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(Buck POV)
Honestly, Christmas has never been Buck's favorite holiday. When he was a kid, the appeal was mostly Maddie's happiness, her joy at the season. Then she left, and it was just... completely empty. Disappointing, because despite himself, he couldn't stop himself from hoping this was the year he'd have people who loved him to spend it with, instead of parents who left cash and a Hershey's bar under the tree and barely looked at him. Some years, his mom didn't come out of her room at all.
To top it all off, at some point between a December in Florida and a December in Illinois, he develops an allergy to Christmas trees. Which aren't a single type of tree, sure, but his body rebels against all of them. Fir, spruce, pine- doesn't matter. He starts dreading December with a passion anew, congested all the time and sneezing enough to make most people think twice about taking him home for the night.
Then, he joins the 118. The first year, he's new, but he's starting to hope (somewhat against his will) that he'll still be around these people when next Christmas comes around. At the very least, his current roommates aren't the type to have more than a miniature tree, and the station is miraculously free of any real-plant decorations. Apparently a couple people on C-shift also have allergies, and though he overhears a few complaints about it, he's personally grateful. They're still in and out of people's homes all the time, but he takes allergy meds on shift days and keeps to his room when he's home (something he's been doing more and more, anyway). It's not perfect, but it's a lot less miserable than he's gotten used to December being.
But now, the 118 is starting to feel like family, the firehouse like a home. Maddie's back in LA, he's getting closer with Eddie and Christopher, and when the season rolls around, he has hope.
Enough hope that he goes out with Chimney to buy a full-size, real tree for Maddie, even if it does mean he'll be battling full-force allergies in his (borrowed) living space all through December again. It feels worth it, for a change.
Then, Maddie freaks out when the Christmas stuff shows up, and as much as Buck can feel his heart breaking (for Maddie and for himself), there's a part of him that's relieved. Guiltily relieved, but relieved all the same. At least if they're going to struggle emotionally, he's not going to be struggling physically, too.
*****
A few days later, he trails behind Eddie as they step into Eddie's house, both of them tired after a long shift. A few steps in, Buck stills, eyes fixed on the tree newly adorning the corner of the room. The room where Buck was about to go to sleep in.
His nose itches just looking at it. Or maybe that's the scent of pine that has thoroughly permeated the room by now.
"You got a tree," Buck says.
"Yep," Eddie confirms.
Whatever; he's not moving any further. He'll probably regret it later, but he's too tired to care, or do anything but collapse onto the couch that's calling his name.
Eddie chuckles- though it's not like he's doing any better on the tiredness front- and walks off to fall asleep himself, throwing a "Sleep well," over his shoulder.
Buck's asleep before he can hear it.
*****
Oh god.
Buck's body still feels like lead- perhaps more so- but his throat is sandpaper and he's so congested he can feel it in his bones. His sinuses are burning, burning, burning, the heh'chhoo! that escapes him before he can try to stop it doing nothing to relieve it.
He forces his eyes open to see Eddie's living room ceiling above him, and shit, he needs to get out of here. One hand rubbing his enraged nose, he stumbles to his feet, desperately hoping Eddie's still asleep and not witnessing this. It quickly becomes clear that rubbing his nose isn't doing much, and he gives up on it, instead just trying to get out of there as soon as possible. He sneezes- staccato, cut-off things from his attempts to suppress them- as he rounds the coffee table, as he grabs his keys, as he haphazardly shoves his feet into his shoes without bothering to tie them. At least he doesn't see Eddie, whatever little that means when his vision is blurred with allergic tears and his eyes are averaging half-open at best.
Once he's outside, door shut behind him (a little louder than he would have preferred, but an hh'ktCHHH! caught him at just the wrong time), he gives up on even the modicum of control he was managing and lets out a hUH'CHHOO! eh'SCHOO! before he even starts down the path to the driveway.
He barely gets a chance to breathe between sneezes as he makes his way to his jeep, a little unsteady on his feet but not stopping. If he did, he'd be stuck here for half an hour.
After fumbling with his keys for long enough to sneeze on them thrice, he gets the passenger door unlocked. Desperate, he yanks it open harder than he probably should before rooting through the glove compartment, looking for the bottle of loratadine he keeps in there.
When he finally finds it, it has the gall to be empty. Frustrated, he hurls it at the dash, which it promptly bounces off of and lands on the driveway, starting to roll.
He chases after it, still sneezing, and hopes none of Eddie's neighbors- or worse, Eddie- are watching because he's sure he looks ridiculous. Still, he's not going to litter even if the plastic bottle deserves far worse than being run over half a dozen times.
Okay, he's being ridiculous, but given how much the universe seems to want him to suffer, he thinks he's entitled to a little ridiculousness.
He doesn't catch up with the bottle until he's at the bottom of the driveway. Once he's scooped it up, he notices the neighbor's bins are out, and he slams the bottle in with a sense of vindication. A short-lasting one, since he's still in the midst of an allergy attack and beefing with a plastic bottle. Not to mention losing to said plastic bottle.
Sighing, he trudges back up the driveway, not bothering to hurry. It's gonna be a little before he's good to drive anyway.
