#and all the time he's missed Chris and now Eddie

[beecauseevan]

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December 2023

They don't talk much for the rest of that shift. It's a busy one because the holidays make people crazy, and by the time the B- shift arrives to take over, all of them are drained and exhausted and beyond ready to spend their Christmas morning in bed. 

Buck catches up to him when Eddie is leaving the locker room, duffel slung over his shoulder. His hair is still damp, dark brown because of it, and curling at the ends.

"Hey." He slows down to a brisk walk once he reaches Eddie, but doesn't really look at him. Instead, he stares at Eddie's feet, frowning as if Eddie's shoes have done something to offend him. "Uh. Are you. Okay?" 

For a moment, brief and shameful, Eddie allows himself to recall the previous night—Buck's blushing cheeks underneath the mistletoe, dark blue eyes following Eddie across the dance floor. Then he does what he does best, and buries it all. 

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asks, and bumps his shoulder against Buck's.

Buck sucks in a breath and when he looks at Eddie, surprised and hopeful, Eddie smiles. It's casual, it's normal, it's a clear invitation to act like nothing has happened. 

Nothing has happened. 

Slowly, bit by bit, Buck's insecure expression melts away. If he looks the tiniest bit disappointed, then that's just the price they have to pay for normalcy. 

"Okay." He nods to himself, as if fortifying his defenses. "Wanna grab some breakfast?"

That's what they normally do, so Eddie nods too. "I'm starving."

Later, back home, Eddie finds Buck's gift in his duffel, still unopened. He turns it in his hand, over and over, stares at the red wrapping paper until it becomes the only thing he can see. Then, with one shaky breath, he hides the gift in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, never to be looked at again. 

December 2024

Almost exactly one year later, Eddie once again spends his Christmas Eve with Buck. This time, though, they're not at work. There are no bells, no distractions, and no girlfriends either. The Buckley-Han family Christmas is all about, well, family. And it's wonderful. 

They eat, they sing Christmas songs with Jee, they watch Rudolph together and later, when Jee is in bed, they watch Die Hard because Chim insists. It's almost 2 in the morning when Eddie and Buck finally make it back home, and Eddie feels warm and happy, even if the wound in his heart is impossible to deny. 

"I miss him too," Buck tells him, when they're standing in the living room together, looking at the pictures lined up on Eddie's fireplace. "Promise you'll let me visit?"

Eddie takes a deep, deep breath. Then, for the first time in a long time, he does something just for himself. Dancing around the living room in your underwear where nobody can see you is one thing; admitting a shameful truth to another person is much harder. "I don't want to leave."

Buck exhales. "I don't want you to leave."

"But Chris—"

"There are chess clubs in LA too, Eddie," Buck says, voice quiet but intense. "And water, and—science, and whatever. LA is his home. Your parents—they shouldn't have taken him. No, don't—don't defend them. You know I'm right. They should have been on your side. It sucks that they weren't. But they can't keep Chris from you, not really, and if—I'm sure he misses you too. I'm sure he wants to come home too. If only so he can meet all of our Hotshots friends."

Eddie laughs quietly, despite himself. He's still staring at the pictures. He wants to believe Buck. He almost—almost does. 

"Let me help," Buck says. "Let's—let's visit him, or talk to him together, or—let me help."

Buck tried to help, back in May. It didn't work out then, but Chris was so angry then, so hurt. Maybe now… maybe it could be different. 

Eddie licks his lips. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he nods. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," Eddie says. He turns to Buck, and Buck must have moved closer when Eddie wasn't looking, because they're suddenly so close their chests touch every time Eddie breathes in too deeply. He could put some distance between them. He doesn't want to. "I'll let you help."

Buck smiles, earnestly grateful. "Good. Let's call him first thing in the morning."

"I still have your presents," Eddie tells him, apropos of nothing. "From last year. I never gave them to you. And I never—I never opened yours."

Buck breathes out a laugh. It's barely audible, but they're so close that Eddie can feel the warm puff of breath on his cheek. "You can give them to me tomorrow."

"Yeah," Eddie says, "Buck, listen…"

"I love you."

Eddie stops. Buck didn't blurt it out, didn't stumble his way through it. It wasn't a rushed confession or a slip-up. He said it slowly, and clearly, and Eddie—Eddie, who was about to say something very similar—Eddie stops. 

