking about love, and being in love , wrong for years. He’d talked with Frank about his feelings for Marisol (and Ana) and about he they didn’t feel the same way he’d felt about Shannon, and that he was trying to recapture that feeling he’d had before, but nothing seemed to be working for him. That had led them down a rabbit hole about Shannon, and their relationship, and how they met in high school, and they were best friends, and how everyone said that they would be perfect together so they should be. How they felt pressured to start dating, but that really their dating wasn’t too different than them being friends. They didn’t change up much, except for the expectation that they have sex.
But that got Frank thinking, and led them down the path of “What kind of relationship did you prefer to have with Shannon? When you were just friends, or when you were romantically together?” And well the whole point of therapy is to be honest so Eddie told him that he loved Shannon - still loves Shannon, and always will love Shannon - but he didn’t feel as much pressure on their relationship when they were just friends. He misses having her around, misses their dynamic, the connection that they shared, but if he was being honest the sex and the romance just complicated their relationship. He had started to say that he almost wished they never brought the sex aspect into their relationship but then quickly disagreed with that because that is how he ended up with Christopher, and Eddie would never regret that at all.
So, Frank had switched tactics and brought Eddie towards thinking about his platonic relationships, and wanted to compare them to his relationship with Shannon. Specifically, Frank asked him to focus on his relationship with Buck, seeing as Buck was more than likely going to be the one picking him up from that appointment, and that Eddie probably talks about Buck just as much as he does himself during these sessions, so Eddie told him about their relationship. He talked about how they made a pact back during his first week on the job to have each other’s backs and that they have never broke it. He talked about Buck’s presence in his home, the dinners, the homework sessions, frequent sleepovers on Eddie’s couch that he thinks is uncomfortable, but Buck insists is the best couch he’s ever slept on. He talked about Buck’s relationship with Christopher too, and how he put Buck in his will to be Chris’s legal guardian - and Frank had to physically take a moment to stop gaping like a fish after he said that.
That seemed to have broken something in Frank, so he took Eddie down a new line of questioning, where he wanted Eddie to compare his feelings about Shannon’s death to Buck’s when he was struck by lightning. So, Eddie talked about his grief over Shannon, about being in the back of the ambulance with her, and wanting her to not talk because she was in pain and he didn’t want her to suffer, and how he’s not sure he’ll ever fully be able to let it go, but that he and Chris have found a way to move forward.
But when he talked about his reaction to Buck’s death, he told Frank about the moment that he saw Buck get struck by lightning, about the gutteral reaction he had to seeing him hanging there, and about racing up the ladder and screaming for Buck to talk to him. He told him about restarting Buck’s heart, and begging the nurses in the ER to save him. He told him about his unwillingness to go into the room with Buck unless he had to because he couldn’t bear to see him like that, hooked up to those machines, being so quiet - so un-Buck like. He told him about the breakdown that he had when he told Chris, about his son holding him, and comforting him because he couldn’t get through the whole thing without collapsing into tears.
He told him that he didn’t think he really took a full breath until Buck was able to take one on his own.
At that, Frank had completely set down his notebook and pen and settled for leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, and told Eddie to think about why he thinks his reaction to Buck’s death felt so differently than his wife’s. At first, Eddie had said, “Because Shannon was my wife, and Buck is my best friend.” After Frank had restricted himself from rolling his eyes - because that would have been incredibly unprofessional - he had asked Eddie, “What if it hadn’t been Buck that had been struck by lightning? What if it had been another member of your team? Hen? Chimney? Bobby? How do you think you might have reacted? Would their death - even temporary - give you the same reaction as it did with Buck’s? Would you have been unable to breathe until they did? Or would it have been something that you aren’t sure that you’ll ever to be able to let go of, but that you’d be able to move on?”
Frank had been so kind as to give him that question for homework, so he had had to wait another week before he could answer, “I love Hen, Chim, and Bobby, but I don’t think I would have reacted the same way as I did with Buck.” Which, Frank had simply replied, “Why do you think that is?” By the end of the hour, Eddie had understood that his mind had mixed up the differences between platonic and romantic love when it came to Shannon and Buck. That they reason they felt to different was because Eddie loved Shannon, but he is in love with Buck.
Since that appointment, Eddie broke up with Marisol and he and Frank have spent time talk about his sexuality, unpacking that decades-long repressed can of worms. He’s come to the realization that he’s gay, and very attracted to men. Specifcally, he is very, very, very attracted to Buck. It’s like once his mind let him think of Buck that way, it’s all he’s been able to focus on. Buck’s biceps popping out of the tightest fucking shirts Eddie’s ever seen, his ass and thighs in his work uniform, or even those damn suspenders from their turnouts. His unruly curls, fresh out of the station showers, and his hands running through him, and of course, the fucking stubble. He’s not sure he’s ever been so horny in his life.
He hasn’t told a soul about his realization or any of his talks with Frank, but it appears to be obvious to everyone except for Buck, because Hen, Chimney, and Ravi have all caught him starring just a little too long at Buck, or blushing from a compliment from his best friend, or leaning a little too close into Buck’s proximity, or practically growling when someone flirts with Buck on a call. He can’t help it though. He’s head over heels for his best friend, fucking sue him.
He finishes zipping up the duffle after adding Buck’s toiletry bag, his phone charger, and a pair of Buck’s running sneakers, and is about to head back down stairs when he notices the top drawer of Buck’s bedside table - specifically the slip of paper peeking out of it from where it hasn’t been shut all the way. Eddie didn’t think that Buck kept anything in his bedside drawer that he used that regularly and might need, but if it was recently opened, maybe it’s worth a quick look to see if he missed anything important.
