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There’s about a palm’s width of distance between Eddie’s knee and Buck’s thigh, where they’re both sitting on Eddie’s couch. It would barely take any movement at all for Eddie to just nudge his leg over a little further, press their knees together and let his rest there.
It’s embarrassing, really, how much he’s fixating on it, staring at the empty space on the cushion. He knows it’s embarrassing. He and Buck have touched thousands of times, now, at least, in all the time they’ve known each other. Sitting pressed together hip to hip in the firetruck, sharing a bed during quarantine, just bumping shoulders or elbows when they walk. All those little incidental touches - they’ve always been easy.
Frankly, there have been times in Eddie’s life when touching Buck was actually literally easier than breathing. Right after coming out of a five alarm fire, or in the middle of a panic attack, or when it just felt like the weight of the world was pressing down directly on his sternum - if Buck was there, he was always right there, right beside Eddie. He would reach out, put a hand on Eddie’s back, or press their shoulders together, and it became instinct to lean in instead of away, to let Buck’s warmth ease the tension in his chest.
But all of that was Buck or instinct or some combination of both, and Eddie hadn’t been - thinking about it. Now, here on the couch, it’s late. He’s been holding and sipping from the beer in his hand for so long that it’s barely even cold - it’s damp under his palm, where he keeps readjusting his grip. Buck’s been sharing research rabbit holes and work stories at random, bouncing back and forth and chattering away, and Eddie’s mostly just enjoying leaning his head against the back of the couch and watching him talk.
Buck’s beer is getting warm on the coffee table, and he’s almost knocked it over more than once, gesturing with his hands as he talks. Every time he does, he catches it by the neck, laughs a little at himself, and shoots a glance at Eddie.
“You ever gonna move that?” Eddie asks finally, gesturing with his own bottle.
“That’d probably be the smart thing to do, huh?” Buck says, snorting as he nudges the beer over closer to Eddie.
There’s still that space between them on the couch - and it should be easy for Eddie to just close that last inch or two, but he’s in his head about it.
That’s the real issue here. Buck’s not here tonight because this is some holdover hangout after Christopher’s gone to bed. Eddie invited him, and Christopher is at a sleepover, and this whole thing is happening because Eddie’s got therapy homework to “let himself get better at wanting things.”
He hates therapy homework, with frankly a burning passion, but he started here, with this, because he thinks he’ll hate it less if he gets time with Buck out of it.
If this were anything else, he’d just tell Buck, and the worst part is, Buck would probably help. Eddie would say I’m trying to get more comfortable with wanting things, and Buck would give him a patient little smile, and if Eddie scooted a little closer, Buck would probably let him, and he might be confused but-
That’s just it, isn’t it? Eddie’s still not sure. It’s been a couple of months since Buck and Taylor broke up, and Buck is here - but he’s always here. Eddie’s afraid that the heavy way the words would trip off his tongue, the way he might accidentally emphasize the world want, the hungry shape it would take in his mouth - he’s terrified that if he says it out loud, it’ll be obvious. And whether he’s ready to find out or not, he’ll get Buck’s answer.
So now, instead, he’s sitting on his couch with Buck, and there’s about two inches of space between their knees, and Buck is talking with his hands again, and Eddie is trying to gather every ounce of courage he has just to shift a little bit closer and press his knee against Buck’s.
Finally, in a classic move from the high schooler’s handbook, Eddie pretends he’s stretching out his legs and just - settles in a little bit closer, so his leg is nudged up against Buck’s. Buck is warm through the denim of his jeans, so warm just at that one point of connection, and it pulls all of Eddie’s focus.
“Eds, hey, come on, if I’m boring you, you can just say so,” Buck says - and there’s a playful edge to it, a tilt to his mouth, but Eddie knows too well there’s real insecurity still lurking underneath.
Buck readjusts, and for a moment Eddie thinks he’s going to shift away, but instead he nudges a little closer, tucking his shoulder against Eddie’s, pressing their legs even closer.
As soon as Buck settles, Eddie reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not boring me, Buck, come on.” He squeezes, gently, just once, shaking to loosen Buck up a little. “How else am I gonna find out about cicada hibernation?”
“It’s not hibernation, and you would know that if you paid attention to the documentary-” Buck insists.
“Why would I do that when I’ve got you?” Eddie asks, teasing, moving his hand to the back of Buck’s neck.