"I love you," Buck repeats. "I do. For years, probably. I never realized, because... I guess we've just always been so close. I guess I figured my feelings were just friendship. I never had a best friend before you. But that's not—that's not what this is. Josh—he asked me all these questions to help me figure out if I loved Tommy, and I couldn't really... I couldn't answer most of them. I guess if I'd been honest with myself, the answer would have been no. For most of them. With Tommy, I mean, but with you… It's always been yes. And I don't expect anything. I just, I just needed you to know. And I'm sorry if that's weird, or, or if I'm making you uncomfortable, but I just couldn't keep on not saying it. It was kind of eating me up inside, and I—"

"I love you too." Buck shuts up. His eyes grow wide. Eddie smiles at him. "I love you too."

"You love me too."

"Yes." 

Eddie shifts so that they're standing even closer. His heart is beating evenly, even as his skin flushes with heat. This is at once exhilarating and scary and the most normal thing in the world. 

Buck loves Eddie. Eddie loves Buck. How could it ever be any other way? 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. You can go back to rambling if you want. I just figured you should know, before you go and make assumptions."

"You love me," Buck repeats, dumbfounded. 

"I love you," Eddie says. It's kind of thrilling, saying it. It's like—no, it's better than dancing. 

Buck laughs, then, open and relieved. He tilts his head back, looks up at the ceiling, exposes his throat. 

Eddie licks his own smiling lips. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if there's a mistletoe," Buck says, "because I would really like to kiss you right now."

"You're such an idiot," Eddie replies, and then he hauls Buck in, missing mistletoe be damned. 

Well; this is it! Thanks everyone for following along - it's been so much fun <3

Now that it's finished, this fic has also been posted to my ao3 (where it is a one-shot instead)!

Written for the @911countdowntochristmas - this was supposed to be 24 drabbles but the Buddie NDE speculation going around pre 8x08 inspired me and now it’s a 24-mini-chaptered fic instead. And definitely more hurt/comfort than fluff. Oops.

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[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

Let's get this one off the ground! I'm very excited for some Christmas angst!

You get the first Eddie POV sneak peak!

102 for 🐓:

---

It’s not all bad. He has to look at it that way. It’s not all bad. At least he’s able to be here, close to his son. At least things aren’t worse. 

He didn’t end up buying a new place down here, before he moved. He didn’t want to miss Christmas. So he rented. Has a six month, short-term lease on a two bedroom apartment. First floor, for Chris. He did manage to sell the house back in Los Angeles. So he’s not hurting financially. He starts his new job with the El Paso Fire Department in January. 

It’s all fine. He’s lucky. He’s near his son again.

Not that that’s all smooth sailing either. If anything, it’s been mostly choppy weather, with the occasional let up. Something that Eddie wishes wasn’t so discouraging for him. But he’ll admit it. He’s fucking discouraged. 

At first, Chris had been happy to see him. Which felt amazing. He smiled and hugged him and told him he missed him, and for a moment, it just felt like Eddie had been gone on a long trip and was now home. Like maybe time really did heal all wounds and Chris was ready to be a family again.

Then Eddie told him he wasn’t leaving. 

It hurts a little. Eddie really was honest and raw with him. Fair, he thought. 

“I’m not expecting things to be changed overnight, I’m not expecting anything to be fixed,” he’d told Chris. “But I can’t continue to be where you aren’t. You’re my son. Home is where you are.”

“So you moved to El Paso? And got an apartment?” Chris had replied, face tight. 

“I did. Yeah. At least now we’re close, and we can-”

“Why would you do that?” Chris had demanded. 

“Why would I want to be in the same city, let alone the same state, as you?” Eddie replied, feeling frustration rising in his chest. 

Christopher’s face had gone bright red. Like Eddie had said something to embarrass him. He hadn’t.

“I don’t want you to be in El Paso. I don’t want to spend time at your stupid, sad apartment. I don’t want to talk to you!” Chris had shouted in response. 

And he hadn’t, for a bit, after that. Complete silent treatment, just like back in May and June, during the worst of it. Eddie panicked. Spiralled. Felt that he made things worse, all the while ruining what had still been good in his life. But after a brief pity party, Eddie remembered why he came here. To do whatever it takes to make sure the gap between himself and Christopher doesn’t get wider. So whatever. Chris can be mad. He can be silent. But Eddie is here. 