*****
Eventually, he makes it the few miles to the pharmacy and grabs a new bottle of meds, a bottle of water, and a fresh travel pack of tissues. There's a trashcan on the sidewalk just outside, so he stops and disposes of the medication packaging, swallows a pill, then shoves the bottle in his pocket so he can pull a few tissues out.
He's suffered too much in the past hour to care about how loudly he blows his nose on the sidewalk outside CVS right now, so he just keeps going until his sinuses are as clear as they're going to get right now. As he tucks the remaining tissues in his pocket, it occurs to him he probably should've bought more than one pack, but he's not going back in now.
Once he's back in his car and has downed half the bottle of water, he starts the engine and drives to pick up coffee for the both of them. He chooses the place half because Eddie loves their raspberry mochas and half because it has a drive-through. A drive-through with a convenient trash bin he can dump the tissues piled up on his passenger seat in.
When he finally parks back in Eddie's driveway, time and Claritin combined mean his symptoms have mostly dissipated; he hasn't sneezed since he left the coffee shop and his face isn't noticeably puffy any more. There's barely even any residual sniffling, though he can still see a little redness in his eyes and around his nostrils when he looks in the mirror. In any case, it's as good as he's going to get; he just hopes it holds once he's back inside.
He hears movement in the kitchen as soon as he's inside so heads straight there, glad to pass by the tree without lingering. Eddie smiles when Buck steps through the doorway, soft and sleep-rumpled in a way that takes his breath away. His smile widens when he notices the coffee in Buck's hands, and he makes grabby hands that Buck shouldn't find as adorable as he does.
Rolling his eyes even as he bites back a smile, he steps up to join Eddie where he's leaning against the counter and hands over his coffee easily. Eddie moans as he takes the first sip.
"I was wondering why you abandoned me with no car."
"You were asleep," Buck points out. "And it's not my fault you couldn't be bothered to drive yourself home yesterday."
"You offered me a ride."
"Because we left B-shift enough mess without adding another crash to their workload."
Eddie rolls his eyes, then sips at his coffee again, eyes closing in bliss. "I forgive you for stranding me."
Buck snorts. "You'd forgive anything for that disgusting concoction. Besides, you could call an uber."
"That's not how you pronounce delicious, bud."
Buck pushes off the counter, ignoring Eddie in favor of browsing the fridge. It's pretty well-stocked, but he's too tired for anything complicated, so he settles on fried eggs and toast anyway.
They settle into a comfortable quiet while Buck cooks, filled only with the sizzling of the pan and the occasional sniffle Buck can't resist. He's just pulled the toast out of the toaster when he has to turn into his elbow with an heh'chhh! that he follows with a heavier sniff.
"You good?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah, fine," Buck says, then clears his throat. "Eggs are just about ready; you want to grab silverware?"
Eddie lets it drop, though his gaze flickers to Buck every time he sniffles. They're just finishing up their meals when he sneezes again; the allergy meds are helping, as is the fact they're eating in the kitchen- across the house from the tree- but there's only so much they can manage after the monster of an allergy attack earlier.
He snatches up a napkin to cover the h'kCHh'uh!, squeezing it over his nose to wipe it after.
Eddie sets down his own silverware to focus all his attention on frowning at Buck. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm just a little cold," Buck says, hoping Eddie takes it as more than the half-truth it is.
"You know you can borrow a hoodie," Eddie says.
He shakes his head. "We've gotta leave soon anyway. I'll be fine."
"If you're sure."
Buck nods, shoveling the last of his breakfast in his mouth. Eddie's eyes linger on Buck a moment longer, then he follows suit, and they work in tandem to get the dishes cleaned up. As always, he's disappointed to have to leave Eddie's house, but now he's also a little relieved.
It breaks his heart a little to turn down Eddie's invitation to meet him back here after he picks up Chris, but he shrugs it off with an excuse about doing laundry. And it should be true, because he does have laundry that needs doing, but he feels like shit. Plus Maddie's on shift, leaving no one around to witness him being pathetic, so he uses the opportunity to mope around on his air mattress until he drifts into a restless sleep.
*****
After that, Buck tries to find a balance between spending time in Eddie's house and keeping his allergies a secret. He figures there's a good chance Eddie would make it into a thing, decide to ban Buck from his house for the month for his health. And by the time the tree was gone, he'd probably be in the habit of not inviting Buck around- especially now that Shannon- his wife, something he apparently has- is back in his life, apparently. He's got better people to spend his time with.
And he's terrified for the day Eddie decides he doesn't need him around anymore. He's barely known Eddie for any time at all, and it already feels impossible to imagine going back to life without him. Now that he's known what it's like to have a best friend, he doesn't think he can handle going back.
*****
(Eddie POV)
Eddie's lips are downturned, watching Buck as they ride back to the station. The call should have been easy- was easy- just someone with a sprained wrist pinned by a Christmas tree. Check out the wrist, lift the tree off, done.
It's the "lift the tree" part where they- or more specifically, Buck- had hit a snag.
-
"Okay, lift on three, two-" Eddie stops the countdown, confused, when he sees Buck shift, twisting his torso towards the side. One hand stills grips the tree as Buck brings an elbow to his face, waiting. Oh.
heh'chh! Buck's hand retakes its place, and he looks at Eddie expectantly.
