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“You know, you’ll get square eyes if you keep playing on that thing all night, and with no lights on, Edmundo Diaz , for shame.” Buck tuts playfully as he enters the dimness of the living room, glancing at the drawn curtains and pulled-down shutters of the windows.
Only the occasional bright flash from the fighting game on the TV illuminates Eddie’s profile, Chris’ blocky headset flattening his hair, where he sits on the floor reclined back against the softness of the couch.
The older man huffs out a laugh as he pauses the game, swiping at the headphones to let them fall around his neck.
Scattered around him lay scissors, various rolls of multi-coloured wrapping paper, and what appears to be a large tangled ball of badly stuck together tape. Squinting, Buck notices the shine of a few stray tape pieces dotting the front of Eddie’s forest-coloured henley, glinting like the tinsel covering the mantlepiece in the bright TV screen light.
A small mountain of neatly wrapped presents - corners folded to military precision - is stacked by the coffee table's end; yet still the two large bags Buck had dragged down from the loft that afternoon were not fully emptied of the gifts for Chris he and Eddie have been squirrelling away all year.
Wrapping: 1, Diaz: 0.
“I see the tape and paper won this round then.” Buck states, nodding at the victorious wrapping supplies.
“I’m just lolling them into a false sense of security.” Eddie replies, going to push the ball of tape with a socked foot, only to think better of it, standing up just enough to fall comfortably back onto the couch proper. “I’ll be back for a second pass once I actually win a match.”
“Still trying to beat the Dog?” Buck asks, shuffling closer to the couch.
“Chris always plays him, I need to get better and show my son who's boss.” There’s a hint of pride in his voice, Buck notes.
That his son is able to beat him at video games, able to teach him - or at least, able to sit and nag his dad over his terrible memory of the characters' many, many button combinations and their corresponding counters.
Buck has woken up at any number of odd hours now to the brightness of Eddie's phone screen illuminating his boyfriend’s face, scrolling the game’s wiki as if Buck himself were on an info-binge.
“And to think less than two years ago you hid away the TV remote and the console because an AI recommended you a better coffee maker.” Buck teases gently, grinning as Eddie predictably rolls his eyes - like father, like near-teenage son. “Speaking of which.”
The mug in Bucks hands is well-loved, a small chip on its rim, its colours now washed out from years of use, and from it wafts the familiar scent of warm Christmas spices, coffee, and steamed milk.
A deep appreciative sigh rumbles though Eddie as he drops the control into his lap, and takes the offered drink, a hint of canines glinting in the flickering menu screen light as he smiles at Buck before taking a long pull of the coffee.
Buck still loves the gentle fondness Eddie's eyes soften into when he gives him something; a kiss as he rises to consciousness each morning, a hug as he seeks comfort after a particularly gruelling shift, or in this moment, a perfectly made gingerbread latte with plenty of foam, just how Eddie likes it.
“Got to keep you awake and alert, you gamer.” Fondness colours every one of Buck’s words, and he watches Eddie's smile bloom, upturned corners of his mouth peaking past the rim of the mug.
The reply, when it comes, is heartfelt, and foam-moustached, as Eddie opens his eyes from where he had closed them in near-bliss.
“I love you” Eddie says to the inside of the coffee mug, the sound distorting as it escapes the caffeinated confines.
Buck waves a hand. “I know, I know.”
Cheekily, Eddie cocks a brow and tilts his head towards the kitchen. “I’m talking about Hildy.”
It’s Buck's own turn to roll his eyes at his boyfriend's response, the wise guy.
“Yeah, yeah, of course you are. I don’t see Hildy driving you to work or keeping you warm in bed.”
Eddie’s eyebrows tilt up, a thoughtful look on his face. “Who knows what the future brings Buck, who knows.”
Eddie goes for another mouthful, only to make the foam moustache even larger.
“You’ve got a little…” Buck gestures with a finger to his own lip, only to chuckle as Eddie misses the foam moustache completely. “Come here.”
A large hand comes to gently cradle Eddie's jaw, the pads of Buck’s fingers feeling the roughness of the day’s stubble.
From here, Buck can see the depth of Eddie’s eyes, the beauty mark high on his cheek, and the great white and brown foam mess that coats his upper lip.
Slowly, he leans in, ever watchful of Eddie as the other man's eyelids dip slightly, breath hitching slightly as they enter each other's orbit.
It warms Buck that he has this effect on the other man, seeing Eddie relax even further.
Got’cha
Like lightning, Buck pounces.
He leans in and lets his tongue swipe the spiced foam from Eddie's lip before pressing a gentle kiss against coffee-warmed lips, feeling the small shocked gasp Eddie gives against his own.
“I don’t see Hildy doing that now, do you?” Buck retorts, grinning as he pulls back enough to watch the pink creeping over Eddie's cheeks, the flush at the tips of his ears as he can’t help but laugh at his boyfriend's antics.
Settling down beside him, Buck opens one of the drawers under the coffee table, rummaging round before pulling out the spare controller.
“Because I love you too - ah ah no you said you loved Hildy, I can be the bigger man here. I will take pity and give you some pointers to try to beat Chris.”
Sitting up straighter, Eddie presses a few buttons on his controller, letting the game switch to 2 player mode, the room now bathed in the white light of the character selection screen.
“Oh so you think you can keep up with Chris? you’re better than me, huh Buckley?” Eddie says playfully, knocking a knee against Bucks, letting it stay there, a point of contact.
Buck just shoots him a side eye, bringing a finger up to the ear closest to Eddie.
“Tell me, just what move does Dog do if you double tap X then press O, with a tap to the right analog stick again?”
There’s a look of faux innocence in those baby blue eyes as Buck presses a button and feels the slight bzzz of the second controller as it rumbles to life in his hands.
Eddie feels his face scrunch up as he tries to wrack his brain for the answer.
Chris has most definitely told him before, in that slightly condescending teenage tone that Eddie knows hides his joy that his own dad is asking him for help.
Spinning bite? No, no, that's only one press of the X button then the O… maybe it was…
Beside him, Buck chuckles, gently rocking his shoulder into Eddie’s, before selecting his hero, a knight holding a sword and shield aloft.
“Winner makes the next round of coffee and wraps the remaining presents?” Buck suggests, eyes focused on the screen, settling into the cushions, ready to start.
They are always like this; pushing each other that little further, faster, higher - be it at work or at play.
And Buck knows they both love it.
Eddie just smiles, disconnects the headphones so they are now listening to the upbeat music of the game through the TV filling the living room.
“It’s on.”