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Eddie’s not totally sure why he’s still awake.

Christopher is away at summer camp, so most nights Eddie’s either been hanging out with Buck, at work, or just going to bed early while he can. He’s basically been doing anything to avoid sitting around his empty house feeling vaguely pathetic - but tonight, he hasn’t been able to sleep.

If he lets himself do the math, it’s probably the first night since Christopher left that Buck hasn’t come over to hang out, actually, but that’s just ridiculous. He can spend a night on his own. He’s a grown man. And Buck, though he may be single again, can have a life of his own and do whatever he wants. So can Eddie.

Of course, for Eddie that looks like eating ice cream on his couch, watching telenovelas, and for Buck that looks like going out to a bar with anybody from the 118 and dispatch who happened to be free. Eddie had been invited, but he’s still not really up to big group outings with a lot of drinking, even if he is doing better. Having Buck there would help, but - he’s doing fine here at home.

Really. Seriously. He’s fine. He’s still awake at 1 am, and checking his phone every ten minutes like clockwork, but he’s fine.

Buck is obviously busy having fun, and that’s great. Eddie’s having fun, too. He’s having a lot of fun. Just hours and hours of uninterrupted fun.

He’s still trying to convince himself when he hears it.

There’s - music, coming from outside his window.

Normally he’d write it off to his neighbors having a party, but there’s no heavy, thumping bass or dance melody. It actually sounds - tinny, and distant, like it’s coming from someone’s phone, but Eddie’s phone is still and silent on the couch. He stands up, and moves closer to the nearest window, and realizes it almost sounds like the music is coming from his own porch.

Frowning, Eddie debates on grabbing the baseball bat from his bedroom - but the idea makes him a little twitchy, so instead he just goes over to check the window by peeking through the blinds.

As it turns out, Buck is standing on the porch, holding his phone over his head. He’s obviously drunk, pink in the face, his overshirt tied around his waist. His eyes are closed for a second, but when he blinks them open, they look a little glassy.

Eddie blinks a few times, like that’s going to make what he’s seeing make sense, but nothing else suddenly appears to give him context. He does realize that he recognizes the song, though, and it’s - it’s Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes.”

Warmth floods his face. Eddie shakes his head firmly and steps out onto his own porch, with his arms crossed.

“I know you haven’t seen Say Anything,” Eddie says, hoping that leading with humor will make this even a little bit easier.

Buck turns to Eddie, though, seemingly just realizing he’s there, and grins like he hasn’t seen Eddie in a week. His whole face lights up, and he drops his arms back to his sides. “Eddie!” he calls out, just a little too loud.

Being around Buck under normal circumstances can be a little much, lately, for Eddie. Turns out getting in touch with his feelings means realizing how much his chest aches whenever Buck takes care of him after a hard therapy session, or when he sends pictures of himself and Christopher at the zoo. It means being hyper aware of how much he stares at Buck’s hands, and his forearms, and the way his body moves when he’s working on a call, and the way it makes Eddie feel warm and a little itchy under the collar. It also means just realizing - Buck makes him happy. The touch of his hand can relax almost every point of tension in Eddie’s body, and Eddie can just - have that.

On a normal day, at work or taking Christopher to a museum with Buck at his side, or having dinner with both of them, Eddie’s starting to make his peace with all of those feelings.

Tonight is not a normal day. Tonight, Eddie’s been tearing up on his couch for hours, eating ice cream and thinking about Buck, and now Buck is - here. He’s here and smiling and flushed and his t-shirt is tight around his arms like always, and he’s still got his stupid phone in his hand, blasting Peter Gabriel.

“Buck,” Eddie says again, reaching out a hand, gesturing to the phone. “The music?”

“Oh!” Buck says, like he’d forgotten. He looks down at the phone and then holds it out to Eddie. “Like the - I’m here for a reason!”

“Okay,” Eddie says slowly. He can’t hide his smile completely, but he tries. “And what’s the reason?”

Buck’s brow furrows, and then he looks down at his phone again, smiles, and nods to himself. “Right. Yeah. The - do you remember Norman?”

For a second, Eddie has no idea what Buck is talking about, but the song starts over again, and something clicks into place. “With the - the guy with the wife on the bridge? From three years ago?”

