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#also please burn down buck’s apartment building so he has to move in with eddie
buddiedaydreamer911 · 5 months
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bucks apartment smells like smoke.
buck is now alone in said apartment with christopher.
eddie is not there.
reasonably i know there is still an episode between now and Ashes Ashes/All Fall Down
but what the fuck
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extasiswings · 4 years
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Hopping on this train of writing to cope with promo image-induced feelings.  No thoughts, just vibes.  Also on ao3. 
The air inside the warehouse is thick with smoke and blisteringly hot.  A snapping sound splits through the crackle of flame and Eddie is abruptly yanked off balance as Buck grabs his arm and pulls hard just as a beam from above comes crashing down. It doesn’t miss him completely—catches the side of his helmet and knocks it off, making his ears ring with the impact. 
He sees Buck’s mouth moving and shakes his head. 
“What?” 
“Are you okay?” Buck repeats, nearly shouting to be heard over the din of the fire. 
A light fixture groans above them before dropping down as well and it’s Eddie’s turn to push Buck out of the way, even if it means a bit of flying glass catches him in the face. 
“We need to get out of here,” he shouts, and it quickly turns into a coughing fit as he chokes on smoke, his throat and lungs burning. 
Buck nods. “Go! I’m right behind!”
Eddie turns and manages to work out a path to the closest exit with a single-minded focus. His head is aching and he’s dizzy, can feel blood dripping down his cheek as well, and when he stumbles out into somewhat fresher air he nearly collapses into Bobby before he’s passed off to the paramedics. 
Hen had been one of the first ones in and out and has since stripped off her turnout coat and is helping the other medics. Eddie doesn’t argue when she checks his throat and pupil responses before pressing an oxygen mask into his hand. 
“Where’s Buck?” Hen asks as she swipes an alcohol pad over the cut on his cheek and secures it with two butterfly strips. 
Eddie lowers the mask and coughs. “He was right—“
Behind me. 
The words fade on his tongue as he scans the area only to come up empty. And then his eyes light on the door he’d come out of, nothing clear beyond the frame but black smoke and the red and orange glare of flickering flames. 
His world tips on its axis.  His vision swims.   And the feeling—
It reminds him a little of the tsunami, when he’d noticed Christopher’s glasses around Buck’s neck and had felt himself fracturing at such a rapid pace that even now he’s sure he wouldn’t have remained standing if he hadn’t caught sight of his son over Buck’s shoulder. He can feel the same sort of cracks spidering up the foundation of his walls—the ones that he throws up when he needs to be Eddie Diaz, firefighter, medic, soldier, competent professional, any version of himself that has to play at having his life together—and he scrambles internally to shut down the panic, to plaster over the cracks before they can spread too far, because if he lets himself think—
“I need to talk to Bobby,” he says, trying to push himself up to standing. Hen shoves him back down with hands firmly on his shoulders. 
“You need to sit and keep breathing into that mask,” she says, her voice sharp with authority before it gentles. “I’ll get him, but only if you stay here.”
Eddie’s jaw tics, but he lifts the mask back up to his face and takes a few pointed breaths while she watches. Finally, she nods. 
“I’ll be right back,” she promises. 
There’s an itch between his shoulder blades that desperately wants an outlet. Something to do, something to control so he doesn’t feel so much like he’s on the edge of a cliff. So that he can work on a solution instead of his mind unhelpfully focusing on Buck’s still in there.  He’s not an idiot, he knows he’s in no shape to go back in himself, but he needs something. 
“We were in the southwest quadrant,” Eddie reports when Hen returns with Bobby, keeping his words short and clipped.  “It wasn’t overrun but there were a lot of things falling from the upper levels. He said he was coming right after me, but he could have gotten stuck.”
This is easier. Staying mechanical. Sticking to facts. There’s no room for getting overly emotional, no allowance for breaking down.  He has a commanding officer in front of him who needs information, and that is something Eddie can handle. 
“We tried him on the radio but there was no answer,” Bobby says. 
“He may have dropped it.”  When he pulled me to safety. Eddie shuts that thought down. 
“There are windows on that side,” he adds. “If the exits are blocked—“
“We’ll look at all possible options,” Bobby replies.  His face is drawn and tired, face streaked with sweat and soot. 
For some reason it’s the flicker of doubt Eddie catches in his eyes that makes him say—
“He wasn’t being reckless. I know—we all know he can be sometimes, but he wasn’t. If he’s not out, it’s because he needs help, not because he’s trying to be a hero.”
Bobby looks at Eddie for a moment, something passing across his eyes like recognition before it fades and he’s left looking more tired than before. 
“We’ll look at all the options,” he repeats finally. He doesn’t make promises. Eddie’s not sure whether or not he appreciates that. 
It takes another several minutes for anything to happen, and Eddie’s shoulders get tighter, his mood blacker. His head aches and he snaps at another paramedic, some clearly new young kid, when he notices him dressing a burn improperly. 
It doesn’t make him feel better. 
Finally though, finally, after a heart-stopping moment when the warehouse windows blow out on the side where they’d last been, Eddie hears shouts. And a figure comes stumbling around from the back of the building, knees giving out just in time for someone to catch him. 
“What happened to I’m right behind?” Eddie asks roughly when Buck is helped over, looking worse for wear but alive. 
Buck coughs and closes his eyes. “Part of the catwalk came down,” he says. “Blocked me in. Couldn’t see you. Couldn’t see anything hardly through all the...everything.”
“I didn’t know.”
Buck shakes his head and dutifully brings his own oxygen mask to his face when one is pressed into his hand. 
“Wouldn’t have wanted you to stay even if you had,” he replies. “At least I had all my gear.” 
Eddie wants to keep talking, keep asking questions, keep reminding himself that Buck is sitting next to him and going to be fine, but that irrational impulse wars with the rational thought that Buck needs oxygen not an interrogation. So he drops it.  And they both withdraw into their own heads. 
Eddie watches though. As Buck flickers between present and vacant, numb. The haunted, hunted look that passes over his face every so often a clear indication that whatever ghosts are whispering in his mind, they’re saying nothing good. When the shift ends and they’re cleaned up, Buck still looks half-dead, so Eddie snatches his keys. 
“I’m taking you home,” he says, tone booking no argument. “I don’t want you driving like this.”
Buck sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Okay.”
The drive is silent, but there’s a tension in the air, the weight of things unspoken. Eddie’s not entirely sure what exactly would roll off his own tongue if he opened his mouth, his head a mess, but when he parks his truck in front of Buck’s apartment, Buck finally speaks. 
“You know what I was thinking while I stuck in that building? Besides that I was going to die.”  He swallows hard. “That if it had to be someone it was good it was me.”
Eddie’s heart stops, his stomach rebelling violently at sheer wrongness of the thought. 
“That’s not true.”
Buck nods and lets out a small, bitter laugh. 
“See, I do know that actually,” he admits. “It’s one of the things I’ve been working on in therapy. Except then my parents rolled into town and it was like none of that work mattered, I was right back to square one assuming I’m not wanted, that no one would miss me—and I hate, I hate that they have that kind of power, that they can make me feel so fucking worthless.”
“You’re not though.” Eddie reaches over before he can stop himself, his hand curling around the side of Buck���s neck, thumb settling over his pulse to feel that steady thrum of alive alive alive. “God, when I thought—you’re worth everything. You have to know—“
You have to know how much you mean to me. You have to know how much I love you. You have to know I can’t lose you.
You have to know. 
Buck makes a small sound of disbelief, his gaze turning searching as Eddie bites his tongue to keep from saying too much he can’t take back. He feels somehow even more precariously positioned on the edge of a cliff than he had in the field, but that cliff was positioned above an ocean of grief. He doesn’t know what’s at the bottom of this one should he fall. 
Somehow that’s almost more terrifying. 
Eddie sways forward unconsciously and Buck presses his forehead to his. Neither of them are breathing steadily. And they stay like that for a long moment until Buck shivers and pulls back. 
“I want to kiss you,” he says quietly, and Eddie can’t quite help the frisson of want that sparks through him, the whisper of yes, please, do it then that threads through his mind. 
“But,” Buck continues, his tongue sweeping out to wet his lips as Eddie watches. “But it’s been a long and really fucking difficult day and I’m not—I don’t want to fuck this up before it even starts. If—if there’s anything to start at all, I don’t want to assume—“
“There is,” Eddie assures. I love you. I’m in love with you. 
That gets him the faintest smile as Buck reaches up to squeeze his hand. 
“Thanks for the ride home.”
“Of course. Anytime.”  
When Eddie gets home, he pauses long enough to check on Christopher before falling into bed. And only then does he think back over the day and finally, finally let himself shatter. 
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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years
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only hymns upon your lips
read on ao3
Eddie loves kissing Buck.
He should have seen this coming, really. From their very first kiss — a slow, syrupy thing, bathed in what little starlight they could see from Buck’s balcony — at least 25% of Eddie’s waking thoughts are about when he gets to kiss Buck again. He could (and has, on occasion) spend hours mapping Buck’s lips with his, drinking in the sounds and sighs Buck makes as Eddie’s hands trail up and down his body, getting drunk off the taste of this man that’s stolen his heart.
As much as he wants to, it’s impossible to be kissing Buck all the time. He does have a life. And a child. And a job.
Though if he could figure out a way to get paid to kiss Buck, he’d do it in a minute.
Instead, he settles for stealing kisses wherever and whenever he can: peppered along the back of Buck’s neck while he’s cooking dinner, gently placed on his knuckles as they watch a movie with Chris, dropped on his shoulder at a 118 family picnic in the park.
The only place he avoids it — by some combination of will power, prayer, and magic — is work. He has to, for his own sanity. At work, he’s focused, professional, running into burning buildings without blinking. Buck is too, ever the picture of the hero firefighter. They may have morphed into BuckandEddie in every other aspect of their lives, but on the job, they’re still Buck and Eddie — still having each other’s backs, but just a bit separated, compartmentalized so worrying about each other doesn’t cloud any judgement.
