#especially if it's to force buck and eddie to live in the same space | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lemonzestywrites · 3 years

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sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

paring: buck x eddie

word count: 2,268

tw: panic attacks, implied claustrophobia

[ao3 link]

_____

Buck has never been a fan of the dark. Especially as a child, the thought alone had brought along too many nightmares and memories of running to Maddie’s room to make her double-check for monsters under his bed. It doesn’t bother him as much anymore, but still, every now and again, on nights where his anxiety is all too present for his liking, the same twinge of uneasiness will find itself scratching away at his brain.

He hasn’t felt it in a while, but that itch has been sitting at the base of his subconscious since he’s clocked in for his shift, and now Buck can’t help but be on edge. He tries his best to ignore it and go on with his day, but the next 12 hours tick by with a foreboding weariness he can’t quite place.

The hospital only makes it worse. The plain white walls, the PA system going off every other minute, the frigid cold that sticks to his skin, he hates all of it. There’s a small voice in the back of his head that wonders if it’s just the result of having been admitted so many times. It doesn’t feel like all too sure of reasoning, but he’d rather not linger on the thought too long. So instead, Buck settles for it and chalks it up to nerves, making a mental note to bring it up during his next session with Dr. Copeland. Until then, he should be fine.

Emphasis on should.

Because apparently, the universe gets a real kick out of watching Buck suffer since it wasn’t enough that the hospital’s power went out- no, the entire fucking city got hit with a widespread blackout. And if that wasn’t worrying enough, Eddie hasn’t been answering his radio, and Buck’s phone isn’t working either. He does his best to stay calm, really he does, but with every passing minute of radio silence, the sick coil of nerves knotted in his stomach only gets tighter and tighter.

After 10 minutes of no response, Bobby had given Buck the go-ahead to go look for Eddie, and that’s all he needed before he’s off, weaving through the halls of the hospital heading to where he’d seen him last. If it weren’t for whatever shred of self-control in him, Buck would probably be sprinting through the building by now.

Eddie’s been back to work for only about a couple weeks now. And he’s doing great (obviously, he wouldn’t have gotten cleared to go back if he wasn’t). Buck is happy for him- happy that his best friend is back. God knows the last couple of months had been rough without Eddie, he had spent the last couple of years carving out and filling a special place in the station especially reserved for him, and then all of a sudden, it had been vacant again.

Buck is excited that he’s working again, really he is. But now the energy between them feels…different, and he knows why- they both do. It’s not like Buck had expected them to come back completely fine either. But even months after the shooting, they still have yet to talk about any of it. A part of him feels like they should, but in the months he stayed over at Eddie’s, helping out however he could during his recovery, Buck could see the toll everything had taken on him, both physically and mentally. Eddie didn’t seem ready to unpack that with him yet, and Buck wasn’t going to push him.

It’s fine. He knows Eddie has been going back to therapy. They’ll talk whenever he’s ready.

Buck does his best to give Eddie his space, let him, you know, do his job, but the past weeks feel like he’s been doing nothing but living on the edge. Every time Eddie’s out of his sight for too long, he can hear a voice screaming at him, ‘Where is he? Is he okay? Find him. Protect him. Find him. You said you’d have his back. Your fault. Your fault. Your fa-’

Then Eddie will turn the corner, and Buck’s lungs will release a breath he hadn’t known he was holding on to. He hopes it’ll take the fear, too, that with every sigh won’t just be a release of pressure but help let go of the irrational worry he has. But it never does. It eats away at him, taunting him with the idea that Eddie might get hurt again, but this time Buck won’t be there to help him.

(God, they really should talk.)

He still doesn’t bring it up. Instead, Buck sets aside his apprehension and tries not to indulge in the panicked voice in his subconscious. He’s been getting better at it.

At least he was.

All it took was 15- no, 16 minutes now- of radio silence for Buck’s heart to start pounding against his chest in rapid succession. For the nervousness to shoot through his veins, thrumming all the way down to the tips of fingers as they twitch with a numbing unease. He treads through the halls keeping his head on a swivel, alert and attentive to trying to find his best friend in the sea of patients and doctors. Eddie’s probably somewhere in the hospital helping out the staff; he is a medic after all. Yet despite any amount of reasoning Buck tries to apply, the sickening feeling in his stomach doesn’t seem to dissipate. It’s been 16 minutes, and he hasn’t had any luck. He’s even circled the floor twice just to be sure, but still, nothing.

He’s considering doing another lap when he hears it- the distant noise of someone banging on metal coming from behind the elevator doors. The sound is so faint, paired with the loud frenzy of the rest of the hospital floor, that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

He rushes to the doors, pressing his ear flushed against it. He can hear someone yelling, but the voice is too muffled to make out what they’re saying.

“Eddie?” He calls out, no doubt getting a couple odd looks from the passing medical staff, but he pays them no mind. He bangs on the doors a couple times before yelling again louder, “Eddie! It’s Buck- can you hear me?”

There’s a beat of silence before the pounding continues again, this time with much more force in response. Buck doesn’t waste any time before he digs his fingers between the doors, using everything he has to pry them apart. The muscles in his shoulders and arms strain, but the creaking of metal offers enough motive to keep him going. Even if it’s not Eddie, it still means someone’s trapped down there.

(A selfish part of him still hopes, though.)

Once the doors are opened wide enough for him, Buck drops to his stomach to peer down into the elevator currently caught between two floors. Even with the little light he does have, he sees a curled-up shadow crouched in the corner below him, “Eddie?”

The person shifts, “Buck?”

There’s nothing more Buck wants than to revel in the relief he feels when he finally hears Eddie’s voice, but it quickly scatters when he notices the trembling panic coated in his tone.

“It’s me,” Buck reassures with as much steadiness he can force out and just hopes that Eddie doesn’t hear the way his voice shakes out the words. “Are you okay?”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. I-I can’t breathe.”

Buck’s mind starts to spin, panicking on what to do now. The gap in between the doors isn’t that big, so it’s not like he can slip down there with Eddie or pull him out either. He has enough sensibility to grab at his radio to at least let Bobby aware of his status, “Cap, I found Eddie. He’s trapped in an elevator stuck between the 7th and 6th floors.”

A few seconds pass before he hears Bobby’s voice on the other end, “Okay, we’re working on getting the hospital’s backup generator working. Stay with him until we can get it back online, then we’ll head up to you.”

Eddie lets out a strangled noise at his words. The twinge of panic in Buck’s stomach only coils tighter when he realizes how Eddie’s breathing seems to pick up, now coming out in quick hallow shivers.

‘He’s having a panic attack.’ Buck realizes.

It takes less than a couple seconds after for Buck to murmur a hasty “copy that” into his radio before he readjusts his focus back to his friend.

He’s not unfamiliar with panic attacks, his or Eddie’s, most of which being the results of nightmares that seem to linger when dusk settles. During the last few months, Buck has lost count of the nights that either one of them has woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, and in the midst of alarm and fear, craving a recognizable magnetism of being held. A silent want to be assured protection and comforted.

It’s sick now. How there’s nothing more Buck desires than to provide that same security now, but the small two-foot gap between the elevator doors draws out to what feels like miles of distance.

Even though he can’t crawl down there with him, Buck finds himself reaching into the elevator shaft as far as he can, “Eddie, can you grab onto my hand for me?” Listen- he knows what he’s doing isn’t entirely safe, sticking his arm into an elevator that hasn’t been secure yet. But the sound of Eddie’s breath coming out in nothing but shaky huffs is more than enough to make him forgo any logic.

From within the enclosure of the elevator, he feels Eddie grasp his hand with an iron grip, the distress trembling at his fingers.

“Hey, I’m here, I’m right here, alright?” Buck presses the conviction through his tone, his best attempt to override his own uncertainty. “Do you think you can try and take some deep breaths?”

Buck can faintly make out the silhouette of Eddie nodding, “Y-Yeah,” he mutters. “Yeah, I can try.”

“We can do them together,” Buck offers. He takes a deep breath himself, and from below him, he hears Eddie take one too. Unconsciously, Buck starts to tighten his hold in tandem with their breathing, squeezing his hand on an inhale, loosening his grasp on the exhale. He hadn’t really realized he’s doing it until after a couple breaths, Eddie starts doing it too. And with each squeeze, his grasp slowly becomes more determined and less shaky. It doesn’t take long for them to eventually sync up for the tremor in Eddie’s hands to fade.

A couple more moments pass, and his breathing begins to steady more.

“How you doing down there, Eds?”

“Can you…”, he clears his throat, an attempt to hide how wrecked he sounds. “Can you talk to me?- About anything, it doesn’t matter.”

Buck rattles his brain for something, anything to talk about before he remembers the nature documentary he had watched several nights prior, “Did you know toucans are born blind?”

He hears Eddie laugh; it comes out breathless and nervous, but it’s a laugh nonetheless, “Really?”

“Yeah, ironically enough, they also aren’t great at flying either. They usually hop from one branch to another to get where they want to go.”

“Tell me more?” He asks, his voice quiet.

Buck smiles and keeps going, rambling about birds for a while. He doesn’t really know for how long, and at some point, he loses his awareness of what he’s saying, more focused on Eddie than anything else. Faintly, he wonders if his arm is getting tired by now.

“You know, Chris has been learning about biomes and ecosystems in school…he’d love to hear all this stuff.”

“You can tell him all about it after work.” He reassures.

Eddie’s hand twitches in his palm. “How much longer?” Buck can hear the dread creeping back into his tone.

“I…”

Not too long. He wants to promise, but the words get caught in his throat. There are a lot of things Buck can do- lying to Eddie isn’t one of them. “I-I don’t know.” He finally admits, the shame dripping down from him. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Eddie laughs, yet this time there’s no shred of humor in his voice, “I’m not sure if I can last any longer down here, Buck.” God, he sounds on the verge of tears.

“What can I do?” Fuck, at this point, Buck would do anything. Hell, he’d pull the damn elevator up himself if he had to. Whatever it would take to get Eddie back on safe ground.

“Just-” A pained noise escapes him, “Please don’t leave.”

Buck swears his heart fucking shatters. “Hey.” Even though he can’t see exactly where Eddie is, he does his best to look him in the eye before he squeezes his hand, “I’m not leaving your side, okay?”

The first thing Buck’s fire instructor had said during his training at the academy was never make a promise you can’t keep. Buck knows how important promises are to people, especially in states of emergencies. In the middle of chaos, those two words are all anyone needs to cling to. So that’s why, when Eddie looks at him, with what little light there is provided catching the edges of his watery eyes laced in fear and worry, Buck doesn’t hesitate to grip his hand as tight as he can. To hold on and look at Eddie with all the conviction and certainty he has and tell him,

“I promise.”

#hi there! i hope you enjoyed this fic!#zestywrites #911 #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie

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wackybuddiemewbs · 3 years

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Buddie Moodboard - Star Wars AU

Yep, because why??? I mean, why not??? As if I needed any more reason beside the aesthetic of both of them wearing those gun holsters, shooting lasers, and kicking ass in space!

History seems to be bound to repeat itself. Many years passed since the Battle of Exegol with the Resistance gaining victory over the First Order. Years of peace followed, and it seemed like the balance in the galaxy was at last restored.

However, ongoing conflicts among political parties and factions still divided by a gruesome past gave rise to what soon became known as the Liberation Army. Under the pretense of bringing freedom and prosperity to the people who suffered most during the war, the Liberation Army seeks to overturn the newly formed government and establish themselves as a stratocracy.

While the Liberation Army runs its program under the guise of granting power to the people to overthrow a government incapable of taking care of its citizens due to the political spiel, it is very much a First Order reborn. Nonetheless, people suffering plight under the ongoing political chaos are easy targets for the Liberation Army to gather a huge following.

The New Resistance formed in an effort to reveal the evil machinations of the Liberation Army and free the galaxy of an organization that proclaims to want the same thing, though it is certainly not liberating the people.

Commander Evan "Buck" Buckley and his crew managed to infiltrate one of the Liberation Army's ships in a covert operation to gain information on the Army's next move.

Back at the secret base to deliver the intel they were able to steal from the ship, Buck is happily reunited with his team and found family, especially Eddie and Christopher.

It was tough enough going without his partner having his back, but General Nash had the rights of it by making Eddie sit this mission out. Or as Buck will insist:

"The guy's a terrible actor! We would've gotten shot down one minute in! And how am I supposed to explain that to Chris?"

Buck and Eddie met years ago while both were still cadets at the newly formed Intergalactic Military Academy. While Eddie pursued his dream of becoming a pilot, Buck trained to join the naval forces. A quick rivalry soon grew to be friendship, and out of that love emerged. The two agreed that they'd complete training at the same time to join or form their own fleet, made up of different kinds of specialized fighters.

Their dream didn't come to fruition, though. Mismanagement and accusations of corruption led to the shutdown of the Academy. As a result, Buck and Eddie sought a simpler life together, alongside Eddie's son Christopher.

The peace was short-lived, however. By the time they found a place to settle, the Liberation Army made its presence known in the galaxy and started to "recruit". They had to watch helplessly as their new house got looted by people in town, turned against them by members of the Liberation Army. They spread lies about Buck and Eddie being in cahoots with corrupt government officials sent to spy on the people - and the people believed them.

The three had to flee before they could ever actually build a home for themselves. Soon thereafter, the New Resistance formed, and the two signed up almost immediately. Buck and Eddie found a great family among their fellow fighters, and together, they dare to hope to win the battle against the Liberation Army.

Upon receiving the intel Buck and his team gathered while aboard the Army's ship, General Nash devises a plan to stop the Liberation Army's strike against a weakened senate to overthrow the government and let militaristic rule take a hold of the galaxy again.

To say that the plan is daring is likely an understatement, so daring in fact that even Buck seems impressed by it. The now already infamous division called "118" is tasked to run the operation, with General Nash himself at the helm.

As tough as it is to bid farewell to Christopher again so very soon, Buck and Eddie know that it is the only way to build a future not just for the boy who is the entirety of their universe but that of everyone else as well.

