#huge huge HUGE shoutout to weresilver-in-space

[icarusbuck]

31. I trust you

FOX! 911 | minor concussion

∞

Buck turned in a slow circle, careful not to lose his footing on the red clay tiles of Eddie's roof. A long line of string lights spread before him, doubling back on itself and looping around in a mimicry of the Santa hat sketched on a piece of paper in his hand. He consulted the drawing with some amount of skepticism and tilted his head, eyeing the distance between the peak of the roof and the gutter.

"You know," he called out to Eddie, bending at the waist to adjust one of the places where the lights were attached, "this is going to drive your energy bill through the roof." The roof clips were easy to slide around, and he straightened carefully once he was satisfied with the new placement.

"Christopher wants to win the neighborhood contest," Eddie replied, his voice impossible to place over the edge of the roof. He was busy arranging the dozen or so inflatable decorations around the yard.

"Chris does, or you do?" Buck teased, squinting once more at the drawing. The matching hat on his head sat crooked after bending over, the little ball at the end dangling in front of his face. He swatted it to the side and tugged the hat back into place.

"Please. Where do you think he gets his sense of competition?" Eddie's voice had moved again.

"What sense of competition?" Buck laughed. He shifted his weight, careful to keep as much of his rubber soles in contact with the slippery roof tiles as possible. In retrospect, it may have been worth tying himself to the chimney. From his vantage point, it was almost impossible to gauge whether the lights were shaped appropriately. At best, it just looked like he'd tossed the string lights and left them. "Hey, do you think this looks right?"

"Sure. I trust you," Eddie said flippantly. He sounded even further away, which was odd considering how small the front yard was.

"Did you even look?" Buck sighed, rolling his eyes. He turned in place and surveyed Eddie's progress on the yard. There were several sad half-inflated reindeer and extension cords snaking between them all, but no Eddie. Taking a step closer to the gutter, Buck leaned over to scope out to the far reaches of the property.

In either direction, there were only a handful of other houses that boasted any decorations at all, and none were as extravagant as what Eddie had planned. Buck frowned and turned his attention back to not falling off the roof.

"Isn't it a little early to go all in on Christmas? I mean, I respect the commitment, but Halloween was yesterday." He finally gave up waiting for Eddie's appraisal and folded up his drawing, tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. "Eddie?"

He told himself Eddie had just gone inside, but the little spark of fear at the back of his mind ignited when he received no response. The ladder was on the other end of the roof, and worry made him careless. He didn't pay as much attention to his footing as he'd done before, and with the ladder still several feet away, he slipped.

With a clipped yelp, he went down, landing on one ass cheek on the tile. He began to slide immediately, fingernails scraping against the shaped clay, and then the roof was no longer under him. His stomach tilted during his brief period of free fall. It happened too quickly for him to even pray for a soft landing. One moment he was standing on the roof, and the next his momentum was halted by a body. The air rushed out of him when they both toppled into one of the inflatables.

"How the hell did you know I would be there?" Eddie griped from beneath him, shoving at the synthetic material pressing into his face. Buck scrambled onto his hands and knees, meeting Eddie's glare with concerned surprise. "I swear you aimed for me," he accused.

"I didn't," Buck said, getting quickly to his feet. He reached down to help pull Eddie out of the inflatable. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Eddie winced, rocking back on his heels once he'd gained his feet. He leaned away unsteadily and Buck grabbed his arm again to steady him, frowning.

"Did you hit your head?" Buck bent to get a better look at Eddie's eyes, feeling the back of his skull for a bump.

"I don't think so," Eddie said, but it sounded like a question. "Did you hit my head?"

Buck pressed his lips against a retort and shook his head. "Come on. I'm taking you to get checked out."

"Buck, I'm fine," Eddie scoffed, pulling free of Buck's grip. He stumbled immediately, and Buck was met with no resistance this time when he grabbed him again. "Whoa," Eddie groaned, pressing his palm to his forehead.