It’s usually not hard — they did it like this for years with no problems.
Some days, though, are much harder than others.
It’s pouring outside, and rain like this brings nothing but trouble. Their last call was rough — a multi car pileup on the 405 with more DOAs than anyone wanted to stomach. Everyone took it hard, piling back into the truck quiet and subdued, but Buck was taking it worst of all. He had spent the better part of their time there holding the hand of a young woman with deep abdominal lacerations, losing blood too rapidly for her to make it to the hospital. He talked to her quietly the whole time, kept her company until her eyes closed and a white sheet was placed over her. The pool of red was still expanding underneath her as they drove away.
The ride back was silent, everyone stuck in their own heads, trying to process what they could and file away what they couldn’t for later, in therapy or otherwise. After days like these, Buck and Eddie can’t help but gravitate toward each other, blurring those lines they normally keep so rigid between work and home. This time, though, Buck’s out of the truck before it even finishes parking, long legs taking him quickly toward the locker room without a glance at anyone or anything else. As much as Eddie wants to chase after him, he knows that when Buck’s like this, he has to deal with whatever’s happening in his head on his own before he’ll let anyone else in.
So as much as it pains him, as deeply as the itch to be close to Buck unfurls under his skin and in his bones, he keeps his distance. 
A few hours later, Bobby’s almost done making dinner — chili and cornbread, comfort food to combat the weather and the day — and Buck still hasn’t emerged. Eddie doesn’t really want to bother him, but he also knows he’ll be in an even worse mood if he doesn’t eat.
He makes his way to the bunk room, quietly opening the door, trying to let in as little light as possible. The blackout curtains are practically industrial, plunging the room into an endless night for all the odd hours the team attempts to sleep. The only things breaking up the black are the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck up on the ceiling in real and fake constellations, courtesy of Chimney and a buy-1-get-1-free sale at the dollar store. They don’t do much to light the way to any beds, but Eddie doesn’t need to light, can make out enough of a lump in the back corner bunk to know where he needs to go.
Buck is dead to the world, snoring softly, so he doesn’t even flinch as Eddie toes off his boots and slides into the bunk behind him. It’s a tight fit for two full grown men, but Eddie just relishes in the excuse to pull Buck as close to him as possible, feel their hearts beat together. 
He starts at Buck’s shoulder, lips leaving a lazy trail as they move across the broad expanse toward his neck. He moves up one side and smiles to himself as Buck starts to stir. The short hairs at the bottom of Buck’s hairline tickle his lips and his cheeks as he keeps going to the other side of his neck, and by the time he makes it to his other shoulder, Buck’s fully awake, flipping over Eddie’s arms to face him.
“Hi,” he says, voice small and scratched with sleep. His eyes are still sad and shoulders are still slumped with an invisible weight even as he’s lying down, but there’s color back in his cheeks that was distinctly lacking after their call. It’s something, better than no improvement at all.
“Hi,” Eddie whispers back, lips taking up a new path over new skin. His cheek, his forehead, lingering on his birthmark. Buck’s eyes slip shut again and he places kisses there too, and featherlight ones on his nose that get a huff of laughter out of him, a very good sign as far as Eddie’s concerned. He makes it to Buck’s lips, finally, and pours everything he wants to say into it — You did a good thing today, I’m sorry you’re feeling like this, I love you, it’ll be okay soon. 
They break apart, foreheads resting together, and there’s a ghost of a smile on Buck’s lips. “What happened to no kissing at work?” he asks, though he doesn’t sound upset about it.
“Figured today was an exception,” Eddie says, hand coming up to scratch through the head at the short hairs at the base of Buck’s skull. Buck melts further into the mattress, and Eddie places another row of kisses along his brow bone. “How are you feeling?”
Buck shrugs, leaning his head forward to rest it on Eddie’s shoulder, giving Eddie access to his neck again. He shivers when Eddie finds the spot behind his ear, arm coming up to snake around Eddie’s waist and pull him impossibly closer.
“Can we stay here forever please?” Buck asks, voice muffled by Eddie’s shirt. This literally nothing Eddie would rather do than wrap himself around Buck until all his sadness is gone, but…
“We could, but the chili will definitely be gone by then.”
Buck sits up so fast his head almost breaks Eddie’s nose.
“Is there cornbread too?”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Do you know Bobby at all?”
It’s a flurry of limbs and sheets then, just the mention of food brightening Buck up exactly like Eddie had hoped it would. Buck grabs Eddie’s hand and yanks him out of the room, only making a pit stop to grab a sweatshirt from his locker.
Eddie ignores the swoop in his stomach when he sees “DIAZ” emblazoned on Buck’s shoulders.
The team’s already eating as they come up the stairs, two chairs next to each other left empty for them. Bowls and plates of cornbread are passed to them, and Eddie has to maneuver everything with one hand since Buck won’t let go of the other. 
Bobby squeezes Buck’s shoulder from the head of the table, smiling warmly between the two of them. “You okay, kid?”
Buck looks to Eddie and Eddie thinks screw it before leaning over to kiss his birthmark again. It’s quick, but the look on Buck’s face when Eddie leans back is shy and sweet and enough to make Eddie rethink this whole “boundaries at work” thing.
“I will be,” Buck says. And he will. Eddie will make sure of it.
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Pack a Bag, Say Goodbye (The Musical)
Okay so as some of you might know, I am a huge fan of musical theatre and this is probably so weird but I was re-reading @doctornineandthreequarters amazing fic Pack a Bag, Say Goodbye and this came to me, where songs would go in the story and what they would feel like and sound like. So I wrote it down. I don’t know if this will make much sense to anyone else, but this is what I spent several hours doing today so if you hate it please don’t tell me.
Say Goodbye- The opening number. It’s Buck’s solo as he packs up his apartment, saying “goodbye” to the things he has and the people he’ll be leaving behind. It’s also mixed through with some dialogue between Buck and Maddie and Buck and Chimney and Buck calling Lena and then Buck’s call with Christopher. It ends with Buck’s call to Maddie as he says goodbye to her and hangs up. This song jumps between comical and heartbreaking since Buck is both making up reasons for Maddie not to come to his apartment and he’s saying goodbye to everything he’s known.
Lyrics: Say goodbye to the tv, old couch, you can’t take it with you anyway. Say goodbye and don’t look back.
Welcome to Haven Acres- This is an upbeat song of Buck arriving at Haven Acres and Lucy showing him around the place and meeting the other residences. It’s got the same vibes as Around Here from the musical 9 to 5.
Lyrics: Welcome to Haven Acres, a place to find a bed, a meal, and yourself, I guess.
A Story for the Ages- Buck and the other residents sit around the bonfire and share their stories about why they ended up at Haven Acres. The song changes pace from person to person, but it remains heartfelt and moderately solemn throughout.
Lyrics: It’s not a long story by any means, you may have heard it before. It’s a story for the ages, my friend.
Real Life Hero- After Buck helps Lindsay give birth to her baby, Buck and Lucy sing as they clean up the living room. Lucy calls Buck a hero for helping deliver the baby (as well as being a firefighter), but Buck calls her a hero for creating this safe place and carrying on despite all the tragedy from her life. This is a sentimental duet.
Lyrics: You’re a real life hero, even if you don’t see it. It takes a lot of strength to do what you do.
Familiar Face- Athena shows up at Haven Acres and sings to Buck about how much his family loves him and misses him. Think To Build a Home from Bridges of Madison County.
Lyrics: How I’ve longed to see this familiar face, someone I knew long ago. You’re still the same you, but oh so different.
The Phone Call- It begins as an overlapping song of Maddie, Chimney, Bobby, Hen, and Eddie that comes to an end when Buck’s phone rings and he picks up. What follows is a almost reprise to Familiar Face where Eddie tells Buck that he misses him and needs to see him.
Perfect Strangers- After Eddie and Chris show up at Haven Acres, Buck and Eddie sing this mirroring soliloquy. They both sing about how they missed each other, but are too unsure and scared to say anything. Think In His Eyes from Jekyll and Hyde.
Lyrics: He’s not the same, he’s just a perfect stranger. But one I miss so deeply.
Best Friend- After Eddie kisses Buck and Buck pushes him away. Eddie promises to try to be his bed friend again and earn that trust back before pursuing anything more. This song is nostalgic and slow.
Lyrics: I know things are different, but I swear, I’ll find my way back to your side somehow.
The Phone Call (reprise)- Buck calls everyone back, apologizing and making amends, but explaining his decision to stay at Haven Acres. This song is upbeat and sporadic, jumping from conversation to conversation.
A Perfect Wedding- It’s a decorating montage! Everyone at Haven Acres rushes around, picking up tempo as they do so, planning for the wedding and decorating for Christmas along with the arrivals of Buck’s family.
What Love Means- A duet between Lindsay and Thomas as they get married, mirroring Buck’s own complicated feelings on love. It is the most romantic duet you’ve ever heard.
Lyrics: Every moment, I know I love you. Even when love seems messy and hard, I still know I love you.
I Won’t Let You- In a condescending duet, Buck and Eddie’s feelings come to a head after the wedding. But when Eddie refuses to say how he feels, the passionate duet ends and turns into a chaotic mess of Buck and Eddie singing over each other, neither listening.
Lyrics: I won’t let you break my heart, my heart again. I know that I deserve better than that.
Where Are You?- Buck goes back into the fire at Haven Acres to search for Sophie and Lucy while they call out to him and Eddie enters the building looking for Buck. Think Colder by the Minute from Frozen.
Pack a Bag- The gang returns to Haven Acres to see the burned remains. They reminisce about how the place saved them, each having an individual solo. They then talk about their plans now, where they’ll go.
Lyrics: This isn’t an ending, we’ll pack our bags and moves somewhere new. We’re going to be alright.