“Yeah,” Buck breathes out, taking three quick steps towards Eddie before he stops again. “I told Hen you’d remember. She didn’t believe me.”

The context makes everything click into place, and Eddie feels himself relax. “So you made a bet with Hen that I wouldn’t remember Norman?”

“Wha - huh? No!” Buck shakes his head vigorously, then obviously makes himself a little dizzy and stops, blinking at the window. “Whoa.”

Eddie sighs, fond in every inch of his body, and reaches over to gently take Buck’s hand. “Here, come on, let’s go inside.”

Buck frowns, and stands his ground when Eddie tugs on him a little. “No - wait, I was doing a thing.”

“You were doing a thing?” Eddie repeats, watching as Buck seems to get distracted again, and he smiles back at Eddie in that way that makes him look five years younger again, more like the Buck that Eddie first met, light and silly and - Eddie feels his heart do a silly little somersault in his chest.

“Yeah,” Buck says softly, tangling his fingers with Eddie’s. “Can I finish?”

“Please, don’t let me stop you.”

“‘Kay,” Buck agrees. He holds his phone up again, one-handed, but then he seems to catch sight of something, and he looks at Eddie, standing there in his pajamas, and he looks around at the deserted neighborhood, and his eyes go wide. “Wait, did I wake you up?”

Eddie laughs, taking another step towards Buck. “No, I was already awake.”

“Oh. Good.”

They stand there for a moment, Buck standing there smiling at Eddie, practically shining at him, and he doesn’t say anything else. Eddie bites back a grin, and tries not to laugh.

“Buck,” he says again, prompting.

“Oh! Right!” Buck shakes his head, just once this time, and holds up the phone. “When you weren’t there tonight, I was talking to Hen and she said - she said you told her about that night you came to the bar and then left again. Not - don’t get mad at her-”

Even though Eddie feels more than a little embarrassed, he shakes his head, and squeezes Buck’s hand. “I’m not mad.”

“Good,” Buck breathes out, and then he clears his throat, and keeps going. “But - she told me about it, and it just - it made me so sad, Eddie. Because I always notice, when you’re not there. And if I had just seen you - I’m always looking for you, when you’re there, and even when you’re not there, sometimes I forget, and I go to tell you something, and then - then you’re not there, and I wish you were. And I got better at remembering, while you were gone, but it never felt better, and tonight - I know you said you just wanted to get some more sleep, but then Hen told me that, and I got worried, and I just - I had to come here, and tell you. I always want to see you.”

He squeezes tightly at Buck’s hand, and twists up his face a little, trying not to cry. The Peter Gabriel song is still playing tinnily through Buck’s speaker, and Eddie feels silly and exposed and completely bone-deep in love, all at once. “Come inside,” he says again, tugging at Buck’s hand.

“Did I-” Buck frowns a little, and finally turns off the music on his phone, shoving it into his pocket once it’s gone quiet. “Did I make you sad?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, and twists his fingers around Buck’s instead of pulling him in for a hug. “No, Buck. I just want you to come in.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, Eddie leads their way through the dimly lit house. Buck stumbles out of his shoes in the doorway, and then they head through the dining room, into the kitchen. Eddie leaves the overhead light off as he gets Buck a glass of water, but turns on the light over the sink, just to make sure they can both see. He leans against the counter and Buck settles right beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

Buck tries to take a sip of his water, and spills just a little, and sets it back down while he wipes off his face, and Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“Eddie,” Buck says sadly, his eyes all big, and Eddie just grabs a dish towel and hands it to him, pressing his hand over Buck’s again.

“Here.”

Clearly giving up on the water, Buck wipes off his face and then just - buries his head against Eddie’s shoulder, hiding there. It’s not something that usually happens when they’re both fully awake, but Eddie holds himself steady, determined to let Buck’s head rest on his shoulder for as long as he wants.

“I’m really drunk,” Buck mumbles, a little bit miserable.

Eddie laughs, and places a hand on Buck’s back, just to keep him steady. “Yeah, seems like it, bud.”

“But that doesn’t-” Buck lifts his head up, suddenly, fixing his eyes on Eddie’s - and they’re close, now. Eddie can actually watch, up close, as Buck’s pupils dilate, just a little - probably just adjusting to the light. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t mean what I said. I meant it, okay?”

Nodding, Eddie rubs his hand up and down Buck’s back. “I figured.”

