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david3096 · 2 months ago

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I´ll miss you too.

You can also read this on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63989875

The smell of rain, the cold drops on his skin, the light breeze, the cars that pass by them without stopping for a second, the people who look at them and only see two men carrying boxes to a small trailer without knowing what is really happening. Without even suspecting that this is one of the worst moments of his life.

The knot in the stomach, the sweat on his forehead, the urge to hug Eddie and not let go make it all that much more real, remind him that this is really happening.

“It's the last box.” Eddie takes it from his hands, sets it down in the last space and closes the trailer curtain. Then he smiles at him, but the happiness doesn't reach his eyes. “I guess this is the moment when we say goodbye.”

“Not yet, wait.” He goes to his jeep, he made sure to bake his little surprise at the station so that it would really be a surprise. He takes the two little bags, one with green ribbon, for Eddie, one with blue ribbon, for Chris. “I made triple chocolate chip cookies.” He doesn't have to say these are their favorites. When he hands them to Eddie, his hands shake slightly. “Don't eat Chris's, I'll text him to make sure they arrive safe and sound.”

“You didn't have to bother.” Eddie takes the two bags, for a few slight moments their hands brush, Eddie is cold, it's unusual. His best friend looks at the cookies as if they were gold, the most precious treasure in the world, then looks him in the eye, smiles, turns serious, smiles again, it's as if his face can't decide which emotion should remain. “I can always steal some of his cookies and tell him you made less for him, because of healthy living and stuff.” That little joke would have made Buck laugh and say something else silly.

But this time he keeps quiet, puts his hands in the pockets of his pants, watches as Eddie walks to the truck to leave the bags of cookies on the seat, leaves the door open and walks back to him.

“I'll call you when I'm there.” The silence between the two becomes much heavier, as does the rain. - And as soon as we have a few days off we'll come visit you and on vacations we can come or you can come visit us or....

“I know, it will be like you never left.” They both know that's a lie. “Besides, you won't even miss me, I'll text you all day long, you'll be sick of me.”

“That will never happen.” Eddie hugs him, it's a bit of a surprise at first, but little by little, Buck holds onto him, tries to memorize the way their bodies fit together perfectly, the smell of Eddie's lotion, of his hair gel, of how his big hands wrap around his back. He doesn't want to let go, doesn't think he's capable of it. “And I'm sorry.” Eddie breaks the embrace. “With everything that happened I did things, said things that....”

“I know.” Buck plays with his thumbs, not knowing what to do with his hands. “And I'm sorry too.” For the first time Eddie's outer façade breaks down completely, his sadness taking over his face. “I'm gonna miss you, Eddie, you don't have an idea.”

“Buck...”

“You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to tell you.” Eddie looks down, puts a hand to his forehead, if Buck didn't know him, he'd say he was crying.

“Ask me to stay.” Eddie looks up, there is a change in his attitude, in his posture, in the way his eyes seem to beg for something more.

“Eddie, you know I would never ask you to...”

“I know.” Eddie takes two steps forward, puts one hand on his own waist and with the other he ruffles his hair. “And, don't get me wrong, I won't stay, right now I can't stay but...” Eddie puts a hand on Buck's shoulder. “Ask me, Buck, please.”

“Please stay.” Buck's voice is much more pleading than expected, Eddie's eyes light up in a way he couldn't describe, Eddie hugs him, tightly, as if this time he doesn't want to leave.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Eddie?” He whispers in his ear, hugs him tightly too, wants to take advantage of every second, wants his warmth to stay by his side, to infect his insides and never leave him.

“Fuck, Buck.” Eddie pulls away a little, just enough to look him in the eye, but he's still holding him tight. To his surprise, Eddie brings their foreheads together, they both close their eyes and for a few moments, he truly believes Eddie will kiss him. “I don't want to leave, I really don't want to leave.”

“Eddie…” Buck opens his eyes, separates his face to get a good look at his best friend, there is sadness, despair, but there is also something different, a light he had not seen before.