So Eddie had kept seeing him anyway. Fought with his parents about, and came to the resolution that Eddie gets two evenings with him a week, minimum. More if Chris wants, which… Well, maybe he’ll start wanting. Hasn’t yet, but at least he’s no longer silent. Quiet and grumbly. But not silent.

Each dinner or forced quality time activity seems to be slowly making a difference. Like crack by crack Eddie is getting through to him. But he honestly doesn’t quite understand why he has to. They’d been doing so much better. Why is Eddie’s proximity such a problem? Maybe… Maybe Chris really doesn’t want him around. Maybe he was calling Eddie or answering Eddie’s calls out of obligation, but really, he was done. Maybe he’s happier the farther Eddie is from him. Maybe all Eddie is to his son is a source of pain.

So being near Chris again makes him happy. But… But it’s not an uncomplicated happiness. It’s tainted. Tainted with the knowledge he might just be being selfish. That he might not be the best thing for Christopher, after all. 

And that is a sort of agony. 

All this to say, Eddie spends five of seven days a week alone. And even the days he does see Chris, it’s not the full day. It’s a handful of hours at most. Sure, he manages to spend a lot of time visiting Abuela when he can. But other than that, he’s on his own. It’ll be better when he starts working, he thinks. He’ll have a team again. They won’t be the 118 - no one ever could be. But maybe they’ll at least care about him. Right now, other than Abuela - who  is aging and doesn’t need Eddie’s stress - no one here really gives a shit about him. His parents have made that much clear. 

As Christmas draws nearer and nearer, Eddie struggles with the loneliness. He knows, in his core, that he’s miserable. He doesn’t want to say it out loud. Can’t call Buck or Bobby or anyone to admit it. That he’s done the wrong thing for himself. Again. It’s too… It’s too shameful. He’s always filled with so much shame. 

And honestly, maybe he could call Bobby. Bobby who is patient and full of grace and understands that shame better than anyone. Maybe he could even find a way to call Father Brian. He certainly can’t talk to the priests at his family’s church. He knows that from a childhood of bullshit. But… He really can’t call Buck. Not about this. Eddie knows Buck took him leaving hard, even if he tried not to show it. And now he sort of hardly communicates with Eddie at all.

[sunflowerwemadeit]

God, to Buck Eddie is leaving him as well and isn't that the most devastating thing you've ever heard? First Chris and now Eddie, he's gonna be so broken. He'll probably say something like "I'm trying not to make this about me" or "this isn't about me I know" but it is. It is. Oh my god someone wrap him up in bubble wraps and give him a hot chocolate and Eddie plushie I cannot.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

We’re totally getting Tommy saying something about Eddie ‘being around all the time’ aren’t we!

[bam-bi-buck]

Not to be like totally awful

But I keep seeing posts about Buck NDE while Eddie’s in El Paso

So imagne-

Eddie’s moved to El Paso, he misses everyone, he misses LA, he misses his house, the firehouse, the beach, he misses… but it’s worth it

He and Chris are talking regularly now

He’s there for all of Chris’s big moments

Chris is spending nights, then weekends at his new house

They’ve hashed things out

Their relationship is repairing

They’re talking about him transitioning back to Eddie’s custody

Then Eddie gets a text, from Chim

It says Bucks in the hospital

That it’s bad

That they aren’t sure he’s gonna pull through

To call him when he can

To start heading to LA asap if he can

And for a moment he doesn’t believe it

Because, he’d know it, wouldn’t he?

Even from El Paso, he’d feel it

If Buck was hurt

He’d know it, wouldn’t he?

And that’s Chim’s mo, anyways

Sure, he and Buck have had a harder time connecting so they haven’t talked in a couple weeks

Bucks probably been mopey

Chim took it upon himself to interfere - the way he did for Hen and Karen when they broke up

(He’s not gonna reflect on that further)

Chim just wanted to push him to calling more

But his hands shake as he calls Chim

And when Chim picks up

He finds out it’s true

From 824 miles away

[pinkie-quinns]

(posting some old twitter threads here for posterity's sake)

Chrissy and Eddie breakup. She's a lesbian, apparently. Has finally come to terms with it. It's half a decade of Eddie's life in the dust. He... he doesn't exactly handle it well.

But Steve's there for him, offers Eddie a shoulder to cry on.

