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nerdycucumber · 3 years ago

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from the prompt - "i think you look beautiful" for @lesbiandiaz

let's not talk about how long ago you sent me this <3

Buck asked for this. Not consciously, but he did ask for this. He has no one to blame but himself, really.

He’s sitting cross-legged in Hen and Karen’s backyard, nose itching with spring allergies, with Nia, innocently oblivious, spreading sparkly eyeshadow and lipgloss all over his face in the name of beauty.

(He had walked outside and found her chasing Harry around with a lip gloss wand, demanding that someone let her make them beautiful. And Buck, well, he couldn’t resist that face, could he?)

Meanwhile, Denny, Harry, and Chris, all significantly less innocently oblivious, are weaving leaves and twigs into his curls.

May, who was supposed to be watching over them, is no help from where she’s sitting stretched out on one of the lawn chairs, fingers tapping away at her screen, looking up occasionally, snorting, and shouting out words of encouragement to the kids.

“We’re making Buck pretty!” Nia giggles and all three boys nod their heads in agreement.

“And I so appreciate this generous makeover from you, Nia,” Buck says as she takes a brush and swipes some blush down the side of his face. He’s watched enough random makeup tutorials on YouTube to know that that is not his color, but he’s not going to tell her that. “Because you are a true artist. The rest of you I’m not so sure about.”

He reaches a hand behind him and digs his fingers into Harry’s side, tickling him.

“Hey,” Harry shouts, batting his hand away and jumping back a foot. “We’re just trying to help.”

“Yeah, Buck, we’re just helping Nia out,” Denny adds on, shooting a grin at Harry.

“We’re professional hairdressers, Buck,” Christopher says, trying to keep his voice level and serious, but he can’t really keep back his laughter.

“Oh are you, really? Remind me—when did you three go to cosmetology school again?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Harry says, dropping a handful of leaves over Buck’s head. Nia chastises him as some of the leaves drop over the front of his face, and he at least has the conscience to look a little guilty about it.

“I help my dad with his haircuts sometimes,” Christopher points out. Buck smiles.

“Well someone has to. Your dad’s too cheap to get them done professionally.”

“One time he used the clippers by himself and ended up with a bald spot on the back of his head. Abuela said he wasn’t allowed to do his hair unsupervised after that.”

Buck snickers, glancing over his shoulder at Christopher.

“I bet he looked real funny like that. You take any pictures?” Christopher’s eyes light up and he nods, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

“Yeah! But they’re on Pepa’s phone. I can ask her to share them with you.”

“That’s my boy,” Buck whispers back, holding his hand out for a fist bump.

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Eddie’s voice cuts through the yard. All five heads snap up and look in his direction before Christopher utters a tiny uh oh and all the kids scramble to different parts of the yard, Denny pulling Nia along by her hand.

Buck twists around, staring at the space around him.

“What, you're all just gonna leave me here like this? Traitors,” He shouts after them. He reaches a hand up and attempts to shake out some of the leaves, wincing as his hair gets caught on several twigs.

“Kids,” Eddie starts, crossing the grass towards Buck. “Can’t trust ‘em.”

Buck grins sheepishly at him. “You’re telling me. This bunch is sneaky, too. They pull you in with their cute charm and then you can’t get free.”

Eddie reaches a hand out towards him and Buck eyes it appreciatively before grasping it and hauling himself up.

“Yeah, kids are like that,” Eddie says, a little distracted, his eyes dancing around Buck’s face and hair. He presses his lips together, valiantly holding in his laughter, and starts helping dismantle the bird’s nest the boys made of Buck’s head.

“Thanks,” Buck says quietly, eyes dropping to the ground and watching as sticks and leaves fall down onto the grass. “They really did a number on me, huh?”

Eddie laughs, brushing some debris off Buck’s shoulder. “You haven’t seen your face yet.”

Buck’s eyes shoot up to meet his and Eddie freezes before stepping back and grinning. He pulls his phone out from his back pocket and tells Buck to smile, which earns him a scowl, and snaps a picture, turning the phone around for Buck to see.

“Please delete that immediately.”

“No,” Eddie pulls his phone away before Buck can grab it, sliding it back into his pocket. “I don’t think I will.”

“Well—just so you know, your son just promised to share some pictures of that time you shaved a bald spot into the back of your head, so.”

“Hey man, I’m just helping you out.”

“Funny, that’s what the kids said when they were turning me into some kind of forest monster.”

“And what kind of father would I be if I deleted the proof of all of their hard work?”

“I hate you,” Buck frowns—which just makes Eddie want to laugh harder. He bites his lip.

“Okay, okay. I think I have some wet wipes on me.” Buck watches as Eddie slips his hands into his jacket pockets, pats his chest pocket, pats along his legs, then finally pulls a packet of wet wipes out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“You carry wet wipes with you everywhere you go or did you just set me up for this?” Eddie gives him a look.

“We’re at a kid's party, Buck. And I have a kid. These are a staple for all parents everywhere.” Eddie pulls a wipe out and studies Buck’s face, not even really sure where to begin. The longer he stares, the more pitifully Buck stares back at him. Eddie blinks and decides to start with the eyes.

He steps closer to Buck, holding his jaw lightly with his fingers and whispering for him to close his eyes. There’s a moment of prolonged eye contact before Buck finally obliges, and Eddie starts gently sweeping the wipe over his eyelid.