“Shit, Buck.” Eddie runs both hands through Buck's hair, leaves them on his chin. “I think... I think I'm in love with you.” Eddie's voice sounds rough, as if the words, as if the realization of this, has stolen all his energy. “Why am I only realizing this now? Why couldn't I have realized it before I planned the move? Why...?”

“I'm in love with you too.” Words are so much easier to say than he imagined. It's the only thing that stops Eddie from talking, the sea of emotions on his face becomes much harder to decipher. “And I don't want you to leave either Eddie, I want you to stay here with me. But I would never ask you to, not really. I know Chris comes first.”

“I'm sorry.” Eddie hugs him once more, the two of them using almost all their strength, they don't want to let go, not when they both feel the same, not when this could change their lives forever, not when this could mean finally finding the love of their life.

Once again, Eddie is the one who breaks the embrace, but this time, before letting go completely, he gives Buck a small kiss on the cheek. He walks to the truck, Buck doing his best not to cry, not to break down now.

Before he gets in, Eddie turns, looks into his face, his eyes crystalline, the infinite sadness between them.

“I'll miss you too.”

Eddie climbs into the truck and drives off, without looking back.

And he's gone.

Buck stands there, in the rain, staring at the space in the street where Eddie used to be, the warmth of his lips still on his cheek, with his heart broken and with the stupid feeling that this is the end.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie díaz #911 #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #my writing

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david3096 · 3 months ago

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With love, your secret admirer

Hey! I posted a new Insomnicac Parksborn fic!

You can read it on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63091021

Here's a little preview

“Who the fuck is that stupid?” Harry tries not to get mad at the guy on the screen and tries not to get mad at himself for choosing that horror movie. It's a classic serial killer with a mask story, he thought it was just what they needed to have some fun for a while to wrap up the day they've had today, but Peter doesn't seem to be paying attention, neither to the TV nor to Harry.

In the morning they met in the park near May's house, Harry invited him to a coffee shop for breakfast, it started to snow while they were getting ready to go for a walk around the city, so they decided to go to Harry's house to spend the afternoon playing video games, watching movies, eating junk food, anything that would distract them from the fact that it's Sunday and tomorrow they have to go back to school.

Plus, Harry took advantage of the fact that his dad would probably be busy all Sunday, so he could spend more time alone with Pete.

But now, as he has Peter's head lying on his lap and strokes his hair, while his best friend ignores him, he doesn't know if it was the best decision.

“I mean.” Harry continues, hoping Peter will look at him or make some noise showing something, anything. There is no response. “Who with any sense of reason gets death threats, sees two of his best friends murdered in three separate chases, and decides that upon arriving home to find his door open, stuff lying in the driveway, blood stains all over the wall and stairs, and a note saying Come to your room decides to do what the note says? In my opinion that kid deserves to die.” He tries to get Peter to scold him or laugh at the absurdity of his complaints but it's like he's isolated in his own world. “Pete?”

“Huh?” Finally Peter turns so he can look him in the eye. Damn, he wants to kiss him but he knows he shouldn't, that he can't ruin the best friendship he's ever had in his life.

“Okay, what's going on with you?” He tries to sound angry, but he hears the concern in his voice. He pauses the movie just as the killer stabs the protagonist. “You're never this quiet, right about now you'd be criticizing the movie with me or you'd be too scared asking me to hug you.” And maybe that's the reason Harry chose a horror movie. Maybe.

“Sorry.”

“Just tell me what's wrong.” He strokes Pete's hair, it's something he loves to do and his friend seems to enjoy it. He doesn't remember when he first dared to do this, but he's glad for it. “You're only quiet when you're worried about something or uncomfortable. And I choose to believe that you're not uncomfortable with me, look at you.” That makes Peter finally laugh, the atmosphere in the room feels a little less heavy. Peter puts both hands on his belly, starts playing with his thumbs and suddenly dodges his gaze.

“Yesterday I was chatting with MJ. And then with May.”

“You're not thinking of getting married, are you? We're seventeen.”

“What? No!” Pete looks genuinely offended, but at least he looks at him again. “Let me speak!”

“I'm sorry.”

“Well, I was talking to both of you and I don't want this to sound like I'm talking about you behind your back but, well, I was telling them about our plan today and that I was worried that between homework and work, I hadn't had time to see you outside of school hours in two weeks, plus winter break and all that.”