What Love Means (reprise)- Buck talks to Eddie and explains his feelings in a perfect parallel to Lindsay and Thomas’s duet. When Eddie joins it, he doesn’t harmonize, but joins in a round with Buck, falling in step after him.
Here to Stay- When Buck returns to LA, he assures his family that he’s not going anywhere.
Lyrics: I’m here to stay, I’ve been gone a long, long time, but I’m here to stay.
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reddielibrary · 5 years
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Gotta Catch ‘Em All
Written by @pawprinterfanfic
Gift for @greenornaments
Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak
Word count: 9,500
Rating: Teen
AO3 Llink
Eddie Kaspbrak never knew loving someone could hurt so much.
He was eighteen when he found out. It was his first year of college, and his insufferable roommate managed to worm his way into his heart. 
(Fuck that guy.)
Richie was everything he should’ve hated — he was messy, and loud, and annoying. He did hate him. He hated his crude jokes, and his trash mouth, and his smile that caused his heart to skip a beat, and his gorgeous eyes, and his ability to make him laugh at anything, and how his heart was seemingly always in the right place, and—
Yeah. Eddie was a goner. 
At eighteen years old, he knew that he was in love with Richie Tozier. Now, at twenty-one, Eddie realized how awful it was.
He was in love with someone who didn’t love him back. 
It was torture, and Eddie hated it more than he hated much else before. It felt like he was doomed to be friends with the idiot for a long time — which was fantastic because Richie was a great guy — but it also sucked ass, because he really, really, really wanted to kiss him more than any friend should.
Don’t get him wrong; he was happy being Richie’s friend, because being anything with Richie was worlds better than being nothing with him. He’d gladly silently pine over him for years if it meant he could have his friendship. He was his best friend, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Having a massive crush on his roommate may or may not have had anything to do with his current situation, which involved getting dressed up to go dance with a bunch of sweaty adults, drinking alcohol that tasted like shit, and staying out half the night.
“It’ll be fun,” Richie repeated, following Eddie as he moved around their tiny apartment. 
After spending freshmen year living in the college dorms together, they pooled their resources and rented off-property, which was probably one of their better decisions. Usually, they shared one brain cell when they were within ten feet of each other. 
“If you say that one more time, I will kill you.” Eddie dumped his armful of freshly washed clothing onto the couch before turning to make his way to the kitchen, not stopping to give Richie a spare glance. “It’s not going to be fun. Dancing in someone’s dark and moist little basement will never be fun. You can quote me on that.”
“Please, for the love of god, never say moist again.”
Eddie pulled the tag off the bag of bread and plopped two pieces into the toaster. Richie hauled himself onto the counter, his feet swinging back and forth like he was a kid on a swing set.
“Moist is a fine word, Richard. Just like phlegm, and panties, and ointment, and—”
“Ew.” Richie gave a violent shudder and sent a sour look at the other man. Eddie tried to keep the corners of his lips from twitching upwards. He found bothering Richie fun. Sue him. “You really know how to kill the mood, don’t you, Kaspbrak?”
“There never was a mood, dipshit. Besides, I was just listing a bunch of perfectly normal words in the English language. I didn’t know you were going to gag at them.”
Richie tried to scowl. Eddie almost would’ve believed it, save for the smile curling his lips. “I hate you,” he said.
Eddie pursed his lips. “Do you, now?”
The facade cracked easily. The scowl disappeared, leaving Richie grinning widely. “You’re right. I’m a liar. I love you. My lil’ Eddie Spaghetti.”
Richie made a move to press his lips to Eddie’s cheek, but he stepped out of the way. The butter knife, covered in soy butter, pointed in his direction. Richie must’ve anticipated his response, because he gave an exaggerated wink and ruffled Eddie’s hair.
“If you’re trying to convince me to come with you, you’re doing a shitty job,” he pointed out. His heart was still pounding from when Richie made a move to kiss his cheek, and he hoped his body wasn’t betraying him with a blush. “You’re annoying the shit out of me, Rich.”
“But you luv me,” he sang, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Sure, like I love wet socks, maybe.”
Eddie Kaspbrak was a liar.
Richie wasn’t deterred and continued to pester him. “It will be fun. I’ll be there. Bill will be there. Stan will be there. Mike will be there. Bev will be there. Ben will—”
“I get it. Everyone will be there.” 
Eddie reached around Richie to grab a glass from the cupboard behind him. He moved out of the way of the swinging door, thus moving right into Eddie’s space. He bit his tongue and forced his eyes to remain on the task at hand.
Don’t get distracted. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at—
Fuck, he has really pretty eyes. And his stupid smile, god, I want to kiss that stupid smile right off his face. And—
Wait! No! Fuck!
Eddie jolted backwards, pulling his glass with him. Richie didn’t say anything and only raised an eyebrow as he slid back against the cupboard.
Eddie’s heart was pounding. Being so close to Richie was unhealthy — all he wanted to do was tell him how in love with him he was, and that was guaranteed to end in disaster and embarrassment.
“It’s our last year in college, Eds, and after this we’ll be adults.” Richie wrinkles his nose at the word, like it thoroughly disgusted him. “How many opportunities do you think we’ll have as fucking adults to go to a Halloween party? Do you think we’ll ever be able to get dressed up in shitty store-bought costumes and eat so much candy our stomach hurts ever again?” He didn’t wait for him to respond. “No! We’ll be old and boring by Halloween 1998. This is our last chance!”
“First of all, you’re a dramatic bitch, Rich. Secondly, I’m fairly confident adults have Halloween parties.”
“Are you an adult?”
“Well, I am twenty-one years old, so—”
“Are you an actual graduated adult living in the real world, and not this weird in-between pre-adulthood thing called college?” Richie cocked an eyebrow, already knowing the answer. “Exactly. So how confident are you that actual adults in the real world celebrate Halloween?”
Eddie was silent for a long moment because, well, he wasn’t entirely sure. His mother had been a pretty big downer when he was growing up, and she hated Halloween with a passion. She never let him go trick-or-treating, just in case someone put razor blades in his Kit Kat — he couldn’t ever imagine her going to a Halloween party.
“Exactly.” Richie adjusted his glasses on his nose after he jumped off the counter top. “I know you hate Halloween and shit, but it’ll be fun.”
“I don’t hate Halloween.” Eddie didn’t bother to tell him off for saying that it was going to be fun again. Knowing Richie, he would start saying that more just to annoy him. “I just don’t like it.”
“You once told me that you’d rather sleep on the public bathroom floor than celebrate Halloween, Eds.” Eddie cringed at the visual. Public bathrooms were disgusting, and don’t get him started on the floor!? Ew, ew, ew, ew— “I arrest my case.”
“Okay, maybe I do hate Halloween, but that’s because it’s so boring. What? I’m supposed to dress up as something? And walk around, asking strangers for candy? And then eat that candy? That sounds horrible!”
“Sorry to break it to you, Eds, but I think we’re a tad too old to be trick-or-treating. No talking to strangers for you this year, unfortunately.”
Eddie sat down in the kitchen chair ungracefully, the plate clattering to the table in front of him. He gave Richie a deadpan look. “Ha ha,” he said sarcastically.
Richie slid into the chair opposite to him and stole a slice of toast from his plate. Eddie didn’t comment. Richie jacking his food was more common than he’d admit.
“Halloween is great, you just don’t know it yet! We will go to this party together and, since I’m the master of all things spooky, I’ll show you just how great Halloween is.” He took a bite of toast, sending crumbs flying.
Eddie nibbled on the piece of bread in contemplation. Richie watched him, his eyes wide and leg bouncing.
Finally, Eddie gave in. “I don’t have a costume.”
Richie must’ve sensed that he was beginning to consider it, and he pounced. Seeing how excited he was about Eddie going with him to this stupid party almost made his heart skip a beat.
“I can get you a discount on costumes,” he said, crumbs going everywhere. 
That was Richie’s newest gig — working at Oh My Spooky at the mall, a seasonal store that popped up every August, claiming the empty of buildings of deceased department stores, like Kmart.
“The party’s in like… two hours, Rich. Spooky is closed.”
“Right, right.” He waved his hand, dismissing the idea. “I’ll just let you borrow one of mine. We had to wear costumes on shift, right, so I have like a shit ton of costumes in my room.”
“I know, idiot. I live with you. Your room is a disaster.” 
It was true. Richie’s room was a disaster year round, but it looked like the sight of a natural disaster during the month of October. If he got desperate, Eddie was sure Richie could make a good buck by selling all the costumes he accumulated.
Richie grasped the rims of his glasses and squinted his eyes dramatically, giving Eddie a once over. Eddie had been friends with Richie long enough to know he should just let him do his thing. He continued to nibble on the toast.
Finally, their eyes met again. “But, you’re like, really fucking tiny, Eds, so—”
“Fuck off,” he said, tossing a piece of crust at his head. Richie grinned and caught it in his mouth. “I’m not really fucking tiny.”
“Aw, you are, sweetheart, you just can’t face the facts.” Richie had the audacity to lean across the table and boop Eddie on the nose. “Cute, cute, cute!”
He swatted Richie’s hand away from him. His heart was racing. Butterflies were rolling in his stomach. He felt his cheeks burning, and he was sure Richie was going to tease him about it.
Before he could, Eddie tried to cover his tracks. He narrowed his eyes and pointed threateningly at Richie. “I will murder you.”
“See! You have the Halloween spirit!” Richie leaned back in his chair, grinning wider than Eddie could remember. His stupid smile made Eddie want to smile. Fuck him. “Are you in, then? You’re coming tonight?”
Maybe it was because Richie’s smile was doing something funny to his brain, or maybe it was because he wanted to go to a party with Richie before they graduated, or maybe it was because he was a little curious as to why everyone loved Halloween, but he nodded.
“Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll come tonight.” Richie let out a little whoop and jumped up from his chair. “But I won’t enjoy it!”
“You’re so cute when you’re stubborn,” Richie said, reaching forward to boop his nose again. Eddie’s mouth ran dry because—
Fuck, Richie calling him cute was one of his favourite sounds.
