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eddiebabygirldiaz · 10 months

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Hello Beloved 💙💙

1 and/or 28 for the soft prompts if it sparks joy ✨️

The soft, sultry croon of Dizzy Gillespie’s trumpet filters through the kitchen, its gentle and heartrending notes caressing the floor and cabinets and every inch of Buck’s skin.

Buck hums along as best he can, letting the vibrations settle in his bones and sweep him away, the combination of sounds turning into a collection of sparkling orange and deep maroon and rose gold inside his chest, painting his flesh with the same feeling and colors of the setting sun, whose final touches spill through the window above the sink.

He never feels more settled or peaceful than when he is here in Eddie’s kitchen, preparing food for his boys and listening to the jazz playlist he reserves solely for cooking.

Buck isn't sure why, but the syncopated rhythms, husky timbres, sharp pitch changes, and the raspy voices of jazz artists like Dizzy Gillespie, Ella Fitzgerald, and Miles Davis, always heighten the cooking experience for him. The sounds of it rattle pleasantly through the room and his veins, grounding him and allowing him to focus solely on the task at hand.

He joins in with Gillespie’s crooning, softly singing, “Swing love, sweet cadillac, comin’ for to carry me home,” repeatedly under his breath as he brings the edge of the knife down swiftly, slicing through pieces of carrot, potatoe, bell peppers, and squash in a steady, soothing rhythm.

The music carries him through each movement, weaving into his muscles like vibrating threads that tug him from place to place, his hips swaying with the beat and feet gliding across the floor as he deposits the chopped vegetables into the chicken stock simmering on the stove.

A soft laugh breaks through the music, skittering through the air, reaching out for Buck like the winding tendrils of a plant’s roots or the final rays of sunshine that kiss the horizon. It’s a sound Buck cherishes, the dips and valleys of it tattooed on his heart, held dearly in the very center of him. A sound that at times was hard won, only breaking past gritted, bloody teeth when Buck reached inside and yanked it out, but now it falls easily from lips curved in the shape of love and fondness, spilling out freely and genuinely like pure, clear water from a spring.

Buck turns around, guided by the sound of that laugh and the thread that connects him to the person it comes from.

Eddie is leaning against the frame of the entryway, arms and legs crossed, his body angled in a slant that has no right being as hypnotizing as it is. The lines of him are long and lean and strong, his legs lengthened by his position and the breadth of his shoulders wide, pulling at the seams of his white t-shirt in a way that makes Buck’s mouth go dry. He’s had his hands and teeth and lips and tongue all over every inch of those legs and shoulders, but it’s never enough.

He’ll never get enough of Eddie for as long as he lives.

Eddie looks like he’s been there for a while, comfortably settled against the wooden frame, his eyes dark and hooded, a lazy smile stretched across his face.

Buck huffs and leans back against the counter, eyes narrowing at Eddie’s form. “How long have you been standing there?”

Eddie hums and shrugs, tilting his head to the side and resting it against the frame. The corner of his lips twitch and his bottom lip pokes out a little bit, tell-tale signs that he is fighting off a smirk. “Long enough.”

“Well, you could have come in and helped me,” Buck grumbles.

That laugh flows out of Eddie again, light and breathless, not weighed down by anger or hurt. He pushes himself off of the entryway’s frame and strides over to Buck. “Sorry, babe,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all, “I just love watching you like this.”

Buck levels Eddie with an unimpressed look as he slots himself along Buck’s side, hand landing hot and heavy on Buck’s hip, thumb automatically dipping beneath the edge of Buck’s hoodie to stroke over his skin. A shiver runs through him, tiny trembles sparking in his cells beneath Eddie’s touch and spreading along his entire nervous system.

Eddie grins, wild and pleased.

Buck nudges him in the chest with his elbow. “What exactly do you love watching? Me slaving away in your kitchen? Doing my very best to provide you and your son with a hearty meal after a long day? You got a housewife kink I need to know about, Eddie?”

A sharp pinch to his hip makes Buck jump and yelp.