“Are you- do you want me to go?” Buck asks, starting to move away - but Eddie’s hand on his back keeps him in place, just for a moment.

“No,” Eddie says with a single shake of his head. “No, I want you to stay here. If you want.”

“I always want,” Buck says, and his voice cracks around the words in a way that sounds - well, it sounds like Eddie feels, but Eddie refuses to examine that right now.

“Then stay here.” He places his hand at the back of Buck’s neck, thumb sliding up the nape of his neck, into his hair, and Buck - shivers with it.

“On the couch?” He asks Eddie, his eyes falling shut, his voice just a slurred mumble.

“I think the bed would work better for both of us.”

Buck opens his eyes again, and pulls back enough to look at Eddie. He checks Eddie’s expression and then - his eyes catch somewhere around Eddie’s chin, and stay there. “Yeah, I’m - bed’s good.”

Eddie waits for a moment, expecting Buck’s eyes to meet his again, but he keeps just - staring, his eyes dark, just a bit of blue showing around his dilated pupils, now. “Buck, you good?”

“I kiss people when I’m drunk,” Buck says, suddenly.

Trying not to look as startled as he feels, Eddie lets his hand fall away from Buck’s neck and he just stands there, his heart beating in his throat. “Yeah? Is that - did that happen tonight?”

“You weren’t there,” Buck says, shaking his head, and then he stumbles forward, pressing his face back against Eddie’s shoulder. “I kissed Lucy, once, but - she was a good kisser, but it was bad. Bad idea. Taylor was mad, and - people make jokes, now. Used to happen a lot, the - kissing thing, but now I try not to.”

“Well I’ve never seen you do it,” Eddie says, placing his hands on Buck’s shoulders, trying to keep him mostly upright. He can feel Buck’s lips - the way they move against his collar, and he’s trying desperately to think of literally anything else. “So - you know, you don’t do it all the time.”

“Try not to get too drunk around you,” Buck mumbles. “The - kissing thing. Seemed bad.”

“I do think it’s better to do your kissing when you’re sober.”

“That’s smart,” Buck says, nodding. “You’re smart, Eddie.”

Eddie laughs, and starts shuffling towards the hallway. “Yeah, I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you’re giving me a hard time about Chris’ math homework.”

“Math is hard,” Buck mumbles, but he grabs onto Eddie’s shirt and starts stumbling along with Eddie, following him with his eyes still closed.

It’s impossible not to be a little overwhelmed by the way Buck trusts him, just for a moment. He’s drunk, sure, but he’s just clinging to Eddie’s t-shirt and nudging his head against his shoulder, walking totally blind and going wherever Eddie leads.

They make it into the bathroom, and Eddie nudges Buck over to sit on the toilet, on top of the closed seat.

“Alright. I’m gonna get you some pajamas. You can change in here, and brush your teeth, and I’ll see you out there in a second, okay? I’m gonna get you some water and some painkillers for the morning, so you’ll have ‘em on the table when you wake up.”

“Y’r so good to me,” Buck mumbles, his eyes opening just halfway so he can beam up at Eddie.

“I try to be,” Eddie says, a little too honestly, and he rushes out of the bathroom again, definitely not because he’s running away from the situation.

He grabs the clothes quickly from a drawer in his bedroom, and leaves them on the bathroom counter while Buck’s still blinking at him sleepily. Eddie closes the door as he leaves, then, and leaves Buck to get changed.

It takes him a couple of minutes, taking his time, to get the water and pills set up on one side of the bed. Once he’s got everything in place, he goes over to listen at the bathroom door.

“Buck? All good?” he calls out.

“I’m - sort of?” Buck answers, and Eddie tries not to laugh.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

He’s greeted, on the other side of the door, by the sight of Buck, half in and half out of his t-shirt, his arms trapped over his head in the tangle of fabric.

“I’m stuck,” he says, a little pathetically.

Eddie grins, helplessly, relieved that Buck can’t see him for the moment. “I see that, bud. C’mere, let me get it.”

He reaches out, and pulls Buck a little closer, and gently helps him out of his t-shirt. Buck smiles gratefully once it’s out of the way, and he’s flushed again, his hair a little messed up from wrestling around in the fabric, and he looks - adorable, honestly. Eddie huffs out through his nose, and picks up the shirt he gave Buck to sleep in.