“Call me cute again, and I’ll— I’ll—” Fuck, he didn’t have a comeback. Richie seemed to love the fact Eddie was rendered speechless, and laughed a little harder.
“Cute, cute, cute!”
“Asshole,” he muttered, shoving the last piece of toast into his mouth. Richie grinned brightly at that, and it was the final straw for Eddie. He felt a smile of his own spread across his face. It was hard not to smile with Richie in the room.
“Wait there. I’ll get your costume.”
Richie was already running out of the kitchen before Eddie swallowed his toast to respond. “Nothing with less fabric than—”
“Your mom’s underwear!? Got it!”
Eddie’s head fell to his hands. “No, Richard, I wasn’t, in fact, going to use my mother’s underwear as a reference, but thank you! I was going to say—”
Richie peeled back into the kitchen before Eddie could finish his sentence, two costumes strung across his arms. “Doesn’t matter. Here.”
He tossed the first costume at Eddie’s head, and he managed to catch it before a metal belt buckle could whip him in the eye. It took him less than three seconds to examine the fabric and come to a verdict.
“Absolutely fucking not, Richard. What the fuck!? Why the fuck would I want to go as sexy Robin? That makes no fucking sense!” Richie is doubled over from laughing so hard, and Eddie was finding it exceedingly difficult not to join in.
“I just wanted to see your expression,” he managed to get out between laughs. “Fucking classic!”
Eddie felt a smile pulling at his lips, and he was desperate not to let Richie see it. 
(Because, to be honest, if Richie saw the reaction he invoked in him, he never would shut up.)
(And, yes, that was it.)
(No, it had nothing to do with the fact he was helplessly in love with him and smiling at him like he hung the stars in the sky would give that away.)
(Really.)
(Eddie Kaspbrak was many things, but a liar was not one of them.)
“Why the fuck did you have this in your room!?” he questioned, hanging onto the threads of annoyance. His question made Richie laugh harder. Fuck. Knowing he was the one making Richie laugh did funny things to his heart. 
“Your mom loves role-play, didn’t you know? She— Ouch! Fuck!” Eddie had thrown the costume at Richie with a glare.
“Shut up,” he said, but it was no use. The two of them were looking at each other, and Eddie couldn’t keep his smile down any longer. He shook his head fondly and leaned back in his chair. “Please tell me you have something better than sexy Robin?”
Richie lifted up a red and blue outfit, his eyebrow raised in question. Eddie pulled a face when he realized it was supposed to be Mario from Mario Brothers. When Eddie insulted the costume, Richie looked personally offended.
“You don’t want to go as this godly man!?” Eddie didn’t ask Richie why Mario was so godly, but he took it upon himself to explain. “He saved the world — multiple times, may I add. He fights bad guys, he dodges those green shell dudes, he eats a shit ton of mushrooms, he fights for his princess, he can drive. Holy shit, Eddie, he can drive!”
In the end, Richie gave up on trying to sell the Mario costume.
The next pair of costumes to come out were Popeye the Sailorman, which got an immediate no from Eddie, and Scooby-Doo, which also got an immediate no. 
Richie stuck out his bottom lip and gave a poor impression of Scooby. “Ruh roh,” he said, his voice rough. “Reddie roesn’t rant to rear me!”
“I was unsure before, but now that’s a solid no.”
This went on for longer than Eddie would care to admit. Richie would bring out a few costumes at a time and, each time, Eddie would find something wrong with it. “I hated that cartoon.” “If I wanted to be a ghost, I’d just cut holes out of one of our sheets.” “Am I supposed to know what that character is?”
Richie was patient, and all Eddie could think of was how good he was, willing to spend forever going through costumes with him, joking all through it, never letting Eddie’s sour mood tarnish his.
Fuck, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. How his lips would curve into a smile that made him want to smile too, how his eyes sparkled like they were part of the ocean, how his freckles spanned his pale skin like stars in the sky. He couldn’t stop thinking about pressing his lips against his, or running his hands through his curls, or feeling his hot breath against his face, and—
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so far gone, it wasn’t even funny. When did he turn into a sap? Like, what the fuck?
Eddie was so thrown off guard that, when Richie came with the next costume, he said— “Yes.” Richie’s eyes widened the slightest bit, and that was when Eddie realized he had no idea what he was agreeing too. He cleared his throat and sat a bit straighter. “I mean. Maybe.”
“Oooooooookay then.” Richie adjusted his glasses on his face and continued to watch Eddie carefully. “Listen, man, if you don’t want to come tonight, that’s fine, I don’t want to make you, but—”
“No,” he said quickly. 
He didn’t want Richie thinking that he was being forced to do something he didn’t want to because that wasn’t the case. He wanted to go. He wanted to see why Richie liked Halloween so much, and he wanted to get dressed up in a shitty costume and drink shitty alcohol and eat candy that may or may not make him sick. It was going to be fun.
Besides, it meant he got to spend the evening with Richie, and that was good enough for him.
“What’s the next costume?” Richie cocked an eyebrow, and Eddie realized he had no idea what he had been saying only a minute ago. “Sorry, what did you say? I was distracted by the fact that you own a concerning amount of Halloween costumes. I mean, seriously, Rich, this is kind of baffling.”
Richie slid into the kitchen chair opposite from him again. “I have some bad news for you, Eds.” He looked almost… serious. It threw Eddie, just a little bit.
“What? What is it? What’s wrong?”
He leaned forward, stretching his arms across the table and taking hold of Eddie’s hand. All the air left Eddie’s lungs at the contact because, shit, he was holding Richie’s hand. It was cold and clammy, but that seemed to fit him perfectly.
Finally, Richie spoke.
“That’s it. That’s all my costumes. Looks like you have two options from here; go stark naked, or wear what you usually do and say you’re dressed as a nerd.”
Eddie flicked the palm of his hand and crossed his arms. “First off, fuck you. Second off, fuck you.”
Richie smirked. “I take it you don’t want to go naked? C’mon, you’re depriving the world of—“
“No, I’m not going naked, you dumbass. How is going naked a viable solution to this problem anyways!?”
Richie winked. “You caught me. I just wanna see you naked, sweetheart.”
Eddie tried to keep his expression blank, but he could feel his face flushing. Fuck Richie, fuck his ability to flirt with anyone, fuck his stupid body for giving away how affected he would get from his flirting.
“I mean, I do have one last option.”
When Richie returned to the kitchen, he was carrying a yellow onesie. Upon further inspection, he noticed a tail in the shape of a lightning bolt, and pointed ears with black tips, and—
“Pikachu!!”
Eddie moved across the room quickly and dragged his fingertips over the fabric. He was right, the costume was for Pikachu, and it was perfect. He loved the little guy because how could you not? He was a badass, and an immeasurable amount of cute.
“Sold!” Eddie said, snatching the costume fully from Richie’s hands. “Shit, why didn’t you start with this one? You know how much I love Pikachu.”
Maybe Richie was right earlier when he called him a nerd. If liking Pokémon more than he liked his own mother made him a nerd, then so be it!
“Yeah, well, it comes with a catch.” For the first time, Eddie realized how unsure and hesitant Richie looked. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot and had his hands buried in his pockets.
Richie was actually nervous.
“Please tell me that the butt isn’t cut out or something.” Eddie flopped the costume over to check and — nope. All pieces to the costume were there.
“No, there’s nothing wrong with it,” he assured Eddie. “It just isn’t alone.”
“... What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Richie puffed out his cheeks. “It means that it’s part of a set. I, uh, have the costume that matches it. Hold on.” Seconds later, Richie reappeared with his costume in hand.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re going as Ash?”
“Hell yeah, man. Gotta catch ‘em all, you know?”
“That makes no fucking sense, Richie, so no, I don’t know.” Eddie tried to ignore how his stomach was twisting. If Richie was going as Ash and he was going as Pikachu, and Richie claimed it was part of a set, that meant— “Wait. Is this a couples costume?”
The words slipped out of Eddie’s mouth and a cold dread settled over him.
Fuck. Just mentioning the word ‘couple’ to Richie felt like he was crossing a line — a line that he drew, one that he was desperate not to cross. Don’t cross this line, he told himself, or you’ll fuck up your friendship.
Richie’s expression was one he hadn’t seen before, and it made his heart race for a completely different reason than before. Was it weird that he suggested it was a couples costume? Or was he being paranoid? Because it felt like mentioning the word ‘couple’ to him was normal, but then again—
“Uh. Yeah. It came as a set, like… a couple costume.” He adjusted his glasses on his nose — a nervous habit. He was looking at him, like he was waiting for him to say something. Eddie’s mouth had run dry and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
“Oh.” He was racking his brain, trying to figure out the best response in this situation. Finally, he settled on an answer. “Well, that’s okay. I can always wear the ghost costume, or — even better — the sexy Robin.”
Richie didn’t smile at his attempt at a joke. In fact, he looked almost hurt. “What? You’re not going to wear Pikachu?”
Eddie was confused. Of course he wasn’t going to wear a couples costume with Richie — that felt like it was crossing a million lines. Maybe if he wasn’t completely in love with him, it would be a different story, but he was in love with him. 
“No.”
“But you were excited about it?” Richie’s next smile was forced — Eddie could tell by the way it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why not?”
This felt like some weird alternate reality to Eddie. This wasn’t happening, was it? Richie wasn’t asking him to explain why he didn’t want to wear a couples costume with him, right? He couldn’t exactly say ‘because I’m in love with you, and this is crossing that invisible line I set so I don’t fuck things up.’ 
He was screwed.
So, he lied.
“People will think that we’re… together if we show up in a couples costume.” Now that he said it out loud, it didn’t sound like a lie, and it didn’t feel like one either.
Yeah. Shit. People will think we’re together, and the night will be filled with Richie indirectly shooting me down all night.
He could see it now; Richie would explain to everyone how they’re not together because how could they be? He couldn’t love that mess of a human! 