So, he drops the bag back down on the foot of the bed, and heads over to the nightstand. When he opens the drawer, he realizes that the paper he saw wasn’t just a slip, but an envelope. In fact, there is a neat stack of envelopes, filled by the looks of them, and the one on top just seems to be out of place - like Buck had rushed slipping it back in the drawer before he left. He’s just going to straighten them up and close the drawer back when Eddie realizes that there is a name on the envelope, written in Buck’s neatest scrawl.
His name.
He pulls it out and notices that one underneath it is also addressed to him, and before he knows it he has taken the entire stack out of the drawer and spread them out of the bed’s comforter and sees that all of them - the whole damn stack of envelopes - have his name written on them, and a date imprinted on the back flap.
Eddie carefully turns them over, reading over the dates, seeing that they go back all the way to August of 2021, and are up to as recently as two days ago. Three years of letters - he hasn’t actually opened one yet, but that's what he’s assuming they are - sit before him. Addressed to him.
Three years of letters that Buck wrote, but never sent.
This, Eddie thinks, is dangerous territory. He should stack the letters back up, tuck them in the drawer and not look at them. Buck never sent them so clearly they weren’t meant to actually be read.
They’re Buck’s letters… but, they’re also his letters. His name is written on them clear as day. Buck doesn’t know any other Eddie’s, right? No, surely he would have mentioned another Eddie that he clearly cared enough about to write a dozen or so letters to. So, they have to be for him.
He knows he’s probably being nosy, and invading Buck’s privacy, but he throws all caution to the wind and picks up the letter with the earliest date on it, and opens it up. He sinks down on the bed as he unfurls it, takes a deep breath, and reads. And once he starts, he can’t seem to make himself stop.
August 8th, 2021
Eddie,
The last time I wrote a letter I was in the seventh grade. My school had set up this penpal program with another school in New York and I jumped on the opportunity to meet someone new. His name was Alex and he lived in Brooklyn and went to this science academy and learned all sorts of really cool things about space and animals - fun facts that I’ve latched onto for years. I wrote to him all about biking and skateboarding, and all the shenanigans I did to get my parents attention. I guess he liked talking to someone who lived such a different life than him, and honesty I did to. I loved writing to him, and I practically waited by the mailbox every afternoon begging for a new letter from him. It was the highlight in the extra shitty situation that had become my childhood after Maddie left.
I guess what I’m try to say is, I’ve never written a letter like this. I’ve always written one begging for a response, but today I’m writing one that I never intend for you to read. See, Dr. Copeland thinks that I have too many thoughts just sitting on my chest that I need to release. Really they’re thoughts that I need to tell you about, but I just can’t. See the things I want to say… I’m too afraid for you to actually know them. Because these things could - probably will - cause me to lose you and Chris. So, I’m going to write you these letters so I can feel like I’m telling you, without actually jeapordizing the most important relationships I’ve ever had.
I guess the first thing I need to tell you is that I love you. Not just in a best friend way or in a brotherly way. No, Eds, I am totally, completely, madley in love with you. I have been for a very long time. If I’m being honest with you - and myself - it’s probably been since our first shift together. When we diffused that bomb and you told me you’d have my back… Damn Eddie I was sold from that moment on.
When did I know for sure? A few months back, when you were bleeding out in my arms in the back of a laddertruck, that’s when it clicked. I watched the life slipping away from you and I knew that what I felt for you was more than friendship. It took me nearly loosing you to realize, and now I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop thinking about it.
But, I know acting on this isn’t an option. You’re not in love with me. You’re dating Ana, and you’re happy. Christopher is happy. That’s more important than my untimely feelings for you. So, I’ll stop myself from blowing up everything we’ve built and just write to you instead. Maybe that will take some of the pain away. Maybe doing this on occasion will help me move on, or at least move forward. I’ve got to. At least, I have to try.
Thanks for reading, or not, I guess.
Love, Buck
Eddie simulatiously feels the happiest he thinks he’s ever been, but also has the biggest pit in his stomach. He’s been so worried that his feelings for Buck were one-sided, but this letter confirms they aren’t. The euphoria that rushes in his veins makes him buzz in anticipation. Buck is in love with him. Buck loves him back.
But then he looks at the date on the letter again. The only thing that this letter confirms is that Buck from August of 2021 was in love with Eddie. The letter said that Buck was going to try to move on from Eddie, as to not ruin their friendship. What if he did?
Looking over at the letters spread out around him, he realizes that he has to know if he was successful or not. So he picks up the next one, written a year later and dives back in.
September 19th, 2022
Eddie,
I need a couch. The problem is, I don’t want one. You said it yourself, all of my couches come with girlfriends, and I don’t want a girlfriend. I just want you.
I know that I am supposed to be trying to move on, and I really did try. I tried things with Taylor, I really did, but It’s not the same. I didn’t actually love her, I just wanted to.
What I’ve realized is that no one will ever compare to you, so why am I even trying? I’d rather sit on your couch next to you and Chris, knowing that you might not be in love with me, but at least I somewhat have you. And one day you’ll find someone to love and my spot on that couch will be taken by her. But until then, I will take what I can get.
Love, Buck
Relief washes over him when he finishes the letter, knowing that Buck from September of 2022 still hadn’t moved on from him. There are still so many more letters though. If Buck hadn’t moved on, then what is in the rest of the letters?
November 28th, 2022
Eddie,
Kameron is pregnant. I thought when I heard the news I would be happy, and for a few hours I was. But really, the longer I’ve sat with it, it’s just made me feel sad. You know I want kids of my own. I always have. And while this one is technically mine, Conner is the father.
Then I think of Chris, and Eds you know how much I love him. You are his father but I can’t help but love him like he’s my own flesh and blood. But even Chris isn’t mine either. In another life you’d love me back and maybe one day, Chris could be my kid, too. If that’s what he’d want, obviously. I know the idea of a ready-made family scares you, but some days it feels like we already are one. Just you, me, and Chris against the world. Do you ever think that? You probably don’t. God, I wish you did.