“Here, let’s get this one on.”

Thankfully, Buck’s a little better at getting the clean shirt on, and then Eddie can finally guide him out of the bathroom and into the bed.

They both settle on their sides, curled in towards each other like parentheses, and Eddie can even feel Buck’s knees nudge up against his.

“I’m gonna make you breakfast in the morning,” Buck says, reaching out to poke Eddie in the chest. “So don’t - don’t make it, if you wake up before me.”

“You never sleep in when you drink this much,” Eddie tells him, reaching out to take his hand again, trying to hide his smile against the pillow. “You always wake up early and then complain about it so - I doubt I’ll wake up before you do.”

Buck pushes his fingers in between Eddie’s and closes his eyes with a smile. “I like it when you know things.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, laughing around the word.

“Makes me feel - good. Warm. Fuzzy, and stuff, when you notice things.”

“Well. I pay attention to you, too.”

Buck scoots a little closer, knocking his knees against Eddie’s. “I know. I like it. It’s good. We - find each other. I like being found.”

Eddie’s heart - goes a little mushy, at that. Warmth spreads from his chest, out to the tips of his fingers, and overwhelmed by the need to do something, anything, he pulls Buck’s hand close and presses a kiss against his knuckles. “I like finding you.” He kisses the back of his hand, and then hides his face against the pillow again, hiding from whatever he might see on Buck’s face. “Now go to sleep.”

“Okay, Eddie.”

He’s surprised by the easy agreement - but soon, Buck is snoring on the other side of the bed, and Eddie is left holding his hand, smiling into his pillow.

It’s oddly easy to fall asleep that way, soothed by the sounds of Buck’s presence in his bed, by the warmth of him, so close.

When Eddie wakes up in the morning, he’s warm, still, but the bed is empty. He squeezes his eyes shut against the sunlight, and rolls onto his stomach - but as his memories of the night before settle back into place, he pushes up onto his hands and looks for proof of Buck’s presence.

The sheets are still rucked up on that side of the bed - and the empty glass is there on the nightstand.

Eddie rubs at his face with one hand, and climbs out of bed, hoping to find Buck - somewhere.

Thankfully he only makes it out of the bedroom before he hears sounds coming from the kitchen - the beeping of his coffee maker, a drawer opening and closing.

He makes his way to the kitchen, trying to keep a normal pace even as his heartbeat picks up, pounding in his chest.

He pushes open the door, and Buck is there. He’s standing in front of the stove, still wearing Eddie’s pajamas, turning down the heat as he scrambles some eggs in a pan. He looks over, as he hears the door, and he smiles at Eddie. It’s a little dimmer than his smile from last night.

“Hey, um - apology breakfast isn’t quite ready yet.”

“Apology breakfast?” Eddie asks, moving closer to lean against the counter right beside the stove. “There a reason you’re apologizing?”

“Just for making an idiot out of myself,” Buck suggests, wrinkling his nose as he looks back down at the pan. “Thank you for taking care of me, I appreciate it, but - I’m sorry, for showing up on your doorstep in the middle of the night like that.”

“You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

That makes Buck smile, but he still shakes his head. “I know you say that, but I still don’t think that means you signed up for drunken stunts on your porch.”

“Maybe not specifically,” Eddie admits, crossing his arms and shrugging, “But - if they’re anything like last night’s, I don’t mind.”

Buck slowly stops pushing the eggs around the pan, then freezes with his hand still wrapped around the spatula. “What - what does that mean?”

Still not completely sure he’s on steady ground, Eddie speaks carefully. “It was nice, last night. I was up late, and kept telling myself not to text you and interrupt, but - then you were here, instead. And it - I mean, do you remember?”

Scoffing, Buck turns the stove off and then braces his hands against the counter. “Do I remember showing up and blasting that song on your porch until you came outside? Yeah, Eddie.”

“I meant more - do you remember what you said?”

Buck grimaces, ducking his head down. “I said a lot of things.”

“Listen, if you - if you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t have to,” Eddie says, dropping his hands by his sides. “If you regret anything-”

“I don’t know if regret’s the right word,” Buck tells him.

“So what is?”

“I guess I’m just… embarrassed,” Buck admits.

“You don’t have to be,” Eddie offers. He steps closer, places a hand on Buck’s back, but Buck edges away from it - so Eddie just drops his hand.