Shit. This quickly replaced his fear of crossing the invisible line. He doubted he could handle a whole evening filled with Richie explaining to strangers how they were not — and would never be — a couple. 
Richie’s answer felt like a punch in the gut.
“Is there a problem with that? With people thinking we’re together?”
This was a sick joke, Eddie decided. Richie knows I’m in love with him and he’s being an ass about it.
Except, Richie wasn’t an ass — not about things that mattered, anyways. Sure, he would joke about fucking his mom and try to annoy him to death, but he wasn’t an asshole about important things.
“Yeah, of course that’s a problem.” His words may have come out harsher than he intended. Eddie shuffled awkwardly and looked anywhere that wasn’t at Richie. “We aren’t together. We’re… We’re friends.”
“Right. Friends.” Eddie’s gaze flicked to meet Richie’s from how deflated he sounded. It must’ve been his mind playing tricks on him though, because Richie was beaming and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “There you have it, Eds! We’re friends, so it doesn’t matter. This is just what friends do. I know you have, like, zero childhood friends and you don’t know this shit, but—”
“Fuck off,” Eddie said, but his voice didn’t have any venom in it. Richie was right — going in a couples costume together wasn’t a big deal for two friends. They were just friends. Bros. Pals. Buds. “Fine, you’re right, I’m being weird.” Because I’m totally fucking in love with you. “I’m going to change.”
Richie’s smile made warmth bubble up inside of him. “There ye have it, good ol’ chap! Time to get our spook on!”
.
Eddie was incredibly nervous, and he blamed the asshole beside him.
Richie looked good, which was extremely strange considering he was dressed in the Ash costume. But he also wore a grin so wide that it made Eddie’s cheeks hurt from just looking at it. His eyes were dancing with excitement. He looked so carefree in that moment, walking down the street with a skip in his step, and it made Eddie’s chest warm.
He was also nervous because he hadn’t gone to a party for a really long time, not since they were both freshmen and Richie was set on dragging Eddie everywhere he went. He would be the first to admit that he wasn’t in tune with current pop songs, and his heart lurched when he realized he might not know any song.
No, that was ridiculous. Richie blasted pop songs at two in the morning some days, so he would at least know those songs.
“Did you eat something before we left?” Eddie asked, breaking the silence of the night. Richie was a few paces ahead of him as they walked to the party, humming what sounded like Space Jam theme song. “Drinking on an empty stomach can be dangerous, you know, so...”
Richie turned around and continued to walk backwards. He was smiling softly and it made Eddie’s heart flip. It wasn’t often that Richie looked so open — so vulnerable. Usually he looked like the little asshole he was.
The change made Eddie feel completely out of his depth. 
He loved it.
“You take such good care of me, my Eds Spagheds.” He blew a kiss. Eddie scowled.
“I just don’t want to be dragging you home drunk, fucker. Don’t mistake my words for concern. It’s purely selfish.”
“Right, of course.” Richie spun back around. “I did eat though. Wouldn’t want to have you carrying me home. We’d never make it up the block.”
“Shut up. Like you could carry me.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. “No, Richie, don’t even—“
It was too late.
Richie was laughing like a maniac when he scooped Eddie off the ground and into his arms. Eddie clutched at the collar of his blue and white striped shirt to balance himself and Richie’s arms wound under his knees and around his back. All the air in his lungs came out in a whoosh and he could feel his blood rushing to his cheeks.
His knuckles were white from how tightly he was holding his collar. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure Richie could hear it.
Richie took off in a sprint and Eddie clung to him out of fear, all the while shouting for him to put him down. 
Yet, he wanted the exact opposite of that. 
He really didn’t want Richie to put him down.
He could feel each one of Richie’s breaths ghost along his face, and he could feel his palms digging into his back. His body was warm and he smelled distinctly of syrup, which was fitting, considering he once witnessed him eat a full box of Eggos in ten minutes.
From the angle he was in, it looked like he was glowing. The streetlights blurred around him. The sharpness of his jaw and the slope of his nose stole the breath from his lungs. It felt like his whole body was buzzing from being pressed against him.
He was gone. 
So far gone.
.
As they approached the house the party was being held at, Richie set Eddie back down on his feet, a smug smile tugging at his lips.
“Easy peasy,” he said, sounding slightly breathless.
Eddie tried to keep his expression blank, but fuck, Richie made him want to smile. 
The closer they got, the more nervous he became.
He pulled at the hem of his yellow sleeve. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to come with Richie tonight; it seemed like he was getting nervous about everything. He was nervous about the stupid couples costume, and he was nervous about how he acted with Richie earlier, and he was nervous about the music, and dancing, and—
“It’ll be fine, my Eds Spagheds.” Richie slung his arm around his shoulders as they made their was up the driveway to the house the party was being hosted at. “We look smashing. We’ll be the bells of the ball.”
“We do not look smashing. We’re dressed as characters from a children’s cartoon. Which brings me to my next point; why the fuck is Ash and Pikachu a couples costume? Isn’t Ash, like, Pikachu’s owner or some shit? And isn’t Pikachu and Pokémon, which is basically an animal? This seems entirely inappropriate for a couples costume, considering they’re not romantic and one is an animal, so—”
His thoughts died off when Richie leaned forward and planted a wet kiss to Eddie’s cheek. He jolted away and gave him a wild look because—
“What the fuck was that!?” Eddie swiped at the slobber left behind on his cheek while his heart raced. He wanted to shove Richie against the front door and kiss him dizzy.
“You’re just so cute, cute, cute! Look at you — dressed as lil’ ol’ Pikachu, ranting about how unsexy you are. Whew. Taking my breath away.”
Eddie scowled. Richie was a flirt — he knew that from day one — but he was laying it on thick right now, and he really wasn’t in the best mood to deal with that. All while Richie was flirting with him, he had to live with the knowledge that it was all play, and it hurt.
With that, they entered the house.
.
Eddie will admit; Halloween was pretty sweet.
(Which was an awesome pun, by the way, because his stomach was currently hurting from eating so many sweet pieces of candy.)
Beverly burst out laughing when she originally saw his and Richie’s costumes, commenting how cute they were.
“I’m not cute,” Eddie insisted. Richie attempted to boop him on the nose again, and he flipped him off.
Stan rolled his eyes.
Eddie spent the first part of the night dancing with their group of friends, and drinking shitty alcohol, and eating way too much candy. 
While they danced, Richie hovered by his side. Every once and awhile, he’d lower his lips to his ear and whisper to him, each time causing goosebumps to erupt along his arms. None of the whispers were of importance; it was just Richie fucking around, talking about different costumes they saw, or bringing up one of their jokes, or doing a poor impersonation of a cowboy singing the lyrics of the song blaring from the speakers.
Without fail, Richie was able to get Eddie laughing. It didn’t take too long for Eddie to feel more comfortable moving around the basement (“and yes, Richie, is moist, thank you very much”) and enjoying himself.
That was the thing about Richie. He was always able to bring Eddie out of his shell, encouraging him to be brave and be himself. His carefree attitude made Eddie want to be carefree too. 
When the dance floor (basement) got too crowded, their little group moved to sit on a pair of couches on the (not moist) ground floor of the house. It was a tight squeeze, but all seven of them managed to fit on the furniture. Eddie wasn’t going to complain about the fact Richie was practically in his lap because, truth be told, being pressed against him wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Richie had his arm draped around his shoulders and legs on his, squishing him into the armrest. As the night stretched on, he became louder, his jokes grew worse, and his mouth trashier. Eddie loved how his cheeks flushed red, and how his hands were clammy on his arm, and how he seemed to laugh more than talk.
When Bev started talking about an upcoming movie she wanted to see, Richie turned his full attention to him.
“What do you think, Eds? Having fun?”
Not wanting to give Richie the satisfaction of being right, he wrinkled his nose. “It’s alright, I guess.”
Richie saw through it easily. “Fuck off. You’re having the time of your life.”
“Fine. I’m having fun.”
“Ha. Fucking told you it would be fun!”
Eddie was about to shoot back at him, but a guy from his sociology class leaned over the couch and poked him in the shoulder, drawing his attention away from him. “Hey, Eddie, right? Candy?” He lifted a giant bowl of individually wrapped candies and chocolates.
He glanced in the bowl and tried to suppress a frown. The one thing he did hate about Halloween was the ungodly amounts of nutty chocolate everywhere. Of course, the one food he was allergic to had to be in every goddamn chocolate bar sold on this dumb holiday.
And, worst of all, was trying to figure out a way to explain to strangers that no, he didn’t want their candy and, no, it wasn’t because he was on a diet, and, no, it didn’t matter that they only had a little bit of nuts in them. Then, he’d spend the next ten minutes trying to educate them about allergies because they were confused, and it usually ended up with him fending off passive-aggressive comments from them. 
People that didn’t know him seemed to love getting personally offended by his allergy.
Before Eddie could respond to the offered chocolate, Richie leaned forward.
“We’re more sophisticated than that, Chad.” Richie pushed the orange bowl away from the two of them. “We brought our own.” As if to demonstrate the fact they had a secret stash of chocolate, Richie pulled out a Kit Kat from his left pocket and waved it.
When Chad was out of ear-shot, Eddie turned to Richie. “But we didn’t bring our own.”
Richie unwrapped the chocolate bar and split it in two as he spoke. “Maybe you didn’t. Plus, that dude doesn’t need to know the real reason you don’t want to eat his precious chocolate.” He lifted half of the chocolate bar in offering. “You want?” Richie stuffed the chocolate bar between Eddie’s parted lips. The action felt extremely intimate and made Eddie flush. He hoped the darkness hid it. “People are always assholes about that shit, so I came prepared.”
Eddie’s heart felt like it had flipped a few times in his chest. Richie knew how uncomfortable it made him to explain his medical condition to completely random strangers, and managed to come up with an explanation to save him from that.
Fuck, he loved him.