Love, Buck
The pit in his stomach opens back up when he reads this letter, and he has a feeling that they are all going to do that from here on out. But this one… this one he knows is his fault.
Eddie sat down Buck in the hospital room back in 2021 and told Buck that he put him in his will to be Chris’s legal guardian. He told him that he wasn’t expendable. He thought that Buck would understand just how important he is to their family. That even if Eddie didn’t know he was in love with Buck, he was still the most important person in his life besides Christopher. That he and Christopher needed - still need him. That the three of them are a family and have been since Buck took him to pick up Christopher after the earthquake.
It has always been the three of them against the world. He thought Buck knew that. Eddie didn’t think he was being subtle. He thought it was pretty obvious that he was telling Buck that he’s essentially Christopher’s second dad - God, Eddie thinks that point alone should have definitely tipped him off to his feelings sooner. Apparently, he needs to tell Buck explicitly what he thinks about this, and he will.
March 13th, 2023
Eddie,
When I was in my coma, I had this dream. I think it was meant to show me a perfect life, one that I had dreamt about for so long. In it, Daniel never died, and my parents loved me - like really loved me, the way they should’ve, you know? And I was a teacher to elementary schoolers. If I really think about it, in another life I probably would be a school teacher. You know me, I love learning and I love kids.
It could be perfect for me. But this life I was supposed to be living - this perfect scenario was anything but. For starters, I wasn’t friends with Hen or Chim anymore. They had no idea who I was. Doug was back and still married to Maddie, which instantly turned that dream into a nightmare. Bobby was dead, so let’s add dead parental figure trauma to this equation. And then there was you. Well, there was a lack of you. You weren’t there.
Dream Hen and Chim told me you had moved to LA, but you lost custody of Christopher - since I never introduced you to Carla, and you didn’t have the help you needed. So, instead you were this loud, angry guy that didn’t last very long at the 118. Having all of the chaos I mentioned before was awful, but then knowing I also didn’t have you… Eds, there is no perfect world that I could be living in that didn’t have you and Chris in it.
I did see Chris in my dream though. He was looking for you. I knew that I had to break out of there so that I could get back to the real you, and the real Chris. Bobby told me you brought him by to see me. Thank you for that. I wish I could’ve woken up for him. I hate the idea of him being upset that I wasn’t okay. I’d do anything to get back to him, and to you. After all, you both are, and always will be my whole world.
Love, Buck
He’s gotta do it today. He has to tell Buck today how loved he is, how important he is. He needs to know that he and Christopher are Eddie’s whole world. But, this is still Buck from earlier this year… He needs to keep reading. He needs to know that he’s not too late.
April 24th, 2023
Eddie,
I met someone.
Damn, that’s weird to write.
Her name is Natalia. Technically you met her, too. We all did. She’s the death doula - sorry, end of life doula - that we met on the funeral call the other day. She’s beautiful and kind, and has asked me a million questions about my death. It’s actually been kind of nice having someone look at it differently. That focuses on how cool it was that I’ve come back to life.
I don’t know if I feel like I’m fully back to life, but I’m trying. I think that part of me died with the lightning strike, and this version of me is just trying to make it. But, she’s helping. We’ve only had one date, but I think she’s starting to see the real me. And that’s something that I don’t think I’ve ever felt from anyone that wasn’t you.
Is she perfect? No. Am I in love with her? Not even close. But… Maybe one day I could be. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over you, but I with her I can try.
Love, Buck
Maybe he is too late.
Eddie starts to feel pressure brimming behind his eyes, as they glass over. The only thing that is officially keeping his tears from falling and smearing the ink on these pages is that he knows that Buck and Natalia broke up in June.
The next letter has a June 23rd, date written on the back. So, he hopes that’s what he’s going to read about. He feels awful for begging for that, for begging to read about Buck’s pain.
He knows that makes him selfish, but he also can’t stand the thought of reading the words, ‘I’ve finally moved on from you.’ So, he takes a deep calming breath, and flips the tab on the envelope, and goes back to reading.
June 23rd, 2023
Eddie,
Remember what I said about how Natalia could help me get over you. Scratch that. I broke up with her tonight. All she wanted to do was talk about death this, and death that. It was starting to get old. But, what I realized in all of that annoyance was that it showed me that Natalia was just another person in the sea of girlfriends that I’ve tried, and failed at to see if I can get over you. I tried again when I told myself that I should stop and here we are.
But I had to try, right? Because here you are dating Marisol. I don’t know much about her, but you seem happy. Then again, you did with Ana, too, but not everyone is going to be like Ana, right? This thing with Marisol seems to be working out, and I hate it. I hate that I’m not her. I hate that you don’t love me the way I want you to. God, that’s not fair to you, though. It isn’t your fault you aren’t in love with me. You deserve to be happy, Eddie, and I want that for you, I really do. I just wish you wanted it with me. So, I need to keep trying to move on, because my spot on your couch is finally being replaced.
Maybe I need to leave the girlfriends behind and try dating another man? I mean, I am bisexual, and you’re a guy. Maybe the only way to get over the unrequited love of a man is with another one? I doubt it, but maybe it’s worth a shot. Not right now though. I don’t think I handle another relationship with someone that isn’t you at this moment. Who am I kidding? I probably won’t ever be able to love someone that isn’t you. Not the way that I should.
Love, Buck
If Eddie could punch himself in the face, he thinks he would right about now.
He thought he wanted to read that Buck’s not over him, but reading Buck’s pain… God, it’s so much worse. To think that Buck wrote this letter devastated and thinking that Eddie didn’t love him, but at the end of the day just wants Eddie to be happy… he’d willingly sacrifice his own happiness for Eddie.
That is what finally makes his tears start to fall.