Brown eyes shine with mirth, a glittering darkness that is more dazzling than the night sky, as Eddie laughs bright and loud. Buck smiles because Eddie’s joy is the sweetest thing he knows, but he still slaps at Eddie’s chest in admonition. Eddie catches his hand and holds it against his chest, flesh and bone fluttering beneath their hands as his laugh dies down.

“You’re such a little shit,” Eddie says, his nose scrunching the way it does when he’s equal parts amused and exasperated. “Though, the thought of you in a little dress and dainty apron is rather compelling.”

“Mmm, yeah?” Buck steps in a little closer to Eddie wraps his arms around his shoulders, linking his hands together behind Eddie’s neck. “I’d look good in any dress, but definitely in a little one.”

Eddie’s hand slips from Buck’s hip to the small of his back, settling into the slight groove there with an intimate familiarity, his fingers curling into the fabric of Buck’s hoodie. Buck’s soul sighs in relief and sings with the first sparks of pleasure as Eddie presses against Buck’s back, exerting just enough force to pull Buck into Eddie until there’s only a few inches separating them.

“I don’t doubt it.” Eddie leans in and nudges Buck’s nose with his own, a sweet brush of skin, a kiss so serene and intimate that it makes Buck’s knees weak. “You look good in anything, baby.”

Buck slides his nose along Eddie’s then shifts his head until he’s nosing at Eddie’s cheek, giggling a little at the scratch of stubble. He kisses that beautiful curve and feels the slow smile that spreads across Eddie’s face, blooming underneath Buck’s lips like a flower coming to life on the first day of spring.

“You keep flattering me like that and I’ll go find the daintest, laciest apron I can find and wear nothing underneath. Really make those housewife dreams come true.”

Eddie huffs and shakes his head, dislodging Buck’s lips which were dragging across his cheek and jaw.

When Buck pulls away to look at Eddie, happiness is painted across his face bright and vivid, but there’s an edge of seriousness that makes Buck pause.

Eddie sighs softly and gives Buck a crooked smile. “Not housewife. But husband sounds pretty good.”

Buck’s breath hitches in his chest, the air that keeps him alive rattling around in between his heart and breastbone, fluttering around like hummingbird wings.

“W-what? Eddie, are you–”

“Not yet,” Eddie rushes to say. “But, would you–I mean, is that something you would be interested in?” A tiny grimace pulls at his face and even though awe is dripping through Buck like spiced honey, he can’t help but laugh and drop his head so that their foreheads are pressed together.

“Is that something I’m interested in?” Buck parrots back.

Eddie groans. “Shut up. I’m not great at this.”

“No, no,” Buck reassures, dropping a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs.

Eddie hums and pulls Buck into a deeper kiss, licking into Buck’s mouth quick enough to grab a taste, but not staying long. Buck whines into Eddie’s mouth as he pulls away, pushing his lip out in a small pout just to hear Eddie’s laugh, but also because he’s a little disappointed that the kiss didn’t last longer. Kissing Eddie is one of his top five favorite things to do and if he had his way, at least twenty-two hours of the day would be spent doing just that.

A sweet peck is placed upon Buck’s pouting lips as Eddie places both of his hands on Buck’s hips and moves them away from the counter, guiding them into a gentle swaying motion set to the slow rhythm of the music still playing in the background.

Buck tightens his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and shuffles along with him, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck as they dance through the kitchen.

“So that’s a yes?” Eddie asks quietly.

The sultry jazz music spilling from Buck’s phone has nothing on the lilting melody taking residence in his chest, something bright like the sun and sweet like honey and bubbly like champagne beating in his blood and marrow, all of it blending together to sing Eddie Eddie Eddie.

“Yes,” Buck murmurs against the skin of Eddie’s neck before planting a kiss there. “That is a yes to you eventually asking me to marry you.”

Eddie’s laugh is quiet this time. Buck doesn’t hear it but he feels it rumble through his own chest, a piece of Eddie’s joy sinking into him, and he hopes it weaves itself into his DNA, a part of Eddie forever held inside Buck, more beautiful than the music they are dancing to and more colorful than the sunlight bathing them in its warmth.

soft prompts

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#buddie #buddie fic #buddie ficlet #soft prompt #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #ryan writes #MUAH ILY RO

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