“Okay?”

“MJ made a joke that you might have found yourself a boyfriend to hang out with for fun.”

“You know that's not true. I tell you everything.” Well, except for one big detail that could ruin their friendship forever.

“That's right! But that got me thinking about, well, we never talked about your love life.”

“There should be a love life first to talk about it.”

“But don't you like someone? A boy from school, the son of one of the Oscorp scientists or one of your father's millionaire sons. Or that Michael guy, the twenty-five-year-old millionaire, he's cute.”

“If Michael liked me there would be a problem.”

“That's not the point! When you were a kid, weren't you ever attracted to someone older? When I was in preschool I had a crush on my teacher, Nataly. And of course that would never happen because she was a nice person, that's not the point now. Harry, you don't date boys, you don't talk to me about boys, you don't look at boys…” There is a pause that he considers too dramatic. “I'm your best friend, right?”

“What does either have to do with the other?” But his heart races for a few seconds.

“If I'm actually supposed to be your best friend, why don't you tell me any of this?” The reason is obvious, what is he supposed to say? I'm sorry Pete, I've never told you about the guy I'm in love with because it's you, do you want me to tell you about your nice hair, how much I love the way you smell and how I fantasize about your ass at night? That would definitely end their friendship.

“So which worries you more, that I don't have the ability to talk to guys or that I do and won't tell you?”

“Don't change the subject.”

“Pete.”

“Seriously, Harry, I'm worried about both. But I'm more worried about you not being happy, I want you to find the boy of your dreams.” He sighs, still stroking Peter's hair, reconsiders his chances. What if he tells him now, what could go wrong? Everything, really. He could be left alone, be exiled again like when he was seven and no one really wanted to be his friend. Pete could hate him forever, walk away from his life and never want to hear from him again. No, he knows that's not true, He knows Pete, he's the kind of guy who would do anything to keep their friendship going, even feel flattered, help him get a boyfriend. That's the problem, isn't it? He's not ready to let go of all the love he feels for Peter yet.

“You're my best friend, don't doubt that.”

“But...”

“Now let me do the talking.” Peter smiles, folds his arms but remains silent. “As I was saying, you're my best friend, never doubt that. There's no one in the world I trust more than you. But seriously Pete, I'm not in love with anyone.”

Peter opens his eyes wide, straightens up with startling speed and soon has his face too close.

“Say that again.”

“That I'm not in love with anyone?” Pete nods. “I'm not in love with anyone, Pete.”

“You're lying!”

“What? How did you... I mean, why would you say that?” Damn it, damn it, damn it.

“When you're nervous, your lower right lip quivers, right at the corner. And you twitch your nose slightly.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

“I'm not in love with anyone, Pete." He focuses his attention on those two parts of his body, damn it, they moved.” That doesn't prove anything!

“Say something we both know is a lie.”

“Gravity doesn't exist.”

“No, not those kinds of lies.” Peter laughs. “Tell me something we've done that no one else knows about.”

“A year ago we stole Flash's backpack and dipped it in the pot of nasty stew in the cafeteria.” His lip twitches, his ear does too.

“You wiggle your ears too and you're blinking a lot. That means you're nervous.”

“Since when did you become some kind of body language expert?” He is not sure what to do with himself, Peter finally moves away, crosses both legs and sits on them, so he's cool with the conversation. Damn, Harry does this too. But at least he doesn't tell Peter.

“None of that, this only works on you. I know you better than I know myself. Most of the time. That's why...” Peter looks away. “That's why I haven't been able to stop thinking about how you never tell me about your love life since yesterday. It's frustrating.”

“Pete I…” Harry sighs. “Okay, ask me anything you want.”

“Who do you like? Is it someone from school?”

“It's not someone from school.” Again he notices his stupid lip quivering. “Okay, okay, it's someone from school.” He says, before Peter calls him a liar again. “But nothing will ever happen between me and him. He has a girlfriend, that's already a problem. Besides, there's no proof that he could be gay.”

“Bisexuals exist, you know?”