“Aaaaaaand,” Richie drawled, patting his left pocket, “there’s a lot more where that came from. I’ll fend off any nut carrying assholes for you.”
Eddie’s expression softened. He felt overwhelmed with affection by that simple action.
“I— Uh— Thank you, Rich.”
“Anything for you, my lil’ Pikachu.”
.
Eddie wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. His sides hurt from laughing so much. His head was a little fuzzy from the alcohol. He ate way too many half-melted Kit Kats from Richie’s pocket.
Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of Richie. He was a very animated storyteller and managed to make any story hilarious, even if said story was about him.
“And I swear — I swear, guys — I never saw the lil’ shit run faster than in that moment. Fuck, I wish I would’ve got that on video and sent it to Guinness World Records or some shit. He probably broke the sound barrier.”
The other five Losers were in stitches around them, unable to form coherent sentences. Even Eddie could barely speak, and Richie was ripping into him. 
“Hey, asshole, it was terrifying,” he argued. “I swear to god, that dog had rabies.”
“It was a Pomeranian, first off, and it had just finished a bowl of whipped cream that you gave it!”
“I didn’t give it whipped cream.”
“No?”
“No! My bowl filled with whipped cream merely fell to the ground, and I was too slow at picking it up.”
Somehow, Eddie’s version of the story made Bev laugh harder. Richie was barely keeping his laughs contained, and a goofy smile was stretched across his face.
“I’m going to get another drink.” Eddie pushed Richie’s legs off of him and stood up from the couch. As soon as he did, he missed the warmth that came with cramming beside him. 
Richie hooked his ankle around his before he could leave and threw a Poké Ball at him. It bounced against his stomach and rolled to the floor. Before he could ask what the fuck he was doing, Richie gave him a shit-eating grin.
“Caught you! I told ya’ — I gotta catch ‘em all!”
It was a stupid joke, but it made Eddie grin.
Fuck this. Fuck his dumb feelings. Fuck Richie Tozier and his cute face and his stupid jokes.
Eddie turned and made a break for it before he accidentally said something stupid in response. The further away he moved from Richie, the better. He needed time to refocus, and the drink table was his salvation. 
Except, it wasn’t.
He was in the middle of pouring himself a glass of orange juice (which was definitely only at the party for mixing purposes) when a girl he didn’t know approached him.
“You two are cute, by the way!”
He barely heard her over the roaring music. 
“What?”
When Eddie did make out what she was saying, he almost wished he couldn’t.
“You and your Ash! You two make a cute couple!”
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Oh, fuck.
Abort mission. Abort mission.
Eddie’s face felt exactly how it did after spending a whole day in the sun without sunblock. He was burning and—
Fuck!!! He knew this would happen!!!!!!
“Oh, uh, well—” He stumbled over his words, suddenly too shocked to make a full sentence. “We’re actually not dating — Ash and I.” He pointed to his yellow chest. “I know. Confusing! Right!?” His laughter was forced because dammit, it felt like he could explode from embarrassment. 
(Not because someone mistook him for dating Richie, because, damn, that was the dream, but because he wanted to be dating Richie and now had to explain how he wasn’t. It was all too close to the feeling category for it not to be embarrassing.)
Eddie continued to speak. “We’re just wearing a couples costume because this is all we had. We’re not really together. He’s, uh… Well, he’s the Ash to my Pikachu… because they’re not romantic partners… because one’s an animal… and they’re fictional.”
The girl raised her eyebrow and took a long sip of her drink. Finally, she said, “well, you could’ve fooled me.”
What the fuck did that mean?!
By the time he made it back to the couch, he was still thinking about it. 
His stomach was twisting because that random girl’s words could only mean one thing; he, Eddie Kaspbrak, was terrible at pretending not to love Richie Tozier.
It hit him like a punch to the gut. 
He was too obvious with his feelings. He was flirting too much, smiling too hard, laughing too easily. If some random girl was convinced they were dating because of how big of a crush Eddie had on Richie, then he was fucked.
He sunk into the couch, his jaw slack and hands shaking. He needed to get a grip — on his response now, but also his massive crush on his roommate.
Within three seconds flat, Eddie came up with a set of rules to get him through this evening.
1) Don’t look at Richie. 2) Don’t think about how nice it is to have his arm around your shoulders. 3) Avoid physical contact at all costs. 4) Don’t laugh at any of his stupid jokes. 5) Insult him!!! Insult him to throw him off the scent!!!
It was a solid plan.
It lasted for approximately five minutes.
Richie was telling the story of the time he nearly got a concussion from trying to kill a spider in the shower, and it was getting harder and harder not to laugh, especially when he pulled out his silly voices. 
Rule number 4! Rule number 4!
Richie laughed at his own joke and threw his head back from the force of it. Richie laughing was always endearing to Eddie; his whole body seemingly was thrown into it. His head would fly back, and his arms would wrap around his torso, and his knees would pull closer to his chest the slightest bit.
The corners of Eddie’s lips quirked up. His laugh was infectious — and that was the only infectious thing Eddie welcomed into his life.
Even after he finished laughing, Richie kept his head thrown back, a smile of sheer joy on his stupid face. The conversation continued on without them, moving to talk about Stan’s half-burned lab report from a Bunsen burner accident. Richie rolled his neck, shifting so his cheek was pressed against Eddie’s shoulder.
And there went rule number 3.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than it was moments before. The intensity in his gaze made Eddie’s mouth run dry. “You seem… off.”
“I’m fine.” He hoped his smile didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Don’t worry about it.”
“We can go if you want?” Richie offered. “I think it’s passed your wittle bedtime.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the smirk. Before he could respond, he remembered rule number 5.
Insult the shit out of him.
“The only thing ‘wittle’ between us is your dick.”
Yeah, what the fuck was that?
As soon as the words left his mouth, Eddie realized his grave mistake.
Richie’s eyes had widened and his head lifted off his shoulder, as if, he too, realized how massive of a mistake Eddie just made.
Eddie tried to backtrack.
“Not that your dick is between us.” Fuck, nope, that wasn’t the right thing to say. “Or little.” Nope, that wasn’t the right thing to say either. “But, I mean, it’s not like I’ve seen it because— Fuck. Never mind.” He admitted defeat and buried his face in his hands.
It took approximately three seconds for Richie to break the tension and burst out laughing.
“Jesus, Eds, how much have you had to drink?!”
Clearly, not enough.
.
After Eddie tried to drown himself in an ungodly amount of Kit Kats from Richie’s pocket, his resolve strengthened.
He would not fuck up anymore tonight! Richie was a bro-only zone. He was his best friend and roommate — nothing more! Richie + rules = success.
He wouldn’t laugh at his jokes. He wasn’t going to lean into his touches. He wasn’t going to smile at him like he hung the stars. He wasn’t going to—
It all went out the window when Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie’s middle and leaned into him.
“What the fuck, Richard?” His tone may have been harsher than he intended.
“I caught you,” he said, his voice muffled against his shoulder. “I threw a Poké Ball at you. You’re mine now. It’s the rules.”
“You already used the Poké Ball joke on me earlier, smart ass.”
Still, he made no move to push Richie off his shoulder. Maybe he could let rule number 3 slide. Just this once.
He couldn’t pull his gaze away from Richie’s face, either. He really loved him like this; soft, touchy, and carefree.
(Then again, he also loved the boy who earned the nickname Trashmouth, and picked fights he knew he couldn’t win, and swung bats at bullies.)
(He loved the fiery Richie, and the annoying Richie, and the stressed Richie, and the terrified Richie.)
(He loved his terrible sense of direction, and his late night dancing, and his ability to stub his toe on every piece of furniture they owned.)
(He loved him for his emotions, and for his heart, and yes even for his terrible jokes.)
(He loved Richie.)
(All of Richie.)
(Every Richie.)
Eddie’s jaw clenched and he shifted an inch away from Richie, his emotions suddenly hitting him so hard that it hurt. 
The plan!!!! Remember the fucking plan!!!!!
“Like what you see?” Richie wiggled his eyebrows. “I know I’m pretty, but no need to stare, Eds.” Eddie jolted away from him and felt his heart lodge into his throat.
Richie caught him staring at him.
Fuck. Abort! Abort!
“Yeah, you’re pretty. Pretty fucking annoying.”
Richie grinned. “There he is! I was afraid my wittle dick scared you off.”
Eddie wanted to fade into the darkness.
“I thought we both agreed never to speak of that again.”
“I did no such thing.”
.
It happened again.
No, not the dick thing. 
The ‘you’re a cute couple’ thing.
It was after the majority of the group went home, leaving Beverly, Ben, Richie, and Eddie to occupy a single couch. Why half the remaining group didn’t spread to the second couch was beyond him.
Someone he didn’t know slid into the couch opposite of them and launched into an in-depth conversation with Richie surrounding accuracy of historical events portrayed in some sort of video game. 
Eddie couldn’t bring himself to even pretend to pay attention to what they were saying. All he could do was watch how Richie’s eyes lit up as he spoke, and how his lips would twist with each word, and how his nose wrinkled as he spoke, and how his gaze carried an intensity that made his heart pound, and—
“When did you two start dating?” 
Eddie jolted away from Richie, putting as much space between them as possible (which, granted, wasn’t much considering they were trapped on this couch with Beverly and Ben).
“What?!” Eddie said quickly, his eyes wide and heart racing. “No. No, we’re not dating. We’re not together. Nope, no way.”
He never understood how his palms got so sweaty so quickly in these situations. He rubbed them on the yellow fabric along his legs vigorously.
“My sweet Eds,” Richie cooed as he leaned closer to him, his voice mockingly sweet.
Eddie wasn’t having it. He batted Richie’s face away from his own and scowled. 
“No. We’re not dating.”
Richie pouted. “Is it because of my wittle dick—”
“I will punch you,” Eddie warned.