Buck thought that Eddie had replaced him on his couch, in his family. He was going to keep trying to move on - even though he didn’t really want to - because he thought it would be best for Eddie. When the entire time Eddie didn’t know, didn’t realize, that the person he wants more than anything in the world was already pining away for him, and had been for years…
When a stray tear smudges the ink of Buck’s signature, Eddie quickly tucks the letter back into its envelope and reaches for the next one. He needs to keep going. There are only a couple of letters left. He needs to catch up and see just how bad he might have fucked all of this up without realizing it.
July 14th, 2023
Eddie,
I kissed Tommy.
Okay, now that I’m writing that I feel like you might need some context before I just jump into it.
After we rescued Bobby and Athena, I reached out to Tommy. Him jumping in the deep in with us and helping us rescue Cap and Thena just… he really went for it you, know? He hadn’t been at the 118 in years, but he put everything on the line for us the moment that Chimney called, so I thought maybe he is someone that I should get to know. I didn’t know how I wanted to know him at first. I mean, I’d be crazy not to think he was attractive, but I don’t think I started out looking to date him. He’s a cool guy, and I just wanted to get to know him, and see where it goes.
But then I found out that you and Tommy had been hanging out and that began chipping away at me. Suddenly it was Tommy this and Tommy that, and you were spending all of your free time with him. Even Chris was seeing him, and I just… lost it. Because the thing is I knew that I had already accepted that fact that I was losing you to Marisol, but I couldn’t take the thought of also losing you to Tommy.
I was jealous. So irratiaonlly, horribly jealous that I took it out on you. You got hurt the basketball game, and I felt so fucking guitly the second it happened. I didn’t actually want to hurt you, at least… I don’t think I did. Everything came screeching to a halt and I don’t think I could handle losing everything. I’m sorry. I know you’re not reading this, so I’ll actually tell you in person, but I need to write it first, because it’s true. I allowed myself to be selfish for one day, and I hurt you. I never wanted to do that.
Anyway, back to the kissing part of this letter. Tommy came over to the loft to talk to me later. He was being so nice, apologizing to me for coming in between us. Talking to Tommy, I realized that he’s a lot like you. You both have backgrounds in the army, you have similar interests, hell, he was wearing a fucking henley just like you for Christ’s sake! Sure, he’s a little older than you, but you have a lot in common. I know this is crazy, but, I thought for just a second that maybe if I got to know him, if maybe I could fall for him, it would be as close as I could get to having you.
So, I kissed him. Right there in the middle of my kitchen where I have literally dreamt about kissing you, I kissed him. Just for a moment, he kissed me back, and I thought maybe, just maybe this could work.
But, he pulled back not long later, stepped away and shook his head. He clocked me right then and there. Told me that he liked me, but that he knew my heart wasn’t in this. That all of this jealousy I had wasn’t because I was jealous of you spending time with him, but of him spending time with you. With one fucking look he knew I was in love with you, and he refused to get in the middle of us because of it.
The thing is, before he left, he told me something that I’ve been holding on to. He said that even though you’re dating Marisol right now, that he thinks you’re in love with me, too.
His words have been on repeat in my brain for days. I honestly think I might be losing my mind over them, Eds. Because I have spent years thinking that you’re not in love with me. That this has been incredibly one sided because you have dated other women - given, so have I, but still. Until that day I didn’t have one reason to think that you love me back, but then Tommy says six little words and walks out the door without an explanation and I can’t seem to function. I have been grasping onto those words, clutching them to my chest in a death grip when I have no proof that he’s right.
So, I guess this is me taking the time to write them down, and loosen my hold on them. As of right now, I need to accept the fact that Tommy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I know you love me, but you’re not in love with me. You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise. Those words, they’re just words. They don’t mean anything unless I hear them from you.
Love, Buck
Eddie’s heart just keeps breaking for Buck the more and more he reads, and he keeps beating himself up more and more. Tommy knew. Tommy spent a few weeks with Eddie and knew how he felt about Buck. He knew that Eddie was hopelessly in love with his best friend and just buying his time with Marisol and didn’t say a thing to him about it. But instead, let Buck stew on that information.
Part of Eddie wants to call up Tommy and yell at him, ask him why he didn’t say anything to him about his theory. He wants to ask him why he would let Eddie still date Marisol if he knew Eddie didn’t want her. He almost does, he even reaches for his phone and pulls up Tommy’s contact. But, as his finger hovers over the call button, he knows his answer.
Eddie wasn’t ready to hear what Tommy had to say back in July. It took him nearly a month of talking with Frank about his feelings about Shannon and Buck to finally get him to admit he’s in love with Buck. It’s been another month of talks to understand his sexuality, his desires. It’s something that needed to come to terms with on his own, to understand about himself after believing one thing for so long. If Tommy had just dropped that bomb on him, he probably would have spiraled so hard he might not have been able to dig himself out.
He needed time. He just hopes he hasn’t needed to much time.
There’s only one letter left, dated two days ago. This is as close to real time as Eddie is going to get to knowing how Buck feels without directly asking him. For the final time, he lifts the envelope and reads on.
October 1st, 2023
Eddie,
You broke up with Marisol.
This isn’t exactly a new development, I guess. It’s been about a month. At least I think it is? You were kind of vague on the details when you mentioned it a few weeks back. I didn’t even know you were considering it. I know that you had that whole moving in fiasco, but even with that it seemed things were going good. You seemed, happy.
Well, I thought you were, but the last few weeks since you’ve broken up with her… It’s like you’ve been lighter. You’re more relaxed, smiling more, just… freer, I guess.
Then with me you’ve been different. Not a bad different, just… different. I am doing my best not to be delusional here, but there have been lingering looks and touches, and don’t even get me started on that guy that was flirting with me on that call last week. You might be giving me softer looks, but definitely not him. It was almost like you were… jealous.
But, that can’t possibly be right. You’re not jealous. You don’t get jealous. You said it yourself that you’ve never been jealous of some guy talking to Shannon or Ana or Marisol. It’s just not something you do, right? Those were your words, so clearly you couldn’t have been jealous. Then what did I see? Why did it seem like that?
