here’s how buddie roommate era can still win-

pairing: buck/eddie

summary:

buck with chris

buck can’t blame him, really. the diaz house is warm and safe, and the couch is pretty comfortable if you don’t have legs as long as buck’s. but it still hurts his heart every time, because theo has been having…dreams. not nightmares, per se, but dreams that wake him all hours of the night and make it impossible for him—and by extension buck—to go back to sleep.

“he doesn’t totally grasp death,” buck tells eddie in a hushed tone after chris has gone to bed, theo tucked under a quilt isabel made for eddie’s 18th birthday. “he dreams about them coming back from heaven or wherever it is the social worker told him connor and kameron went, and then cries when he realizes they aren’t there.”

buck cries too, when theo is tucked against his chest bawling his little eyes out. cries for his friends, sure, but more so he cries for theo, for the life that was taken from him, for all the mistakes buck was going to make in raising him.

“i was his age when my grandfather died,” eddie says, dark eyes warm and deep as they meet buck’s gaze. “my mom’s dad. everyone told me he was up in heaven, watching over me, so i assumed that every big cloud i saw was Heaven and that maybe if i stared long enough, i’d see him.” eddie pauses, taking a long pull of his beer. he sets it down on the kitchen table and sighs. “i stopped trying after a few months. i don’t even think i cried until my fifth birthday rolled around and i realized he wasn’t coming to the party.”

buck swallows back a lump in his throat. “all my grandparents had passed by the time i was born. i don’t think i attended a funeral until high school. i still haven’t recovered from bobby. i don’t know how to help him, eddie.”

eddie gives him an disbelieving look. “of course you do. you helped me after shannon. you helped chris when i got shot. it’s not about saying some magic words that’ll cure theo of the trauma he hasn’t processed, it’s about being there for him. and you are.” his face softens. “and so are chris and i.”

buck nods, eyes burning. “i love him so much but i would give up everything to bring his parents back.”

“and that,” eddie says quietly. “is how i know you’re going to help him better than anyone else could.”

for the first time since the boys went to bed, buck smiles. it’s a shaky, watery thing, but eddie looks at him with such loving confidence that buck can’t help himself.

“you should sleep,” eddie says, standing. “you look like shit.”

“don’t make me blush,” buck deadpans, but he follows eddie. he would follow eddie anywhere. “i’ll get theo up and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“don’t,” eddie says sharply. “it’ll be hell to get him back to sleep. just bunk with me.”

buck’s mouth goes dry. “with you?”

they file into eddie’s bedroom, and eddie tosses a pair of sweatpants at him, old and gray and soft. “your usual spot is taken. my bed’s big enough for two.” if buck was more delusional, he’d say eddie looked pleased. smug, even.

“you can’t kick me out if i snore,” buck mumbles, pulling off his jeans. “can we keep-“

“the door open?” eddie asks. “was already planning on it. in case theo needs us.”

us. not buck. us.