Ren the Ghost

a gift :D (also on ao3)

"Huh," says Buck, tilting his head. This is the fourth pair of socks that has been tragically split up in this load of laundry, its partner nowhere to be found. Tilting his head further, he furrows his brows when he finds another mismatched sock almost instantly. "Huh," he says again, scratching at his neck.

"Something wrong?" Eddie asks, sticking his head around the corner.

Buck ducks his head and morosely spills the horribile truth. "I've lost like half my socks, at this point. I don't think I have any proper pairs left."

"Right," Eddie says, and Buck's brows furrow deeper. But Eddie adds, "I've been meaning to tell you, there's a pile of your socks at my place." Then Eddie walks into the laundry room and rests his hand on the small of Buck's back, and Buck shivers, gulping way too obviously. Eddie doesn't miss it, eyelids going hodded and eyes darkening, and Buck bites his lip. "Would you like some help?" Eddie asks, and he's looking at Buck. Just looking at him, and yet it's enough to send Buck's heart into overdrive.

Stomach fluttering, Buck clears his throat. Then he clears it again. Then he ducks his head and looks at Eddie from below his eyelashes, and Eddie's gaze grows heavier still. "Sure," Buck manages to say at last, and so Eddie does, standing beside him, so close they're plastered together as they fold the laundry.

Technically, Buck supposes, Eddie's presence isn't very helpful—neither of them can concentrate much. But Buck doesn't mind, and he doesn't think Eddie does, either. Not when Eddie's looking at him like that.

"Stay over tonight?" Eddie murmurs when they're almost done, the knoeldge that Eddie needs to go back home hanging over them, and Buck's nodding before he can even think of it.

"'Course," he says, grinning, and Eddie smiles back. It's beatiful, and his touch is gentle when he grabs Buck's hand, and—

Buck can't breathe.

(He doesn't much want to.)