Buck ducks his head and smiles in that familiar, bashful way he has. “Okay, I guess you’ve got a point.” Then, he seems to remember what he was saying and he turns in towards Eddie, actually nudging his leg - almost up on top of Eddie’s, moving in closer to make his point. “But still, I can’t believe you thought cicadas hibernated! They’re super active underground, they’re actually not sleeping or anything-”
Nodding, Eddie settles in to listen to whatever Buck wants to tell him next. Whatever fact or story the cicadas remind him of. He pulls his hand back and settles his arm on the back of the couch, behind Buck’s shoulders - but his leg, he keeps nudged underneath Buck’s.
As he keeps talking, Buck actually hooks his ankle over Eddie’s, until their legs are tangled, and Eddie is warm and comfortable as he slumps further on the couch and tucks himself closer against Buck’s side, pressing them together from shoulder to hip.
It takes a moment for Eddie to realize, but Buck goes quiet, and he turns towards Eddie, blinking. Eddie tenses up for a moment, realizing he’s accidentally, basically, tricked Buck into cuddling with him, but Buck just smiles and laughs, shaking his head.
“I totally just forgot what I was gonna say,” Buck admits, and Eddie laughs with him.
In fact - Buck laughs hard enough his head tips onto Eddie’s shoulder, and he rolls his forehead back and forth there for a second, his curls brushing against Eddie’s jaw, the warm weight of him just - resting against Eddie’s collarbone.
“Maybe it’ll come back to you,” Eddie tells him quietly.
“Eh, who knows? Probably wasn’t important.” Buck turns so he’s looking out at the room again, but he leaves his head resting against Eddie, tucked there perfectly in the space between neck and shoulder.
Slowly, Eddie relaxes again, and tilts his head so it’s resting on top of Buck’s. He can smell Buck’s shampoo, the familiar, vaguely tropical scent of it. “It is getting pretty late.”
“Mm, is it?” Buck asks, kicking his heel back against Eddie’s ankle. “I actually have no idea what time it is.”
“I’m not getting my phone right now,” Eddie grumbles - which is the closest either of them have come to acknowledging the position they’re in, but Buck just laughs.
“Let me see,” Buck says - and he lifts his head, stretching out his neck, but Eddie just - lets his head fall onto Buck’s shoulder instead, which is probably a lot more comfortable for both of them, considering the height difference. Plus, Buck’s hoodie is soft and warm beneath Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie can close his eyes and turn his face into the fabric. Buck’s hoodie still smells like Eddie's laundry detergent, from the last time he washed it here.
“I think we gave up on the movie around 10,” Eddie mumbles, so comfortable it almost feels like it should be illegal, somehow - but then, maybe that’s the point of all this. He’s allowed to be comfortable. He’s allowed to have what he wants, at least like this.
“Yeah, and apparently I’ve been sitting here talking your ear off for over two hours,” Buck says, holding his phone up so Eddie can see it.
The light is bright, though, close to his face and in the darkness of the room, and Eddie puts his hand over Buck’s phone, and over Buck’s hand in the process, pushing them both back down into Buck’s lap. “Okay, so it’s after midnight. We don’t have anywhere to be.”
“Well, we have to pick Christopher up in the morning.”
Eddie gets the same thrill he always does out of Buck including himself in their plans, settling comfortably into their shared life - and talking about Christopher like he’s their kid, not just Eddie’s. “Kids at sleepovers don’t wake up in the morning unless somebody makes them. He’s with Ian tonight, and you know-”
“The kid with the astronomy dad? God he’s probably still up.”
“Exactly,” Eddie says, pulling his hand off Buck’s phone to pat the center of Buck’s chest instead. “We don’t have to go get him until noon. Told him he’s allowed to stay up late for the fancy telescope. It’s practically a special occasion.”
“I bet he’s having a great time,” Buck says, settling back in against Eddie, sounding so happy that it’s a little contagious. Eddie smiles, and presses it against Buck’s arm.
“He can tell us all about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll even have pictures.”
“That’ll be nice.”
Eddie breathes in deep, and he can feel Buck’s elbow tucked against his ribs. Buck’s leg is still pressed in between his, Buck’s shoulder underneath his cheek, Buck’s chest moving under his palm - because apparently Eddie forgot to move his hand away.
He goes to pull it back, and Buck catches his wrist, just gently wrapping his fingers around it.
It feels a little tentative, and Eddie realizes that Buck is giving him the chance to pull away if he wants to - but Eddie can’t think of anything he wants less. He presses his hand back against Buck’s sternum, and feels his heart beat underneath his palm.