They’re drunk when Eddie says no one’s ever been in love with him. Not really. So Steve kisses him.

But Eddie’s straight.

He always has been.

He freaks the fuck out. Bolts. Lets the calls go to voicemail. He’d lost his partner and one of his best friends in the span of a week and it’s not fair and he’s pissed off beyond belief at Steve for doing it. 

But he’s also confused. And he also can’t stop thinking about it. 

He stews on it for weeks. Avoids mutual friends like the plague. The band lets people know he’s alive, apparently. Between losing Chrissy and Steve, he feels like there are chunks of him missing. So he gets drunk. Hooks up with blondes who kiss him all wrong. 

He’s five whiskeys deep and when he finds himself banging at Steve’s door. Steve answers with his hair mussed and his voice sleep-rough. And Eddie tells him he’s really fucking pissed at him. And Steve apologizes again. And it should be enough but it’s just fucking not. 

So Steve apologizes again and again and again, all blubbery and guilt-ridden. It's only making Eddie more angry. And he doesn’t know why. And he’s too drunk for this shit.

So he shoves Steve against the door and kisses him stupid. 

He wakes up in his own bed the next morning and he's sure he dreamt it. (He’s been dreaming it a lot lately.) But his lips are all stubble-scrapped and his mouth is cotton but he remembers how his friend's tongue tasted and he just.. Wants to cry.

Cause he’s not gay. He’s not. Other people are. Most of his friends are. And he’s fine with that! He’s been a good ally.

Well, maybe not to Chrissy. But only cause it broke his goddamn heart. Only cause he loved her so much. Only cause he'd never felt that way about anyone before or anyone since.

Except well— Fuck. Shit fucking fuck.

So he calls her. He’s kind of hoping it’ll ring through but she picks up straight away, lets out a soft little hey. And it breaks his heart all over again to hear her voice. But he takes a breath and says, “I kissed Steve.”

And she pauses. “You kissed Steve?"

And then he says, “Well, he kissed me first. But yeah. I got drunk. Jeez Chris, I got wasted. And then I— yeah, I kissed him.”

And she's quiet for a long time, just soft breathing and static. Then she says, “Thank you for telling me, Eddie.”

And oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it?

So they talk about it. All of it. And he really listens to her this time. He couldn’t the last time, couldn’t hear over the sound of his heart fuckin’ shattering. Then he’s the one blubbering apologies cause his girl was going through all this shit totally alone and he is now way too familiar with how bad it sucks.

And then they talk about It. The big It. All the stuff her mama drilled into her brain since she was in diapers. All the names that got spat at him between hall shoves. Shit they couldn’t be 'cause then they’d be wrong, shit they couldn’t be 'cause then they’d be right. 

And when they’re done and the conversation turns into How’s the band? and Is Marcel still driving you crazy? Eddie feels ten pounds lighter, almost whole again. Like he was but better, all glued together in gold. Well, almost altogether.

He really needs to talk to Steve. 

He knocks on his door again that night. This time not at 1 AM, this time sober and remarkably dehydrated.

And Steve answers. This time put together, this time hair done and voice in its day pitch (Eddie kinda misses the sleep rasp). And he looks.. fuck. He looks perfect, doesn’t he?

Eddie’s spent all day mulling this conversation over. But standing here now he’s coming up blank. He mutters, “I- I was an asshole.”

Steve opens his mouth but Eddie just trucks on.

“–you were an asshole too, man. But me, uh, probably more?” 

And he ignores the way his stupid traitor eyes start to water, always do when the moment feels too big. “–Sorry about that. Sorry that I freaked, sorry that I was pissed at you for the shit I was just pissed at myself for. Sorry for, uh. Yelling at you. Sorry, um. Yeah. Sorry for kissing you. That definitely wasn’t cool. It’s been uh... a confusing month. Shit. I’m so sorry Steve.”

Steve just leans against the door. Normally he wore everything on his face. Couldn't win Texas Hold 'Em to save his life. Not now though. Now it feels like Steve could have a sleeve full of aces and Eddie wouldn’t know a thing.

But then he says “Eddie” so quiet it sounds like he hadn't even meant to. Like it just slipped onto his tongue.

Eddie can’t do anything but blink, “Yeah?”

“Let me um-” Steve swallows, “Let me get this straight. Where’d you land?���

God, this shit was humiliating, “Not that. Straight. Not straight.”