Eddie lifts his eyebrows, not quite as eager to get restarted. You good?
Buck nods, adjusting his grip on the tree with a sniff, so Eddie starts again. "Three, t-"
heh'kCHH!
Buck avoids Eddie's eyes as he turns back to the tree this time, glancing at him just long enough to confirm Eddie's still in position before he says, "Sorry. Thr- huH'CHHhuhh!"
When Buck glances at him that time, blushing, Eddie fixes him with an unimpressed look, and Buck blushes deeper. Then his expression screws up again, clearly fighting another sneeze- though not very successfully. heh'CHHHh!
Evidently, Eddie's not the only one paying attention. There's a frown in Bobby's voice as he directs, "Anderson, swap with Buckley."
"Come on, Cap, I'm-" Buck breaks off with a cough, then sighs, stepping back to let Anderson take his place.
Eddie operates on autopilot, lifting the tree easily on the other firefighter's countdown, but his focus is zeroed in on Buck. He's moved to the other side of the room with Bobby, talking in low tones that Eddie can't make out. Bobby's more or less calm, if a little frustrated, so Eddie's not too worried even if Buck looks annoyed.
Once the tree's set back down and he's checked that nothing else needs his hands, he heads straight to Buck. Bobby sees him coming and claps Buck on the shoulder before going back to check in with Hen.
Buck's nose is tinged pink to match his cheeks, though to his credit, he hadn't sneezed again while talking to Bobby. Still, it wasn't the first time today and Eddie'd be surprised if it was the last. He clears his throat as Eddie steps up beside him.
"You sure you're not getting sick?"
"I'm sure," Buck insists, though the congestion in his voice isn't helping his argument. "I just get like this this time of year; it's the cold weather and the temperature changes from going inside and outside all the time and everything."
In addition to sounding vaguely rehearsed, it's not exactly a Pennsylvania winter. "Buck. It's seventy degrees out there."
"Sixty-eight. And you know I get cold easily."
"You're in your long-sleeved uniform and turnouts."
"My nose isn't." Buck sniffles, and when Eddie opens his mouth to say he's not sure what, Buck cuts in first, tone hardened with frustration. "I'm fine, Eddie, just drop it, okay?" He turns on his heel and stalks out of the room, leaving Eddie vaguely shell-shocked and no less concerned. Eddie's called back to the scene before he can follow, though.
-
So, now they're in the engine, Buck sniffly and resolutely refusing to meet Eddie's gaze. His mic is off, and he's looking out the window, so Eddie's pretty sure no one else notices.
When they get to the station, Buck practically leaps out of the engine, and that gathers more attention. Eddie doesn't stop to exchange looks like he can already see Hen and Chim doing, just heads into the locker room after Buck.
By the time he's walking in, Buck already has his shower stuff and practically sprints out of the room when he sees Eddie coming, not even bothering to close his locker. Eddie shuts it for him, rolling his eyes, before following Buck into the shower room at a much more reasonable pace.
Since the last call wasn't very messy or intensive, they're the only two people in there, and it'll probably stay that way. Especially since half the station probably saw Eddie following Buck in here. So, he waits as Buck huffs in implicit acknowledgment of Eddie's presence, he waits as Buck turns on the water and moves under the spray.
After a minute, Buck finally says, "You know, it's generally understood that the shower room is for showering."
Eddie just hums.
"Some people might find it creepy if someone were, for instance, to just follow someone in and listen to them shower."
"They might."
He hears the sounds of Buck lathering shampoo in his hair, then, "I didn't mean to snap at you, okay? This whole thing with Maddie is just getting to me."
Not untrue, he's sure, but not the whole truth. Still, Eddie says, "Okay. Just making sure you're not getting sick. You're on toilet duty next shift and I am not doing it for you."
Buck laughs, caught off guard, and Eddie smiles.
"You busy after shift? We've still got plenty of Star Trek to catch you up on."
He can feel Buck hesitate. "Maybe another time. I promised Maddie I'd meal-prep for the both of us."
The smile falls away from Eddie's face. There's an almost imperceptible tension to Buck's voice; even if he's not lying, there's something he's not saying. Buck's been doing that a lot lately. "Okay. No worries." He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "I'll leave you to your shower, then."
Buck grunts in acknowledgment, and Eddie walks out without looking back.
*****
(Buck POV)
The next shift is a rough one. The calls aren't bad, they end about as well as 911 calls can, but they're non-stop. There's a shit ton of physical labor, families that can't stop fighting long enough to get their knuckles bandaged, and a panicked teenager with a mean right hook who was in a car accident, but manages to walk away with less bruising than Buck's face has now.
Bobby takes them offline for a couple hours, but after that they get put on an abandoned warehouse fire that takes them well past the end of shift. Buck's basically dead on his feet by the time they get back to the station, clumsily showering and getting dressed so he can go home.
He's walking to his jeep with his eyes half-closed when someone plucks the keys out of his hand, and his eyes fly open. "Hey!"
Eddie's smiling at him- though Buck can clearly see the exhaustion just beneath it- and Buck smiles back, unbidden. "Come on. Get in," is all Eddie says before he turns towards his truck, gesturing at the passenger side.