“I know, I know. But I'd rather think that, you know? To think that he's bisexual and he's still not attracted to me would be much more devastating than knowing that he just doesn't like guys that way.”

“Well, let's put that aside.” Peter smiles at him, trying to make him happy. “Have you made out with any boys? Have you had boyfriends?”

“Yes and no.”

“Come on Harry, tell me the details.” Peter says enthusiastically, but there's something in his eyes, something he has never seen before, it's like a combination of anger and sadness. Maybe he's just projecting his own emotions.

“There's not much to tell. I've made out with a few guys a few times. I don't remember the name of most of them to be honest, but I do remember the place. My first kiss was at eight on the playground in elementary school. I don't remember the boy's name but it was kind of sweet, we just gave each other that kiss and pretended nothing happened. Then at twelve, before we met I went to a science summer my dad made me go to. I made out with a guy named John, he had a horrendous personality but he was a great kisser. Then nothing happened for a long time, until two years ago, I made out with the son of one of my dad's business partners at a birthday dinner. That was a little more, intense.”

“Intense in what way?” Pete looks at him curiously.

“Well, at the party it was just that, but we kept seeing each other on and off during the summer. And after about four or five times that we saw each other, well, you know I'm always alone here and... are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“I had sex with him for the first time.” Peter's face flushes. “I thought for a while he wanted something more with me, but apparently it was all horniness and sex for him. We stopped seeing each other when his father sent him to study in France, sometimes he sends me messages but I erase them. I remember his name but I don't want to say it out loud.” It's not that he hates or cares for him or anything, but he always feels a knot in his stomach when he remembers that his first time was much less romantic than he expected. It was pleasurable, but at fifteen he expected a little more magic. No, he hoped it would be with Pete. “And two months ago at the New Year's party I made out with Tom, the son of Dad's new partner, it was a simple, midnight kiss and that was it. And well, that's all the guys I've kissed.” He scratches the back of his neck and then his neck, he really feels uncomfortable, exposed.

“So...” Pete is silent, seeming to restructure the question in his head a million times. “What would the guy of your dreams be like?”

“There's no such thing Pete.” If Peter notices his lip moving or his nose twitching or blinking excessively, he doesn't mention it to you. “Why do you want to know that?”

“I don't know, sounds like the right question to ask when the guy you like isn't available and the guys you've been with aren't that into you. I think it's right to ask about the guy of your dreams. Or more to the point, what characteristics would you like a guy to have to make you fall in love with him and want him to be your boyfriend?”

“Why do I feel that was a way of telling me that I'm too picky?” Peter laughs.

“Because it's true. I don't think you realize all the guys who are in love with you.”

“There are no boys...”

“Let's change the subject, Harold. Talk about the boy of your dreams. The perfect guy for you who will make you want to get married and give him the Osborn name. We both know your dad would kill you both if you tried to take your future husband's last name.” For a few moments the thought of all this becomes unbearable, the thought of a future where you will love a man other than Peter. But then, for some strange reason that he fails to understand, it becomes funny. And he thinks that maybe this will be the best way to tell Pete that he's in love with him without telling him that he's in love with him.

“Well, I...”

“Harry!? Are you home?!?” His father's voice is heard from the doorway.

“Shit, I thought he'd be home till later.” Harry mutters. “I'm with Pete in my room!”

They can hear their father's quick footsteps, he opens the door without knocking, as if he expects to find a crime scene or something.

“Hey guys, how are you?” His father inspects the room, as if looking for some detail that they are using drugs or something illegal.

“Very well Mr. Osborn.”

“Peter, we've been over this, call me Norman.”

“Can I call you Norman too?” Harry asks sarcastically.

“Only if you want to be grounded for six months.” His father replies in the same tone. “Are you staying for dinner, Peter? I was thinking of ordering some Chinese food for Harry and me, I didn't know you'd be here.”

“No need to...”

“Pete.” Harry looks at him and puts a hand on his arm. “Okay, I'll stay for dinner.” His father looks at them carefully, it's as if he's paused.

“Uh, yeah, I'll call you guys when dinner is ready.” His father starts to walk away. “You know the rule, Harry, when Peter is here, your bedroom door stays open.”

