Buck opens the door to the Diaz household before Eddie gets there to hold it out for him.
"I do have a working arm, Buck," Eddie laughs but goes through the doorway anyway. This is the first time he's been home since he's been shot, and he's been missing this place. He walks into the living room--not needing to put his bags down because Buck had kept insisting that he should carry anything that needs to be carried--aiming to just sit down so they can talk more. They talked the entire time home, Buck rambling and Eddie nodding along, and they want to continue the conversation on the couch. He stops at the edge of the couch, it's still pulled out into a bed, the blankets tossed to the side. Why did he sleep on the co-
"Oh- uh, sorry I forgot to take care of this," Buck mutters, interrupting Eddie's thought. He passes by and starts grabbing the blankets.
"Why did you sleep on the couch?" Eddie voices. Buck looks up with a puzzled expression.
"Why wouldn't I?" He asks.
"Because my bed is just in the other room," Eddie gestures in its general direction, "It's not like I was using it," He jokes. Buck's expression changes to something he can't read.
"Yeah, yeah I know I just- I didn't want to sleep in your bed," Buck mumbles the rest of it, but they're close enough that Eddie can still hear him.
"Is there a reason?" Eddie asks, stepping slightly closer.
"Well, uh," Buck stutters, "I mean, it just felt wrong to sleep in your bed."
"Buck, you know I don't mind-"
"How was I supposed to know you wouldn't mind?" Buck cuts him off.
"Why would I, it's not like I was here to stop you," Eddie states.
Buck takes a breath like he's about to say something back, but instead, he just turns away from Eddie.
"What?" Eddie asks.
"It's just that-" Buck turns around slowly, "It would've been weird sleeping in your bed when you were in the hospital."
"Would it've made a difference if I was in the bed?" Eddie asks jokingly, even though a part of him wants Buck to say yes, for him to say that him being in the hospital, for him to say that him getting shot was a living hell for other reasons and not just because they're best friends.
But Buck just stands there, his face crumpling. He quickly turns and goes back to taking care of the couch, but Eddie stops him by grabbing his wrist.
"Eddie-" Buck chokes out, he's almost close to tears.
"Tell me, Buck," Eddie says.
"Yes, okay?" Buck turns and faces Eddie, "Yes, it would have made a difference if you were in the bed. Because at least then I would have known you were okay-" A sob escapes his mouth and before Eddie realizes what he's doing he's wrapping his good arm around Buck's shoulders and Buck grabs his waist, making sure he misses his bad arm.
"I-I didn't know if you were okay," he sobs into Eddie's neck, "I couldn't function, I-I.."
"Shh, it's okay, I'm here now," Eddie murmurs into Buck's hair. For a few minutes, they stay like that, Buck crying and letting out what he couldn't when Eddie was in the hospital still because so many people were still counting on him, and Eddie reassuring him that it's okay, that he's okay.
"Thank you," Buck says when he finally let's go. Eddie nods in response.
They both start at the same time and then laugh for a second.
"You go," Buck says.
"No, no, you," Eddie responds. Buck chews on his lip for a second.
"I just- What now?" He asks, looking at Eddie as open and vulnerable as he's seen him, and he's seen Buck go through a lot.
"It is pretty late. We can always go to bed?" Eddie asks, inviting Buck to sleep in his bed with him.
"Are you sure?" Buck questions.
"I'm sure Buck."
"Well then," Buck smiles, his eyes still puffy from when he was crying, but his smile is genuine, "let's go."