Thus, the 118 embark on a most dangerous quest in a last effort to stop liberate the galaxy of the Liberation Army, so hope can begin again...

Find more moodboards here.

#buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #buddie au #buddie moodboard #moodboard #911 fox #fanfic #in smol

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ailelie · 3 years

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#74 (substitute) - in this house

Technically, #74 on my list is 'dream yourself awake' but given that my only plot bunny for that song was writing about Maddie getting abused and deciding to leave Doug, I am choosing a different song by the same artist (San Fermin) and from the same EP.

In this house All I have is yours to give In this house You never have to leave [...] And oh my god I could fall in love with you Oh my god Tell me what I have to do To fall in love with you

He had a toothbrush. It lived under the sink, but whenever he stayed over Eddie or Christopher pulled it out and dropped it in the cup by the sink with their brushes, like he belonged.

"You okay?" Eddie stopped by the open door of the bathroom. He was carrying a blanket and pillow for the couch. It was a good pillow, too; Buck had picked it out himself after complaining about using the throw pillows to sleep.

Buck shook his head and offered a grin. "I'm good. We've really got the whole me-staying-here thing down, don't we?"

"I guess?"

"I mean, think about it, I've got a toothbrush, a pillow, clothes--everything I need to stay the night."

Eddie shrugged. "You're welcome here."

"I know that. I guess, it just hit me."

"Okay," Eddie said, placatingly, "I'm going to go make up the couch for you."

"Thanks." Buck grabbed his toothbrush and wet it. He stared at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, unable to pin down what exactly he was feeling. After he spit and rinsed out his mouth and brush, he went to the living room where Eddie had spread out the blanket and puffed up the pillow. The couch was nowhere near as comfortable as his own bed, but for a moment, Buck couldn't imagine anything more inviting.

Eddie hovered by the couch. "Chris will probably wake you up first thing. You don't--"

"I know, Eds. And I don't mind making breakfast."

Eddie nodded. "Thanks. Good night, then." He turned to leave.

"Why do you make it so easy for me to stay?" Buck asked all in a rush.

Eddie looked back, his expression fond. "Because you should stay more often. We like spending time with you."

The sincerity was too much. Buck forced a smile. "Your couch isn't that comfortable," he joked.

"Is that what's stopping you?" Eddie asked. He grabbed the pillow off the couch. "Come on then." He left the room.

"Wait, what?" Buck strode to catch up with him.

Eddie led the way up to his bedroom. He set the pillow down on the right side of the bed. He crossed his arms and looked at Buck.

"I'm not kicking you out of bed," Buck protested.

"I think we can manage to share."

Buck looked between Eddie and the bed. "Why?" he asked.

"Because we, I want you to stay," Eddie said with a shrug. "Make this, us, home, too."

A million thoughts swirled through Buck's head, but Eddie's steady gaze kept him from drowning. "Okay," he said.

Eddie smiled. "Come on. Let's get to bed."

Buck slipped into the bed with Eddie less than an arm stretch away. He wondered how long he could keep this, not realizing he'd spoken aloud until Eddie turned over in the bed and said, "As long as you want."

"What if I never go away?"

"I'll clear some closet space."

Buck scoffed. "Be serious."

Eddie reached out and touched Buck's hand. "I am. You're wanted, okay? Chris and I? We're not going to get tired of you."

"What if I end up wanting more than you can give?"

"Impossible."

Buck narrowed his eyes at the challenge. "What if I said I wanted to kiss you?"

Eddie pushed up on his elbow. "Do you?"

Buck blushed, somehow he hadn't expected that question. "I don't know. I wonder sometimes, especially when people say shit mistaking us being together."

"You think about kissing me." Eddie looked pleased.

"And you've never thought about me?" Buck shot back.

Eddie shrugged one shoulder. "I don't really think about kissing people, but I think I could enjoy kissing you. Now that I'm thinking about it." A beat passed and Eddie settled back down on his pillow. "That's settled then. There's nothing you can ask that's too much."

"This can't just be about me. What do you want?"

"Stay."

Buck swallowed. "What if I said I wanted to kiss you now?"

Eddie moved until he was sharing Buck's pillow. His breath was warm against Buck's lips. "I'd say, what are you waiting for?"

Buck pushed forward, pressing their lips together. He tangled his fingers in Eddie's hair. Eddie's hand splayed across his shoulder, firm and stable. His lips were soft. His mouth was hot. Buck broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against Eddie's

"I'll stay," he said.

Eddie smiled, small and pleased, and kissed him again.

#911 fic #buddie #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz

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stydiaeverafter · 3 years

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One Bed, Two Hearts, Three Nights

Summary: Buck and Eddie share more than just a bed in Texas; they share their feelings.

It's been a while since I've written for our boys! I've missed them. With the new season starting and all the new content for the 911 Crossover and Buck Begins, I've been feeling inspired. @reachgirl made a post about a bed sharing fic idea, and being a person who loves this particular trope, I was happy to oblige. This fic will have 3 parts. I hope you enjoy the first chapter! Xo.

Read on ao3

***

Chapter One: 1st Night —

Buck was beyond exhausted as the 118 finally made their way to a small motel close to the wildfire.

As Bobby went up to the counter, talking to the lady at the front desk, Buck couldn't help but take in his best friend.

How could someone manage to still look so damn good after a day of putting out fires? That was the thing, though; he always did.

Buck couldn't help the thoughts that were popping into his mind, any more than the feelings that had risen.

He concluded that he had fallen for his best friend years ago. When exactly, he wasn't sure. But there they were, and he wasn't sure what to do with them.

Buck had started noticing when they had spent time together quarantining. During a dark time of the unknown, Buck had found comfort in staying with Eddie and Christopher. It felt so natural being together as if a light bulb went off in his brain, screaming, this is what you've been waiting for!

They had cooked together, watch movies together, fallen asleep near each other on the couch, and shared lingering glances, to the point where Buck started to question if Eddie was feeling the same way as he was.

Buck and Eddie hardly talked about romance, especially after Abby and Shannon. They kept to themselves about all that. That wasn't what their friendship was based around. So Buck wasn't even sure if Eddie could ever see him in that way. Hell, he had been surprised himself. Growing up, he knew he was bisexual, but he hid it away. His father wasn't an accepting man for anything different from the norm he wanted to display—the perfect family image. So Buck, unfortunately, had suppressed that part of him deep down underneath everything that made him, him.

It was only when being around Eddie that that part of him was revealed once more.

The two of them had always been tighter than tight, but this felt different somehow, and spending endless time with Christopher? A huge bonus. He loved that kid more than life itself.

One night when they had been playing Monopoly, Christopher had accidentally called Buck dad. Eddie had looked startled but not as surprised as Buck had felt in that moment. But the feeling brought a sense of ease that all was right in the world. It felt natural and right, something Buck had dreamed about for most of his life. He could still remember Eddie's expression as his astonishment had shifted into what seemed like happiness at Christopher's following giggle.

Buck also recalled a particular evening when it had been stormy, and the power had gone out. Eddie had lit candles around the house, and the two of them shared a couple of drinks as they chatted in the darkness. At one point, their fingers had touched, and they held each other's gaze for what felt like a lifetime. Eddie had seemed to want to say something to him, just like he had wanted to express to Eddie how he was feeling, but Christopher had gotten scared from the thunder and interrupted them. Eddie, being the amazing father he was, had stopped everything so he could be there for his son.

Buck had to love him for it.

They hadn't finished the conversation in the days to come, because then Cap had said they could return to their homes. Buck, of course, had been disappointed, but he didn't want to overstay his welcome, especially because Chimney was asking to stay with him, wanting to make sure Maddie and their baby would be safe. How could he have said no to that?

So here Buck was, sitting in a grimy motel looking at his best friend, who he was madly in love with and not knowing how to move forward.

Eddie looked exhausted as he laid his head against the wall, closing his eyes. Buck realized his hand was moving towards his friend, wanting to touch his face. Quickly, he moved it down by his side, stuffing his palm into his pocket.

Bobby walked over, actual room keys in hand, "Alright, because the firefighters are in town helping with the fire, they're limited on space. I hope you all don't mind, but we'll be getting a bit cozy for the next couple of days. Chimney and I will room together in a two-bed bedroom. Hen, you'll have an adjoining room, but to yourself." Bobby looked over at Buck and Eddie, "And because I know you two are close, I figured you wouldn't mind sharing a bed. At least, I hope you don't mind, that's all they had left."

Buck noticed Eddie stiffen, and he couldn't ignore the way his own heart was hammering against his chest.

Unfortunately, there had been some unspoken tension between them as of late, which was making things a bit awkward between them. Buck was unsure if it was his energy or the two of them combined.

Way to make me confront my feelings, Cap...

Clearing his throat, Eddie shook his head, "Nah, we don't mind, do we, Buck?"

"Not at all." ***

"It smells like sulfur in here," Eddie said, squinting his nose.

"Isn't that just the way Texas smells?" Buck laughed as he put his duffle bag on the bed.

Eddie looked over at his friend and chuckled, "No, Buck, it's not. But don't go out there saying that; you might get a bullet in your behind for dissing the state."

Not that he had looked at Buck's ass or anything.

Okay, that was a blatant lie. Of course, Eddie had looked. How could he not?

The guy was hotter than the fires they put out daily.

"I agree though, it stinks in here," Buck replied. "That or it's me." He lifted up his arm to smell his pit and winced, "I need to get this dirt off my body."

Do you need help? "Yeah, go for it."

"You sure?"

Eddie nodded awkwardly towards the bathroom, "I'll get the second shower."

Buck walked towards the bathroom and leaned out the door with that familiar grin, "I can't promise I'll save you any hot water."

"Okay, and I can't promise that I won't kick you off the bed in my sleep," Eddie responded with a wink.

"Duly noted," Buck chuckled as he closed the door.

As Eddie could hear Buck's clothes hit the floor and the water start, his heart started pounding. Get a grip, Diaz.

Then again, if he hadn't been able to control it during quarantine, there was no hope for the next few nights when sharing a bed.

Damn his feelings.

Eddie had thought he had been a certain way all his life, so it surprised him when he felt a sexual awakening for the guy after spending more time with him.

He had mistaken it as a deepened friendship. That all changed when he had stared at Buck's lips, wanting a taste.

Shaking his head, Eddie pulled out his phone and called Chris, who was currently staying with Carla.

After exchanging some pleasantries with Carla, she handed him the phone, "Hi, daddy!'

Eddie smiled, "Hey, buddy, how you doin'?"

"Good! We made breakfast for dinner."

"Ooo, my favorite! I wish I could be there. Pancakes and eggs?"

"Mmhmm, with chocolate sauce," Chris replied with a giggle.

"Sounds good, but make sure you eat some veggies and don't forget your vitamins," Eddie said, raising an eyebrow. He stated it, but he knew Carla was a saint; she always took the best care of his boy, even getting a COVID test so she could stay with him. He was so blessed to have her in their lives, thanks to Buck, of course.

Someday he'd thank the guy for everything.

"Tell your dad that I've got it covered, baby," Carla's voice exclaimed in the background.

"Did you hear her?" Chris asked.

"I sure did, tell her she's the captain in charge, and I trust her."

As his son relayed the message, he wished he could give Christopher a big hug. It was crazy how much he missed him even after just one day.

"How's Buck doing?"

Eddie looked towards the bathroom door, "He's good. We've been busy out there trying to get this fire to stop. It's been a lot of work for us."

"You're both superheroes!"

His son, the angel.

"We're proud to do it."

"Well, I'm proud of you and Buck, tell him, okay?"

"I'll tell Buck, I promise," Eddie responded with a nod.

"Tell me what?"

Eddie looked over and saw Buck standing by the bathroom, steam coming out through the cracked door like the smoke of the fire.

God damn. Eddie swallowed at the sight of the towel around Buck's waist. His muscles were still wet, and his hair was perfectly messy. Eddie forced himself to look away.

"Christopher was just telling me to tell you he's proud of us for the work we're doing out here," Eddie answered with a sheepish grin.

Buck's face lit up, in the way it always did when he was around Chris. "Can I talk to him for a minute?"

Eddie nodded, standing up, "Of course. I better get in the shower anyway so we can get some sleep." Buck walked up to him, and Eddie prayed the towel would somehow fall off on his way over, which were totally inappropriate thoughts to be having. He turned his focus back to his son, "Hey, Chris, Buck wants to talk to you, okay?"

When his son cheered, Buck laughed, clearly hearing it.

"Talk to you tomorrow, son. Sleep well."

"Night, Daddy," Chris replied. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Eddie stated, his heart feeling full. "Here's Buck."

He handed Buck the phone, and their fingers touched. For a moment, they just stared at each other, Eddie realizing how close they were standing.

It was electrifying.

This same thing had happened when they were quarantining together. That was the night Eddie wanted to express his feelings, even though he had been afraid to potentially change their relationship. But he never had the chance to tell Buck; he wondered if he ever would.

Buck bit his lip, and Eddie could hear how shakily he inhaled.

Stepping away hurt, but his son was waiting on the other end of the line. But it was those moments that Eddie felt as though Buck had feelings for him, too.

Buck sat down on the bed and ran his fingers through his wet hair, "Hey buddy! I miss you!"

Eddie reached into his bag, getting a pair of thin workout pants out. He looked for his shirt to wear to bed and swore internally because he realized he had forgotten it.

As he walked to the bathroom, he paused and looked over at Buck, who was in deep conversation about the new game Christopher had played. It always warmed Eddie's heart to see the connection between his son and his best friend.

Closing the door, he realized that he was one of the lucky ones.

***

Buck loved talking to Christopher; it was just what he had needed tonight. After the grueling work they'd performed all day, the sweet innocence of that child made him feel like he had been embraced with ease and comfort.

He sat for a moment on the bed, not moving after ending the call, and thought about what had just transpired between him and Eddie.

There had been a spark—Buck had felt it.