“Ok. Cool.”

“Yup.”

“And me–” Steve scratches at the back of his neck, “where did you land on me?”

Eddie feels like he’s gonna explode. But he can’t bolt. Not again. Even though every bone in his body wants to. So he plants his feet, coughs, “Well, I pretty much assaulted you, didn’t I?”

Steve rolls his eyes, snarks a laugh. “Sure. Yeah. I’ve been totally gone on you since, I dunno, forever. You were straight. You were basically married to your high school sweetheart. All it took was one of those things no longer being true for me to totally nosedive. But sure, you threw yourself at me.”

This was. It was a lot. 

“Steve–”

Steve waves a hand, stops him. “‘No one’s ever been in love with you. Not really.’ That’s what you said, dude. Meanwhile, shit, cards on the table here? Every relationship I’ve had in the last five years has been a pointless attempt to get over you. So yeah, it was weird to hear, Eddie.” 

Steve won’t look him in the eye. His neck is craned towards the ceiling.

Eddie whistles through his teeth, “Maybe, uh… maybe give me a bit more time?”

“Oh.” Steve finally glances up. His poker face is all gone. He looks like a kicked puppy. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“I’ll probably just need a week or two? I mean, fuck man, that’s a whole other, like Phylum of pornography I’ve been missing out on for the last 25 years. I gotta get myself acquainted before I can, you know–” He reaches out, rubs at Steve’s bicep with a wink, “Get myself Acquainted.”

Steve’s whole body is shaking. Eddie can feel the relief flitting out of him. “Jesus Christ, Munson.”

“Then I’ll take you out, Harrington! Show you the town.”

“Dude, will your dick even work at that point?”

“On the first date?” Eddie gasps, “Lord Harrington, how improper!”

Steve just shrugs, “Rules are different for guys.”

“What? Wait seven years and then hope you land a sexuality crisis?” Then Eddie’s leaning in, closing the space between them. Trying to ignore the pounding in his chest, thinks maybe he's never been so terrified. 

Steve smiles into the kiss. “Yeah, Munson. It's something like that.” 

[hotshotsxyz]

too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 13

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 12

Robin calls the Harrington house twenty-three times that night; no one answers. She gets desperate enough as she paces the length of her living room waiting for the phone to ring, that she asks her dad for the phone book, hands shaking as she looks for Munson. It’s unlisted, of course.

She thinks about looking up Jeff, but to her embarrassment, can’t think of his last name.

She’s too nervous to look for “Cunningham,” afraid equally that she’ll answer and not have seen Steve, or that she won’t answer at all. 

She calls Steve’s house again; he doesn’t pick up.

She’s tired enough the next morning to be tempted to stay home sick, but she drags herself out to the bus anyway, too worried about Steve to miss a chance at seeing him. He’s not there, but she doesn’t want to walk home, and there’s no bus back to her house until the end of the day.

Plus, there’s Chrissy and Jeff, who might know something she doesn’t. They’d been at Steve’s side before her; he might call one of them where he wouldn’t pick up for her, no matter how much that thought burns.

She catches Chrissy between sixth and seventh period, snags her wrist and drags her into the girl’s bathroom—is this her thing now? Please don’t let it be her thing.

“Robin?” Chrissy asks, eyes big and worried in her face once Robin’s dutifully checked all the stalls for eavesdroppers before turning back to Chrissy and letting the whole situation pour out of her mouth.

It goes something like this: “Jason, he—with Eddie, you know?” she says, raking her hands through her hair as she begins pacing the bathroom. “And then I told Steve, and maybe I shouldn’t have? Because he’s not here today! What if he—and it’s my fault!”

Chrissy snags Robin’s wrist, and her whole brain goes quiet as she stops suddenly enough that her sneakers squeak against the dirty linoleum.

“Slow down,” Chrissy demands, grip hard on Robin’s wrist as she uses it to turn her around to face Chrissy once more. “Start from the beginning. What did Jason do?”

Robin’s breath shudders—that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What did Jason do? But Chrissy’s staring her down, so Robin takes a few deep breaths, and starts again.

“Jason followed Eddie’s van out of the school, and I told Steve,” she says all in one breath, hoping Chrissy can understand her. “And now neither of them are in school.”

Chrissy’s frowning at her, and Robin’s gut curdles at the look.