Buck follows easily, too tired to think about the reasons he's been resisting the siren song of Eddie's house. In any case, he'd at least have to follow him to get his keys back.
Instead of asking for them, though, he climbs in and holds the ice pack Eddie gives him to his eye, not even flinching at the cold.
He's too wired to actually fall asleep while Eddie drives, but he lets himself slump against the door, forehead resting on the cool window. The tension of the day is already starting to drip out of him, sitting in traffic with the softly-playing radio doing little against the noise of the city. And beneath the radio, quieter still is Eddie's breathing, and it's enough of a lullaby he's actually starting to drift off by the time Eddie pulls in the driveway.
They stumble inside together, half-asleep but a world away from all the way there.
"Beers?" Eddie asks, and Buck nods. Sniffles as Eddie walks away, then realizes why he's sniffling.
The tree sits in the corner, taunting him. Shit; he hasn't taken any allergy meds in like, 20 hours. Okay. He can find an excuse to get out to his car- his car that's at the station. His jeep, with his loratadine, is at the station. Shit.
Glass bottles clink in the kitchen, and Buck hurries after the sound. Eddie's standing up from the fridge when he gets there. "Why don't we drink them in here?"
Eddie tilts his head. "What?"
"The beers. We should drink them in here."
"Why?" Eddie seems confused as he works the bottle opener, but he's still got a smile tucked in the corner of his lips that Buck's having trouble not staring at.
"Uh- variety. We always drink them out there- we should, y'know, mix things up."
"Okay, we can do that-" Yes! "-sometime, but right now I'm not sure I can stay upright in one of these chairs. Come'n." Fuck.
Eddie walks out of the kitchen, not looking back but Buck knows he'll notice if Buck doesn't follow, even as tired as he is. He'll just have to keep himself under control- those meds are supposed to work for 24 hours anyway. He swipes a sleeve under his nose and follows Eddie into the living room.
While Eddie collapses in the sofa in the usual spot, Buck takes the armchair further from the tree. He can feel Eddie's confusion under his skin, but Eddie doesn't say anything. Just slides his foot out to nudge Buck's as he leans over to pass him a beer, and leaves it there even after he leans back.
They sit in the quiet for a while, nursing their beers, tension slipping from their bones. Buck can see Eddie relaxing, and- even with his growing congestion and how it's getting harder and harder to swallow a cough- can't help but follow suit.
He has to clear his throat a couple times, drawing Eddie's attention, but he doesn't say anything. Sniffling isn't enough for how much his nose is dripping, and he tries to surreptitiously wipe his nose on his sleeve a couple times.
Eventually, despite his best efforts, he fully breaks the silence with a hh- heh'schhoo! he pulls the collar of his hoodie up to cover.
"You okay?" Eddie asks, trying to catch his eyes as soon as they open.
"I'm fine." He clears his throat. "Sorry."
Despite clearly not believing him Eddie lets it drop for the time being. Until Buck's body betrays him again a few minutes later (on top of the constant betrayal of his running nose). heh'kCHhh!
"You coming down with something?"
Buck shakes his head. "It's- hh- it's nuhh- nothing- hh'ktCHHH'uh!"
Eddie doesn't even wait for him to pull his face out of his elbow before saying, "Believe it or not, that wasn't actually convincing."
Fuck, his nose isn't stopping now that it's started. He pulls his hoodie over his face, angling himself away from Eddie as much as he can in this chair. hehh'ktchh! eH- Holds it there with one hand as he uses the other to flip Eddie off, extended hand shaking and fingers tightening in the fabric as- huH'CHHH!
Eddie stands, and Buck's breath hitches, distracting him before he can ask what Eddie's doing. A hand lands on his forehead, carefully avoiding the bruised side, but he still flinches. heh'SCHHOO!
Okay, he actually feels a little better after that one. He drops his collar, sniffs thickly, and ducks back when Eddie tries to put a hand back on his forehead.
"I'm fine, Eddie, I don't have a fever." His words are so congested he'd be surprised if Eddie can understand him.
"I'll be the judge of that."
Buck can already feel another sneezing fit starting to build. He gives in and lets Eddie stick a hand to his forehead, hoping if he lets Eddie see for himself, he'll back off before Buck starts up again.
Except, Eddie, who's now kneeling in front of him, pauses with his hand in front of Buck's face, frowning.
"What now?" Buck bites.
"Your face is all puffy. Are you- is this an allergic reaction to something?"
Shit. "N-no! It's- fuck-" Buck lifts his hoodie back up, trying to turn away, though Eddie's hands are on his knees keeping him mostly in place. "I- eh'chhh! -it's nothing." Not even a little bit working. New strategy. "I- o-or- maybe hh'TCHH! -maybe I am a little sick. I- I should hhuh- heH'KCHH! go-" He practically jumps out of his chair, pushing Eddie back, hoodie still held over his face.
Except he doesn't, because Eddie pushes him back down, then looks around, frowning. "What are you allergic to?"
"Napr- hh'chhuh! naproxen."
"Not the kind of allergy I meant, Buck."