His fingers still hummed from the touch of Eddie.

God, he wanted more. He craved more.

This type of desire for another was unlike anything Buck had ever experienced.

As he looked down at his hand, Buck realized he wanted to tell Eddie how he felt. Sure, it was scary as hell, but having these feelings and not acting on them after all this time, was freaking killing him.

Buck didn't want to be afraid anymore. He had been talking to his therapist not to hide away from feelings—something Buck had done most of his life.

He sighed as he changed into his sweat bottoms and a tank top, regretting his life choices as the humidity of a wet towel lingered around his body; he couldn't wait to get back to California.

Buck turned the AC as low as he could, hearing the rumble it started making. "Lovely," he muttered.

Eddie opened the door and raised an eyebrow, "What the hell is that noise?"

Buck's reply was all but lost on him as he took Eddie in, wearing his tight workout bottoms and his chiseled bare chest.

Holy crap... how was he going to function for the rest of the night, especially lying next to this Adonis?

He cleared his throat, "Sorry, I had to crank the AC on to deal with this god awful humidity."

"And here I thought you could handle the heat," Eddie smirked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

If Eddie were flirting with him, he'd take it and give it right back.

"You know I can handle a lot," he replied, moving closer to his friend, "but sometimes a man can only take so much." Buck rolled his hand down his shirt, feeling the sweat already pressing through.

Eddie's eyes followed his hand as they traveled down, but then Eddie looked towards the single queen bed, "C'mon, let's get some sleep. We've gotta be up in a few hours."

Guess that was the end of that.

"Roger that."

As they got into bed, Buck's body was vibrating, shaking with anxious anticipation.

Eddie switched the light off and muttered as he turned away from Buck, "Good night."

"Night, Eddie."

They laid there for what felt like an eternity, and Buck felt more awake than ever.

The mixture of humidity and Eddie's body heat so close was overwhelming. Buck wanted to move further away to catch his breath, but he also wanted to straddle the guy.

What a predicament.

He flipped back-and-forth, trying to get not only comfortable but hoping to turn off his thoughts for a while.

Finally, he just sat staring at the ceiling, hearing sirens somewhere outside. They were still going strong on the fire—that would be them soon enough.

Buck had to get some sleep; his safety and his team's depended on it. He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.

"Buck?"

His eyes popped open. He turned his head towards Eddie, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay over there?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you're flopping around like the omelet my son had for dinner," Eddie mumbled sleepily.

Buck laughed without humor at the ridiculousness of wanting his best friend so badly. "I'm fine, sorry about that. Can't seem to get comfortable."

"It is a tiny bed. I can scoot over more if you want, though?"

As Eddie started to shift over more, Buck grabbed his arm on impulse, feeling his thick muscles, "No, no, it's okay. You don't need to do that."

"Well, if it's the heat, you might wanna lose your fleece sweat pants."

Buck bit his lip at what Eddie was implying. He attempted to make his comment light, "You'd know with your hometown experience I suppose."

"Mmhmm."

"Okay, that might help. If you don't mind, of course."

"Why would I mind?" Eddie asked, turning over to look at Buck through the darkness.

"Uh, I dunno. Just wanted to be respectful is all."

"Buck, we've known each other for a long time. You taking off your pants won't offend me," Eddie said. He was quiet for a moment before adding, "Believe me."

"Okay, okay, I'll take off my pants then." Buck smiled as he stood up, removing his pants and then his shirt. All that was left was his boxer briefs. It was both a relief and a turn on, especially as he noticed Eddie watching him.

Eddie rolled over onto his stomach and chuckled, "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me for it."

"I do."

The words halted Buck in his tracks, and he just sat there.

I do.

Eddie looked at him while he was stuck being frozen, "Buck? What is it?"

I do.

Buck exhaled as he lowered himself back into bed, "It's nothing." It was everything.

He maneuvered under the sheets and put his hands behind his head, exhaling loudly.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Buck replied, closing his eyes.

The problem was, he just didn't know where to start.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fox #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bed sharing #friends to lovers #*my fic

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

Text

how easy it would be to show me how you feel

for @hearteyesforbuck <3

read on ao3

Buck knows it’s Eddie that sits down across from him without even picking his head up from the table. It might be weird that he can recognize his best friend just from the way he inhabits space, but right now he’s thankful for it, especially because he knows it means he won’t be forced to talk or think or move until he’s ready.

24 hour shifts always feel long, but this one felt more like 24 years. Calls were nonstop — so much so that Buck can’t remember the last time he ate — and each one seemed closer to catastrophe than the last. His arms ache from the three people he had to do compressions on, and his leg is stiff and sore after being on his feet more than off of them. By some miracle or good karma, they didn’t lose anyone, but they almost lost too many for Buck to feel like today was actually a success.

He takes another minute to breathe and enjoy the quiet. Everyone else has left already, and B shift is already out on another call, so there’s a welcome stillness in the loft that he knows won’t linger for long. He lifts his head, resting his chin on his crossed arms, and is met with Eddie in the same position, waiting for him. He does his best to smile, but he knows it’s not up to his usual wattage, can feel that it doesn’t make it to his eyes. He stays still under Eddie’s gaze, his eyes scanning Buck’s face for who knows what — hidden pain, fatigue, emotional distress. Knowing Eddie, it’s probably all three at the same time. But Buck gets to do his own cataloguing — Eddie’s hair still mused from his helmet, the mole below his left eye, the shadow of his stubble growing in — so he can’t complain. After a while, Eddie nudges Buck’s shin under the table with foot, motioning toward the stairs with his head.

“Come on,” he says. “You’re coming home with me.”

“You should really buy a guy dinner first, Eds.” Buck says, because he may be exhausted, but he can’t just let Eddie get away with saying things like that.

Eddie kicks his shin in response as he stands, and Buck hopes it’s enough to distract from the blush starting to grow on his cheeks.

He follows Eddie down the stairs to the locker room, grabbing his bag and heading out to the parking lot. He pauses halfway between Eddie’s truck and his Jeep, anxiety squeezing his insides in a firm grip. Eddie throws his bag in the back of the truck and pauses too when he sees Buck still 10 feet away.

“Look man,” Buck starts, shifting nervously on the balls of his feet. “You had a long shift too, I’m sure you want some alone time. I can just head home and we can—”

“Buck,” Eddie cuts him off. “I invited you over. Chris is at a sleepover tonight, and I don’t really want to be alone right now, and I can tell you don’t either. If you really feel that bad, you can pick up dinner on the way and we’ll call it even.”

They’ve been friends for years, but it still always surprises Buck how well Eddie knows him. He can’t detangle his own mind enough to figure out what he needs half the time, but somehow Eddie always sees through the knots and loops. And he always wants to give him what he needs, never seems put out or annoyed by how much Buck needs sometimes.

And he doesn’t want to be alone right now. All he wants is to be with Eddie.

