tea, midnight whispers, and answers found on a couch
T || 4.6k
“The whole, uh…” Buck has to take a beat to swallow; he’s not smiling anymore—Eddie isn’t either. They’re just breathing. Stalling—not because they’re nervous, but because it feels good—stalling; soaking this in. This very moment, right here; the second they do this, everything is going to change. Buck can’t wait for everything to change, but this is good, too—sitting at the very top of a rollercoaster, just waiting for the drop. The rush. “…whole confessing your, uh…” Buck continues—eyes falling closed; they’re too close to see anything now, anyway. Eddie’s hand has stopped combing through his curls, instead supporting the back of his head above where his forearm is doing the same. Holding him. “…confessing your mutual, undying love thing. ‘S usually sealed with a kiss.” If his chin twitches a fraction of an inch up, and his bottom lip drops just a little bit, he thinks he’s allowed. “Eddie…” he breathes, when an entire second passes and he doesn’t move. Or speak.
“You’re letting me take the jump off the bridge?” Eddie jokes through a whisper—almost as if they’re two teenagers, giggling under the covers at a sleepover way past their bedtime.
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