As Eddie's eyes survey the room, and Buck makes the fatal mistake of glancing towards the tree just as Eddie's turning back to him. Which, of course, Eddie catches, immediately turning to follow his gaze.
"Are you... allergic to the tree?" It's a question, but Buck can see the wheels turning in Eddie's head and knows his answer doesn't matter. He's fucked.
He doesn't even try to answer, just coughs vaguely into his shoulder.
Eddie stands, shifts his weight, then offers a hand to Buck. Sighing, he takes it; if he's going to have to leave, he's going to pretend he still has and dignity to take with him.
For some reason, Eddie doesn't let go once he's standing, just waits a second for Buck to find his footing and then pulls him towards the front door. If Buck's dragging his feet, it's only because he's exhausted and his muscles ache.
Except, Eddie doesn't stop at the door. He- keeps leading him down the hallway? A confused noise escapes him, and Eddie looks back, waiting for Buck to stop coughing. "Come on, we need to get you out of here."
Yeah, that's what the door's for. Is Eddie going to make him sneak out the back?
The tugging on his arm is pretty insistent, though, so Buck follows Eddie down the hall, waits as he stops at his bedroom door. Opens it, drags Buck inside, then closes it behind him.
"This is your bedroom," Buck says dumbly, and coughs again.
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, eyes sparkling with laughter. "Why don't you lie down? I should have benadryl around somewhere; I'll be right back." Then, he vanishes down the hall, leaving Buck alone in Eddie's room.
Tentatively, he steps towards the bed, feeling like he's violating some sort of rule. Though he's not sure what else Eddie would have meant.
By the time Eddie comes back in, he's sitting hesitantly on the edge of the bed. It feels safer than lying down, if still wrong.
Eddie just puts a glass of water and a couple pills in his hands, though, as if this is all normal and not deeply strange. He swallows them, if mostly on autopilot, as Eddie steps around him and opens the window.
"It's pretty warm out today, but I have some extra blankets if you need them. Figure we should get some fresh air in here, even if it should already be less bad over here."
hEH'CHHOO! h'tCHHhoo! is the only response Buck manages, feeling struck dumb. He wipes his nose on his sleeve as he pulls his arm away, then sees Eddie staring at him. "Eddie, what-"
"Okay, drink the rest of that water," Eddie says, and Buck's starting to recognize a slightly manic edge to his voice, "there's some tissues- here," he sticks the box on the nightstand opposite where Eddie obviously sleeps, then moves to rummage through his dresser. "And here's a clean sweatshirt. I'll be right back."
After Eddie practically flees the room, Buck sits there for a moment longer before jolting into his elbow with an eh'schhoo! and carrying the momentum to follow Eddie's instructions. Maybe he shouldn't, maybe this is a mistake, but he's tired and would like to lie down somewhere he might not be kept up by his own sneezing. He debates what to do with his own hoodie after he changes before settling on just tossing it in the hamper with Eddie's clothes.
He has just enough time to blow his nose and lie down before Eddie returns, shuts off the lights, and wordlessly climbs into bed beside him. Their arms are brushing; Buck's debating if he should move away and how to do that without seeming awkward when he feels another sneeze building, and that's the answer.
Propping himself up on an elbow, he turns and reaches for the tissues box, and snatches a couple. heh'kCHhh! When he lies back down, he makes sure to position himself further from Eddie, even if he is hanging off the bed a little.
The eye roll is audible in Eddie's voice as he tugs on Buck's arm and says, "All the way on the bed. I don't bite."
Buck shifts over obediently, hoping the dark obscures his blush. Eddie's hand comes up to rest on his forearm as soon as he's settled, and what is Buck supposed to do but drift off to sleep?
*****
When Buck comes to around sunset, he's warm. And he feels good, if a little groggy; better than he's felt waking up since Maddie brought the tree back in. Don't get him wrong; he's happy about that, loves seeing the little smile she gets on her face sometimes when she's staring at the imperfectly-decorated tree (which she wanted to do intentionally, for whatever reason). It's more than worth a little congestion and a scratchy throat.
But he's not congested right now. He's warm, and he's comfortable, and- oh shit. He's in Eddie's bed. More than that, he's in Eddie's arms, his face tucked into Eddie's neck and Eddie's hands resting on his back and Eddie's leg thrown over his. Everywhere is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. They were decidedly not in this position when Buck fell asleep; he would remember that.
Eddie's starting to stir, already, and Buck begins to extricate himself quickly but carefully. Hopefully Eddie isn't awake enough to register it; he doesn't want things to be any weirder between them than they have to be. That was the whole point of hiding his allergies from him- the allergies that Eddie knows about now, shit.
He'd like to burrow back under the sheets (or back into Eddie's arms) and go back to sleep- maybe find out this morning was a dream when he wakes up for real, a friendly distance between them- but it's a little late for that now. Eddie's already opening his eyes as Buck moves to stand, having finished extracting himself from Eddie's hold.
"What's the hurry?" Eddie mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Nothing! Just, uh- gotta pee." He rushes out of the room and into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him. Not that he's going to stay in here long enough that Eddie would just barge in, but it feels more secure.
After he pees, washes his hands, splashes some water on his face, brushes his teeth, and stalls for a few moments longer, he opens the door to see Eddie leaning against the wall, waiting.