Buck sighs, and turns his head to press his face into Eddie’s hair.
“You want me to make breakfast in the morning?” Buck asks, after a long moment of quiet.
“You don’t have to,” Eddie tells him, turning his hand to knock his knuckles gently against Buck’s breastbone. “Whichever one of us wakes up first can just get the coffee started and we’ll go from there.”
“Like you ever wake up before I do,” Buck teases, nudging his head against Eddie’s.
“Well I have better curtains in my bedroom and you’re the kind of morning person I thought was made up for commercials, so between the two-”
Buck leans more of his weight against Eddie, almost toppling them both over on the couch, and groans. “Mph, Eddie, I don’t wanna get up and get blankets-”
Eddie steadies both of them with a laugh, pressing his free hand over Buck’s ribs - and then he really registers what Buck is complaining about, and his heart does a funny little patter in his chest. “Well we’re not just gonna sleep on the couch like this,” he says, surprised that the words don’t stick in his throat.
He can feel it as Buck tenses a little under his hands. “We’re not?”
Rubbing his hand up and down over Buck’s side, Eddie thinks vaguely about pushing the hand up under Buck’s hoodie - but that still feels like a step too far for - whatever this is. “You should just sleep in my bed. It’s late, like you said, and I don’t wanna make the couch up, either.”
“So neither of us would be on the couch.”
Reluctantly, Eddie pulls his head back, lifting it off Buck’s shoulder, and finds Buck looking at the television instead of his face. “I mean it wouldn’t be the first time. But it’s up to you. I was just saying-”
Buck shakes his head and turns towards Eddie, so quickly they almost knock into each other. They’re still ducked in close, when Buck stops, and they both blink. “Uh. No, yeah. We can do that. I’m down.” Buck smiles, and it lights up his whole face. “Beats sleeping out here.”
“I knew you hated it,” Eddie says, narrowing his eyes, wrapping his leg further around Buck’s. He clenches his hand into a fist in the fabric of Buck’s hoodie and tugs. “You never complain.”
“Well technically I could just go back to the loft if it really bothered me-”
Eddie levels him with an unimpressed stare.
“Okay fine, your couch kind of sucks to sleep on. Happy?”
“I fucking knew it,” Eddie grumbles, ducking his head down to press it back against Buck’s shoulder. He has an urge to - bite. Tug on Buck’s earlobe with his teeth, to playfully punctuate the sentence, but he buries it. There’s reasonable wants, and there’s things he definitely still can’t have. “We could buy a new couch, you know.”
“I don’t really think that’s the answer, Eds.”
“Of course not, because there’s plenty of room for both of us in my bed, I’m just saying, we could have bought a new couch. You don’t have to suffer in silence.”
Buck lets out a strangled little laugh, and Eddie can feel the muscle of his shoulder move with it. “I mean, I am pretty good at that.”
“Stop being good at it,” Eddie says, firmer than he intended.
“I’m working on it,” Buck answers, soft and genuine.
God, Eddie wants to kiss him. He closes his eyes instead, presses his forehead hard against Buck’s collarbone and just stays there. “Let’s go to bed. No more sleeping on the couch. Okay?”
“‘Kay.”
Eddie doesn’t move, though, and neither does Buck. He doesn’t want to move, and they’re so tangled up that even if Eddie did want to pull away, he’s not sure where to start. He moves his arm up from where it’s behind Buck’s back, so it’s around his shoulders instead. Then he pats Buck once on the chest, but Buck just puts his hand back over Eddie’s, and they sit there for another handful of breaths.
Then, Buck laughs, and his leg shifts on top of Eddie’s. “Wait my - leg’s falling asleep, Eds, sorry.”
Snorting, Eddie lifts up his head and shifts so Buck can pull his leg back and stretch it out. “It’s fine.”
To be honest, Eddie’s was starting to lose a little circulation - but he barely noticed. He’s still warm from shared proximity and he feels comfortable in a way he’s not at all used to. Not just physically - he feels like something has loosened in his chest, like muscles have relaxed that he didn’t even know were tense. Like he’s let go of something he never had to keep holding on to.
“Alright,” Eddie says finally, standing up and shaking out his leg. “Come on.” He reaches down, offering Buck his hand - and he knows that Buck can stand up on his own, but Eddie doesn’t think he should have to.