It’s gotta be what Tommy said. I told myself that I had let his theory go. You’re not in love with me. Never have been, never will be.
Then why have these last few weeks given me hope? Why do I feel warmer when you’re looking at me? Why does it seem like you’re leaning into more of my touches? Why are you appearing jealous when I talk to other people on calls?
Is Tommy right? Are you really in love with me? Do things feel different because they are? Has something shifted in you?
God, Eddie I’m losing it all over again. I can’t keep doing this to myself, but I also can’t ask. It’s one thing to think you aren’t in love with me. It’s another to hear you deny it to my face.
There’s too much hope swelling in my chest. What am I supposed to do
The letter cuts off abruptly like Buck didn’t have time to finish it. Eddie thinks back to two nights ago, where he stopped by with Chris for dinner. They had surprised Buck, bringing pizza and beer. Eddie had let them in using his key and had called out to Buck that they were crashing his night in.
Buck must have been writing this letter when they walked in. He must shoved it in the drawer as fast as he could to hide it from Eddie, so that he wouldn’t read it. No wonder it was sticking out of the drawer. Buck hadn’t finished it that night, or had the time to go back to it. So Eddie wouldn’t know for sure what he settled on.
Did Buck think he had a chance with Eddie now? He’d clearly picked up what everyone else had been seeing, but had been convincing himself that he was wrong? If he kept writing would he have talked himself into believing it? More than likely he’d have finished the letter saying that it didn’t matter what his brain was telling him.
Buck had written in the letter prior, Those words, they’re just words. They don’t mean anything unless I hear them from you. Buck needs Eddie to tell him, clearly, with no room for interpretation that he was in love with him for him to let himself believe it. Then, that’s what he’ll do.
The thing about getting older, Buck has noticed, is that the more he gets injured on the job, the more he feels the consequences of it - not that he is going to fully admit that to anyone. But, if he’s just talking to himself, he’d have to say he’s sorer than he wants to be.
His injuries are minor, yet painful nontheless. A few baby burns that sting like a bitch, a concussion that is like a very dull, but constant throb at his temple, and his back is killing him, even though he knows he’s very lucky his O2 tank took the brunt of the hit from the beam. That tank is probably the only reason he doesn’t have rib-shaped puncture wounds in his lungs right now.
He’s grateful for pain medicine, not so much for his fear of getting addicted to pain medicine that he takes only half the recommended dosage. It’s working, but just barely, which is why he can’t help but wince as Eddie helps guide him through the front door of his house, and directing him towards the living room.
“Sorry.” He supplies, wincing in sympathy with Buck. “Sit down for a minute, I’ll go put your bag down in the bedroom and get some clean sheets on the bed for you.”
He has just settled down when Eddie tells him this, so he whips his head up when he speaks, a little too fast for comfort, and shuts his eyes tightly and lifts his hand to his head as it lets out a long throb. “What do you mean by clean sheets for me, Eds? I’m perfectly fine on the couch.”
“Buck, you’re hurt.” Eddie calls, already headed down the hallway. “You need to sleep in an actual bed not on my uncomfortable couch.”
While that might technically be true, Buck has no interest in kicking Eddie out of his own bed, especially not for some minor injuries.“The couch is plenty comfortable. I’ll be fine. This is your house, I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”
“First of all,” Eddie says, rejoining him in the living room as he passes through with a bundle of dirty sheets. “I might own his house, but this is your home, too, Buck.” Buck feels his chest tighten a little at that admission. He knows he’s been saying for years, “this is Eddie’s house. I’m not really a guest.” Which if he thinks about it, implies that he thinks of Eddie’s house as home. But, he didn’t realize that Eddie thought of it as Buck’s home, too.
“And second?” Buck croaks, before swallowing hard.
“You won’t be making me sleep on the couch. I’ll just sleep in the bed with you.”
If Eddie’s last reason had been surprising, this one takes the cake. Buck practically chokes on his own saliva this time, coughing to release some of the pressure building in his throat. Sharing a bed? They haven’t shared a bed since quarantine, back before Buck knew that he was hopelessly in love with his best friend. Back before he knew he’d wake up cuddled around the love of his life and would have no explanation to tell him why other than that he craves Eddie’s touch like a moth craves a flame. It’s dangerous for him to go after what he wants, not when he doesn’t know if Eddie feels the same way.
“Are you sure about that?” Buck says, voice wavering. “You know I snore, right? I’ll probably keep you up half the night. Trust me, you don’t want that.”
Eddie passes back through the room, and stops right behind Buck, leaning over the couch to gently squeeze his shoulder. He feels a shiver run down his spine as Eddie’s breath ghosts over his ear and he whispers, “Let me decide what I want, okay?”
He’s gone a second later, headed back towards the bedroom, with a set of fresh sheets in his arms, leaving Buck staring after him, gaping at him with each step he takes.
Look, Buck knows that he reads into things, but he’s been trying, really trying not to lately. But that… that felt like flirting.
Maybe the painkillers are fucking with him, but that would mean he’d have to be taking a high enough dose for that to happen and if the throbbing in his head is any indication, he’s definitely high enough to imagined Eddie flirting with him.
Eddie comes back a few minutes later after putting the sheets on the bed, and flops down on the couch next to Buck. You see, Buck is sitting towards the left edge of this three-seater sofa, yet when Eddie drops down, he settles right in the center, the heat of his jean-clad thigh seeping into Buck’s. To make matters worse, Eddie drops his hand to rest on Buck’s knee, giving it light squeeze.
Buck can’t take his eyes off Eddie’s hand, and swallows hard. It’s not like Eddie’s never put a hand on his knee before. He really shouldn’t be focusing on it, but everything from the past few weeks keeps washing over him, and Eddie sitting so close, and Eddie flirting, and now this. His mind is buzzing so much he completely misses, Eddie’s question.