“I know you’re trying to help, Eddie, but-”

“But what?” Eddie asks, hovering beside Buck, trying to meet his eyes. “You think I’m just lying to make you feel better? Buck, I spent last night eating ice cream and watching telenovelas on my couch until you showed up. I checked my phone every two minutes, just to see if you’d texted me.”

Buck turns, just slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirks up. “I knew you didn’t just watch those with Chris.”

“That’s what you’re getting out of that?”

Shrugging, Buck crosses his arms and finally faces Eddie directly. “What do you want me to get?”

“We got off shift that morning, grabbed breakfast, and then went our separate ways, right - you were gone for less than 12 hours and I missed you. You said last night that you always notice when I’m not there, and I’m trying to tell you that you’re not the only one. I always want you here.”

“That’s - nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

Eddie scoffs, knocking his knee against Buck’s. “You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“I just think you’re saying always-”

“You also said last night,” Eddie interrupts, “That you kiss people when you’re drunk.”

Buck’s head snaps back up at that, and a flush spreads over his face. “I’m - I mean. I was just-”

“When I asked if you did it last night,” Eddie continues, stepping into Buck’s space. “You just said that I wasn’t there.”

He opens his mouth like he’s going to defend himself, but then instead, Buck just shakes his head and shrugs, pressing himself back against the counter.

“Buck. I’m not - gonna hold you to things you said when you were drunk. If you wanna tell me it was all one big misunderstanding and you just had a little too much tequila - I can let you off the hook. But you should know that the only reason I didn’t - say anything back last night was that you were drunk, and I didn’t know if you’d remember it. So if you did mean it…”

“You…” Buck trails off, and he glances down, reaching out to take Eddie’s hand, tangling their fingers together. “Did you kiss my hand? Before I fell asleep?”

“That’s-” Eddie gets a little flustered, too, but squeezes gently at Buck’s hand. “I might have done that, yeah.”

Buck smiles, then, and it’s finally the same smile from last night, bright and beautiful and breathtaking. The sunlight is coming in through the kitchen windows, catching in the gold in Buck’s still-messy hair, and in the blue in his eyes. Eddie can’t stop himself from reaching up to press his thumb right against the dimple in Buck’s cheek.

“I practically told you that you could kiss me when you were sober,” Eddie reminds him, ducking in close. “You gonna take me up on that?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, joy spilling into his voice - but he’s still smiling too hard, and he ends up laughing, pressed against Eddie’s jaw, nose nudged up against his cheek.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, but he’s laughing now, too, pushing his fingers up into Buck’s hair.

“Gimme like - two minutes, and I promise, I’m gonna kiss you - so hard-” But at this point, he’s practically dissolved into giggles, and he ducks his head to hide it against Eddie’s shoulder, just the way he had last night. “Eddie - shit.”

Eddie throws his head back and wraps his arms around Buck’s shoulders, holding him tight. “I can’t believe you pulled a Say Anything on me when you haven’t even seen Say Anything.”

“It was - I was drunk! And it seemed like a good idea, okay, it worked for Norman-”

“When his wife was standing on a highway sign, yeah. Plus, wasn’t that the first movie they saw on a date?”

“We could make it our first date movie,” Buck grumbles, still a little breathless.

Slowly, Eddie smiles and cards his fingers through Buck’s curls. “Dunno if we can call watching a movie on my couch a first date when we’ve done it at least a hundred times.”

Buck lifts his head up, smiling again. It’s a little softer now, his mouth quirked to one side. “You wanna date me, though?”

“We can start there,” Eddie promises - and at last, Buck leans forward to seal it with a kiss.

It’s only the softest brush of lips, at first. Buck shivers under Eddie’s hands, and Eddie rubs his palm against the small of Buck’s back, tugging him closer in the process. Buck parts his lips, either deliberately or in surprise, and Eddie takes the chance to kiss him a little more thoroughly, capturing Buck’s bottom lip between his own, fitting their mouths together.

Buck’s hands slide over Eddie’s ribs, and for a breath, the kiss stays tentative, testing. Eddie refuses to pull away, though, so Buck lingers, exhaling through his nose as he keeps his lips pressed against Eddie’s.