"You're definitely not fine," Buck insisted, and he marched them both over to the Jeep. Eddie climbed into the passenger seat willingly, but drew the line when Buck tried to clip the seatbelt for him. As soon as Buck was in the driver's seat, Eddie squinted at him.

"Can I borrow some sunglasses?"

Buck eyed the gray skies and glanced back as he fetched the pair from the center console.

∞

The emergency department was having a blissfully slow day, but the process of getting Eddie checked in and filling out forms and seeing one of the doctors still took them a few hours. The diagnosis was a mild concussion and the recommended course of action was to just rest, and Buck was given a list of symptoms to watch for.

Once, while they waited, Eddie turned to look at Buck.

"Is Christopher okay?" He asked with a worried frown.

Buck had to fight a smile. "Yeah, he's fine," he assured him.

He took care of arranging an overnight stay for Christopher with Abuela. While Eddie's symptoms were minor, they both knew how unpredictable concussions could be, and he didn't want the added stress of worrying about Christopher if his dad needed to be rushed back to the hospital in the middle of the night.

Night had fallen by the time Eddie was released. His disorientation and confusion fluctuated, but never grew severe enough for him to stay. Once they were safely back at Eddie's, Buck left him in the dining room and called Bobby.

"Hey Buck," Bobby greeted, backed by a chorus of voices. The voices quieted after a moment. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Buck said, keeping his voice low despite being a room away from Eddie. "Eddie needs to take a couple sick days, though. He's got a concussion."

"Is he okay?"

"He will be. But I was also wondering if I could use up some vacation to make sure he's okay. Between his concussion and Chris's needs…"

"I understand," Bobby said, picking up as Buck's words trailed off. "Take a few days, make sure he recovers."

"You got it, Captain," Buck said, smiling. He hung up and returned to the dining room, where Eddie was still seated at the table.

"I don't feel good," he mumbled. Buck took the seat next to him and awkwardly patted his hand.

"I know. I'm sorry, head injuries suck. You're supposed to avoid screens and bright lights, maybe we could listen to something?" Buck offered, though he doubted any noise at all would be pleasant. From what little he remembered of his own head injuries, any sound at all was pure misery.

"Why?” Eddie frowned, his gaze transferring from the ceiling to Buck.

"Because you have a concussion," Buck said patiently. He felt a twinge of guilt; this was definitely his fault.

"Oh," Eddie said. He frowned down at his hands and picked at his cuticles. "I'm tired," he complained after a few seconds, his face pinching almost comically. His shoulders fell inward as he leaned forward to put his forehead on the table.

"I know," Buck said again, wincing. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch. At least you'll be more comfortable there." He stood and held out his hand, but Eddie swatted clumsily at it and found his feet by himself. It was almost comical how quickly he reached out to steady himself with Buck's shoulder, and Buck simply raised an eyebrow at him.

"I can do it," Eddie assured him, his fingers patting Buck's shoulder as if that was all he'd meant to do. He drew in a steadying breath and set off for the living room, Buck hot on his heels just in case. When he reached the couch, he sagged onto it with a groan.

Buck sat beside him. A mixture of guilt and worry had him watching Eddie like a hawk, but it was shortlived. Eddie smacked the back of his knuckles against Buck's arm.

"Stop it," he grumbled, shifting about on the couch. "You're so tense."

"Forgive me for worrying about you," Buck said dryly, rolling his eyes.

"Now you know how it feels," Eddie muttered under his breath.

"What?" Buck tried to meet his eyes, but Eddie wasn't looking at him. His eyes were unfocused, directed toward the fireplace. He shook himself and refocused his attention on Buck.

"Huh?"

Buck shook his head, choosing to ignore the little changes the concussion had brought out. He pulled his phone out again and went through the list of symptoms - that one included - to remind himself precisely when it would be time to worry.

"What were you saying?" Eddie prodded, knocking his knee into Buck's.