"H-hey, Eddie! Fancy seeing you here."
Eddie snorts. "Relax, Buck," he says, clapping Buck on the shoulder as he walks by. "I'll be right out." And then the door is closed, leaving Buck with nothing to do but wait.
The allergy meds have completely worn off by now, and his eyes are getting itchy already. His throat, too. By the time Eddie comes out of the bathroom a couple minutes later, he's thoroughly annoyed by his body's betrayal; if there was any chance Eddie wasn't going to bring it up, it's got to be gone now.
When Bucks hears the doorknob start to turn, he suppresses a cough and prepares his retreat. "I'm gonna head home," he says, voice tellingly raspy, as soon as Eddie opens the door. By the time Eddie's through the door, he's already turned and is walking down the hallway.
"Hey, Buck, wait a second-"
Buck tries to jam his shoes in his feet through eyes that are already starting to blur with allergic tears, much closer to the tree now. Blinking them back, he clears his throat and says, "I've got laundry to-" and then breaks off with a cough.
Eddie freezes in Buck's peripheral vision, then seems to change tracks. "Okay, yeah, you should get out of here-"
Buck feels tears brewing for an entirely different reason now. "I'm working on it," he snaps.
"Wait, shit- not like that-" Eddie says, but Buck's already pulling open the door. He can tie his shoes outside. There's the sound of Eddie scrambling after him, catching the door when Buck tries to shut it. Eddie grabs him by the arm, not letting go when Buck tugs at it perfunctorily.
Or when Buck shakes with a heh'kCHh'uh!, covering it with the arm Eddie's not holding on to.
After he lowers his arm, he turns to face Eddie, who's already looking at him. "Let's go get some food, huh? The Thai place? Then I can drop you off at your car."
"Okay." Buck sniffs, and Eddie releases his hold on Buck's other arm. Which Buck isn't disappointed about at all.
"Okay." Eddie nods. "I'm gonna grab my shoes; you should tie yours."
Buck glances down, and bites back a sigh.
*****
With some food in his stomach and some caffeine, Buck feels a bit more stable by the time he's climbing back into Eddie's truck to get dropped off at his own jeep.
"Feeling better?" Eddie asks, smiling like he already knows the answer.
Buck just rolls his eyes.
Tone getting more serious- "So, uh-" Eddie waits for Buck to turn towards where he's sitting in the driver's seat before he continues. "Why didn't you just tell me you were allergic?"
So you wouldn't try to stop me from hanging around your house. He shrugs. "Didn't want it to be a problem."
Eddie frowns, unsatisfied. "But it was a problem."
Yeah, I'm gross and annoying, Buck thinks, but he knows that's not what Eddie means by it. "It's barely noticeable when I take meds-" an exaggeration, not a lie- "it'd just been a while. I keep some in my car, but," he gestures to Eddie's truck around them.
Eddie's mouth opens, as if to say something, but he shuts it again. The engine rumbles to life as he turns the key. "Well, let's get you back to it."
*****
(Eddie POV)
Eddie is happy to have at least one problem he actually knows how to fix- where he can be pretty sure what he's doing won't end up blowing up in his face. Buck's allergic to his Christmas tree? Easy; he'll get rid of it.
Next year, he can get an artificial tree- he's got a surprising amount of attic space- but this year, he has something... bigger in mind. He was trying to figure out if he could get the tree out of the house by himself- usually he'd call Buck to help with that sort of thing- when something Shannon had said pinged in his head. They'll get the giant tree, and they'll put it in the backyard. Christopher will be ecstatic, Buck will come over again, and something about something Shannon said helping all of them feels like a sign. Makes it easier to believe she'll be good for Christopher, good for all of them.
This whole thing only has three problems: he'll have to convince Christopher they can't do this next year, he still has to get their current tree out, and it's making it increasingly hard to ignore the fact that between Buck and Shannon, the one he wants to shape his life around isn't his wife.
Number two seems the easiest to deal with by far, so after determining there's not really anyone good to ask for help- Buck seems dead set on hiding his allergies from the 118, for some reason, so Eddie's not going to ask any of them, and that's almost everyone he knows- he spends an hour maneuvering a tree out of the house by himself. And then vacuuming and returning all the furniture and wall hangings he'd moved so they didn't get damaged in the process to their rightful locations, with the windows open to air any remaining allergens out.
After he picks Chris up from school, they go pick a new, unreasonably large tree, which he bribes Hen with an offer of free babysitting to help him unload (he tells her Buck's busy, and unloading a tree generates a lot fewer questions than removing one, even if it doesn't fit in his house). And once Chris discovers that fake trees come in colors other than green, that one's not a hard sell, either. Though he may end up with an orange tree, if Chris' color preferences don't change by next year.
His conversation with Shannon, inviting her over for Christmas, is easier than he expected- even if she does seem entirely more knowing than he's comfortable with when he's forced to explain why, exactly, he decided to change the tree. At least he gets the impression she won't be too upset if- Anyway.
Then, he texts Buck, a simple come over tomorrow? that he hopes Buck agrees to without explanation. Eddie wants to see his face when Buck finds out he fixed the problem, for reasons he's not going to examine at the moment. Though he's getting the feeling he'll be forced to sooner rather than later.