“But I wanna make you my luvah, Eds. My Eds Spagheds.” He turned to his friend. “Don’t listen to him, Johnathan. Eddie and I are very much together, confirmed by this awesome couples costume we are wearing.”
Eddie scowled and shoved Richie onto Beverly’s lap. “Fuck off, Richard.”
“I’m tellin’ it how it is! We’re two peas in a pod!”
The friend on the opposite couch gave them a wary smile. “Good, because, I mean, you two are practically dripping with sexual tension, and I was getting a little worried that I crossed a line and mentioned something I shouldn’t have, but I assumed it was fine because you’re wearing a couples costume for fuck sake, and—”
“No!” Eddie sat as straight as he could manage it. His heart was pounding in his chest. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. Because fuck you, Johnathan, you did mention something you shouldn’t have!!!! “Richie is fucking with you. We aren’t together, or lovers, or whatever other shit he said. We’re just friends. That’s all we are, all we have been, and all we ever will be.” To really drive home the point, he stuck his nose in the air. “Thank god! I mean, does anyone ever see me dating that!?”
Finally sticking to the plan! Eddie thought triumphantly. Now they really won’t think I’m into Richie. Ha! I wi— Wait, why the fuck is Richie running out of the room?
Richie had pushed off of the couch and took off towards the backdoor without another word. While Eddie couldn’t see his face, he knew exactly what he was feeling from a single glance at him. Tense body, shaking shoulders, uncharacteristically silent—
He was mad. Or upset. Or both.
“Wait, where’s Richie going?” He turned to Beverly, who was staring at him with parted lips. “What happened?”
“I love you, Eddie, but sometimes you’re such a dumbass.”
Eddie quickly ran through what he said moments before and immediately realized his mistake. In his rush to throw everyone off his scent, he insulted Richie.
“Oh, fuck.”
Eddie was quick to follow Richie outside. It was colder out now than before and the only light cast on the street came from a dimly lit street lamp. He caught sight of him across the street, already starting to make the journey back home.
Eddie wanted to hit his head against the nearest brick wall. He was an idiot.
“Richie!” he called, jogging after him. The other man didn’t turn when he called his name. Hell, he didn’t even flinch! Eddie pumped his legs faster. “Richie, wait up. Rich! Richie!” He finally caught up with him, but hovered a few paces away. “Where are you going? What happened?”
He very well knew what happened, but those were the first words out of his mouth.
“Not now, Eddie. I’m going home. I’ll talk to you later.” He didn’t turn to look at him. 
Eddie was terrified — he doubted he had ever been more terrified than in that moment. Seeing Richie walking away from him, clearly hurt, scared him.
“Richie, I’m sorry.” He reached forward and caught hold of his elbow. Richie jolted it out of his grasp, making hurt flare up in Eddie’s chest. “I didn’t mean to insult you, I just—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sure anyone would love to date you.”
Just saying those words out loud made Eddie’s stomach role. Not anyone. Him. He wanted to be dating him.
Finally, Richie stopped walking. He spun around to face Eddie, his face screwed up with emotions. Eddie could see anger in there — it was the way his shoulders were hunched together and his fists closed at his sides — but he could see hurt too. Definitely hurt.
“Do you really think I’m upset because I thought you were implying I was undateable?” His voice was rough and thick with emotion. Eddie’s chest felt like it was going to cave in.
Richie was holding back tears.
“I— What? I mean… Of course? Why else are you upset about?”
Richie opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words followed. Eddie shifted back and forth on his feet, waiting for the shoe to drop.
Finally, he spoke. He sounded so tired and so done. “You know what? Never mind, Eddie. That’s why I’m upset. Of course I’m upset because I’m undateable! Not because of any other reason. You’re so right.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Richard, and can smell your sarcasm.” That didn’t make the most sense, but neither one of them were in the mood to point that out. “I want to make up for what I said, but I can’t if you won’t tell me! If it isn’t because I insulted you, then… what? What’s wrong?”
“‘We’re just friends. That’s all we are, all we have been, and all we ever will be,’” Richie said, throwing Eddie’s earlier words right back in his face. Eddie had to suppress a flinch hearing them come from Richie’s mouth.
They hurt.
He swallowed thickly. “Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it? We’re… We’re just friends.”
Richie rubbed the bridge of his nose and tilted his head to glance at the night sky. After a long moment, he spoke. “I know. You love reminding me of that fact.” He sighed and locked eyes with Eddie. “It’s okay. I’m just being… me. Go back in and have fun.”
“You’re fucking kidding,” he said hotly. “I’m not leaving you when you’re clearly upset, and especially not for a Halloween party.” He stepped closer. “I care about you, Rich, and I want to help. I’m sorry that I upset you, and I really want to—”
“I love you.” The words froze Eddie to the ground. Richie’s eyes widened, like he, too, was surprised by them. “I— Fuck. Forget it.” He shook his head. “You know what? No! I said it. I mean it. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts, and I know that’s ridiculous, but it’s true. And… And I get it, okay? I know you’re not interested. I know we’re just friends — you don’t need to remind me every five minutes, by the way, — but I’m so in love with you, Eddie. And—”
“Wait, hold the fuck up.” Eddie held his hand up, palm towards Richie. His fingers were shaking. He was sure his heart was about to give out from how fast it was racing. His mouth was inexplicably dry. “You— You love me?”
Richie’s eyes were wide. “Uhm… I— I—”
Eddie couldn’t tell anyone where the confidence came from, but he stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of them. The air left his lungs. He struggled to find the words, but he decided he didn’t really need words for this moment. And, finally— 
He surged forward, capturing Richie’s lips with his own. The kiss was short and shallow — it was more of a brush of the lips than a kiss, if he was being honest — but it made his head spin.
Eddie pulled away, his eyes wide and his breath coming out in small pants. His hands were clutching at the collar of Richie’s blue and white shirt. His legs felt weak under him.
His eyes scanned Richie’s face, taking in the slight part to his lips, and the flush of his cheeks, and the wideness of his eyes. He was looking at Eddie in pure shock, and that was when he found his voice again.
“Richie, I love you, too.”
A long beat of silence passed between them before Richie’s head dipped down. Their lips connected for another kiss — this one much longer and sweeter than before. Richie’s hands cupped the side of Eddie’s face, cradling it gently. His ached from the amount of love and affection he had for the man in front of him.
The kiss stole all the air from Eddie’s lungs and all the thoughts from Eddie’s mind. When Richie pulled away, his lips were curled into a wide smile — a true, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle and seemingly reached into Eddie’s chest and squeezed his heart.
He shook his head, his dark curls bobbing across his forehead. Richie gestured exuberantly towards the house they both ran from. “What the fuck was thaaaaaat!?”
Eddie stepped out of Richie’s grasp, his hands flying into his hair, panicking to hell. “Shit! I was trying to throw you off my trail! You know, like, try to be a dick to you so you don’t think I’m totally into you! Which I am, by the way — totally into you — like an embarrassing amount. And I just—”
“You, Eddie Kaspbrak, are a huge asshole and I love you for it.” Richie stepped forward wearing a silly grin. The hand that had been tenderly holding Eddie’s cheek booped Eddie on the nose.
“What the fuck, Rich?” He wrinkled his nose. Richie didn’t pay any mind to Eddie’s reaction — he pulled the shorter man into a crushing hug and rested his head on top of his.
“I caught you, Eds. You’re my lil’ Pikachu.”
Eddie scowled. “You’re a loser. I’m in love with a loser.”
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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pocketfulofpolin · 5 years
Text
Protector (9-1-1 fic)
Part One | Part Two | AO3
Chapter Three Miracle
“Are you still not talking to me?”
The seventeen-year-old walked into the room of her seven-year-old brother. There was a small body-shaped mound underneath the blue covers. She rolled her eyes, as she sat down at the edge, letting it dip slightly. She poked at various points on the lump, which issues a few quiet laughs, which the boy attempted to hide.
“So you are alive under there,” Maddie said, as she pulled down the top. Her brother attempted to bring the covers back up, failing as his sister kept her grip. He shot her a glare (as menacing as a child could try to actually send) as she slowly slid up in the bed. His hair stuck up at various angles, which Maddie attempted to smooth down. “You have to talk to me, Evan. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
“Why do you even care?” Evan asked, pouting and trying not to cry. “You’re gonna leave.”
“It’s just college, Evan. I’m not even leaving for a year!” Maddie replied, moving to sit next to him completely. She wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders. Eventually, he scooted back to snuggle into her side. “I won’t even be leaving you for that long. I plan on staying nearby, so I can visit you every weekend. That’s why I only applied to nearby schools.”
“But what if you don’t wanna come back?”
Maddie ran her fingers through his hair.
“Want to know what I want to write my essay about?” She watched as he nodded. “About how much I adore being your big sister.”
Evan smiled, closing his eyes and leaning into her shoulder. Maddie pressed a kiss into his locks of hair, as she worried whether he would be okay without her there constantly. Without their parent’s attention, she had taken it upon herself to ensure that he was well protected. She knew that she needed to go to college - that she wanted to become a nurse, to help others.
Yet - holding her brother seven years ago for the first time had caused her to realize that he was a miracle.
( - - - )
Miracle.
Buck had been called that by his sister once before. She had explained to him - just before the first night she spent away in dorms - that from the moment she had held him for the first time she had been smitten. He had always wondered what he would feel if he were to hold his own child. He had never expected the fact he would know so soon.
Sitting in the hospital, Buck held his daughter in his arms. He cradled her head gently, his arms lose around her, but also tight enough to keep her safe. He attempted not to release any of the tears which had formed, upon finally being able to cradle the most precious person who had entered his life so suddenly. His attempt failed, just as his attempted has in the past (watching the military official and his daughter reunite at the school concert came to mind).
Buck knew that he needed to leave the hospital soon, to arrange everything he would need once they left. There had been no communication from his so-called work family, which Buck took to mean he truly was no longer considered part of them. It stung, although the silence from his sister was truly the worst part of everything. He refused to reach out, he had made the decision to step up for himself. Even if he knew he needed help, he was stubborn and refused to ask in case they rejected him.