Buck looked up from his phone, surprised to find Eddie looking at him. He wasn't sure how much of this Eddie was real and how much was the bump on the head, but he figured they were still in safe territory. "I wasn't. You were saying you worry about me."

"Oh yeah," Eddie said, nodding. "You do a lot of shit worth worrying about."

"Like what? Aside from my job," Buck challenged, setting his phone aside. He settled back into the cushions, wiggling in between two of them.

"Like falling off the roof," Eddie fired back, and Buck had to admit that it had merit. Eddie slouched down, searching for a comfortable position, and wound up tipping slightly to lean into Buck's side. He sighed his contentment and closed his eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't have fallen off the roof if you weren't hellbent on winning your neighborhood competition. Eyes open," Buck said, setting his arm on the back of the couch. Eddie took advantage of the space it created, making agreeable noises as he snuggled into Buck's side. Buck raised an eyebrow; it wasn't uncommon for either of them to touch, but this was decidedly different from sideways hugs and bumping arms as they walked.

Eddie's eyes opened obediently after several seconds, and he looked up at Buck. "Thanks," he said softly.

Buck patted his shoulder, squeezing him closer after a moment's hesitation. "It's the least I could do after you broke my fall."

"I'll always catch you," Eddie affirmed, his lips twitching. "Especially when you fall for me." His voice shook, and he gave in to the giggle that threatened.

"What?" Buck asked, a little too sharply this time. He tensed involuntarily and couldn't suppress the odd feeling tugging at the back of his mind.

"What?" Eddie repeated, frowning at him.

Buck wiped his hand over his face, hiding behind his palm in order to school his expression. "You are running in circles, and it's driving me crazy," he sighed.

"Now you know how it feels," Eddie said again. There was a hint of a smirk on his face, but it faded quickly. He cast his eyes about the room as though looking for something. "I won't remember this in a few days, will I?"

Buck edged the shoulder not occupied by Eddie's head into a shrug. "You might, but… probably not. I don't remember most of mine."

Eddie nodded and set his jaw. He sat up and turned in place to face Buck, lifting one hand to cup his jaw. There was a clarity in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Buck held his breath and waited for an explanation, but the quiet stretched on.

"Eddie," Buck breathed, setting his hand on Eddie's shoulder. "This is just the concussion." He didn't know if he was trying to convince Eddie or himself, though.

"How do you know?" Eddie demanded, his fingertips digging in behind Buck's jaw, pulling at him.

"I know you," Buck asserted, but his resolve crumbled the longer Eddie stared at him.

"You think so?" Eddie loosened his grip. Keeping his hand there, he rubbed his thumb over Buck's mouth, following the movement with his eyes. "Are you sure?"

Eddie met his eyes again, and the rest happened in slow motion. He leaned in, moving his finger out of the way just to replace it with his lips.

They were softer than Buck expected, a tentative press that lasted forever and not long enough. He closed his eyes to savor it, to revel in the ache it caused, to commit the feeling to memory. The side of Eddie's nose nudged against his, and it was so close to perfect, save for the ever present knowledge that Eddie had a concussion.

Eddie held him still and released a shaky breath across Buck's lips. Then he tipped his head and went back for more, taking Buck's bottom lip between his. Against his better judgment, Buck kissed him back.

∞

Buck kept his distance after that. One kiss. One long kiss. One long kiss with a man who had a concussion and a kid and deserved a pass.

He stayed during his time off and carefully avoided the subject, and Eddie, and ignored the longing he felt for another one.

Because it was just one kiss, and knowing Eddie wouldn't remember it made those next few days agony. He was almost relieved to go back to work and escape the persistent feeling that he'd taken advantage, the guilt that accompanied it. Things would go back to normal soon enough, but if he avoided Eddie's texts and busied himself with work instead, normal would return even faster.

That's what he told himself, anyway. He repeated it like a mantra whenever his phone buzzed and signaled Eddie's boredom.

