Buck picks them up at the airport and makes them breakfast for dinner or a 5x17 coda
Eddie finally grabs their bags from baggage claim and turns and smiles at the familiar face, inside the glass doors.
“Hey,” Buck says quietly as he takes Chris’ bag.
“Hey.”
“Buck!” Chris cries when he notices him and Buck swings him up as he hugs him.
“Superman, I missed you.”
“Missed you, too.”
Eddie smiles at the sight and startles slightly when he feels a hand squeeze his shoulder, as they set off for the short-term parking.
“Thanks for picking us up,” Eddie says gently so he doesn’t disrupt Chris’ tales of their few days in Texas.
“Always.” Buck looks at him then and Eddie swears it’s the golden light of sunset that’s making his ears turn pink.
“You didn’t have a shift?”
“No.” Buck looks over at him as they both get the bags into Eddie’s truck that Buck drove to pick them up in. “We’re offline for a little while so they can…”
Eddie looks down at Chris, who’s smiling at something on his tablet, and grimaces slightly as he remembers everything Buck told him about Jonah.
“Got it. When do you go back?”
“Day after next.” Buck hops into the driver's seat and Eddie lets him, doesn’t even try to argue.
“At least you got some time off,” Eddie murmurs quietly so as to not let on to Chris that something is off.
“Yeah. Tia Pepa took a later flight?”
“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles. “I think she’s trying to convince Abuela to move back here.”
“Oh I support that, plus Abuela still has to teach me her tamale recipe.”
“She made them this weekend!” Chris cheers from the backseat and Buck makes a wounded sound.
“And you didn’t save any for me?”
“They were all gone, Buck,” Chris pouts and then his tablet dings and he’s forgotten they exist.
“I didn’t know she offered to teach you her tamale recipe?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, during quarantine, said you two weren’t getting enough of her food.”
“She doesn’t even let my mom make them,” Eddie says with a little bit of wonder.
“What can I say? She loves me.”
Eddie smiles and before he knows it they’re pulling into his driveway and Buck is grabbing their bags and telling Chris to wash up before dinner.
Buck heads into the kitchen and Eddie goes to put his suitcase away and he smiles when he sees a bag of paint and spackle on the floor next to Buck’s open duffle in his room that appeared after a quick hasty text of:
Taylor and I broke up, we’re deciding what to do about the loft, can I crash at yours while we figure it out?
To Eddie’s reply of:
Of course, you don’t have to ask. And take the bed!
Eddie notices Buck’s glasses on the other bedside table along with a dog eared book and realizes tonight will be the first night since quarantine that they’ll be sharing a bed together and Eddie’s heart quickens at the thought.
He makes it back into the kitchen and his breath hitches at the banana pancake batter already made, the bacon already sizzling to just the right side of almost burnt, and the fixings for Buck’s scrambled eggs on the counter.
“I figured breakfast for dinner if that’s okay?” Buck asks as he cracks more eggs into a bowl and whisks them expertly.
It’s my favorite. Eddie wants to say but from the look on Buck’s face, he knows, so Eddie just smiles and nods.
He’s always been able to make eggs, despite what he yelled at his dad the other day. You can throw anything into them and it’s been an easy way to make sure Chris eats his veggies.
But the way Buck’s making them, with cream cheese, mushrooms, and chives, well, that’s his favorite way to eat them.
“That’s my favorite,” Eddie says after a moment and Buck smiles.
“Yeah, I know. You mentioned it once when I made breakfast for us.”
“No I mean…” Eddie trails off, a little unsure but already in it so he might as well say it all. “It’s my favorite because that’s the way you make them for us. Me.”
“Eddie.” His name punches out of Buck, breathless, as his neck and cheeks turn pink and Eddie smiles and bumps their shoulders together softly.
“You know. I made eggs for my sisters once,” Eddie states unprompted.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, burned them. Set off the smoke alarms. Got my ass chewed out.” Eddie shrugs like it isn’t a big deal, but the hurt still lingers and he thinks Buck understands by the small sound he makes in sympathy.
“Something you talked about this weekend?” Buck prompts like he knows.
“Yeah. You know, I had to be the man of the house or some shit. Cooking wasn’t involved in that.”
“I love cooking,” Buck responds softly and Eddie nods.
“I know you do.”
“Plus, the kitchen is the heart of the home.” Buck’s dimples pop as he smiles.
