Chapter Text
The station kitchen was unusually quiet.
Too quiet.
Buck stepped inside and immediately spotted the source of the silence: Eddie Diaz, sitting at the table with his arms crossed over his chest, lower lip jutting out so dramatically it could’ve qualified for its own ZIP code.
Buck sighed. “Oh no. What happened now?”
Eddie didn’t answer. He just huffed, kicked the table leg, and stared moodily into the middle distance.
Buck grabbed a protein bar, unwrapped it, and leaned against the counter.
“Alright. Tell me why you look like someone stole your birthday.”
Another huff. Bigger this time.
Buck raised an eyebrow. “Edmundo.”
Nothing.
Buck crossed the room, crouched in front of him, and gently nudged Eddie’s knee with his own.
“Eddie.”
Eddie finally looked down at him, eyes full of wounded betrayal.
“We’re out of Dum Dums.”
Buck blinked. “Oh my god.”
Eddie threw his hands up. “I NEEDED SOMETHING SWEET, BUCK. I HAVE A SYSTEM.”
Buck bit back a laugh. “You’re… devastatingly serious about this.”
“YES,” Eddie snapped, arms crossing again. “And somebody ate the last cherry one and I think it was Chim and I’m gonna cry.”
Buck straightened, walked behind Eddie, and without hesitation slid his arms under Eddie’s and lifted him—one smooth motion—right off the chair.
Eddie squawked. “BUCK!”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I earned this pout!”
“You earn every pout.”
Buck dropped into the chair Eddie had been using, pulled Eddie onto his lap, and wrapped an arm securely around his waist. “Now quit kicking.”
Eddie kicked anyway. Three times. Half-hearted.
Buck tightened his arm.
“Dammit, Eddie.”
Eddie melted instantly, like Buck saying his name like that flipped some internal switch. He slumped against Buck’s chest, head tucked under his chin, still glaring at the floor.
“I wanted a Dum Dum,” he muttered.
“I know,” Buck murmured, rubbing slow circles over Eddie’s hip. “We’ll get you more after shift.”
Eddie mumbled something that sounded like you’re mean, but he was already curling closer. Buck could feel Eddie’s breath warming his collarbone.
Buck hummed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Eddie rolled his eyes but didn’t move off his lap. “You like it.”
Buck didn’t deny it. He couldn’t. Not with Eddie sitting sideways in his lap like he belonged there, all warm limbs and soft brattiness.
“Just relax for a minute,” Buck said. “You’re wound up.”
Eddie muttered, “I am not.”
Buck pressed a kiss—not quite a kiss, just a grounding touch—into Eddie’s hairline without thinking.
Eddie went still.
Buck froze too.
For one heartbeat, neither moved.
Then Eddie whispered, quiet and shaky, “You can’t just… do that.”
Buck swallowed. “Did you want me to stop?”
Eddie’s fingers curled in Buck’s shirt.
“…no.”
Buck exhaled, long and soft, and rested his chin in Eddie’s hair.
“Good.”
Eddie let his full weight sink into Buck, legs draped over his thigh.
“What if the crew walks in?” Eddie asked.
Buck shrugged. “Then they’ll see you pouting on my lap. Nothing new.”
Eddie elbowed him. “Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
“You shut up first.”
Buck laughed, low in his chest. Eddie’s ears turned pink.
And that’s when it happened—Eddie shifted, just a tiny bit, and Buck’s arms instinctively tightened around him.
Eddie looked up at him through those ridiculous lashes and Buck felt something in his chest trip over itself.
Eddie whispered, “You’re so warm.”
Buck whispered back, “You’re trouble.”
Eddie grinned. “You like that, too.”
Buck sighed into Eddie’s hair, his voice warm and helpless:
“Dammit, Eddie…”