Work only provided a distraction for a few days, and then he wound up back at Eddie's as promised. He was a glutton for punishment and apparently ready for more.

Eddie opened the front door as soon as Buck's feet hit the ground. He looked better than he had the last time Buck had been over, more rested. His eyes narrowed as Buck picked his way in between the decorations. The job had fallen to him to finish after the visit to the emergency department, and he'd done so happily as an excuse to escape Eddie's scrutiny.

"You've been avoiding me," Eddie said, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You know, if you were that sick of me, I could have gotten Carla to come babysit."

Buck rolled his eyes. "You're needy when you aren't concussed," he retorted, brushing Eddie aside so he could enter the house. He held out a bag of takeout and shook it. "Truce?"

"We'll see," Eddie grumbled, snatching the bag from him. He shoved his nose into it and took a deep sniff as he headed over to the couch. There were plates and forks already laid out in anticipation of Buck's arrival, a gesture that managed to ease his guilt further.

The subject hadn't come up again, but in the wake of that first night Eddie grew even more tactile. Touch for Buck had always been important, a way to ground him even on his worst days. Working side by side had taught Eddie when Buck needed it most, and he was always happy to provide it.

Now that it was Eddie who needed grounding, Buck couldn't find it in himself to deny him.

Eddie sat down onto the couch and laid out the food. Buck detoured to the kitchen to retrieve a couple bottles of water, and by the time he returned the plates were already loaded and the movie was starting. He took his place beside Eddie and wasn't surprised when Eddie scooted closer, closing the distance until there was no space between them from shoulder to knee.

They ate quickly and in silence, largely because Buck hadn't realized how hungry he was, but soon he sat back with his bottle of water and a sated sigh.

"Any interesting calls while I've been out?" Eddie asked, nudging the plates aside so he could prop his feet up on the table after he sat back. He leaned into Buck's side and Buck put his arm over the back of the couch, making the space as comfortable as possible.

"The usual. All the crazy shit happened on Halloween."

Eddie snorted and shifted, using Buck like his personal armrest. He rested his hand on Buck's knee, and Buck tensed.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of water, reminding himself that Eddie just needed normalcy while he regained his bearings. Concentrating on the movie was made impossible when Eddie started rubbing slow circles with his thumb.

God, this was going to kill him.

Buck glanced sideways after a few minutes and froze. Eddie was already staring intently at him. His fingers tightened in the beat of silence that followed.

"Okay," Buck huffed. The word fell from his mouth involuntarily and he swallowed as a small smile emerged on Eddie's face. He mentally went back through the week as they stared at each other, realizing after several days that it might not have been the concussion after all.

Or at least, that the concussion had just brought everything to light for both of them.

"Okay?" Eddie prompted.

Buck tipped his head, searching his eyes for answers. He held up his hand to stop Eddie as soon as he opened his mouth again. "No, wait a second. You can't tell me I was wrong here," he insisted.

Eddie shook his head as his smile widened into a grin. He closed the distance between them and covered Buck's mouth with his own, effectively shutting him up.

"You had a concussion!" Buck protested, his words trapped in between them. He tried to pull back and smiled despite himself.

"Shut up," Eddie ordered, chasing after him. He refused to allow Buck any distance, taking Buck's face in his hands and kissing him again. When Buck sat back, Eddie followed, twisting halfway into his lap.

"How was I supposed to know this was real?" Buck murmured against his lips. He set his hand on Eddie's hip to guide him.

"God, will you shut up?" Eddie groaned, breaking away long enough to seat himself across Buck's thighs. His knees tucked in on either side of Buck's hips and he framed Buck's head with his forearms, looking down at him with a mixture of wonder and exasperation. He couldn't escape even if he wanted to. And he very much did not want to.

A laugh bubbled forth and Buck pulled him closer, acquiescing to Eddie's assault. There would be time for answers after they made up for all the lost time.