Buck takes his hand, and they stumble together towards the bathroom to brush their teeth. Their elbows knock because they can barely fit at the sink together, so Buck just keeps standing behind Eddie, leaning over his shoulder, his chest pressed against Eddie’s back. Eddie has to force himself not to shiver.
Once they’re both done, Buck mugs a little, grinning wide at the mirror, and Eddie almost snorts toothpaste laughing at him. Buck laughs at him and trails a hand gently across the lower part of Eddie’s back as he heads for the door.
“I’ll get out of your way before I make you choke on toothpaste. I’ll see you in there.”
For a second, Buck leans against the doorframe, resting his cheek against it, smiling at Eddie, happy and totally at ease, and then he ducks away, heading down the hall.
Eddie finally spits out what’s left of his toothpaste and looks at himself in the mirror.
He looks - comfortable. He feels comfortable. Obviously, he’s still got work to do, but he’s pretty sure in some ways the work never stops. He’s never been as happy as he is right now. He’s never felt so settled in a life he enjoyed. A life he’s starting to tell himself it’s possible to keep. He nods at himself in the mirror and walks down the hall to the bedroom.
Buck’s not in the bed - Eddie imagines, just for a moment, how it would have looked to see Buck settled in the bed and waiting for him, maybe propped up on an elbow - but he pulls himself out of it quickly as he fixes his eyes on Buck standing right in front of him. He’s checking over the wall, where they’d patched it not so long ago.
“You can’t even really tell anymore, where the holes were.”
“You did a good job,” Eddie tells him, nudging their shoulders together.
“I just helped,” Buck says with a shrug.
“You helped a lot,” Eddie insists, reaching over to place a hand on Buck’s back.
They stand there for a moment, and Buck turns, looking oddly uncertain.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the couch?” he asks.
Eddie tilts his head, frowning. “You think I changed my mind while I was brushing my teeth?” His nerves catch up to him, though, and he drops his hand off of Buck’s back, bringing it back to his side. “Not to say that you can’t, but - I did think we just went over that you hate sleeping on my couch.”
Buck winces. “I mean I’ve had worse?”
“Hey, come on,” Eddie insists, stepping closer to Buck, but still not touching him. “What’s this about? You don’t have to sleep in here if you don’t want to, I just thought-” But that’s where Eddie’s courage runs out. The words stick in his throat because - he’s not sure what he thought. He just knew that Buck was letting him touch, and that he was comfortable, and that he didn’t want to get up and sleep in separate rooms, especially not if Buck didn’t want to, either.
“I just want to make sure you’re not…” Buck trails off, watching Eddie’s expression closely, but when he just keeps looking back, nervous and confused, Buck presses on. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t just - do all of this for me. I’m okay on the couch, and I’m - for all you do, you know, you’re not the world’s touchiest guy. I know you are with Christopher, but I know it’s different, and-”
“Buck,” Eddie says, stopping him before he gets any further. Buck bites his lip, and Eddie reaches over to wrap his fingers around Buck’s wrist. “Listen, it’s not - it’s not just for you. I get what you’re saying, because I know I’m not always the one to initiate - stuff like that but.” Eddie huffs out a breath, looking down at his feet, trying to focus on the steady beat of Buck’s pulse under his fingers. “It’s not because I don’t want to.”
“Oh,” Buck says softly. He steps a little closer, placing a big, warm hand on Eddie’s hip, and Eddie sighs, leaning into the touch.
“I had therapy homework,” Eddie says first.
Buck laughs, and tips forward enough to press his forehead against Eddie’s. “You had therapy homework to - cuddle with me?”
It makes him feel like a kid again - but there’s a flutter in Eddie’s stomach, just hearing Buck call it cuddling out loud. He laughs, and shakes his head, the motion of his own forehead making Buck move with him. “Not exactly.”
“No, I can totally picture it,” Buck tells him with a grin - Eddie can see it in the squint of his eyes and the scrunch of his nose. “Frank got to the end of the session, and he said, ‘Eddie I feel like you have problems that can only be solved by cuddling with someone other than your son, maybe Buck is a good choice.’” Buck deepens his voice to do a terrible impression of Frank, and it makes Eddie laugh.
“He doesn’t even sound like that.”
“Nah, I’m mostly doing an impression of your impression of him, whenever you come home from therapy in a bad mood.”
Eddie scoffs, and shifts so he can press his face back against Buck’s shoulder. He wraps his arms around Buck’s waist, and Buck puts his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, so they’re hugging.