“Pizza or tacos?” he asks, and Eddie’s smile rivals the setting sun, loosening the tightness in Buck’s chest and filling it with butterflies instead.

~~~~~~~~~~

He’s not sure what he’s expecting when he walks into the Diaz house 45 minutes later, but it’s definitely not a mass of blankets surrounded by pillows on the floor in front of the TV where the coffee table usually is.

He turns to Eddie, who’s admiring his handy work. “You made a nest.”

Eddie nods. “I made a nest.”

“Is pizza allowed in the nest?”

“Pizza is, work clothes are not. You can borrow some sweats if you want.”

Buck hands off the pizza box to Eddie as he heads to his room. He digs through the bottom drawer of the dresser, pulling out a pair of joggers and an old Army hoodie he’s seen Eddie wear a million times. It’s soft and worn and smells like Eddie’s body wash, and he slips it over his head before he can think too hard about it. It’s a little snug over his shoulders, and the pants are a little short, but it’s worth it to feel like he’s surrounded by Eddie.

He goes back to the living room, now only lit by the floor lamp and the glow of the TV. Eddie’s already settled in, propped up on two pillows and wrapped in a quilt. Buck follows his lead, picking a fuzzy blue blanket he knows usually lives at the foot of Christopher’s bed. He pulls the pizza box toward him, and he’s halfway through a slice before he notices the movie Eddie has queued up.

“Hocus Pocus? Eds, it’s August.”

“Excuse you, this movie is good all year round. Plus, you said you hadn’t seen it since you were a kid, so we’re watching it.”

The movie starts before Buck can argue (not that he would), and they fall into a comfortable stream of jokes and commentary. As the movie plays, they subconsciously drift closer and closer together in their nest until they’re barely a hair apart from shoulder to ankle. It feels good, he always feels good when he’s this close to Eddie, but it doesn’t feel like enough, like an itch he can’t quite reach. He wraps the blanket tighter around him, jostling his shoulder until it accidentally slips under Eddie’s and he freezes.

Oh.

There’s the itch.

Buck swallows, tries not to twitch too much in case he spooks Eddie and he takes his warmth and the pressure away. Their shared heat leeches into his bones, and he feels himself relax for the first time in over a day. It should be pathetic, how much he craves being close to people, but he’s never really felt ashamed about it. It’s how he shows he cares, how he knows others care about him, and whether it was for a minute or for a night, it’s nice to have proof of that. And no matter how much he’s craved in the past, he’s always reached a limit, had his fill and was able to pull away no problem.

But with Eddie, it’s never enough. The brush of their shoulders when they walk side by side, hip checks as they move around the kitchen at the station, even now, pressed completely in each other’s space, Buck just wants more. Wants to bury himself in as much of Eddie as he can until he can’t feel anything else, because he knows Eddie will keep him safe. He’s the most secure thing Buck’s ever known.

Eddie pauses the movie after Bette Midler sings “I Put a Spell on You,” disentangling himself from the blankets to take the pizza boxes to the kitchen. Buck misses the feel of him as soon as he’s gone, the itch only getting worse. He watches Eddie go, eyes lingering on his arms, wondering how they’d feel wrapped around him instead of a blanket. He knows, sort of — they’ve hugged enough times for him to have experienced being fully enclosed in them. But, like always, he needed more.

He has a thought, then, and he can’t decide if it’s a good one or an absolutely terrible one.

If you want it so bad, why don’t you ask?

And, sure, he could ask, and Eddie would probably go along with it as a “friend thing”, and Buck would get to be wrapped up in Eddie just like he wants, and everything would be fine. But Buck knows, has known since he felt his world shatter when that drill rig came down and buried Eddie alive, that a “friend thing” won’t cut it. He wants everything, and he thinks Eddie might want everything too, if the looks and touches and reluctance to be apart for more than two days is anything to go by.

So he could ask, and it could be fine.

But, it could also be very not fine.

Buck’s still stuck in this loop of what do I do what do I do when Eddie comes back and starts the movie back up. He’s back in his spot from the beginning of the night — only about three inches between them, but it feels like an endless chasm to Buck. Before he can talk himself out of it again, he grabs the remote and pauses the movie, staring straight ahead at the TV. If he looks at Eddie, he knows he’ll back down.

“Hey!” Eddie says. “Come on man, it’s almost over. You can pick the next one, I promise.”

“Eddie,” Buck says, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “I have to ask you something, and...just promise not to laugh, okay?”

“What’s going on, Buck?”

He licks his lips, takes a breath. “Can we cuddle?” he asks in a rush. There’s a second of silence, but it’s enough to send Buck spiraling. “I mean, it can totally be platonic, that’s fine, I just feel like I need it right now? But we don’t have to, it’s fine, forget it, let’s—”

He stops as he feels Eddie’s hand on his arm, turns away from the TV to see him sitting close again, watching him, looking almost as nervous as Buck feels.

“Can it be...not platonic?” Eddie asks, and Buck feels his stomach swoop down to his knees.

He opens and closes his mouth, trying to get his brain to cooperate, before he finally stutters out, “Really?”

Eddie’s smile is soft and easy. “I don’t make blanket nests for just anyone, you know.”

Buck feels a blush crawl up his neck as he laughs, butterflies going into hyperspeed in his stomach. He shifts towards Eddie until there’s no more room between them and pauses, a little uncertain. Just because this is what he wanted doesn’t mean he knows what the hell to do now that he’s got it.

Eddie takes pity on him though, tugging Buck’s arm so it’s around his waist, rearranging them until Buck’s head is on his chest and he’s completely encircled in Eddie’s arms. He plays the movie again, and it takes a minute for Buck to focus on the rest of the story and not the feel of Eddie’s breath in his hair and the unbelievable contentment that overcomes him. They fall back into their commentary like normal, but now Buck can feel every time Eddie laughs in his own chest, and he’s pretty sure he’s never felt anything so wonderful.

The movie ends and they start The Nightmare Before Christmas (“You said I could pick, you can’t take it back now.”), warm and happy in their cocoon. Buck dozes off halfway through, waking just as the credits roll. He tilts his head back to see Eddie watching him again, his fingers lazily dragging through Buck’s curls. If he were a cat, he’d absolutely be purring.

But because he is who he is, there’s also a trickle of doubt making its way down his spine, the fear that this will all dissolve the minute he walks out the door looming in the back of his mind. He’s finally surrounded by Eddie in every way, and now that he knows what it really feels like, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let it go. He searches Eddie’s eyes for any sign of regret or discomfort, but all he sees is the same happiness and peace that he feels.

Still. He has to ask. He has to know.

“This isn’t just for tonight, right?”

Eddie just smiles softly, fingers coming down from his curls to trace his jawline, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He stops under Buck’s chin, tilting his head up so their eyes are level. He leans down slowly, probably trying to give Buck an out, but Buck just meets him halfway, his arm around his waist pulling in tighter. It’s a sweet kiss, soft and slow, Eddie’s lips fitting against Buck’s like they were made for it. They somehow fit themselves closer together, lost in the pulls and drags, and Buck thinks he could live in this moment, feeling and tasting and loving Eddie, for the rest of time.

They have to pull away eventually, but Buck keeps his eyes closed and he tries to commit every sensation to memory. He opens them and is greeted by Eddie’s pink cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, and it takes a good amount of self control to not dive right back in.

Eddie’s hand, still under his chin, moves to cup his cheek, tracing softly over the skin under his eye.

“No,” Eddie whispers. “This is for much more than tonight.”

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fox #''''''''''platonic'''''''''' cuddling #and buck having some emotions because when does he not #ficcery

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mattzerella-sticks · 3 years

Text

⭐2020 Fics in Review ⭐

Happy New Year’s Eve! 💫💫💫 2020 sure was a year... between everything that was happening on the macro (the pandemic, elections, etc.) and on the micro-level (shows delayed, some ending - disastrously, so much drama, etc.), the past 12 months felt like a blur. Especially since we’ve been inside and realized time is an illusion!

But, there were moments where I was able to ground myself in the present and not be swept away by the tide. Most of them were because of fanfiction. Whether writing or reading, fanworks became a soothing balm. And I’d be remiss (and breaking tradition) if I didn’t reflect on my past works of 2020!

I’ve written 43 fics across a wide array of fandoms - the most being Supernatural, with 9-1-1, DC Comics, Marvel, Boku No Hero Academia, Stargirl, Star Wars, Hollywood, and RWBY sprinkled in. I really branched out this year, and am looking forward to what I will write in 2021. Maybe new fandoms? Maybe an original work? Who’s to say!

Thank you to all those who’ve read my works, and am grateful for both your support and continued engagement - can’t wait to see you in 2021 with me 😁

Here are my works!

9-1-1 (TV Show)

Caught (Evan ‘Buck’ Buckely/Eddie Diaz, side Athena Grant/Bobby Nash, side Maddie Buckley/Howie ‘Chimney’ Han)

Photobooths are prime for catching special moments and making them last forever, even if they are less both and more open spaces with a backdrop. When Athena, Bobby, and Michael stumble upon one such moment between Buck and Eddie, what will they do?

And how will it affect Maddie and Chimney?

Lumped Together (Evan ‘Buck’ Buckely/Eddie Diaz, side Henrietta ‘Hen’ Wilson/Karen Wilson, side Maddie Buckley/Howie ‘Chimney’ Han)

As an apology for keeping her thoughts about medical school secret from her wife and partner, Hen takes them (and Maddie) out for lunch. With the promise that it would only be them. And for the most part it was. Until Buck and Eddie strode in with every intention of eating Takoyaki.

Just not with them.

Armed with new information, what's a girl to do? Hen spends the next day fighting back the natural instinct to tease her friends about the wonderful step they've taken together in their relationship. Can she make it home without saying anything? Or will she give in?

DCU

Lonely Together (Barry Allen/Bruce Wayne, past Barry Allen/Iris West, past Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle)

Barry needs others, yet whether by his enemies or his own actions, he ends up alone. After Iris leaves him, Barry feels as if he drifts through life. Like lightning humming in the air without a rod to ground him.

Until he struck another lonely soul and entered a relationship he never thought possible. Now, months since he and Bruce began sleeping with each other, Barry feels settles. At peace in a way he hasn't felt in a long while. Since he and Iris started petering out.

But it's not love... is it?

Come Home (Jason Todd/Kyle Rayner)

Jason Todd gets a message from Bruce. He's surprised to see it. Then, he's surprised by the message itself. Hearing Bruce's final message stirs something inside of him, urging him towards a place he's avoided ever since his and Bruce's falling out. So he gathers his things, and then... waits.

He can't leave yet. Jason doesn't know why. Bruce gave him a mission, just like old times. Except it's not, because he... Jason can't move. Can't even stand.

That's how Kyle finds him.

Restless (Barry Allen/Bruce Wayne)

Returning home from a mission in outer space, the team picks up a distress signal off-course. They rush off to help, landing on a strange alient planet teeming with life. Especially within the plant kingdom.

While guarding the Javelin, Bruce and Barry encounter one such member while engaging in some familiar fight-flirting. Will its effects spell trouble for the League, or help these two relax their guards long enough to explore new possibilities?

(Hint: It's a little bit of both)

Marvel

Hot Seat (Peter Parker/Johnny Storm)

Spiderman likes Johnny. Like likes him. And he thought Johnny felt the same. He wasn't wrong, but Johnny like liked someone else, too. Someone he actually wanted to pursue, over Spiderman.

Unfortunately that someone is Peter Parker.

However, after a terrible misunderstanding, Johny isn't too keen on seeing either Peter or Spiderman; the longer this confusion left unresolved, the more Johnny's hurt would fester. Can Peter find a way to make Johnny listen?

Hollywood

Merrily We Roll Along (Archie Coleman/Rock Hudson)

With their careers still on the rise and no peak in sight, sometimes Archie's and Roy's lives get a little too busy. Understandably so. Archie's in the midst of writing his next screenplay while the latest opens across America. Roy spend more time on set than at home working on his latest project. When their schedules allow it, all they want is to be together.

Can they enjoy a simple morning together, or will the clouds of Hollywood cast a heavy shadow over their sunny day?

RWBY

Lucky You, Huh? (Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi)

After all that happened, it's time for the dust to settle. Choices were made. Now, the consequences for certain actions need to be carried out.

Even though he fought alongside her to save Mantle, Robyn Hill couldn't help save Clover from the whims of the Council. Without a job or home, Clover needs to find a way to carry on.

If anyone understands what that feels like, it's Qrow. Never being one who can communicate his feelings well, would he be the best to comfort the other man. When he's the only one who can, what does that mean for Clover?

Star Wars

Fourth (Poe Dameron/Finn)

What's a man and his co-general to do when they're on a mission together on a planet known for frequent sandstorms?

Flirt? That is a possibility. And definitely the one they take.

Stargirl

I’m Here (Courtney Whitmore/Yolanda Montez, past Yolanda Montez/Henry King, Jr.)

Coda to 1x10 "Brainwave Jr."

Losing Henry was sad, but it's not the first person Courtney knew whose future was snatched by the Injustice Society of America. That doesn't make his death any less tragic. It does remind Courtney how screwed up and dangerous her life was. At least she was able to wake up the next day and keep moving. And so was Beth, and Rick. But Yolanda...

Where was Yolanda? Courtney needs to know.

Crusher (Lawrence Crock/Paula Crock, Pat Dugan/Barbara Whitmore, Lawrence Crock/Pat Dugan)

When Lawrence met Pat, he saw another body that could benefit from some exercise at his gym. The more they interacted, became friends, he saw that body doing other things in other places. And his wife is totally supportive of this. While in the midst of an afterhours training session, Lawrence drags his feet on telling his friend a few important things. Egged on by Paula, will he say what's on his mind? How will Pat react?

And does Pat have a secret or two of his own?

Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Little Secrets Everywhere (Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijiro)

Mina thought letting Bakugo read whatever was in her folder wouldn't be too bad. Maybe he would snipe at her for her less than perfect English translation and sentence structure, slap her on the head with the balled up assignment. What she wasn't expecting was for him to charge with hellish fury towards her in the common room with all their friends to see.

One careless mistake leads to many things coming to light. Everyone walking away with something new to think about.

Boku No Fundanshi (Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijiro)

Bakugo Katsuki is a top student at the premier hero academy in the world. Bakugo Katsuki is a boy with the ability to use his sweat as a weapon, each droplet containing enough nitroglycerin to obliterate a phone book. Bakugo Katsuki enjoys reading manga where boys fall in love with one another. Two out of the three are commonly accepted facts. The final one is a heavily guarded secret that Bakugo protects with his life. At least until his vigilance lapses, and he loses a doujinshi.

Will he be able to recover what he lost before anyone realizes it's his? Or, by the end of this, will he have found something he didn't know he was missing?

Portmanteau (Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijiro)

Portmanteau (port·man·teau) n. a word blending the sounds and combining the meanings of two others

Like Bakugo's chosen hero name. But was that his first choice? Kirishima doesn't think so, after finding a damning piece of evidence hidden within his notes. Except it's not what he thinks, at all...

Supernatural

Real (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Coda to 15x09 "The Trap"

Morning after, and Sam spies a little something blossoming in the kitchen. Something that stokes the fires of his curiosity. When the scene ends, he walks in with an intent to investigate. Learn about the strange magic that happened before his eyes. How quickly Dean and Cas's relationship repaired. And what brilliant new shape it took on after Purgatory.

Will Sam be satisfied with the answer?

Half-Priced Chocolates (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

The day after Valentine's Day is great for many things. Basking in the glow of a night well spent, sharing the joy of love with your family, and eating chocolate priced considerably lower than it was the day before.