“Buck?” He asks, shaking Buck out of his stupor.
“What?” Buck questions, sitting up straight and finally making eye contact with Eddie. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Eddie huffs lightly in amusement, his gaze softening as his lips gently quirk up. “I asked if you wanted to shower while I order us some food. Our resident chef is down for the count, so I was thinking Thai. Does that work for you?”
Eddie gently squeezes Buck’s knee again, and Buck barely stutters out,“Umm… yeah, that - that works.”
“Okay, I’ll make a call. You want your usual, right?” Buck simply nods, before Eddie gives him one final squeeze and jumps up and heads to the kitchen where they keep the takeout menus.
When Eddie leaves Buck immediately misses the warmth of his hand, and his thigh presses against him. He has to physically stop himself from chasing it, and instead gets up and heads towards the house’s one and only bathroom in the hallway. He carefully strips down, including the bandages that cover the small burns on his wrists on the small stretch of skin where his gloves didn’t cover and his turnout coat had ridden up when he fell.
The burns are so light that they barely needed any treatment, but Hen and Chimney had insisted on the nurses in the burn unit check him out and put a salve on it for even just a few hours to help him heal. A good wash and some aloe should do the trick after that.
He takes his time in the shower, partially because he loves the warm water pressure, and partially because his head is killing him, and fucking with his balance just a bit. He’s moving slower than usual as he washes his hair, using Eddie’s shampoo and conditioner. He wishes that Eddie was in here massaging it into his hair, sinkig his fingers into his scalp and rubbing at his temples. He almost moans in relief just thinking about it.
At the rate Eddie has been going recently, Buck probably could have asked him to do this and he would’ve jumped on it. Buck doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He guesses it depends on if Eddie was standing outside of it, and reaching in to help him, or standing naked in their with him. And now he’s venturing on dangerous territory of thinking about his best friend naked while he lathers himself in soap that smells just like him, and Buck has to force the shower to sprout cold water just to keep himself from getting hard at the fantasy of his best friend who is just right down the hall.
Once he water is running cold, Buck finishes up quickly, slipping out of the shower and grabbing a towel to dry off. In his rush to get away, Buck had completely bypassed the step of brining his clothes with him to the bathroom, so he dries off and wraps the towel loosely around his hips before he makes his way back down the hall, headed to Eddie’s room where his duffle is to change into his sweats. He’s not sure what Eddie packed, but worst case scenario he’s probably got an extra pair of everything somewhere in this house he can change into if Eddie missed something.
When he unzips his duffle the first thing he sees is an envelope sitting on top of his clothes. A plain white envelope with, ‘ Buck ’ written out on the front in what Buck can tell is Eddie’s handwriting. He carefully picks up the envelope, feeling that it has been sealed, and gently flips it over noticing that on the back flap today’s date, is written on the back. Buck freezes where he stands, heart rate jumping through the roof.
Maybe it’s a coincidence. How would Eddie know how Buck addresses his letters? He couldn’t possibly, right? It doesn’t matter if the date is written in the same spot as all of the letters he’s written to Eddie are, or if the envelope looks a lot like the ones he keeps in the second drawer of his nightstand, right below the stash of letters he’s written to Eddie are, or the fact that ink is a little smudged, and his favorite gel pen that he writes all of his letters with does the exact same thing… No, it’s a coincidence. It’s got to be.
Because the alternative is that Eddie read his letters. Eddie, his best friend that he is hopelessly in love with, ready his stack of letters that detailed his years-long yearning and longing for him. Those letters hold every moment over the past few years where Buck felt that he was at his most vulnerable. They’re thoughts that he wished he could share with Eddie if the stakes weren’t too high.
But that’s the problem, isn’t it? This isn’t some underground poker game, and he doesn’t have a secret weapon to help him win this game. No, the stakes are as high as they can get. This is his future with Eddie and Christopher on the line. The best friend he’s ever had (and the love of his life), and the kid he loves like he’s his own. The kid he’d fight a thousand tsunamis over. His fucking pride and joy. All of that could go away if Eddie read his letters. It’s not guaranteed, but highly likely. The odds are not in his favor.
He sets the envelope down gently, not opening it just yet. Instead, he combs through his bag and pulls out a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, his favorite hoodie, and his fire hydrant socks. His nerves don’t ease even as he puts on his favorite clothes that Eddie packed just for him. Eddie went to his house and picked out all of his favorites. Why?
Because he’s a good friend, and he knows what you want to wear to make you feel better , one part of his brain says. The other, more cynical part of his brain says, because he’s going to let you down gently and thought this might soften the blow .
When he’s fully dressed he sits down on the edge of the bed, starting down at the envelope in his hands. He should read it. Eddie packed it in his bag. It’s addressed to him. He’s clearly meant to read it.
Then why can’t he open it?
He reminds himself that whatever is in this letter, Eddie wants him here. Buck at least knows that’s true. He insisted on bringing Buck here - home, he referred to more than once. He packed all of Buck’s favorites. He’s insisting that Buck sleeping in his bed, with him. “Let me decide what I want, okay?” It’s what Eddie wants.
He takes a deep, shuddering breath and turns the envelope over. Carefully opening it, he pulls out Eddie;s letter, unfolding it and smoothing it out so he can read it. His vision is a little blurry, but he can still make out the words. He’s not supposed to read for very long while he has a concussion, and from the looks of it, the letter is just the front and back of the page.
You can do this , he tells himself.
So he does.
October 3rd, 2023
Buck,
I found your letters.
I know I wasn’t supposed to read them, but once I started I just couldn’t stop. I understand why you didn’t send them. It’s the same reason why I haven’t said anything either. But, since I’ve read your letters, it’s been made clear to me that you’re not going to risk speaking up, so I’ll have to do it - or write it.