Blessedly, Buck texts back sure within five minutes- before Eddie's even stopped staring at his phone. He falls asleep that night with a smile on his face and a sense of contentment that feels both foreign and increasingly familiar in his body.
*****
(Buck POV)
Buck's resting on his air mattress when Eddie's text comes through. Though it's not that restful because allergy medication- while helpful- cannot work miracles. So he sneezes, for the twentieth time today (not the twenty-thousandth at least, thanks Claritin), lazily pulling a sheet towards his face to catch the huhh'SCHHOO!
It leaves him even more congested, but he doesn't feel like getting up to grab one of the (admittedly plentiful- he's pretty sure Maddie thinks he's sick, between the copious time in bed and allergy symptoms, and she bought more accordingly) boxes of tissues. Sheepishly, he blows his nose into the sheets before collapsing onto his back to stare at the ceiling instead of the wall. But he's not moping, he's just- lying in bed while feeling like shit in a very non-mopey way.
And even if he were moping, he has valid reasons for it. He can't go over to Eddie's house anymore- and sure, they can do stuff other places, but that's not the same. Yeah, they can get beers in a bar and hang out- like they already do sometimes- but it's not the same quiet, private companionship they get at home.
Maybe if Buck had an actual home, rather than an air mattress in his sister's apartment (which also has a tree he conveniently didn't mention to Eddie), they could hang out there, but there's still Christopher to consider.
The distance between them is just going to get wider, and Eddie's already been reuniting with his wife, and the three of them will be a happy family. And maybe Buck's a bad person, because he kind of hates that, and he hates that he can't really hate it. Because he can't; Eddie and Christopher deserve to be happy. Even if it's not with him; even if it's never with him.
So, he's on the air mattress with a heap of snotty blankets, a higher-than-technically-recommended amount of allergy medication in his bloodstream, staring at the ceiling, when his phone buzzes with a text. The bzt-pause-bzzzzt-bzt-bzt that signifies that Eddie, specifically, is texting him.
Briefly, he entertains the idea of just ignoring it, at least for a little while, but his hands are already searching the blankets for his phone, so who is he kidding.
come over tomorrow?
Buck stares at the message in disbelief. Is Eddie- is Eddie actually going to still let him come over, after last time? That doesn't seem very Eddie-like. Buck could buy he's not too hung up on how gross Buck is, but Eddie had seemed overly concerned that he was gonna like, die. Maybe Eddie accepted it when he said he was fine if he took allergy meds? He thought it was pretty clear Eddie didn't like, believe him. To be fair, he was exaggerating how well they worked, but really, he doesn't mind a little bit (or a lot) of allergies so much if people aren't avoiding him for them. So he's not not completely fine on them.
More likely Eddie just texted the wrong person. He resolves to wait at least fifteen minutes before he texts back, to give Eddie a chance to realize.
Three minutes later, he gives in and texts back sure, hoping it comes off calm and casual and not like Buck's vibrating with hope. And prays that Eddie doesn't text him back that this is awkward, but...
Eddie doesn't text him back at all, actually. Is that a good sign or a bad sign? Is Eddie just assuming the plans are made and he doesn't need to say anything further? Is he trying to figure out how to let Buck down easy?
...or maybe it's been less than ten minutes and Eddie likely hasn't even seen it. In any case, Buck's feeling restless, so he finally drags himself out of bed and over to make something to eat.
He ends up taking his egg scramble to the couch to eat over bad TV that fails to fully take his mind off Eddie. At least the egg scramble actually turned out pretty well, and having a box of tissues and a wastebasket makes him feel a little less pitiful and gross.
Despite all his overthinking, it takes him until the next morning to realize Eddie hadn't actually specified when tomorrow. He doesn't want to ask, lest Eddie try to cancel, so he just waits until Eddie should be getting home after dropping Christopher off, swallows a decongestant on top of extra allergy meds, and heads over.
*****
When Buck arrives at Eddie's house, Eddie certainly doesn't seem like he was expecting to see someone else, or like he's about to tell him to go home. He just smiles at Buck and steps back to let him into the house; Buck hurries in like Eddie's going to change his mind if he waits a second too long.
As he speed-walks into the living room, he starts reassuring Eddie, "It won't be like last time, I promise, I took meds before I- oh." The corner of the living room where the tree previously resided is empty. "I-it's gone," he says dumbly.
"Did you really think I was just gonna keep something that you're super allergic to in the house?"
"It's not like I live here. And you'd only have it for like another week anyway, I can deal." Buck swallows down the hope he'll be here next year, doesn't want to say anything to jinx it. "And... Eddie. You have a kid, you can't just steal Christmas from-"
Eddie laughs. Laughs. "There's a giant tree in the yard; Shannon's done it before, apparently, when I was in overseas. And you should've seen how excited he was when he found out about the different colors fake trees come in."
Tears are welling up in his eyes, and he doesn't even have allergies to blame them on. Because Eddie did all this, for him. He sits down on the couch, heavily. "You- you didn't need to do all that for me."
"I wanted to," Eddie says, rolling his eyes. "Besides, Chris was getting antsy about the lack of pancakes. Mine aren't the same, apparently."