Except Sam can't enjoy any of that, because Dean won't let him. Because Dean woke up in a sour mood and has picked up the banners of war against romantic love.

Albeit, the three aforementioned things might make his conflict the shortest in history.

Spill (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Dean always thought it would take more to force him into retirement. Yet here he is, locked in the Bunker until the world figures out a cure for a deadly virus. It could be worse - at least they have a home. He cannot imagine how worse it would be if this happened years earlier, where he and Sam were trapped in a tiny motel room together. Here they have options, and miles of outdoor space they can stroll through if their options become stale.

And they were beginning to. Dean could only do so much indoors. Dean knew he needed to shake things up, but couldn't begin thinking how. Luckily Castiel has an idea, and gives him a new way of looking at their kitchen.

Supernatural Crack🩹tober

Following the Supernatural Cracktober prompt list, one day at a time.

Prompts will be listed in the notes and the chapter title.

Enjoy!

Bullets Over the Bayou (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Everyone wants Castiel Novak to quit the force, including Castiel. But he stays on despite the toxic work environment he’s surrounded by. Still believing he can do some good despite the many lines of red tape impeding him. Luckily, a pair of scissors by the name of Dean Winchester drops into his hands, and he finally feels like he can do some good.

Dean Winchester thought he would be in New Orleans for a day or two. Identify the body of his deadbeat father and then move on. No one knows he’s here. His mother and brother are blissfully unaware of the danger his father roped him into. With a parting gift of a journal, delivered to him the same day he received word about his father, Dean has become the target of a group of people who want him dead. The same people who killed his father.

Racing against the clock, can Dean and Castiel figure out what is so important about John Winchester’s journal that someone would kill for it?

Kick Ball Change (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Coda to 15x10 "The Heroes' Journey"

Dean has the Bunker to himself at a time after he and Sam regain their supernatural abilities. With nothing needing his attention, he decides taking time for himself wouldn't hurt. But the usual fare leaves him bored and tired.

So he tries something new. Something he wanted to try, but wasn't sure he would be good at. Dean starts off strong, but doing it on your own can only be so fun. Get you so far. Luckily a partner happens by and truly allows Dean to enjoy a part of himself he knew was there, but didn't want to share.

Tempered Desires (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Charlie Bradbury/OC, background Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore, background Sam Winchester/Ruby, background Sam Winchester/Mick Davies, past Dean Winchester/Arthur Ketch)

Dating, sex, and finding love were the farthest things on the minds of both Dean and Castiel. There were more important things to worry about - namely the pandemic that swept across the globe and changed everything. Navigating this new environment was hard enough without adding romance.

But fate never intervenes when you expect. From first meetings to first dates, we'll see how Dean and Castiel's relationship blossoms despite the circumstances.

Sunrise (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Dean and Sam were free. Finally, unequivocally, free.

But this wasn't the happy ending Dean had expected. Maybe in the past, having Sam in the passenger seat tearing across an open stretch of highway as the sunsets, it'd be what he wanted. But that was years ago. He's not that man anymore. Dean's tired of sunsets, of saying goodbye. He yearns for a different ending. One that's less of an ending, and more of a beginning. A sunrise instead of a sunset.

Sam has his. Dean lost his. Despite this setback, he won't stop. He'll live in memory of his sunrise.

Except, what can he do when he feels those rays on his face again?

Coda to 15x19

Fixing It (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Dean Winchester walked a long & difficult road. House burning down when he was 4, constantly being on the move until his father lost a fight with demons at the age of 25. Reunited with his mother only to lose her again. Have a son only to lose him, too. Of all the shadows that have crossed his path, he thought one of the main sources of light was his husband Castiel.

But he had to ruin that, too.

Can he ever have that shine again? Or are there things that are too good for him to hold? Will they mend what was broken?

Heart in My Hand (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

He was right there.

Cas was telling Dean everything he ever wanted to hear since meeting the angel of the Lord... only each and every word of his confession stabbed at Dean's heart. Because once he finished, there's no more time for them. For him. For any chance of happiness - all that taken away by the Empty. And now he has to carry on.

He tries. Stands, gets in his car and drives where Sam tells him. When he meets with the others, though...

Coda to 15x18 "Despair"

A Dumb Idea (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

They celebrated Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, birthdays, even the Fourth of July. What about the other holidays? What about Valentine's Day?

Mrs. Butters actually had a plan for that, but she left before it could come to fruition. Sam, however, stumbles on Dean and a leftover piece from said plan. Something Dean would rather Sam not see. When he does get a peek as to what it is, well... Dean and Sam have a lot to talk about.

Coda to 15x14 "The Last Holiday"

What the Water Gave Him (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

It was over. Chuck lost, Sam and Dean can live their lives how they want them. But their victory wasn't without losses. The biggest upset nearly taking Dean out of the game, happening so close to the final battle. Now he's on the other side, alive against all odds, but Sam knows he isn't happy. Not truly happy since the Empty stole his best friend.

But there's a chance they can save him. A slim chance. A risk that Dean's willing to take despite every logical nerve in Sam's body screaming at him to look for better options. That threading a needle this small is too dangerous. That they don't have to take on another big bad, not anymore. That they don't have to risk their lives anymore. Dean is far past the point of listening. Dead set on this mission, Sam can only watch.

And pray his brother proves him wrong.

(Now with art from gabester-sketch)

Acutely (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Jack said he's sorry, after getting his soul back.

Jack said he's sorry, and he's looking at Dean. They're all looking at Dean.

Jack said he's sorry, and Dean can't take it. It's too much. Like a frog thrown into a boiling pot he hops out, jumping out from the room towards safety. Doing his best not to succumb to the pain.

He can't hide forever, let the wounds fester. It's too much to deal with on his own, though. Can someone help him through it?

Leeches (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Sharing a Netflix makes sense, in hindsight. Dean gets it. But that doesn't mean he appreciates seeing a bunch of profiles after his that weren't there last he checked.

He's gonna get to the bottom of this - of when this happened, why, and how they were able to guess his password.

Revival (Dean Winchester/Castiel, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Sam and Dean stand there on the bridge, the camera panning out on them as they are finally reunited in Heaven.

But then Sam wakes up.

(Coda/Fix-It Fic to 15x20 "Carry On")

Memento (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Why did Castiel have a photo of himself in a cowboy hat? Where did he get it? Who took it, and more importantly who gave it to him?

Coda to 15x15 "Gimme Shelter"

The End (We Deserve) (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Dean Winchester dies in Sam's arms.

And then he doesn't.

(How that scene originally looked...)

Constants

Meeting with alternate versions of themselves makes Sam and Dean think about what the landscape of the former multiverse might have looked like - or, really, "If there can be multiple Deans and multiple Sams, can there be other versions of things they know. Like... Baby?"

Dean says no. There's only one Baby. She's got four wheels, black paint, and has been his from the beginning. Sam thinks otherwise.

Let's explore what the possibilities of Deans, Sams, and Babys in different universes might look like.

Enjoy the Present (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Sam had a birthday, Jack had a birthday...

It would only be fitting for Dean to have one, too. It's expected, really. Yet the one Sam and Jack throw him still catches him by surprise. Maybe because he actually agreed with Butters, about having outgrowned birthdays. Or because his thoughts were pulled elsewhere because of some disappointing news.

If it's the latter, than a birthday will definitely take his mind off of that. Especially when it comes time for his present.

Coda to 15x14 'The Last Holiday'

Swallow It Whole (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

"The older you get... the less lies make everything better"

But when you've told as many lies as Dean has, it's hard to tell what's true and what's not. How can he remove all the rotten parts of himself without bringing everything down? Which lies have ingrained themselves so firmly, that removing them would change everything about who he was?

And, scariest of them all, who would he be without those lies?

Coda to 15x16 "Drag Me (Away From You)"

Desperation, Baby! (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Death took her sweet time parsing through Chuck's book, meaning Lucifer spent longer than he'd like surrounded by his former vessel, his brother, his son, and a man whose obvious longing made him want to vomit. Instead of returning with his prize, Chuck welcoming him back, he must waste his valuable time playing 'nice; with those he can't stand.

Not that it matters. They don't trust him, each member of this ragtag group of survivors watching Lucifer in shifts. Never leaving him alone.

It's Dean's turn now, and he's driving Lucifer up a wall by doing nothing at all save for broadcasting a never-ending supply of feeling. Can he cut the signal without showing his hand, or put Dean's heart to good use?

Coda to 15x19 "Inherit the Earth"

A Healing Touch/New Experiences (Dean Winchester/Castiel, Adam/Serafina)

Maybe if Cas hadn't abandoned him, he wouldn't have agreed to Adam's offer. But with free will finally theirs, Cas made his choice, and Dean his. Now he has to live with the consequences - even if they are awkward. He won't die from it, certainly.

It's only a massage.

But what Dean doesn't know, is that it's more than a massage. It's healing.

It Feels Real Good (Claire Novak/Kaia Nieves, background Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Jody sent her to Yosemite, and she brings her back. For what reason, Claire doesn't know. But it had better be important, otherwise Claire gave the Dark Figure that stole her happiness another chance at escape. Will Jody's house hold a reason important enough for Claire to let go of the heavy burdens she's been carrying since hopping through a rift into another universe?

Coda to 15x12 "Galaxy Brain"

Through the Door (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Cas tells Sam that Chuck and Amara are here. But how does he know? Sure, he could've felt them land through his grace. But all that time Sam was gone? There was enough there that he could've investigated. They'd need to know where they were anyway, when the time came.

But Cas should've known better. Now wasn't the best moment for a little family reunion, especially when there's so much bad blood it can drown them all. Yet he came, and finally got the audience he always seeked with his father.

Coda to 15x17 "Unity"

Four of Swords (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

The Four of Swords, in the present position, means you don't want to interact with the rest of the world. Because of stress, you need to spend some time with yourself - unhealthy always being 'on'. That the healthiest thing to do is to escape.

Dean might crave escape, but it's not something he thinks he can have. Something he deserves, even. After his and Sam's most recent hunt, this cancerous feeling has grown heavy and weighs him down. He cannot escape on his own, as best he tries.

Luckily a guardian 'former angel' angel swoops in at his lowest. Helps pick up the pieces as best he can and lovingly put them back together. But he can only do so much. The rest is up to Dean.

Can Dean take those final steps, say those final words, and finally free himself?

i’d like to teach the world to sing (Dean Winchester/Castiel, Castiel/Others, WIP, 10 out of 15 chapters posted so far)

Mar del Vista, California - 1972

The groovy counterculture that dominated conversation in the past few years still clings to the landscape, floating around like smoke off a burning joint. Changed by the fires of war, Manson, and life into something new. Less trusting, optimistic, and innocent.

Cas is just one of many disillusioned hippies, saddled with a general distrust even before the movement self-imploded. Wary of about everything. Perfect for his line of work, where what's on the surface might not match the truth underneath. It's not an easy life, but he's comfortable with how it goes. Coasting until he hears a case he has no business accepting. For one, it's about a missing teen. And another, it's personal.

Except Jack's disappearance, like every other case he's worked, isn't so cut and dry. Like a rock skipping across a then-placid lake, the ripples stretch far and wide. Those waves slamming at Cas; of cops, federal agents, hippie cultists, and a certain green-eyed detective who's a little too interested in Cas's investigation.

Will Cas find Jack? Or will he drown in the tides.

Checkmate (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Billie saves Jack from suffering a fatal end from her plan, and knowing Jack was safe gave Cas space to focus on his own troubles. Nearly losing his son again... revelations from Chuck... choices Dean made, were set on, until Sam broke through at the last minute - too close - they all were...

It was too much. Cas needed to digest these roiling experiences away from faces it hurt to look at. Except he stumbles exactly where Chuck wants him. After countless times praying for guidance, Chuck finally decides now is perfect for a long-awaited heart-to-heart.

Coda to 15x17 "Unity"

Slide (Dean Winchester/Castiel, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

This isn't his day. It's Sam's and Eileen's. But while out on the dance floor, Dean realizes something that forces him to act. Act boldly.

It's not his day, but he cannot push back what's been there all along, dam bursting with no hope or need of rebuilding itself. He has to say something to Cas.

Why? Because it's Electric... boogie woogie woogie

(Inspired by the Suptober Day 9 prompt - Electric)

Unwrap Me (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Dean never thought he would make it this far. Nor would he have as many wonderful things that he has now. A home, friends, family, and most importantly love. With a former angel.

Given how normal his life is now, Dean decides he wants to go all out celebrating Christmas. Parties, feasts, and the perfect presents. He wants to get Cas something that will translate everything that resides in his heart. Dean believes he has the right gift, but decides against leading with it. Instead surprising Cas with it after showing him his Christmas best.

Although, during his entire time planning Cas's present, he never wondered what Cas got him...

Disappointment is temporary, but creativity is eternal 🥂 to more fanworks in 2021!!!

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marvel-medigeek-fics · 4 years

Text

Ao3 link

Eddie: Can you do something for me?

Buck: Yeah, sure, what do you need?

Eddie: Chris brought home a tree, can you help him plant it?

Buck: Be there in 5

—

It’s a little longer than 5 minutes before Buck gets there. When Eddie opens the door, he’s surprised to see Buck holding a bag of potting soil, another bag of garden tools, and a plastic watering can.

“You went all out.” Eddie says, taking the bag of tools and then muttering confusedly.

“I highly doubted you even know what a trowel is, much less have one.” Buck teases, pointing to it in Eddie’s hands.

“So that’s what this is.” Eddie says, while Buck surveys the tree.

“Do you know what kind this is?” Buck asks, morphing into his gardner persona.

“What kind of tree is this, Chris?” Buck turns around to see Chris grinning at him.

“It’s a redbud.” He says proudly.

“What do you say I help you plant it?” Buck says, spinning the trowel around his fingers.

“Because Dad has a black thumb?”

Buck stifles his laugh, but not before Eddie shoots him an unamused look.

“Yes, because I have a black thumb.” Eddie hands the tree to Buck and dramatically carries the rest of the supplies out to the yard.

It takes Christopher and Buck a long time to decide on a space. Buck is finally satisfied when they settle on a spot in the front yard.

Buck all but forces Eddie to help him dig the hole. Even Eddie saying “I might curse it.” doesn’t let him off the hook. 20 minutes later, there’s a mound of dirt and a hole perfect for the tree.

Buck and Chris plant the tree while Eddie watches fondly. Buck doesn’t notice any of the pictures Eddie takes, he’s too busy enjoying the afternoon, and enjoying helping Chris.

Buck and Chris pack the soil, and water the little tree. Eddie doesn’t think it should be called a redbud, it’s not red, but he never did know much about plants. If Eddie makes trees they’d all be called tree. Maybe Groot, if he felt crazy that day.