Normally, Eddie would squeeze Buck once and move away again, maybe pat him on the shoulder a few times - but just like on the couch, he decides to let Buck be the one to pull away, and Buck isn’t backing off.
Instead, they stand there in each other’s arms, wrapped up like they’re slow dancing. Eddie can feel Buck breathing against him - feel the way his chest expands, the way his ribs move beneath Eddie’s fingers. He doesn’t even realize there’s still space between them to close until Buck moves his hands, rubbing them over Eddie’s back. Eddie relaxes, tipping forward into Buck, and their bodies end up pressed together from shoulder to knee again.
Buck lets out a little huff of air, and Eddie would worry that he’s gone too far - but Buck just holds him even tighter, one hand at the back of Eddie’s neck, one hand pressed against the small of his back, keeping him close.
“I can’t believe-” Buck says softly - so softly Eddie’s not sure he even meant to say it, but Eddie knows the feeling.
He’s so completely surrounded by Buck. Buck’s chin tucked over his shoulder, Buck’s arms wrapped around him, Buck’s warmth on every side, Buck’s breath in his ear. Eddie’s never been held like this. He can hardly remember being touched with this kind of tenderness, ever, but definitely not on this kind of scale, for no reason except the other person wants to. Intimacy with Shannon was always tangled up with sex, and Eddie could hardly relax enough around Ana to let her touch him, and now - now he’s here, soaking up every moment of Buck’s hands on his body while he’s still getting away with it.
Clearly, Buck needed this, too, so even if Eddie has his own selfish reasons - maybe it wasn’t the worst idea he’s ever had.
“Eddie,” Buck says softly - and he lifts his head up off Eddie’s shoulder, but he punctuates it by pushing a hand up into Eddie’s hair, ruffling it gently.
“Mm, yeah?” Eddie replies, sounding almost drunk, just on Buck’s touch.
Buck laughs, on an exhale, and presses his hand a little more firmly against Eddie’s back. “What was your therapy homework? You didn’t finish.”
“Right,” Eddie agrees, a little reluctant. It’s hard to find his worry, though, through the haze of warmth and comfort and safety he feels tucked against Buck’s chest. “Well - it was a little more general, obviously.” He feels like he should lift his head up off Buck’s shoulder, try to make eye contact - but Buck’s fingers are still moving slowly through his hair, and it’s so much easier to hide his face there at Buck’s collarbone while he muddles his way through the difficult part. “Frank thought now we’ve reached the point where I can say I’m getting better for myself - maybe I should find some more things… for me.”
Eddie knows he’s still not getting his point across, and when Buck’s only answer is a quiet little hum, he presses on.
“He said I should let myself want things.” He rushes through saying it a little, hyper-conscious of not letting himself linger on the word ‘want’ to draw it out.
“Oh,” Buck says. “So you-”
“Well, I wanted-” The word sticks in his throat this time, so Eddie clears his throat, and takes a different approach, trying not to read too much in the way he can feel Buck’s heart speeding up. “Well. Obviously, I like spending time with you. And - you’re right, I spent a lot of my life - not being very affectionate with people. Physically. My dad taught me boys didn’t do that - I had sisters, but - after a certain point it was supposed to get gross, you know. I wasn't supposed to want it.”
“Yeah,” Buck says, squeezing his arm tight around Eddie’s waist for a second.
“Right. So. It’s - easy, with you. I wasn’t sure it’d be this easy, but - it seemed like a good place to start. With this. Something I knew I wanted and I thought - maybe I could have.”
“Eddie,” Buck says, all breathless and punched out, and he presses his cheek against Eddie’s temple, nose nudging into Eddie’s hair, and Buck’s lips - land somewhere around Eddie’s cheekbone, because Eddie can feel them move as he speaks. “Of course you can have it.”
“Thank you,” Eddie tells him genuinely.
Buck tries to shake his head, and that’s enough to finally make Eddie lift his own head off Buck’s shoulder. He places his hand on the nape of Buck’s neck and ducks his head to make eye contact, forcing Buck to look at him.
“Hey. I mean it,” Eddie says. “I’m so grateful, for everything you do for me, Buck - and Christopher but - for me. It’s easy because you make it easy, but - I also have a history of making it difficult. You don’t have to shrug it off like anybody would do it. Nobody else has.”
Buck blinks a few times. “Well they should have,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, and Eddie smiles, just a little.
“It’s fine, Buck. I’d rather be here.”
“Me, too,” Buck agrees quickly.