Buck, I love you. I’m in love with you. And this part I think you really should highlight or underline so that you let it sink in: I will always be in love with you.
It took me way too long to realize how I felt. In fact, I’ve had a lot of sessions with Frank to help me understand it, but once it clicked, it’s like all of my feelings for you poured out of the floodgates. I realized I had always felt this way for you, but I just didn’t know what it meant until that moment in Frank’s office where everything came into focus.
See, I’ve felt the pain of losing a partner before. Losing Shannon though, was not the same feeling I had when I thought I was going to lose you to the lightning. I knew you were important to me, but I just didn’t understand in what way. Because the thing is, Buck, I thought I knew what being in love felt like and I was wrong. I thought I was in love with Shannon - and don’t get me wrong, I did love her - but what I felt for her was completely different than the way I feel about you. The way I love you is the biggest, loudest, and proudest love I’ve ever felt for someone.
Buck, I am so in love with you. I’m consumed by it, and this feeling has only been growing in the weeks since I realized it. It’s like I’ve finally let myself feel it, and now I can’t stop, and I never want to.
You, Evan Buckley, are the love of my life. You and Chris are my whole world, and I want you to know that you have been a part of this family for longer than you know. Chris is just as much your son as he is mine. I didn’t realize until I read you letters that you didn’t know that, and I’m sorry. I should have made it more clear. But Buck, that family that you have been desperately wanting, it’s already yours.
By the time you finish reading this letter, I will be sitting on the couch, waiting for you. You never have to buy another couch again if you don’t want to. This one is yours, just like this home is yours. It always has been, and it always will be.
So, come on in here. Let me reassure you of all that I wrote, because yes, I know you, Evan. You want me to confirm all of this in person, and I will. And please, let me hear you say you love me for the first time, because I desperately want to hear it.
With all my love, Eddie
Concussion protocol states that if you’re going to read, you should take breaks, and re-read the passages to make sure you understand them. Buck re-reads the letter three times, but still isn’t sure he’s understands everything perfectly.
Maybe its the concussion talking, or maybe he’s finally lost all his marbles because if he’s understanding Eddie’s words the way he thinks he should, it means that Eddie’s in love with him, that he loves Buck back. That he wants Buck, as more than a friend, that they are a family - him, Eddie, and Chris. That this letter confirms everything that he wants, and more.
He has a concussion. He’s been acting delusional. He can’t be understanding this right.
Like Eddie predicted in the letter, he needs confrimation.
It’s like his feet move on their own until he’s standing in the living room, on the other side of the coffee table from where Eddie is sitting on the sofa, the letter clutched in his fingers. Eddie looks up from his phone, to see Buck, a soft smile adorning his face. “Hey, Buck.”
Hey, Buck? He says so casually as if he didn’t just write Buck a life changing love letter. What the fuck?
Raising an eyebrow, Eddie nods to the paper Buck’s hands as says, “I take it you read my letter, and you have questions.”
“A few.”
“Go ahead.” Eddie says, leaning forward and balancing his elbows on his knees. He opens his palms in a gesture as if to indicate that he’s an open book. “Ask as many questions as you want.”
“You read my letters?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Today, when I went over to your place to pack your bag.” Eddie tells him. “I wasn’t snooping or anything. One of the envelopes was coming out of the drawer. I thought you might have needed something in there and when I opened it I saw them. I know that’s not an excuse to read them, but… I did.”
“So you know that I’m…”
“That you’re in love with me?” Eddie finishes for him, standing up, and slowly making his way to Buck. “Yes, although I think I wrote in my letter that I would really like to actually hear you say that to me. Whenever you’re ready, of course.”
“And you’re…”
“In love with you, too? Yes, Buck, I’m in love with you, too.”
“You’re sure about that?” Buck asks, voice wavering. “Because, Eddie, I need to know that you mean it. I have been waiting for this for so fucking long and I need to know you mean this, that this is real.”
“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” Eddie says, closing the distance between them to take gently take the letter from Buck’s hands, set it down on the table, and take Buck’s hands with his own.
Buck knows that Eddie can probably feel the nervous tremors flossing his body, because gently, Eddie runs his thumbs over the backs of Buck’s hands, in a soothing pattern. “In your last letter, the one you didn’t finish, you wrote that it felt like something had shifted. You didn’t believe it, or didn’t want to believe it, but you were right, Buck.”
Letting go of one of Buck’s hands, Eddie carefully reaches up and runs his fingers through Buck’s damp curls, lightly scratching at his scalp before running his thumb over Buck’s birthmark. Buck shivers at the touch, and finds himself pressing closer into Eddis’s touch. Between the tiredness and the headache, he feels himself fall forward a little, and Eddie quickly moves to catch him, slotting his free arm around Buck’s waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of Buck’s hoodie and onto his bare skin.
“The way I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of you, or stop myself from touching you…” Eddie punctuates his sentence by swiping his fingers across Buck’s back, the touch burning Buck’s skin in the best way, letting Eddie’s warmth spread throughout his body. As his fingers swirl in soothing circles, Buck feels tingles following the warm path from his back to toes, and to his fingers. He finds himself reaching up and clutching at Eddie’s forest green henley, digging his fingers into the cotton fabric and holding on for dear life.
“And all those times you thought I was jealous, I was. Any time someone flirted with you, touched you, hell even if they looked at you with desire in their eyes I saw nothing but green, Buck.” Eddie looks at him with half-lided eyes, scanning every detail of his face, and his teeth gently dig into his bottom lip. Buck desperately wants to lean forward and free it with his own teeth, his own breath hitches just thinking about it.
“You know the worst part of that for me though?” Eddie asks rehtorically. “I can’t even blame them for wanting you. I mean, look at you, Buck. You are absolutely gorgeous. Your beautiful blue eyes… a smile that lights up a room… a birthmark that I have dreamt of kissing… your arms… your chest… and god, don’t even get me started on your legs… Dios , Buck I have never wanted someone as much as I want you.”