After another minute, things shift. Buck moves his hands up to cradle the back of Eddie’s head, and then he uses his grip to tilt Eddie’s head back, changing the angle of the kiss.

He licks inside Eddie’s mouth like he wants to taste him, hungry and right on the edge of desperate. He’s clutching at the back of Eddie’s neck, pressing their faces together tightly enough that Eddie can feel Buck’s eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. Eddie can feel the kind of single-minded focus that Buck gives to anything he really cares about, all in Buck’s thumbs pressed against his jaw and Buck’s teeth pressed against his bottom lip, and Buck’s body, turning to press him up against the counter.

Eddie goes willingly, stumbling along, tugging at the fabric of Buck’s shirt to keep his balance. He steps on top of Buck’s foot, but Buck just takes another step with Eddie’s foot resting on top of his, carrying some of Eddie’s weight, and - Eddie knew he could do that, but electricity goes fizzing down his spine anyways.

He pulls back, gasping, and Buck is still holding Eddie’s face in his hands, looking down at him like he’s every single star in the sky. Eddie can barely handle looking back at him.

“Buck,” he pants out, tilting his head back and letting his eyes fall shut.

“Eddie,” Buck says back - but he’s clearly not done. He leans in, nuzzling into Eddie’s neck, and Eddie can feel the scratch of Buck’s stubble, from where he didn’t shave last night or this morning. Buck kisses at his jaw, then trails his lips down Eddie’s throat, until Eddie is digging his fingers into Buck’s shoulders.

“Buck,” he says again, a little more firmly, and he tilts his head back down, bringing his own hands up to Buck’s jaw, forcing their eyes to meet.

Buck blinks at him, eyes wide and dark, and Eddie finally gets to appreciate for a moment the flush over his face - the way his lips are so, so red, just from their one very thorough kiss.

“We’ve got all week,” Eddie reminds him softly. He tangles his fingers in Buck’s hair, tugging for just a moment before he gentles his touch, just running his fingers through again.

“Yeah, sure,” Buck agrees, nodding, but his eyes are already falling back to Eddie’s mouth. “But now that I’m allowed to kiss you, do you really expect me to do anything else?”

Eddie smiles, and nudges his nose gently against Buck’s. “Buck. Breakfast?”

Buck blinks, and scoffs, leaning around Eddie to look back at the stove. “Eds, those eggs are - cold, and super gross now.”

“So we should heat them up, or make some more. Plus, I want my coffee.”

“I’m not better than coffee?” Buck asks, tilting forward just enough to press Eddie back into the counter. He looms over Eddie, just a little, and he brushes their lips together again, enough to make Eddie shiver.

“Of course you are,” Eddie murmurs. He sighs, and gives in, giving Buck another kiss. This one is damp, lingering again, as Eddie slowly catches Buck’s bottom lip, and then his top lip, in turn. “But I want to have coffee,” Eddie says, before punctuating his words with another slow kiss, “And then I want to go back to kissing you.”

“That’s just mean,” Buck tells him, but he’s got his eyes closed as he nuzzles over to Eddie’s temple, resting his forehead there with a sigh.

“We eat food, then I’m yours for the rest of the day, yeah?” Eddie grins, sliding a hand under Buck’s shirt to squeeze at his hip.

“Guess when you say it like that.” Buck sneaks another kiss, just a quick smudge of his lips against the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and then he leans around Eddie to grab the pan, still using his hips to pin Eddie to the counter.

“Are you making breakfast like this?” Eddie asks, letting his hands fall against Buck’s waist.

“Well I can try, right?” Buck asks with his brightest grin. Eddie laughs - but he tucks his face against Buck’s collarbone, and doesn’t try to get away.

“Alright, be my guest.”

So Eddie just leans against Buck’s chest, and lets Buck nudge him around the kitchen as he works. If he steps away for a moment, they’re still never quite out of reach of one another, and Eddie can hook a finger in the waistband of Buck’s shorts and tug him closer again. It’s a little like dancing - just sharing the space, moving around each other, nudging in close and moving away again.

Buck will finish breakfast, and Eddie will kiss him for it, and they’ll drink their coffee, and Eddie will find out how it tastes in Buck’s mouth, and then they’ll both be done, and Eddie will kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him.

And - maybe later they’ll make out on the couch instead of actually watching Say Anything. Like Eddie said, they’ve got time.