Eddie squeezes gently at the back of Buck’s neck, then trails his hand down to Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting against the dip of his collarbone. “I’m glad.”
“Do you-” Buck starts, and his eyes fall away from Eddie’s but - Eddie could swear that Buck is looking at his mouth. “Do you want anything else?”
“Buck,” Eddie says, because every other word flies out of his brain as his heart picks up double-time.
“I mean if you don’t-” Buck stammers, lifting his eyes back to meet Eddie’s. “That’s fine, too - more than fine, we can - go to bed and I won’t-” Eddie lifts his hand and presses his fingers over Buck’s mouth, stopping him mid-sentence. Buck makes a confused little noise, but doesn’t pull back, or try to keep talking.
“Buck,” Eddie says again, this time letting every bit of warmth and fondness he feels leak into it. He shifts his hand so it’s not covering Buck’s mouth - but lets his thumb trace along the shape of Buck’s bottom lip as he pulls away. He watches as Buck’s mouth falls open, and he shivers with the motion. “I want,” Eddie finishes - and he doesn’t specify, but he knows he doesn’t need to.
Instead, he tips forward and catches Buck’s mouth with his own. For a moment, the kiss stays like that - another place they can touch, just dry mouths pressed against each other. Buck’s lips are soft, and warm, and a little bit chapped, and Eddie’s nose is pressed against Buck’s cheek, their foreheads pressed together, and every little point of connection combined leaves him breathless.
Then, Buck’s hands come up to cradle Eddie’s head, pressing at the back of his neck, sliding up into his hair, and Buck is kissing him back, gasping into it, opening his mouth at the first touch of Eddie’s tongue. Buck still tastes like toothpaste, and his lips catch and press against Eddie’s in a way that makes both of them shudder.
“Eddie,” Buck says, breathless between kisses.
“Yeah?” Eddie answers - but he doesn’t stop, kissing Buck and pulling away, but pressing right back in when Buck doesn’t whisper anything else into the space between their mouths.
“Wait, I can’t-” He moves his hands to rest heavy on Eddie’s shoulders, using just enough pressure to keep Eddie back for a minute - and that shouldn’t make heat rush down Eddie’s spine, but it definitely does. “I can’t think when you’re doing that,” Buck admits, his voice breaking on it just a little, and he laughs, afterwards, so lit up with it that Eddie couldn’t look away if he wanted to.
“And why do you need to think?” Eddie asks him, finally slipping one of his hands up under Buck’s hoodie, moving over the contours of Buck’s muscles, the warmth of his skin.
“I was gonna say something, and I forgot,” Buck complains - and his eyes flutter shut, but his brow is still furrowed, playfully frustrated.
Eddie chuckles, so filled up with fondness he feels like it’s bursting from his fingertips everywhere they press into Buck’s skin. “So tell me in the morning.” He tips forward to kiss Buck again, and this time Buck lets him, welcoming him with gently parted lips. “Let’s go to bed.”
Buck laughs into Eddie’s mouth and then pulls back, shaking his head. “I wish I wasn’t so sleepy.” If his point wasn’t clear, he tucks his palm against the small of Eddie’s back, fingers edging just under the waistband of Eddie’s sweatpants.
Warmth curls in Eddie’s stomach - but Buck’s right. It’s late, and they’re both tired, and as much as Eddie really does feel ready to jump into this headfirst - it probably wouldn’t hurt to save something for later.
“We’ve got time,” Eddie promises, nudging his nose gently against Buck’s temple.
“Yeah.”
They don’t separate to stumble their way over to the bed. Buck keeps a hand on Eddie’s hip, and Eddie keeps kissing him, just little presses of their lips, or pressing his lips to Buck’s jaw, or his neck, or the space just below his ear. They throw back the covers together, and then crawl into bed, ending up with Eddie sprawled half across Buck’s chest, one of his legs hooked over Buck’s.
“You good?” Eddie asks.
Buck rubs both his hands up and down Eddie’s back, soothing pressure. “Never been better.”
Smiling, Eddie presses it against Buck’s skin, just at the base of his throat, above the collar of his hoodie. “Me, too.”
They both settle into the bed and the silence. Eddie feels like he’s sinking into every space that Buck’s body leaves open - making one complete shape of the two of them, together.
Just as the warmth lulls him into something close to sleep, the rhythm of Buck’s hands against his skin fading into background noise, Buck whispers, “I’m gonna have to send Frank a fruit basket or something.”
So in between laughter - they both fall asleep.