“ Fuck .” Buck mutters lightly, drawing a light chuckle out of Eddie.
“With that said I don’t just want you for your body, Buck.” Once again Eddie takes Buck’s free hand in his, but this time he bring is up to rest on Eddie’s chest, right next to his other one, which is till buried in his henley. “I love how smart you are. I love that whenever there is something you don’t know, you make sure to find a way to learn everything about it as soon as possible, whether that’s for your own interest or someone elses. I love how much you care about others. You have the biggest, softest heart of anyone I’ve ever known, and you show it every day. You are so loving, and kind, and supportive of everyone… but especially of Chris.”
At the mention of Chris, Buck starts to feel his eyes getting wet. “You have loved my son since the first time I showed you his picture. You welcomed us both into your life, and never looked back. You have been my co-parent from that first first day you met him, and I cannot even begin to express how much Christopher loves you. You, me, and Christopher… we’re a family.”
Buck can’t help the tears that are freely falling down his face now, but luckily Eddie reaches up to cup his jaw, and let his thumb wipe them away. Buck leans into the touch once more, shifting more of his weight onto, Eddie. He only smiles, not seeming to mind one bit.
“Now, that you’ve read about how much I’m in love with you, and heard me talk about it, is that enough to convince you that I mean it? Do you believe me, Evan?”
“One more question.” Buck whispers, eyes flickering between Eddie’s deep brown eyes and his lips.
As if he can read Buck’s mind (Buck wouldn’t be surprised if he could at this point), Eddie shifts forward, bringing his forehead to rest against Buck’s, letting their noses brush together. “Go for it,” he whispers back, his warm breath ghosting across Buck’s lips.
Buck’s eyelids flutter as he moves even closer, his questing brushing against Eddie’s lips when he asks, “Will you kiss me?”
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to close the miniscule distance between them, tilting his chin up ever so slightly, sweeping Buck into a gentle kiss.
Buck’s imagined his first kiss with Eddie about a million times. A drunken moment at a bar after a dangerous combination of IPAs and shots of tequila; a stolen moment on the dance floor at Maddie and Chimney’s wedding (if the reception had actually taken place); a charged moment after a particularly close call; a dramatic confession in the rain after a devastating fight - that might be the result of watching too many rom coms, but it still makes the list); hell, he’s even considered an accidental kiss that resulted in a few too many giggles, but many, many follow up kisses.
But this one, the softness of this kiss, the feeling of relief spreading through Buck’s veins takes the cake. It’s not dramatic, or heated, or intense, but simple… effortless. It’s the feeling of finally coming home when you’ve been away for far too long. He loosens his grip on Eddie’s henley in order to snake his arms around Eddie’s neck, just as Eddie’s shift around his waist to pull Buck even closer.
Buck can feel a sense of giddiness rising in his chest, forcing his kiss to turn into a smile against Eddie’s lips. He shifts back and forth between kisses and smiles, earning the same response from Eddie.
“It’s hard to kiss you when you’re smiling so much.” Eddie jokes, playfully nipping at Buck’s bottom lip.
“I can’t help it… you love me.” It’s the first time he’s said it out loud where he really believes it, cause another swarm of giggly butterflies to flutter their way up inside his chest. “You really love me.”
Eddie tilts his head back just enough to catch Buck’s eyes, to show him he’s serious when he tells him, “I really, really do.” Eddie goes to learn back in, but Buck carefully stops him, letting his palm settle on Eddie’s cheek as he gets Eddie’s attention.
He realizes that Eddie has told him he loves him over and over again, but Buck hasn’t completed the one request that Eddie’s letter had for him. So, after a soft peck to the tip of Eddie’s nose, Buck pulls back and says, “I really, really, love you, too, Eds.”
This time it’s Eddie’s turn to smile, widely and brightly before diving back into to kiss Buck senseless.
Buck doesn’t know how long they stand there kissing. He just knows that at some point they break apart to ravage their Thai food that has been sitting on the counter growling colder with every warm press of their lips. Eventually, Christopher comes home, being dropped off by Jacob’s mom after their trip to the movies, where Christopher proceeds to horrifically spoil the movie they watched, but neither of them can help it because he’s just so excited when he talks.
They decide to save the conversation about their changing relationship with him until morning, even if it seems that Christopher seems to be smirking at them, about how Buck is practically curled up in Eddie’s lap the entire time he shares his story. After about an hour, Buck needs some more painkillers and rest, and he knows Eddie will likely be waking him up every couple of hours to ask him basic questions as part of the concussion protocol. However, Eddie promises that each time he does, he’ll make sure to ask, “Do you know that I am in love with you?” So, with that comforting thought on his mind, after bidding Christopher goodnight, Buck and Eddie tuck in Eddie’s bed and curl up under the covers.
Buck snuggles in close, resting his head on Eddie’s chest, while Eddie pulls Buck’s thigh up over his lap, pulling him even closer. One of Eddie’s hands finds Buck’s curls again, running his fingers through his hair, and letting his nails lightly pet his scalp, while the other reaches across his body, to rub circles on his thigh, hip, and lower back. As he lies there listening to Eddie’s steady heart rate, his headache starts to fade, and he feels his breath evening out as he slowly starts to fall asleep. He isn’t sure he’s ever been so relaxed, and that feeling only increases as Eddie turns his head and presses a soft kiss to his hairline.
“Hey, Eds?” Buck asks, nuzzling deeper into Eddie’s chest. Eddie hums back in response, his ministrations growing softer as he starts to fall asleep. “I’m glad you read my letters.”
“I’m glad you read mine.” The last word is a little slurred with sleep, but Buck doesn’t care. Eddie is in love with him. He has a written reminder to prove it (which he fully plans on framing), and in a few hours when Eddie wakes him up, he’ll have a verbal reminder, too.