“Plus,” He adds quietly. “I’ve got a best friend who somehow always manages to find himself caught up in all kinds of messes.”

“Aw, you carry those around just for me, Eds?”

There’s a pause, just for a moment, and Eddie swears he can hear his heart beating. He swallows.

“Just for you.”

Neither of them says anything for a minute and Eddie concentrates on making sure Buck’s eyes are clear of all glitter and makeup. He startles a little when Buck chuckles and Eddie feels the warmth of his breath.

He braces himself for whatever Buck’s about to say and then—

“Did you not like my makeover?” Buck and Eddie glance down, surprised to see Nia staring back up at them, standing to the left of Eddie.

“Uh,” Eddie says helpfully.

When did all four kids surround them? Eddie looks back up at Buck expectantly. Buck blinks back at him.

“I did,” He licks his lips. “But we’ve got to get ready for dinner now. So Eddie was just helping me clean up. My...face.”

“Did you tell him he looked beautiful?” Nia asks, this time staring right at Eddie, who blinks back at her.

“...I’m sorry?”

“When I used to do Mama Hen’s makeup she wasn’t allowed to take it off until Mama Karen told her she looked beautiful.”

Eddie stares at her, hand still hovering in the air by Buck’s face. Christopher tugs at his shirt from his other side.

“I think she wants you to tell Buck he looks beautiful, dad.”

Eddie turns slowly to look at him. “Thank you, Christopher.”

Christopher has the nerve to laugh at him.

Eddie straightens up and looks at Buck who stares back at him blankly, offering no assistance. He notices May setting her phone down out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile spreading on her face.

He definitely stepped into some sort of trap, walking outside. He’s sure of it.

“Um,” He says, dropping his hand to his side. Buck ducks his head a little, fluttering his eyelashes at Eddie. Eddie’s gonna kill him.

“You got something you want to say to me, Diaz?” Eddie shakes his head, letting himself laugh at the absurdity of the situation, Buck still with makeup smeared over half of his face, a bunch of kids surrounding them, watching them expectantly.

“Yeah, Buck. I think you look beautiful.”

The kids all burst into cheers and Eddie watches in amazement as Buck’s cheeks turn a shade of pink he’s pretty sure he’s never seen before.

May stands up from her chair.

“Alright let’s all get inside to wash up before dinner, okay?” She ignores everyone’s protests and ushers them back towards the house, sending a wink in Eddie’s direction before shutting the patio door.

Eddie lets his eyes linger on the door, daring anyone else to come out and catch them in another trap.

No one comes.

He turns back to Buck and they both just stare at each other before laughing softly. Eddie looks down at the wipes in his hand, almost forgotten. He steps back towards Buck and starts removing what’s left of the makeup.

“So...beautiful, huh?” Buck says eventually. Eddie focuses on the movement of the wipe against Buck’s face.

“Well, maybe not like this,” He says honestly. Buck huffs out a laugh.

“That’s good. I was worried I was gonna have to get done up like this all the time just for you to notice me.”

Eddie swallows, wiping the last stray swipe of glitter gloss from Buck’s face. He lets his fingers linger against his skin.

“I always notice you, Buck.”

Buck doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches Eddie ball up the used wipes in his hand before slipping the pack back into his pocket.

“Really?” He says eventually, looking back up and holding Eddie’s gaze. Eddie hesitates.

He wants to play it off—say something about how of course everyone notices Buck, he demands attention all the time. He’s loud and bold and sometimes obnoxious—but Eddie knows that not everyone notices Buck the way he does.

It’s different. It’s not something that he can’t help—it's natural, instinctual. He’s drawn to Buck at all times, always. He doesn’t think there’s a way he could ever stop noticing Buck. He’s in everything Eddie does.

He notices Buck in the new alarm clock that sits on his nightstand—the one that’s supposed to wake him up gradually like the sun—the one Buck had insisted on buying for him because he thinks Eddie’s sleep schedule is shit and this clock’s supposed to be better. He never tells him that it actually does work for him—but he imagines the way the dark circles under his eyes have started to fade probably tell him all he needs to know.

He notices Buck in the oat milk that sits in the back of his fridge, in the extra protein bars in his pantry, in the box of baking supplies up high on the tallest shelf (maybe Eddie can cook—but he never bakes.)

He notices him in the extra clothes that end up in his laundry basket every once in a while—leftover from nights when Buck passes out on their couch. Notices him in the LAFD hoodie hanging on the hook by his front door (the one that’s just a little too big to be his own,) in the spare key to Buck’s apartment that’s been on his ring of keys for years now.

He’s in the way Eddie makes his morning coffee, the playlist he listens to on the way to work, the movies and TV shows in his Netflix queue, in the new phrases and mannerisms that Christopher picks up—ones that always hit Eddie right in his gut.

Of course Eddie always notices him. He could never miss the way Buck’s smile lights up a room or the way his laugh loosens up every tense muscle in Eddie’s body.

Sometimes, like if he’s had too much to drink, Eddie starts to think of Buck as a lighthouse. A really tall, really sturdy lighthouse. And through whatever—rain, fog, sleet, hail—Eddie’s always able to find his light.

Sober Eddie thinks that’s corny. But the thought always comes back to him—a truth he can’t shake.

“Yeah, Buck,” He says quietly. “Really.”

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