Them.
Buck looked down, examining his daughters’ features. It would no longer just be ‘him’. Eddie had once told him that he had used ‘I’ a lot during his apologies. He vowed that would no longer happen. There was now a new Buckley, who needed him more than anyone else. Buck could not be the version of himself which had arrived in LA all those years ago, looking for nothing more than a warm body pressed against for a night. He was now a father - a title he had long thought would not be possible. He allowed himself a moment to compose himself as he embraced his daughter, silently promising her the world.
( - - - )
There had been a reluctance to leave the hospital.
Buck had spent three days there, refusing to leave his newborn’s side. The medical team had eventually relented after the first twenty-four hours, knowing that Buck could not be moved. Eventually, the combined efforts of two of the nurses (Jem, and one of her older colleagues who had three teenage sons) had forced him from his position next to her crib.
‘You need to go home. Shower. Change.’ Jem had stated, as she had practically shoved him from the room. ‘Alice will be in our care. Besides, I am certain you need to arrange somewhere for her to sleep.’
He had no idea where to start. Buck knew that he would need at least the basics, to see him through until he could figure out his finances, and actually research how to look after a newborn child. He was determined to succeed, in a way he had not felt since he had to complete his recertification a few months before. Returning to his apartment, Buck felt a wave of troubled emotions. There were no signs that anyone had tried to see him, another indication that he had been forgotten by those he cared most about in the world.
Time past by while the firefighter drenched himself in the shower and then walked down the stairs whilst pulling on a clean sweater. There was a duffle bag packed, filled with supplies he would need over the next couple of days. Buck hoped that visiting a couple of local stores that specialized in newborns and toddlers would help him feel less… hopeless. There was still every urge within him to break down to see his team and ask them for assistance. With the situation between them all still so delicate, Buck did not want to add another element that could cause it to break completely.
He needed to show everyone that he could cope without leaning on them. They all had their own lives. Their own families outside of work. For the first time, he felt as though he would now have a purpose from the moment his shift ended. Reaching for his phone, Buck knew there was still one person who could help him through everything. One person who would be on his side, and help him figure out what he needed to do. Although he was resigned to complete this alone, he was also terrified he would make a mistake.
“Hey, Carla… are you free?”
And suddenly, the idea of spending the next four days attempting to arrange things no longer seemed like a daunting task.
( - - - )
Howie ‘Chimney’ Han never believed that he would see the role of acting captain so soon after his first stint. A virus had spread out amongst the families of the 118 fire crew who served under Captain Nash, causing a lot of disturbance over the week. Chimney, Eddie and Hen had remained unscathed at first, arriving for a shift a week prior to being told by the night captain that Bobby and Buck had both called out.
It had started - as always - with a gathering at the Grant/Nash residence. Unknown to the adults of the house, Harry had been feeling unwell for a day or so. Unwilling to tell his mom or step-father, he had kept quiet. Harry had wanted to see Denny and Christopher, the three had a planned video game battle to keep. This meant that it was no surprise when May fell sick, followed by Bobby in the days after.
Maddie had been the next to fall, messaging Chimney soon after he had found out about Bobby and Buck, telling him to stay away from her for the next few days. During the same shift, Hen had been messaged by Karen to say that both she and Denny were having a movie-sick day. Soon after, Eddie had been contacted by Christopher’s school to say the boy needed to be sent home.
Each member of the 118 had been so focused on their respective families or responsibilities, they had not stopped to consider the one enigma within the situation. Buck had not been at the gathering, having told the hosts that he already had other plans. The firehouse was quiet with temporary staff brought in to help the remaining family members who were still standing.
As the week slowly came to a close, the virus subsided, and those affected returned to a state of normality.
Which was, of course, the reason why everything would soon turn.
( - - - )
“Feeling better, Cap?” Hen’s voice caught Bobby’s attention as he walked into the building. He smiled, thankful to be back at work. Chimney followed her, throwing a hand on Bobby’s shoulder as a greeting.
“It’s good to be back,” Bobby replied, “pleased to see the firehouse didn’t burn down during my absence,” he joked as the three walked together.
“Captain Han made a glorious return! Did you have any doubts?” Chim chimed in, with Hen rolling her eyes. A snort came from behind them. Eddie stood there in his civilian clothes, having spent most of the week with his son. “You wound me.”
“How are the kids, Cap?” Eddie asked. “Christopher went back to school today. He’s spent most of the week trying to convince me that ice cream is a healing force. I blame Buck for that, actually.”
Bobby let out a laugh, though his mind flashed to his own children for a moment. He could remember Robert and Brook having the same argument, and usually, they would eventually win. His heart pounded for a moment at the thought of his beloved family, pleased there were fond memories which he could find amongst the darkness.
“Both are back in school today. May spent the week blaming Harry, who tried his luck in spending the week in front of video games.” Bobby replied, recalling the argument between his wife and stepson. “Athena put a stop to that thought.”
Hen chuckled. Athena had been the only member of the house not to suffer. It seemed that even a virus did not want to battle with the unbeatable force that was Athena Grant Nash.
“Has anyone heard from Buck?” Bobby added as he realized the youngest member of the team was nowhere to be seen.
“I thought he would be here,” Eddie said, looking back towards the entrance. It was no secret the two had not been on the same wavelength for a while. He had spent the time looking after Christopher knowing he wanted that to change. Chris had asked for Buck during the last week, and it broke him knowing that he couldn’t just call the other man. He desperately wanted to try and find a way to fix the distance that had been created.
As the group parted ways, Bobby moved into his office. He didn’t want to think about the emails and messages he would have missed during his impromptu leave. The station was full of movement outside his office door. His crew getting ready for the shift ahead as they caught up with each other whilst working. Bobby took a sip of coffee, wincing at the number of emails that had stocked up during his absence.
The subject of one caught his attention. Bobby clicked ‘Buckley - emergency leave granted’ quickly, skimming through the paragraph from the office of the chief. It was then his phone sounded, as she absentmindedly accepted the call. Before he could give a greeting, the voice of his wife echoed around the room.
“Hon, is Buck around?”
Something was wrong. He could hear the concern in her voice, he had heard it several times alone over the past year when it came to the youngest member of the 118.
“No. He’s been out all week, Chim thought he was sick.” Bobby paused for a moment. “I just found a notice that he’s been given emergency leave. Do you need him?”
He heard a sigh.
“I just found out that Ali Martin died in a car accident a week ago.” She said, and Bobby froze. “I thought the name sounded familiar, so I looked into her further. She’s….”
“...Buck’s ex-girlfriend.” The two voices spoke at the same time.
“There’s more,” Athena said. “If my gut is right, that boy is gonna need our support.”
( - - - )
As Bobby and Athena spoke across the city, Buck watched as the pediatrician completed his final checks. The week had been stressful, not knowing when Alice would be deemed suitable to be released into his care. He remained close to her bed, a protective stance which he had perfected, deciding to take no chances when it came to the child he helped to create. He watched as the doctor took a step back, and marked a few things onto the chart.
“Alice is ready to go home.” He stated, sending a bolt of fear through Buck. This had been the outcome he had prayed for - and also the outcome which he had dreaded. As if he was providing a signal of distress, a hand appeared on his shoulder and squeezed gently.
“It’s gonna be fine, Buckeroo,” Carla said, “we’ve got this.”
( - - - )
Athena Grant had a sixth sense when it came to her family. It had always been there, developing since she was a child. The moment she had become a mother, she found that she had nurtured her abilities, which allowed her to focus during both her full-time roles - as a police officer, and (more importantly) as a mother. There had been a feeling within her gut for the past week. Given the fact that her children, her husband, and her ex-husband had all become ill, she had ignored the sensation.
They were all on the mend, but the feeling had not left.
It hadn’t been until she had overheard two officers speaking about the fatal collision a week before she finally understood why. The name sounded familiar to the police sergeant, and the reason had caused her to contact her husband straight away. The fact of the matter was that her husband had entered the marriage with more than memories and love for his first wife and their children. It was a routine joke that Bobby and Buck shared a pseudo father and son based relationship, though both denied this. Athena had seen how distressed Bobby had been upon finding out about the lawsuit.
“Sorry, I got caught in traffic.” Athena stood at the entrance of Buck’s apartment block, as Bobby arrived and the two shared a brief kiss. “Chimney’s spoken to Maddie. She hasn’t heard from Buck all week. She and Hen tried to call him, no answer.”
Bobby was certain he had also seen Eddie with his cell in his hands but hadn’t dwelled on the fact. He had been itching to get the two to work through their issues for almost a month. After Athena’s call, he had spoken to his team straight away. He had not mentioned about Ali, instead, he had asked if anyone had spoken to Buck. When they had discovered no one had thought about him - wrapped up in their own lives for the past week - he had made an excuse and left. He knew that Chimney, Hen, and Eddie would know something was amiss, but he was yet to find out the full extent of what was wrong. Bobby looked at the apartment entrance, and let out a small sigh.
“Are you ready?” Athena said, placing a hand on his arm in comfort. The two wandered in towards the elevators, both praying that they would be welcomed, neither knowing what would await them when they reached the correct floor.  They rode the elevator in comfortable silence, eventually reaching the apartment and knocking.
No response.
The two shared a look of concern.
“Buckeroo?” Athena knocked again, the use of his nickname slipping out in a concerned tone. The silence was obvious. There were no signs of anyone being within the apartment. No sounds of movement, no sounds of music, no sounds of life.
“He moved out.”
The two turned, facing a neighbor who had just exited their own apartment.
“Moved out?” Bobby repeated, disbelief dripping in his tone.
“Saw him a couple of days ago speaking to the landlord. He’s canceled his lease, I don’t know if he plans on returning.”
Athena and Bobby looked back towards the apartment, then at each other. There was only one thought on each of their minds.
Where the hell was Evan Buckley?
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