“Since when did that rule exist?” Peter whispers.

“I don't know, Dad swears it's always existed.” Harry stands up and closes the door very carefully, his father doesn't seem to notice. “So, as I was saying...”

“Wait, come here.” Peter settles on the couch and offers him his legs to lay his head down, even though every logical part of his body tells him he shouldn't do that, he does. “Now tell me about it.” Peter starts stroking his hair, it's something he's never done before and he must admit it feels wonderful.

“You know physique is not something I care about.”

“But it's fun to imagine, what would your perfect boyfriend be like?”

“Well, a guy with a cute face.” That's vague enough that Pete doesn't realize he's talking about him. “Skinny or not, but I'd like him to be a little bit shorter than me.”

“To feel superior?”

“No, to make the kissing more intense.”

“Oh.” He can swear Pete's cheeks are flushing again. “That sounds like fun.”

“It is.” Harry laughs. “And I wish my future boyfriend had a butt like Spider-Man.”

“What?” Peter laughs.

“Have you seen that ass on the news? I don't have anything appropriate to say and I guess even though you're my best friend you don't want to hear what Spider-Man's ass is doing to me.” Peter laughs.

“Okay, let's talk about something else. Other characteristics this perfect boyfriend would have, besides a nice butt.”

“I don't know.” He closes his eyes and thinks about Peter. “I'd like to be able to make that guy laugh, that he finds me funny and has a sense of humor too, you know? Make him blush when I say silly nonsense and have him kiss me. Someone I could talk to for hours on any topic, go out to eat or to the park or play video games or whatever. To trust that someone and have him understand that I'm a guy full of contradictions that sometimes even I don't understand... I guess, I guess what I'm trying to say is that what I would like most would be to find a guy who sees how weird and complicated and contradictory I am and he says Yeah, that's the one I just want to love and be able to see him and say the same thing. I just want to love and be loved.”

He doesn't open his eyes, he doesn't know what the hell he might be facing, but the silence feels deafening. Peter's hand in his hair soothes him.

They're still silent, just listening to their breaths, he wonders what the hell Peter is thinking.

“That sounds nice.” That's what he ends up saying and they both start laughing.

“Really, Parker? You force me to open my heart and the best you can tell me is that it sounds nice? I hate you.” But he says it laughing, he opens his eyes, Pete is blushing, probably embarrassed that he doesn't know what to say. He decides to start tickling the sides of his body, they start laughing a lot louder.

“I'm sorry! I didn't know what else to say!”

“I would have felt better if you told me I sounded pathetic!” He keeps tickling him, they keep laughing and this whole conversation stops feeling so heavy, so final.

“Just for the record.” Peter clears his throat. “It's not pathetic. I think finding someone like that is the best thing that could ever happen to you. I think I've already found that someone.”

“Have you?” A weight he doesn't know how to define settles in his stomach. “I'm happy for you, Pete.”

“I still don't know if it's fully reciprocated.”

“I'm sure MJ feels the same way about you.” Peter is silent, then smiles.

“We'll see.” And once again he's back to feeling the same way he always does, in love with his best friend with the horrible weight in his stomach reminding him that it will never be possible.

“Do you want to finish watching the movie?”

“I don't even know what it's about.” Peter laughs. “Just one more question and I promise I'll drop the subject, for today at least.”

“Okay, ask anything you want.”

“Let's say you're in love with your perfect guy with the Spider-Man butt and you suspect he's in love with you too, what would you do about it?”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn't do anything.”

“What? Why?”

“Pete, I'm an Osborn. Never mind my suspicions, I'd need to be 100% sure he feels the same way I do before I'd subject myself to public humiliation.”

“But...”

“Guys! Dinner's here!”

“Come on!” Harry quickly gets up and takes Pete by the hand, for the first time in his life he'd rather endure a dinner with his father's awkward questions than Peter's.

#harry osborn #peter parker #insomniac harry osborn #insomniac peter parker #parksborn #marvel's spider man 2 #insomniac spider man #insomniac parksborn #fanfic #my writing

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