"Hey, listen, I'll take the couch so you can-"
"Like hell I'm making you sleep on the couch in your own home," Eddie cuts in.
"Eddie, I've managed for years."
"And for the last three months, you've been sleeping in an actual bed. I'm not kicking you out of it."
"Well I'm not letting you take the couch," Buck declares, folding his arms. It's petulant, probably, but it's for Eddie's benefit. He's not about to let Eddie sleep on the couch after a twelve hour drive in a fucking Prius.
"Alright, ya know what? We'll just share. Compromise, right?" Eddie smiles, somehow smug and tired all at once.
And it would be fine, it should be fine, but as soon as Eddie enters the bedroom, Buck is reminded of a certain other man he'd shared that bed with, too recent to forget.
Which shouldn't be a problem. It's Buck's bed, not Eddie's. But it's Eddie's home, always has been always will be, and the entire time Tommy's hands were on him, Buck felt like... like he was somehow betraying Eddie. Cheating on him. Which is insane, by the way.
Because they're not- they can't ever- they just-
Eddie is straight.
End quote, close paragraph. The end.
Eddie notices Buck hovering in the doorway of his own- their own?- bedroom and his shoulders drop as he huffs. "Do not tell me you're gonna sneak out to the couch as soon as I'm asleep, because I will-"
"Tommy slept in this bed," Buck blurts out, like a fool.
Buck actually hears Eddie's teeth click when he snaps his mouth shut. The silence is deafening, and suffocating, and all Buck can hear in his head is competition, a scoff and an attempt to out his best friend.
"You... called Tommy." Eddie doesn't sound disappointed, which Buck was hoping for. Pity, he could've dealt with. Explained it away as a moment of lonely weakness, which isn't wholly false. But no. No, Eddie sounds... furious.
And what the fuck is Buck supposed to do with that?
"Ravi found him at a bar and brought him over to babysit me because I couldn't shut up about you." Rambling. That's what Buck's going to do with that apparently.
He's staring at the bed, it's mocking him. Fresh sheets, turned down covers, like he could erase what happened from his mind entirely.
"You brought him here?" Eddie asks, his voice low.
"In my defense, I was drunk, and it was tequila drunk, and I hadn't spoken to you since you left at that point, and he was shocked you were gone, and he bought champagne, and-"
"Champagne?" Eddie asks instead of getting hung up on how pathetic the whole situation was.
"I still have the bottle," Buck shrugs.
"Why?"
The vagueness of the question is enough to tear Buck's gaze from the incriminating mattress. "Why do I still have the bottle?"
"Why did he buy champagne?" Eddie asks.
That's the part Eddie decides to get hung up on.
Competition. Scoff. Okay.
And Buck could- should- excuse it as mimosas. But Eddie still looks furious, and it's unfair that Buck wants to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness, or maybe reach for his belt. "Because you were out of the way."
Eddie's scowl grows deeper. He takes a step forward, away from the bed and towards Buck. "You're living in my house. The champagne's in my fridge."
"And you were 800 miles away," Buck shrugs. "Physical distance was good enough, I guess."
"Was it?" Eddie takes another step, and Buck didn't notice just how close they'd gotten. He can feel Eddie’s hot breath fan his lips. If he turns his head just so their noses would brush.
The question throws him off. He's not sure what Eddie's asking. He's a little afraid he already knows.
"Was what?"
"Was it good enough that I was 800 miles away?" Eddie asks. "Was it good enough to have someone else instead of me?"
Eddie doesn't mean it the way Buck thinks he does. He doesn't. He's straight. And he was a renter.
Buck wonders if the other statement is past tense too.
Eddie searches his face for something. Buck doesn't know for what. He must find it though, must see the confusion beneath the twinge of guilt.
"It wasn't good enough for me," Eddie admits. "To think about you, and dream about you. I spent three months wishing you were in my bed with me and you brought him to yours."
And...
Buck knows that tone. Knows the venom way too well. He once thought it was just disapproval. Classic best friend not liking their best friend's partner(s).
Go team.
Why don't you ask Natalia?
Didn't know we could bring a date to a bachelor party.
Scoff, okay.
Buck told Tommy he didn't have to sleep with everyone he has feelings for. Caught in another lie.
"It wasn't good enough for me," Buck admits.
The corner of Eddie's mouth twitches up into a smirk. Smug and satisfied. He tilts his head just so and their noses brush this time. Buck's breath hitches in his throat. "Then what would be?"
Buck doesn't hesitate. "You."
He surges forward, fingertips digging into Eddie's jaw as he draws him into a kiss that feels right. It's certain, and sure, and all consuming. It's a claim, one they're trying to stake on each other.
Eddie's hands grip Buck's hips like he's never going to let go. He pulls Buck closer, and Buck wishes their ribcages could lock together. Buck licks into his mouth and Eddie groans, arching into him like he can fuse them together. Buck hopes he can.
He tugs Buck with him as he walks to the bed, pulls him down when his knees hit the mattress. Their lips don't separate.
Buck's fingertips trip down Eddie's chest, his abs, feels the way Eddie trembles beneath him. He swallows the gasp Eddie can't hold back and curls his fingers around his belt.
~~~
It's later, when they're sated and sleepy and wrapped in each other's arms, that Eddie brings it up again.
“You said you still had the bottle?” he asks, his voice a little rough. His hair is a wild mess, and the pink flush to his skin has yet to fade. He's beautiful.
“Yeah,” Buck replies, tracing patterns on Eddie's back. “Why?”
“I think this calls for a celebration,” Eddie grins. “After all, I won the competition.”
Buck rolls to hover over him. “Sweetheart, there never was one.”
[also on ao3]