“Do you like it, Dad?” Christopher asks a while later.

Eddie blinks a few times to clear the vision of wherever he drifted off to. “I love it, buddy.” The little tree isn’t much to behold, but Chris helped to plant it, so he loves it.

—

1 Year Later

Eddie and Christopher have posed next to that tree every holiday. They invite Buck to join them, though a couple times he already had plans with Maddie.

The tree grows steadily, and by the time it’s one year old, Eddie thinks he has feelings for the man who helped his son plant it.

2 Years Later

Eddie and Christopher continue to take a picture next to the tree every holiday, and on Easter it has a few red buds. So that’s where it gets the name.

Buck and Eddie had their first kiss next to that tree on New Years Eve. Not at midnight, but it stil felt like fireworks went off in the background.

3 Years Later

Buck and Eddie and Christopher now pose next to the tree every holiday. Together. They tried kissing in a few, but Chris quickly pulled a stop to that. Except on Christmas, when he asked Abuela to tie mistletoe to the highest branch.

Every holiday seems to get better for the three of them. They all seem to love each other more as the calendar rolls by.

4 Years Later

The tree is taller than Buck now, and Christopher gets a kick every time Buck tries to be taller than the tree. Eddie just takes the picture.

Exactly four years after Buck and Chris planted the tree, Eddie proposes. Classic ring in the tree.

5 Years Later

Athena marries them under the very same tree, and it makes its way into their vows. “I’m so glad you never made like a tree and leafed me.” Guess who said that. Christopher and Maddie stand up with them.

The entire 118 is in attendance. Bobby, Athena, May, Harry, Michael, Dr. Hale, Hen, Karen, Denny, Nia, their newest foster child, Maddie, Chim and their daughter and son. Eddie’s family makes up for Bucks lack thereof.

That tree is the backdrop of their lives together, and none of the Diaz-Buckley’s would have it any other way. Especially not Christopher, who proudly claimed it was his tree that set his dads up.

#fanfiction #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fanfiction #evan buckley #911 #buck #fluff #eddie diaz #buddie fics #buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #fics #fic rec

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firstdegreefangirl · 4 years

Text

Day Seven: Father’s Day

Word Count: 2000

Original Pub Date: 21 June 2020

Relationships: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley

Author’s Note: Seven for seven, and what a week it’s been!

Read on ao3 here

Once more, with feeling, it’s time to tag: @eddiediazweek @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @rebeccaofsbfarm @meloingly

Eddie wakes up to someone pounding on his front door. His first instinct is to defend his household, protect Christopher, but while he’s looking for his pants, his mind catches up to the distinct rhythm of the knock.

Buck.

(The “secret knock” had been Buck’s idea to begin with, a way for Christopher to not be allowed to answer the door to strangers, but still be able to greet Buck at the door. He’d let Chris pick the pattern, a duty he’d taken very seriously for three days before making a decision and spending the better part of a Saturday afternoon teaching Buck exactly how to knock.)

It’s come in handy on more than one occasion, but Eddie usually knows that Buck is coming over, even if he’s not sure when. This morning is a total surprise, but he knows it’s Buck and he doesn’t have to worry. So he lays back down and rolls over to look at his alarm clock.

5:45 a.m.

That’s unusual. The only time Eddie usually hears from Buck this early is if he’s spent the night, lying asleep in Eddie’s bed. He loves seeing Buck like that, spread out and vulnerable, and so, so comfortable in Eddie’s home. Buck had been invited to stay last night, left after the movie was over anyway, claiming an early morning with errands he had to run.

But Eddie’s house isn’t really an “errand,” and even if it were, Buck never arrives this early, so a small knot of worry builds in his stomach.

He briefly considers rolling out of bed anyway, following Christopher down the stairs and looking Buck over. If he’s dropping by this early, there must be a reason, and Eddie can’t think of any that don’t involve something terrible having happened.

But the deal they’d made was that Christopher could open the door, all by himself, to Buck’s knock. Besides, if it were something truly awful, wouldn’t he have called first, texted at least? Or just knocked normally so Chris wouldn’t know it was him?

So he stays where he is, listens carefully for anything worth worrying about, and waits for Buck to come and kiss him good morning.

The door stays closed though, cracked open just far enough that Chris can push it open if he needs something in the middle of the night instead of having to fumble with a doorknob. Eddie admits it; he’s a little disappointed that Buck didn’t even at least come see if he was awake, maybe lay down with him for a few minutes.

Even if he’s held onto the Army instincts that mean he can sleep under almost any conditions, he always sleeps better when Buck is there with him.

He doesn’t have too much time to be bummed out though, because he hears Chris start giggling, Buck’s laughter following right behind. Eddie can’t make out the question Buck asks, but Chris shouts a gleeful response, before repeating himself more quietly.

“Yeah! I mean … yeah.”

Distance muffles the rest of the conversation, but he can hear the refrigerator open and close a few times, and the kind of loud clanging that means Buck is letting Chris help get out the pots and pans.

So they’re cooking something. At 6 o’clock on a Sunday morning, his boyfriend and his newly minted 10-year-old are cooking something, undoubtedly making a tornado-style mess in his kitchen.

(Buck’s kitchen, really, if he’s taking into consideration the number of times he’s been banished to the living room, made to watch from the counter so he doesn’t disturb Buck while he’s working. And Eddie isn’t arguing, Buck looks much more at home in the space than he’s ever felt, so as far as he’s concerned, it’s Buck’s kitchen in his house.

Their house, soon, he hopes, but hasn’t worked up the courage to ask yet.)

A particularly loud crash pulls him out of his own thoughts, and Buck yelps loudly enough that he wonders if he shouldn’t go see what’s going on. Even if he can’t help cook, he can at least offer some emotional support. Besides, there’s nothing he loves more than being around Buck and Chris, just existing in the same room as them. Everything else they do together is just the icing on the cake.

But he wasn’t invited, and he knows that there’s got to be a reason nobody tipped him off. It’s maybe the first time Christopher has kept a secret without Eddie politely pretending he doesn’t know anyway, and he wants to respect the sanctity of that. If it were something he really needed to worry about, he knows Buck would have come to him, would have done whatever he could to look out for Chris.

So whatever’s going on down the hall, it’s none of his business. Not until Buck and Chris are ready for it to be.

That doesn’t mean he’s going to be able to sleep through all the racket, though, so he sighs and pushes himself up to lean against the wall. The lamp brightens the room when he flicks the switch, gives just enough light that he can pick up the paperback book he’d left sitting underneath it. He adjusts the pillow against the small of his back and flips to the page he’d marked with a gas station receipt.

He can’t focus on the words though, try as he might to follow along with the details of Czolgosz’s plan to assassinate President McKinley. It’s not something he knows much about, but the book had caught his eye on Buck’s shelf, so he’d asked to borrow it. It’s fascinating so far, but just isn’t holding his attention today, when instead he could listen to the half-muted noises floating up from the kitchen, the way his house feels full and exuberant and happy.

Even at 6:15 on a Sunday morning.

It doesn’t take long for him to abandon all pretense of reading, to tuck the receipt back into the pages and put the book away. There’s nobody else here; it’s not like he’s going to get called out for the way he’s perfectly happy to listen and smile.

He hears something sizzling in a skillet, and the scent of bacon starts wafting into his room.

Is Buck making breakfast without him? Well maybe he’ll at least have the decency to come find him when the food is ready. In the meantime, Eddie shifts the blankets over his lap, situates himself to be more comfortable while he waits to find out what the big secret is.

Eddie doesn’t fall back asleep, but his mind wanders again. He’s thinking about how perfectly Buck fits into his family, how Christopher is just as comfortable with him as with Eddie, how he couldn’t have imagined a better support system when he moved up from El Paso.

He’s not sure how long he spends zoned out, but the next thing he registers is the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Chris isn’t a particularly stealthy kid, even by 9-year-old standards, so even though Eddie can tell that he’s trying to whisper, his voice carries into the room.

“You’re sure he’s still asleep, Bucky?”

“Pretty sure, kiddo. It’s still early, I’ll bet your dad is fast asleep right now.”

Buck isn’t trying to keep his voice down; if anything, he’s calling out a little louder than usual. Eddie takes it for the hint that it is, dives for the lamp switch and rolls himself back into his blankets. He forces his eyes closed, tries to make sure his breathing is steady and lies perfectly still.

It must be a pretty convincing act, because he hears the door squeak when Buck pushes it open, and Chris’ crutches click-clacking across the floor. There’s a moment of complete silence, and Eddie’s just beginning to wonder if he should open his eyes, when the mattress sags next to him as a heavy weight drops onto the bed.

“Dad! Wake up!” Christopher is crawling across the bedspread, swatting his hands against Eddie’s arms and face. “Dad! Happy Father’s Day!”

Eddie opens his eyes, faking a small yawn as he sits up.

“Whoa, hey, buddy. What’s all this?”

“Bucky came over! We made breakfast!” He points at Buck, who’s standing at the foot of the bed and holding a tray with three plates on it. “Don’t worry,” Christopher continues solemnly. “He used the secret knock to get in.”

“Good.” Eddie nods back, just as seriously. “I’d hate to think what could have happened if you’d opened the door for a stranger. You never know, he might try to … tickle you to death!”

He wiggles his fingers against Christopher’s sides, laughing as he wiggles and writhes, shrieking with delight.

“Daaaaaad! That tickles!”

“I know!” Eddie does it again. “That’s why you can only open the door if we know for sure it’s Buck. Wouldn’t want something like this to happen!” He rolls onto his side, sliding Chris far enough across the bedspread to end the tickle fight. They’re both gasping for breath, everyone smiling and laughing together. “Especially with such a tasty-smelling breakfast to eat. Buck? There’s room for everyone up here.”

He scoots to the middle of the mattress, pats the space he’s just freed up and watches Buck raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t know … Chris? You think I can trust him not to tickle the guy holding the food?”

“Yeah, Dad knows not to make spills.” He nods and reaches out toward Buck. “Can I have mine?”

Buck sits down, leaning against the wall and swinging his legs so that he’s pressed against Eddie's side from hip to ankle. He passes the plates around, holds Eddie’s glass of orange juice while he talks to Christopher about everything he’d helped cook. Or, to hear Chris tell it, everything Buck helped him cook.

“It was m-my idea, and I was the main chef! But Bucky helped. He did the sharp knives and-and the hot skillets. He got to be the … the, wh-what was it, Bucky?”

“Sous chef.” Eddie looks over his shoulder at the way Buck is beaming at his son.

“Yeah! He was the shoe chef!” Eddie and Buck both laugh at that, and Eddie ruffles Chris’ hair.

“Well you both did a great job. I’ve just gone one question.”

“What?”

“Are my eyebrows really as big as a piece of bacon? I mean, the rest of this pancake portrait is spot on, but you think I need to do something about those? Is that some sort of a hint?”

Christopher rolls his eyes and grins.

“No, Dad! It’s just bacon! They don’t make it smaller!”

“Hang on, your dad is right. But I think I know how to fix it.” Buck reaches over and snatches one of the slices of bacon, chews halfway down the length and tears it in half with his fingers before rearranging it on the plate. “See? How’s that, Eds? More accurate?”

“Mmm. Pre-bitten bacon, my favorite. How’d you know, Buck?”

“I had a feeling.” Buck picks a strawberry off of his own plate – the nose, if Eddie is seeing things right – and holds it out for him to take gently between his teeth. “C’mon, your eyebrows are going to get cold, and that scrambled-egg scruff on your chin.”

With that, they all dig in, and for a few minutes, the only noises are those of metal cutlery scraping against the ceramic plates.

Then, Buck leans his head over to Eddie’s shoulder, kisses lightly at his jaw. He’s not trying to start anything, just looking for a way to get Eddie’s attention without Chris noticing.

“Hey, happy Father’s Day.” He sits up and smiles when Eddie turns his head to look.

“Thanks.” Eddie looks between Buck and Chris, then down at the plates of food they’d created together, and he knows exactly what he needs to say next.

It’s not something they’ve really talked about, not yet, but Eddie knows it’s true anyway.

“You too, Buck.”

#eddie diaz week #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christoper diaz #buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fanfic #911 fox #911 #9-1-1 fanfic #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl #katie writes

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seeaddywrite · 5 years

Text

give me strength so i can see (buddie; 9-1-1)

wow, okay, this is absolutely not something i should have written before i finished one of my wips, but this is what happened. i fully blame 9-1-1 & the chemistry between Buck & Eddie, because i couldn’t NOT write fic after the tsunami arc ended. this is my first foray into the fandom & their heads, so please be kind. also, this fic would not exist in its entirety without @soberqueerinthewild, who is always the best cheerleader, beta, & person around. <3 i’ve been in a bit of writing slump lately, so it feels really good to actually finish something!

warnings for self-loathing, references to depression, & excessive amounts of adverbs.

The moment that Buck sees Christopher safely reunited with his father, all of the stress and adrenaline that had kept him going for the last several hours floods away instantaneously. He collapses forward, uncaring of the hard ground that rushes up to meet him. Hen and Chimney stop him from face-planting on the floor of the emergency hospital, but Buck barely tracks their reassurances or their hands as they try to assess the damage he’s done to himself in his frantic attempts to find Christopher. Buck wants to tell them to stop, that he’s fine, that all he ever needed was to witness the scene unfolding in front of them, with Eddie and Christopher, but he can’t quite manage the words through his chattering teeth. Blood loss is a bitch, and teamed with exhaustion, Buck knows it’ll take a while before he’s fully able to interact with the world again.

Right now, that feels like a positive. The only two people he wants to talk to are half a hospital away, wrapped up in each other. Even when he regains feeling in his legs and is steady enough to leave the hospital, he doesn’t try to go near them. Instead, Buck watches from a distant cot as Christopher is checked out by a doctor and his father’s careful, assessing gaze, and slips through Chim and Hen’s guard to leave the makeshift hospital a moment after Chis is pronounced healthy, if tired and cold.

It’s cowardly for him to leave like this, he knows, without so much as an apology to the brave little boy or any attempt to make this up to Eddie, but Buck is too tired to fight, and he’s not sure he could remain standing under the direct onslaught of Eddie’s entirely justified anger that night. Buck would face up to his mistakes later, but for now, it seems kinder for all of them to slip back to the apartment that doesn’t quite feel like a home and hide away under the blankets that still reek of depression and listlessness.

It’s hard to sleep that night, despite the exhaustion plaguing him. The day’s events play on repeat in his head, waking him with a jolt every time he manages to doze off. Every mistake is so obvious in retrospect -- had he really expected a child with cerebral palsy to keep himself steady on top of a floating fire truck? If he hadn’t had to play the hero, if he’d just stayed up there with Chris, it never would have happened. Buck would have had the little boy securely in his arms the entire time. He would never have been lost, or dependent on the kindness of strangers to get him to a hospital. Buck would never have been forced to look Eddie in the eye and tell him that he’d lost his son, or watch that familiar, impossibly deep gaze fill with grief and horror and blame before Chris’s miraculous reappearance.

If Buck hadn’t had to play the fucking hero, maybe he would have finally been able to tell Eddie the truth about how he felt in the rush of victory, of survival and reunion. Maybe he would’ve finally had the guts to admit that being a best friend isn’t what he wants anymore, to say the words he’s been mulling over for what seems like forever. Maybe, just maybe, he could have discovered whether or not there was a chance for them to take things further -- but none of that matters now. The fear of being into guys -- or at least Eddie? Buck hasn’t quite figured that part out yet -- pales in comparison to the pain of losing a best friend and Christopher, who’d managed to get under his skin and cuddle in close to Buck’s heart when he wasn’t looking.

