i’ll bandage up your body and your bones and your bad days too | 5.6k, teen
fill for @badthingshappenbingo—kick them while they are down
“Hey, pretty boy,” he says, softly, and reaches in to wipe off a stray tear and drip of snot.
Eddie rolls his eyes and laughs, thick and nasty, because he knows he’s not pretty right now, red-faced and wild-eyed and wet with tears, wet with snot and spit and sweat and all sorts of other things, but Buck really, truly, thinks so. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t.
“Hi.”
Buck’s smile widens. “Wanna scoot over and let me in?” he asks, ducking down so he can meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie nods and scrambles to move, sliding over just enough for Buck to squeeze in and then slumping against his wide chest. Buck shuts the door, wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, and kisses his forehead. He smells like smoke and Hen’s fruity lotion. “You’re burning up, baby.”
Eddie nods, hiccups, and says nothing.
Buck brings his other arm around to hold Eddie closer, tighter. “You said you were feeling better,” he says, whispery-soft, as he combs Eddie’s damp hair off his forehead. “Why’d you lie to me?”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Why do you think I’d worry?”
“‘Cause I’m having a bad day,” Eddie answers, shrugging, and nestles in further, like he can crawl inside Buck’s body and spread himself out along Buck’s bones, where he’s warm and wet and welcome, forever and always. “‘Cause I have a cold and everything hurts and nothing feels good except—except this. Except you.”
The tension in Eddie’s body sweeps out as quick as it came, leaving him boneless and unsecured and held in Buck’s arms, against Buck’s big chest and even bigger heart where he belongs, where he was born to be. It’s the one place that’s his and nobody else’s, ever again.
A tear falls, hot like fire, and he snuffles, wiping his face across Buck’s t-shirt.
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