#<- LITERALLY 911 SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT I WROTE 10 MONTHS AGO AGO

[buddiecanon8x11]

I wish more than ever that I had finished the fic I planned for the hiatus between s7 and s8 because LITERALYYYYY look at this:

“I thought you understood.” Misery chokes his voice.

“Well, I think I’m starting to.”

The resignation in Tommy’s voice puts Buck on the defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that for you, he’s always going to come first,” Tommy says. “Kid, look, I get it. We’ve all been there. It’s practically a right of passage.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Gay—or bi, in your case—guy falls in unrequited love with his straight best friend?” Tommy says. “It’s a classic for a reason. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us.”

Tommy’s tone is mild, sympathetic, even. Buck feels like he’s been slapped. “That’s not what this is at all.”

Tommy snorts. Snorts. Like Buck is some kind of joke.

“Evan,” he says, that way he always does—that makes him feel just like a child again, acting up and getting reprimanded for it. “Come on. I clocked you from the very beginning, and then you said it was my attention you were after, and hell, I was flattered. Of course I was. But, well. It’s clear that whoever’s attention you were trying to get, your attention is very much elsewhere.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Buck says in a low, grinding voice. “Eddie’s my best friend, of course I’d do anything for him. Just because I’m bi doesn’t mean I’m in love with every male friend I have.”

“I’m telling you this for your own good, Evan,” Tommy says. “The sooner you’re honest with yourself about what you want from him, the better off you’ll both be. Otherwise, it’s just going to be this—you running to his every beck and call and hoping that one day he’ll see all that you’ve done for him, how devoted you are to him, and somehow it will make him want you back. Well, let me tell you right now, Evan. It won’t. It never does.”

Tommy is twisting everything about his relationship with Eddie, turning it ugly. I dragged his bleeding body to safety, he wants to scream. I held his shaking fists in the wreckage of his grief. I watched him pick up the pieces. 

He gave me something to live for. 

“You don’t know a thing about him,” Buck hisses, his fury like a live wire in his chest. “And you don’t know a thing about me, either. I think you should leave.”

Tommy puts up his hands. “Fine. At least I warned you.”