In the end, Buck gets out of bed earlier than usual, giving up on sleep. There’s a slim chance that leaving his bed will stop his thoughts from continuing on that same, downward spiral, and Buck’s nothing if not a gambler. He winds up at the kitchen table, staring out at the sunrise with a beer sitting half-empty in front of him -- just staring out as the new day begins. It’s incredible, he muses, that from here, he could almost pretend nothing catastrophic had happened the day before. The sun is still rising, the birds are still chirping, the neighbors below him are still arguing at decibels loud enough to wake the dead. It’s the same as always, and just as he had for the last six months, Buck finds himself wondering how the world outside can simply keep going when his own personal world had come to a screeching halt. Only today, it’s worse than just losing his job, his identity. Now he’s lost his best friend, too, and the trust of a child he cares about. The losses are far more grievous.

A knock at the apartment door shakes him out of the self-loathing stupor, and Buck drags his aching body out of the kitchen chair with a groan. His bad leg throbs with the addition of his weight, but Buck has a lot of practice at ignoring that, these days, so he continues on with barely a limp, and opens the door, expecting to find Maddie, with her relentless optimism, or Bobby, with yet another pep talk prepared.

Instead, Eddie stares back at him from the hallway, his hands resting comfortably on Chris’s small shoulders as the little boy totters forward on his back-up crutches to hug Buck with a wide, blameless smile. Buck stands, stiff with astonishment, and pats Chris awkwardly on the back, still staring at Eddie, trying to figure out what the other man is playing at. Old instincts make him defensive, stiff, as Eddie leads Christopher into the apartment and begins rattling off the contents of the bag he’s plopped on the table next to Buck’s half-empty bottle.

It’s hard, but Buck manages to tear his attention from Christopher, who’s sitting happily on the coffee table in front of the TV, to try to get a read on Eddie’s expression. Is this some kind of test? Is Buck supposed to play along, or is he supposed to blow up so Eddie has an easy excuse for Chris about why he’s not allowed to come over anymore? Buck has no idea, and the indecision makes him swallow harshly. He doesn’t want to fuck anything up any worse than he already has— by some miracle, he has both of the Diaz men in his home again, and God, Buck wants to keep them there. The sense of family they’ve given him in the last six months of hell is better than anything he’s had since he left home, and losing it once almost killed him. Losing it a second time, now, before he’s had the chance to say something? Buck doesn’t think he could do it.

“You want me to watch Christopher?” The words are incredulous, and not half as even as Buck would have liked, but he manages to keep his voice from cracking, so he takes the win where he can.

Eddie’s less than a foot away now; Buck has closed the distance between at some point, but he honestly couldn’t pinpoint when. There’s no waver in his dark gaze, no uncertainty or anger, and Buck has no idea what to make of it, especially when his response is teasing and light. “It’s easy— he’s not very fast.”

Buck swallows the surprised response that threatens and schools his expression into something resembling calm, but his gut churns nervously. Everything about this interaction screams too easy, and if he’s learned anything through physical therapy, it’s that if something seems too easy, it probably is. No pain, no reward, his therapist is fond of reminding him, and Buck has always agreed. Then again, he’s never feared physical pain. This? The emotional toll of facing Eddie and Chris after his failures? That’s fucking terrifying.

“After everything that happened-“

“A natural disaster happened, Buck.”

Part of Buck wants to scoff, to point out everything that had happened after the natural disaster couldn’t be blamed on nature, not unless it was Buck’s. It is in his nature to tend toward making stupid fucking calls in the heat of the moment, after all. The other part of him soaks up Eddie’s words like a plant does sunlight. He keeps his eyes averted, though, still unable to accept it, unable to even fathom the possibility that Eddie doesn’t hate him. Because he should. Buck knows, because he’s pretty sure he hates himself.

“I lost him, Eddie,” he manages, the reminder a low, defeated croak. Memories from the day before flicker in the spaces between words, broken images and impressions of the desperate search for Christopher, and Buck has to swallow once, twice, to defeat the nausea threatening to overcome him. Buck’s not a parent, isn’t sure he’ll ever be one, but he loves Christopher like his own, and the idea of losing him for good is more than enough to bring him to his knees.

But Christopher is alive. He’d made it out of the tsunami despite Buck’s hubris, and is happily watching cartoons in the living room.

The mental reminder is enough to stop Buck from vomiting on Eddie’s shoes, at least.

“You saved him. That’s how he remembers it.” Eddie pauses, like he’s trying to let the weight of his words sink through Buck’s thick skull. And it’s not like Buck doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to stop seeing every moment of that horrible day on repeat every time he closes his eyes. There’s not much he wouldn’t do to stop the sinking pit of guilt in his stomach, or the squirming sense of self-loathing when he comes close to meeting Eddie’s gaze. But he can’t. The fact that Christopher made it out alive doesn’t make up for Buck’s mistake, and Eddie knows that. Buck had read the blame in his eyes before Christopher showed up at the hospital, seen the way his entire body had shifted away from Buck and into tight, tense lines that spoke of a strong desire to punch him in the face -- at the least.

It had hurt, torn open whatever parts of him weren’t already bleeding with Christopher’s loss, and Buck couldn’t forget it, so this entire conversation felt almost dreamlike, a fantasy that Buck isn’t sure he can trust, no matter how much he’d like to.

“And now it’s turn to do the same for you,” Eddie continues, oblivious to Buck’s internal conflict.

And God, Buck wants that. He wants to put the entire disaster behind him, ignore all of the ways he’d fucked up and cling to the second chance Eddie seems to be offering without talking about it -- but Buck’s played that game before. He knows how it always ends. Bottling difficult things never works for long, and the resulting explosion is usually worse than whatever the actual problem was.

So Buck trails Eddie into his living room, staying just a step behind, and shakes his head when he feels himself become the focus on that intense gaze once again. “I was -- I was supposed to watch out for him,” he tries again, stumbling over the words he doesn’t really want to say. Buck doesn’t do shy or shrinking; his entire life has been about taking up space, being unapologetically himself, but this is different, somehow. This is Eddie, whose opinion has meant too damn much to Buck since the first day they locked eyes at the station, who’s such an integral part of Buck’s life and happiness that the idea of losing him sucks the air from Buck’s lungs. This matters, in a way that nothing but firefighting and Maddie ever had, and Buck won’t screw it up again. He can’t.

“And what, you think you failed?”

Damn it, did Eddie have to sound so nonchalant about this? Of course Buck failed! Christopher had been missing for six fucking hours -- no matter how that equation’s set up, the answer is still the same.

“Buck, I’ve failed that kid more times than I care to count, and I’m his father.”

The words are layered in empathy, in a sense of understanding, that makes something constrict tightly in Buck’s chest. Eddie shouldn’t be comparing Buck’s failure to the trials of being an actual parent -- the two aren’t even remotely close. Christopher has always been safe, happy, and cared for with his father, and Buck knows it because he’s seen it. He’s seen Eddie fight for his son to have the best education, the best childcare, the best of everything. He’s seen Eddie cut himself off from dating on the off chance Christopher would get hurt, seen him leave his own home and family in order for Christopher to be closer to his. There’s nothing Eddie wouldn’t do for the boy, and knows that Eddie’s never really failed his son. Not when it counted. So he can’t help the short, instinctive shake of his head at the reassurance, because it’s just not true.

“But I love him enough to never stop trying, and I know you do, too.”

Unnamed emotion clogs Buck’s throat, and he glances down at the floor, swallowing hard. It’s been hard to play the tough, cool guy the last several months, so Eddie’s already seen him as weak and vulnerable as Buck can get -- career-ending injuries, a lack of mobility, and obvious depression hadn’t done great things for his rep around the 118, not that Buck had particularly cared at the time. Eddie’d been around the most, though, only slightly less often than Maddie, and had seen it all. So it should be easy to admit to loving Christopher, to caring more about his best friend’s son than he cared about anyone outside of Maddie and the 118 squad.

It isn’t.

Buck doesn’t get a chance to say anything, which is probably a blessing. One of Eddie’s large, work-roughened hands claps his shoulder, and warmth bleeds through the thin cotton of Buck’s t-shirt and sends a thrill down his spine. He still doesn’t manage to meet the eyes waiting on him until he hears his name, the single syllable infused with an order that Buck can’t quite ignore.

But once he gives in, Buck’s immediately lost to the intensity of Eddie’s familiar dark gaze. He’s so close, now, and the heat his body throws off is slowly seeping into the icy chasm in Buck’s chest. Maybe, he realizes, he can trust this -- trust Eddie. Because no matter what has gone on between them, no matter how much of an ass Buck has been, there’s never been any reason to doubt Eddie’s sincerity; and there’s no way he’d so cruel as to dangle forgiveness and understanding in front of Buck only to yank it away at the last minute.

“There is nobody,” Eddie begins firmly, and the open honesty in his face makes Buck shiver. Paired with the soft tapping of his thumb against the exposed skin of Buck’s collarbone, it would be all too easy for Buck to sway into the broad chest in front of him and know that Eddie would catch him. “ -- in this world that I trust with my son more than you.”

It’s the last thing he expects to hear, and Buck blinks rapidly at Eddie, trying to understand how it could possibly be true after the previous day’s terror -- but there’s no hesitation in Eddie’s stance, no hint of uncertainty or the blame Buck knows he caught yesterday at the hospital. Buck swallows again, the sound of his throat working audible in the sudden quiet. Thanks and emotional confessions jam in his mouth until he can’t say anything, and Eddie doesn’t give him a chance before he’s squeezing Buck’s shoulder and dropping the point of contact to go say goodbye to Christopher in the living room.

Though his skin is cold where Eddie’s touch lingered, Buck’s grateful for the reprieve. He turns his head and wipes at damp eyes, trying to regain some of the composure he’s lost. Eddie is too good at stripping down every defense, at seeing past all of his walls and leaving Buck open and vulnerable. It’s why he was the only one who could cajole Buck into going to PT after his last surgery, when things were looking hopeless, why he alone could drag Buck out of bed when even Bobby and Athena got shown the door -- hell, Eddie had even wound up with a fucking spare key to the apartment when Maddy didn’t even have one. And Buck is tired of being weak and vulnerable, of needing constant reassurance that he’s wanted and forgiven. This broken-down, over-emotional man he’s become isn’t who Evan Buckley is, and Buck suddenly needs to make that really damn clear to Eddie.

But Eddie’s already on his way out the door with a few teasing comments about staying in-land, so Buck lets him go with a chuckle that feels natural, even if the circumstances don’t. He pivots on his good leg to join Christopher in front of the television, only to stop short when Eddie pops his head back in the door.

“Thank you,” he says, in that same voice that’s sent chills down Buck’s spine at least twice that morning. “For not giving up.” And Eddie’s gone before Buck can summon any sort of response beyond the frustrated yearning that builds in the pit of his stomach when he vanishes out of the doorframe. Buck stares after him helplessly -- and god damn it, it’s not fair that Eddie can be so damned perfect when Buck is still reeling. He’s had months to come to terms with the fact that Eddie is ridiculously good-looking; and it’s never been a big deal that he likes to watch him work out, once in a while. So does pretty much everyone at the station. But this want, this desperation for Eddie’s approval, for his care and closeness -- that’s not normal. That’s not straight. And yeah, okay, maybe Buck’s had a few hints that he could be into guys before, maybe he’s considered and discarded the idea a few times over the years, but it’s never been like this. It’s never been so all-consuming, so impossible to ignore. It’s never been so terrifying. Not because Eddie’s a guy; Buck could care less about that. But Eddie is Buck’s best friend. Hell, outside of the others at the 118, Eddie’s his only friend. The rest have all disappeared, lost in the gaping chasm that separates first responders from civilians who could never understand the pull of the job, no matter how dangerous it might be. And then, of course, there’s Christopher -- the kid who’s still sitting in the living room in front of the TV, patiently waiting for Buck to get his shit together and join him.

Right. Crisis later. Babysitting now.

He can do this, one step at a time. Eddie’s not mad at him, and if he says that Chris isn’t either, then Buck can take him at his word. Buck drags in a slow breath, straightens his shoulders, and goes to join the child on the couch with a genuine, if small, smile.

“Hey, buddy …”

******

They spend the day in the apartment, this time. Buck wants to say that it’s because they deserve a lazy day after previous one’s mess, but really, there’s a large part of him that’s afraid to set foot outside with Christopher, no matter how slim the chance of a second natural disaster. So they spend hours on the floor of the living room building increasingly complex structures with Legos and order that pizza Eddie prescribed and devour the entire thing -- if Buck eats a little more than he normally would, it definitely isn’t because Eddie told him to. It’s light and uncomplicated, just easy camaraderie that Buck never expected himself capable of finding with anyone, let alone a little kid, and the ease of it all is enough to allow some of his anxiety to bleed away. For the first time in the last thirty-six hours, Buck is truly able to relax.

Christopher’s energy starts to wane after dinner, so Buck takes the initiative to put in one of the movies shoved in the bag Eddie packed for him. They end up in a pile of blankets and cushions on the floor -- Buck’s leg is stiff and sore after yesterday’s exertions, and Christopher hasn’t said anything, but he’s moving a lot more slowly than usual, and taking extra care when he does, so Buck guesses that he’s in some pain, too. Cerebral Palsy isn’t something he knows a whole lot about, but a lack of muscle tone is pretty obvious, and clinging to poles and other floating refuse during the tsunami had to have taken a toll on his little body. Not that Christopher had ever complained -- and that, right there, is yet another reason for Buck to be in awe of what that child is capable of.

“Buck?”

The small voice interrupts whatever animated crap is on the screen, and Buck glances down at Chris in askance. From this angle, all he can see is blonde curls; Chris has his cheek pressed against Buck’s chest, and is curled up beneath one arm. The warm weight against his body has Buck half asleep himself, but he rouses enough to ask, “Yeah?”

“You didn’t lose me.” The simple, sleepy words make Buck’s heart seize, and he stares down at the top of Christopher’s head, trying to form words with numb lips. “I heard you tell Daddy that you did, but you didn’t.” Buck is struck speechless. He freezes, and the silence in the room seems a condemnation of his inability to speak, but Christopher doesn’t seem to mind. He presses on, unconcerned. “You found me, and I kept swimming, just like Dory, and I found you and Daddy. And I’m safe, and you’re safe, and we don’t need to be scared anymore.” The matter-of-fact, blunt sentiment is hard for Buck to swallow, but he runs a hand over Christopher’s disheveled curls and down his back, anyway.

“I’m sorry you had to be scared at all, buddy,” he says honestly, and manages to keep his voice level and calm, despite the uncertainty he feels. “But you’re right. You’re safe now, and that’s what matters.” It seems like the most natural thing in the world to drop a casual kiss to the crown of blonde hair, and Buck doesn’t allow himself to second-guess the impulse when it’s done. “Come on, kid, you’re falling asleep. Let’s get you up to bed, huh? Your dad won’t be here for another few hours, and I think we both deserve a nap.” It’s not his most graceful or subtle subject change, but Chris is young enough not to notice -- or tactful enough to let it go, Buck’s honestly not sure which.