"Well, yeah."
"Asshole."
"Seriously though, Eddie, it's not a problem if I'm on meds."
"You've been sneezing every time you came over since I got it. And a fair amount on calls that's probably related, now that I'm thinking about it."
Buck shrugs. "It's not so bad, really. It's not a problem for me," he says, accidentally emphasizing the last word.
Eddie's eyes narrow. "Buck, if I cared about you being gross, we wouldn't be friends. I just think you should be able to breathe. It's really not a big deal."
His mouth opens and closes, speechless. It is a big deal, and Eddie really did it for him? Of course he did; he's ridiculously sweet, gentle in a way that Buck admires more than anything. He's just so... good. Why did Shannon ever leave him? Sure, she came back, but if Buck had Eddie, he would never- Oh.
Fantastic. As soon as one secret's out, another takes its space.
While he's realizing things, he absolutely did not need to take that many allergy meds. He'll focus on that, instead of the fact that he's in love with-
"Well, thanks," Buck says, incredibly awkwardly and far too late, then shakes himself. "What do you want to do today?"
*****
Buck sits down on the couch, their mess from making lunch together all cleaned up. Eddie's in the bathroom, so he doesn't stop himself from staring at the corner where the tree used to be. Before Eddie removed it, for him.
Except he's so caught up in his head that he misses Eddie's arrival. "Whatcha looking at?"
"Nothing," Buck says, shaking his head.
"Sure." Eddie settles on the couch without pressing further, then says apropos of nothing, "So, I'm having Shannon over for Christmas."
Buck turns his head to look at Eddie (whose own gaze is fixed firmly on a spot on the floor) so fast he gets whiplash. "You are?"
"Yeah." Eddie's quiet for a moment. "I'm doing the right thing, right?"
He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he says, "Probably. That kid deserves all the people and all the love he can get. I'm not-." He sighs. "I think he misses her." He's seen Chris' gaze lingering on the pictures of her Eddie has up.
Eddie sighs. "He told me that's what he asked Santa for. He just wants her back and I've been keeping her- keeping them apart."
"Because you love him, and don't want him to get hurt. Because you're a good father. And, besides, you're letting her back in now; that's what matters. I'm happy for the both of you," Buck says, though his voice cracks on the last part. Because he is happy for them. Chris deserves to be happy, and so does Eddie- he just wish Eddie could have that kind of happiness with him.
Finally, Eddie looks back at him, though Buck wishes he wouldn't right now. He's not sure what his face is doing, but he's pretty sure it's not as supportive as he wants it to be. He ducks his head just before he hears Eddie take a steeling breath.
"I think she'll be good for Chris. And I... I've gotta figure out how to talk to her again, at least for Chris' sake. But I don't think we've been in love with each other for a long time."
Another steeling breath, and a hand on Buck's knee. Buck gives in and looks at back him, and the intensity and resolve in his face takes his breath away.
"There's someone else I'd like to be my partner, actually."
Great, so he's not going to be with Shannon, but there is some other woman he's apparently been falling in love with, and Buck didn't even know. They'll be a happy family, and Buck will be his best friend and work partner, and he'll just be grateful they let him in their lives at all.
And then Eddie squeezes his knee and says, "If he wants to be."
Eddie's looking at him expectantly, now, but Buck can't manage to say anything, too busy thinking. Thinking about Eddie with some other man, because it's not that he's straight, it's just that he's not interested in Buck.
"He'd be a fool not to want you," Buck says eventually, hoping he sounds more supportive-friend than in love.
Eddie smiles at that, big and bright and beautiful. "Okay. I should talk to Shannon before we make it official, but I don't think there'll be any problems there. We're off next Thursday; do you want to go out for dinner then?"
Buck blinks at the non-sequitur. Also, they rarely make plans to eat out this far in advance. "Sure?"
"Okay. I'll pick you up at 7?"
This sounds... suspiciously like a date. Rewinding the conversation, a lot of it sounds- and Eddie's hand is-
Eddie's looking concerned now, but Buck's mind is whizzing, incoherent until eventually it spits out, "Did you mean me?"
Eddie's face falls, and his hand jerks back from it's spot on Buck's thigh, leaving it feeling colder than makes any logical sense. "Uh- yeah. Is that... a problem?"
"No!" Buck says, volume control failing him. "No problems. Opposite of a problem." Eddie's smiling again now, but Buck can't stop. "Like, the least problem anything can be! It's like- vaccines!"
Laughter. Eddie's laughing at him, and Buck's just glad to hear it. "It's like vaccines?"
Through Eddie's giggles, Buck explains, "Like- they prevent diseases, which are problems. Obviously. So, anti-problems."
"You're making it really hard not to just kiss you right now," Eddie says, and the breath leaves Buck's lungs. His eyes flick down to Eddie's lips, and vice versa, and- "I don't want to be a homewrecker," Buck blurts.
"If this counts as homewrecking, you've already done it," Eddie jokes, but leans back into the cushions. "I'll talk to Shannon about a divorce tonight, and we probably can't get a lawyer or anything until after Christmas, maybe New Year's, but. We've got time."
"Yeah." Buck smiles. "We've got time."