Mock complaints and grumblings get tossed around, but Christopher clings to Buck’s neck as he carries him up the stairs and helps him settle into the bed with a minimum amount of fuss. They lay on the mattress together for half an hour, until Christopher’s breathing is slow and even, and there’s no hint of wakefulness on his young face. Buck knows better than to ruin his progress with sleeping during the day; that’s a one-way ticket back to the land of depression and hopelessness, and he refuses to fall back into bad habits. Instead, he slides from the bed, careful not to jolt the other occupant, and heads downstairs. He hadn’t had a chance to do his stretches and exercises from physical therapy that day, yet, and he knows he needs to -- firefighter or no, he’s not losing any mobility. The stretches have the added bonus of requiring all of his attention and focus, so his mind won’t wander to any dark places. Or any Eddie-shaped places, which Buck is pretty sure he should avoid, too.

So that’s how Eddie finds Buck an hour or so later, sweat-soaked and lying, arms and legs akimbo, on the living room floor. He hadn’t heard a knock, or even the door opening, over the pounding of his own heart, and Buck flails upright into a sitting position when he hears the familiar chuckle from the entryway.

“Only you would spend an entire day fighting a tsunami and still feel like you need to work out the next day,” Eddie says lightly as he enters the room, dressed in the same casual outfit from this morning. There’s a cut above his eye that hadn’t been there before, and Buck knows him well enough to read the fatigue in the set of his shoulders and the lines around his mouth. He recognizes that look from a hundred rough shifts, and can imagine what Eddie’s seen today on clean-up duty from the tsunami. He shudders, then carefully picks himself up off the ground and leads his guest into the kitchen to grab them both a beer without asking if Eddie wants one.

“Can’t slack off on PT,” Buck explains as they both settle down at the tiny kitchen table. “I may not be a firefighter anymore, but I’m not going to get stuck working behind a desk somewhere.” He can’t quite look directly at Eddie, but it’s easier now than it had been this morning to try. The sucking pit of desolation in his chest is gone, replaced by a stupid, schoolgirl flutter of nerves in his gut when they stand too close, and Buck doesn’t really know what to do with that -- but it’s easier than waiting to hear if Eddie’s decided to close him out of his and Christopher’s life for good.

“You’re not going to end up behind a desk,” Eddie says firmly. There’s a frown forming between his brows, and something distinctly unhappy in the way he’s staring at Buck. Before the latter has a chance to question it, Eddie stands up and grabs both bottles of beer from the table. Without a word, he shoves both of them back in the fridge, then turns to face Buck again with his chin raised in challenge. “Unless you keep drinking your breakfast, lunch, and dinner, that is. Did you even eat today?”

Buck’s spine stiffens defensively. “Chris ate lunch and dinner,” he says carefully. There’s good reason for Eddie to doubt that Buck’s been taking good care of his son, after all, even if this morning it had seemed they were passed it. “And I wouldn’t drink when I was watching him, Eddie.”

A complicated series of emotions flickers over Eddie’s face, but it’s hidden behind one large hand before Buck can even try to translate it. “I didn’t ask if Christopher had eaten,” he says quietly, and drags his hand down his face to rest on the table directly in front of Buck. The movement has him leaning down, leaving them so close that their faces mere inches from each other. Immediately, the speed of Buck’s heartbeat kicks up a notch, and he curses himself for reacting so inappropriately to mere proximity. “I told you this morning, man -- I trust you with my son. I know you wouldn’t drink while you were watching him, or forget to feed him, just like I know you never gave up on him yesterday.”

Buck chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then deliberately leans back in his chair, trying to put some space between them before he answers. “Then what’s up with the third degree?” he demands, trying for some semblance of his usual bravado. “If you really thought I was taking good care of Christopher, why are you --”

“Because Christopher isn’t the only person I care about, Buck,” Eddie cuts in sharply. Frustration emanates from him in waves, and Buck wants to offer reassurance, but he’s too busy trying not to read too far into those words to manage it. Eddie cares about him. He’s known that for months -- caring isn’t the same as wanting to be with someone romantically. The two of them are friends. Best friends. And Buck needs to get ahold of himself before he says or does something to ruin that.

“What --”

“Don’t sit there and act like you don’t know what I mean!” Eddie shoves away from the table and paces in a circle around the table, never taking his eyes off of Buck as he does so. Unlike other moments when Eddie looks at him, Buck finds he doesn’t like this sort of scrutiny. It leaves him feeling like all of his weakest, most fragile parts have been put on display, and Buck’s never been good at admitting to his own problems. “It was bad enough when you were laid up from surgery, but now you’re either drinking or sleeping, or pushing yourself way too hard in PT. You’ve been losing weight for weeks, and it’s not healthy, Buck! I’m worried about you!”

Silence reigns in the kitchen for a long moment as Buck tamps down hard on the impulse to bellow that he’s fine, and no one asked Eddie to worry about him -- that’s the response of a scared man-child, not the person that Buck is trying to be. And truthfully, it’s nice to know that someone’s looking out for him. The others at the 118 and Maddy try, Buck knows, but they’re easy to reassure. A grin here, a cock-sure comment about his prowess there, a playful slug to the shoulder, and almost everyone sees him as the same old Buck who’d gotten into the fire engine the night of the bombings.

Eddie’s not that easy to fob off, and as much as it makes Buck feel uncomfortable, it makes him feel seen.

“I’m okay, Eddie,” he says instead, and lifts his chin to hold the skeptical gaze aimed at him. “I am, really.” The words feel honest, for the first time in quite a while, and Buck even manages a genuine smile. “You were right, when you dropped Chris off yesterday. Hanging out with him -- it was what I needed.” Buck shakes his head in remembered awe of the little boy and his strength. Even stranded in rushing water higher than his head, clinging to a pole for dear life, Christopher had been braver than Buck ever could be, and his courage and grace under pressure had shown Buck exactly how much work he had to do to deserve any part of the life he felt entitled to. “You and him -- even with everything yesterday -- you guys made me realize I needed to do something different, or I was going to end up somewhere I never wanted to be.” His smile thins, slightly, and Buck reaches out to touch one of the arms crossed over Eddie’s chest. “Even if I’m still not sure how you forgave me so easily, after what I did.”

An exasperated huff escapes Eddie’s mouth, and gives the impression that if this were a cartoon, he’d be tossing his hands in the air. “Buck, there was never anything to forgive!” he says, voice pitched just low enough that it wouldn’t wake Christopher. “You got stuck in a tsunami. I know you’ve got an ego, but you can’t really take credit for a natural disaster. And Christopher is fine!”

“But he almost wasn’t!” Buck interjects, tired of being the rational one in the room. If Eddie seriously wants to have this conversation, then he’s going to have to face the truth, too. “Give me a fucking break, Eddie -- those two mintues between me telling you I’d lost him and that woman showing up with Chris in her arms? You did blame me. You looked at me, and that’s all I could see, okay? You did blame me. And you were right. I messed up. I was supposed to look out for your son, and I failed, and it’s okay for you to blame me for it.”

God, Buck’s tired. He hasn’t been until this moment, but it’s like this argument and facing these awful truths have sapped every last bit of energy from his veins, and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be up for arguing with Eddie in his kitchen. He leans forward on his elbows over the table an exhales gustily, then lifts his chin again, determined to catch the moment when Eddie finally admits the truth to himself.

But instead of the realization Buck has been expecting, Eddie’s face is only showing that same frustration. They freeze like that for a moment, Buck leaning against the table and trying hard to hold himself together, Eddie staring down at him from his position against the wall of the kitchen, arms folded over his chest, that guilt-laden frustration obvious in his expression.

Then, faster than Buck can track, Eddie’s standing in front of his chair, grabbing his elbows and pulling him to his feet. It’s a gentle yank, and Buck could have ignored it if he chose, but he’s shocked enough by Eddie’s closeness that he goes along with it. They end up toe-to-toe, close enough that Buck can feel warm breath on his cheek, and there’s nowhere to look that doesn’t end with him staring back into Eddie’s dark eyes.

“Look at me now,” Eddie tells him quietly, and Buck has to quell a shiver as two solid hands land on both of his shoulders, squeezing with just a little too much pressure to be truly comfortable. “I want you to stand here, and look straight at me while I tell you this: I do not blame you for what happened yesterday. I’m grateful to you for not giving up on him, okay? I know you love him, and I can’t even tell you how relieved I am that he has you in his corner.”

This feels like the conversation they should have had this morning, when more was being left unsaid that wasn’t, and this time, Buck isn’t going to pretend. “I do love him,” he admits, still looking straight into Eddie’s face. Vulnerability is hard, but it would be harder to keep pretending -- and Buck’s so damn tired of pretending. “And I, uh … I believe you.” Because there’s no denying reality, not when it’s quite literally staring him in the face. No matter what he saw, or thought he saw, yesterday, Eddie really doesn’t blame Buck for losing Christopher. They’re still solid, still good, and Buck’s not losing anyone.

Relief swamps him as hard as any of the waves from the day before, even though Buck had thought he’d stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop that morning. Apparently, anxiety isn’t that easy to get rid of, even when it’s not screaming in the back of his head. He shifts to take a step back, to carry himself out of Eddie’s gravitational pull, before he ends up falling into his chest or something equally embarrassing, but Eddie’s grip just tightens on his shoulders, not allowing Buck to go anywhere.

A second passes, two, and Eddie leans in a little closer, until they’re sharing the same breath. Buck swallows convulsively, telling himself over and over that he’s misreading the situation, that this can’t be what it feels like, but he can’t stop his eyes drifting down Eddie’s face to catch stubbornly on his mouth. Full lips quirk up in a smirk, and heat rushes to pool in Buck’s belly. He doesn’t know what this moment is or how they got here, doesn’t know where they’re going next, but that smirk tells him everything that he needs to know: Eddie knows what Buck wants. Knows how he feels. Probably has for a while.

And he hasn’t gone anywhere.

“I keep waiting for you to figure it out,” Eddie says in a low voice, and Buck’s eyelashes flutter before he can remind himself that he wants to be wholly present in this moment and doesn’t want to miss a damn thing. “I don’t go around telling everyone I meet that I trust them with my son’s life, Buck. Outside of my family, you’re it, do you get that?” It’s Eddie’s turn to swallow, and Buck tracks the movement of his throat with wide eyes. “You’re it.”

There’s a different meaning to the words the second time Eddie says them, and Buck feels like a kid at the eye doctor, putting glasses on for the first time. When he looks back at every interaction he’s had with Eddie since the bombs, he can see the same want reflected in Eddie’s face that has stared back at him in the mirror every day. When he runs his eyes over Eddie’s expression, he can read the same nervous hope, the same uncertainty, beneath his confident exterior.

And this time, when Eddie leans further into his space, Buck leans back.

Their lips bump together, almost incidentally, a soft kiss that’s more of a test than it is a true embrace. Buck’s heart leaps, and the anxious flutter in his stomach is back as he tips his head to correct the angle. The second time their lips meet, it’s better -- Eddie lets out a soft, surprised huff of air, and Buck takes advantage, pulling him closer with impatient hands at the belt loops of his jeans. He’s not thinking anymore, stopped sometime around when Eddie’s fingers tightened around his shoulders, and it feels so good to lose himself, to trust that Eddie will catch him as he falls.

“You could’ve just said,” Buck mutters against Eddie’s lips, his hands roaming over the forearms revealed by the style of his button-up shirt. “I thought I was going crazy.” He wants to be annoyed that Eddie’s known all this time and waited for Buck to make the first move, but he can’t quite work up to it. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he needed the chance to wrap his head around this new truth about himself, and if Eddie had made a move before he was ready, Buck knows he wouldn’t have reacted well.

“I’m pretty sure your sanity has been in question for way longer than I’ve been in LA,” Eddie shoots back with another teasing smirk. At some point, his hands slid from Buck’s shoulders to the planes of his back, and Buck’s not ashamed to admit that he pushes back into the touch, arching his spine like a cat seeking attention. He rolls his eyes at the joke and presses his face into Eddie’s neck, taking a long, slow breath to steady himself. The last two days -- hell, the last several weeks -- have been a riot of emotion that he’s still trying to sort, and as happy as he is in this moment, Buck knows that there’s still a lot for he and Eddie to talk about and work through. And Buck’s life is still a shambles, no matter how unexpectedly good his personal life has become.

“You’re thinking too much,” Eddie tells him, his arms snug around Buck’s waist, holding him comfortably against his chest. “The world is complicated, Buck, but you and me? That doesn’t have to be. We can figure it out as we go.” A steady hand smooths over Buck’s spine, and he relaxes incrementally. It sounds too good to be true, but Buck has no intention of giving this up now that he’s got it. And Eddie’s gone to great lengths to make sure Buck knows that he can be trusted when he says something, today -- it wouldn’t make any sense to stop now.

Buck lifts his head and smiles at Eddie with an echo of his old, rakish grin. “You’re going to have to do better than one kiss if you want me to stop thinking,” he says daringly, throwing caution to the wind and jumping headfirst into the unknown. Overthinking and panicking isn’t who Buck is, and he’s not going to let recent events change him. He’s stronger than circumstances, and Evan Buckley is more than a job title or a patient ID bracelet.

He’s a fighter, and this time, all he wants to fight for is happiness for him, Eddie, and Christopher.

“Hmm, that sounds like a challenge,” Eddie observes, head cocked to one side in a faux-thoughtful expression. “I guess I don’t have much choice but to try harder then, do I?”

Buck lets his satisfaction show on his face as he meets Eddie in another kiss. As in everything, practice makes perfect; this time, his knees get weak embarrassingly quickly, and he finds himself with his arms tossed around Eddie’s neck to keep his balance. He’s still smiling as they trade kisses back and forth, unable to quell the overwhelming contentment swelling in his chest. Eddie’s flushed and breathing hard, too, though, so Buck doesn’t waste a moment on embarrassment. They both want this; there’s no reason to start overthinking now.

“Da-aad!” The whine from behind them stops the kiss in its tracks as both men take a hurried step back and spin to face the doorway. Christopher is leaning heavily on his crutches just past the arch, a blanket draped over his shoulders and hair mussed from sleep, and staring at them crankily. “Buck’s s’posed to be taking a nap with me. You can kiss him when we wake up.”

Eddie and Buck glance at each other, and the bubble of tension - romantic and otherwise - surrounding them bursts with a synchronous peal of laughter. Christopher gives them an unimpressed look, and Eddie recovers first, stifling another chuckle to tell him, “Sorry, buddy. But everyone’s awake now, right? So maybe we can watch a movie or something, and we can both spend some time with Buck before we have to go home.” He shoots a sidelong glance Buck’s way, like he needs permission or something stupid to talk about them with his son, or to stay longer. Like Buck is going to complain about getting more time with them.

“What you think, Chris? Should we let your dad watch the rest of Hotel Transylvania with us?” Buck asks, and reaches out to grab Eddie’s hand -- just in case he’d gotten some ridiculous idea that this thing between them was going to be a secret.

Christopher isn’t the kind of kid who’s grumpy for long, even right after a nap, so he beams at them and nods excitedly. “We have to start over, though,” he says seriously. “Daddy hasn’t seen the beginning, and he might get confused.”

Buck nods his agreement, and Eddie just laughs. He tosses his free hand over Chris’s shoulders, and the three of them start toward the living room together, as a unit. As they settle together on the couch with tangled limbs and shared quips and laughter, Buck takes a second to breathe in the reality of this moment. He’s truly, incandescently happy, and he wants to take the memory and hold onto it forever -- through whatever job-related heartbreak and medical emergency comes next.

Because now, Buck’s got Eddie, and he’s got Christopher, and that’s more than enough to make him want to keep fighting.

#my fic #buddie fic #911fox fic #buck x eddie #buddie #i will put this on AO3 at some point when it doesn't sound like way too much work

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