Like she always does when she’s nervous and there’s a lull in a conversation, she just keeps talking. “Do you think he did something to them?” she asks, bringing her free hand up to her lips to bite the nails there. “Steve could take him, right?”

Chrissy doesn’t answer, brow furrowed, eyes hard. Before Robin can babble herself into another freak-out, Chrissy turns on her heel and walks out of the bathroom, dragging Robin along by the hold she has on her wrist.

“Where are we going?” Robin whispers, glancing around the empty hallway like Principal Higgins will jump out of a shadowy corner and slap them with expulsion charges.

Chrissy doesn’t answer. Before Robin can work herself into a tizzy over the silence, Chrissy stops in front of one of the closed classroom doors and knocks before pulling it open.

Robin freezes, eyes wide as she ducks down to hide behind Chrissy.

“Hi, Mr. Mundy!” she says cheerfully. “Sorry for the interruption, but can I borrow Jason for just a minute?”

“What the fuck!” Robin whispers, staring at the back of Chrissy’s head, waiting for Mr. Mundy to call them on their bullshit.

The thing is, it works. Mr. Mundy sends Jason out without any follow-up questions—is this what it’s like to be head cheerleader?

For his part, Jason’s smiling like butter wouldn’t melt as he closes the classroom door softly behind him.

“Hey, Chris. What’s up?” he asks, smile only dropping as he catches sight of Robin peeking out from behind her. “Who’s your friend?”

“What did you do to Steve and Eddie?” Chrissy demands, voice firm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, all levity having fled from his face.

Chrissy scoffs, finally dropping her hold on Robin’s wrist to plant her hands on her own hips. “I know you followed Eddie after school yesterday,” she replies, taking a threatening step forward. Determined to support her, Robin finally stands up straight, crossing her arms and glaring, hoping Jason doesn’t notice how her hands are shaking. “And I know Steve followed you both, and now no one’s seen either of them all day.”

She jabs Jason in the chest, hard enough that he stumbles back a bit as she asks, “what did you do?” She’s at least four inches shorter than him, but suddenly, she seems larger than life. Because Jason? He grimaces, cringing into the classroom’s door like she’s a threat.

Robin’s traitorous heart rata-tat-tat-tat’s in her chest.

“Okay!” he whispers, hands outstretched, looking furtively around himself for witnesses. “I didn’t touch Harrington.”

He sneers Steve’s name like it’s a curse. It rubs Robin all wrong, and by the way Chrissy takes another threatening step toward him, it must hit her the same.

“I didn’t!” Jason says, putting his hands up toward them as if to prove he’s weaponless. Robin knows better. “But Munson got what was coming to him.”

He’s got that same hard look in his eyes as when he’d followed Eddie in the first place. Robin shudders, imagining all the ways that hate could be turned on Eddie’s vulnerable body. She doesn’t know him well, but Steve cares about him, and no one deserves something like this.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Chrissy asks again, teeth gritted as she grunts out each word.

“You should be thanking me!” he sneers, looking down on her in a way that makes Robin furious. “I heard you talking in the library.”

Robin shoots a look at Chrissy and sees surprise on her face, but not confusion. Whatever this is about, she already knows about it.

“You went after Eddie because he was going to ask me out?” she demands, more furious than Robin’s ever seen her. Her hair’s damn-near flying, and she looks like Medusa more than her usual cheerleader archetype. Robin only falls harder as she jabs her pointer finger into Jason’s chest and asks, “what did you do to him?”

Jason takes another step back, smacking his head into the door behind him. “I just roughed him up a bit!” he whispers, eyes still wide. “Your new boyfriend’s fine. For now.”

And he’s back to snarling, a feral dog off its leash. Chrissy doesn’t back down. She shores her shoulders up, spine straight, chin tilted up as she replies, “if you touch either of them again, I’ll kill you.”

She sounds so serious that for a second, Robin believes her. By the way Jason’s Adam’s apple bobs, he does too.

Without another word, Chrissy turns on her heel and strides away. Robin scrambles after her, looking back at Jason every couple steps to make sure he doesn’t pull anything.

When they turn the corner and he’s out of sight, Robin takes a few running steps forward to walk beside Chrissy. “Now what?” she asks.

“Now, we wait,” she replies, head still held at that royal angle that makes her throat look even longer than normal. “And once class ends, Jeff and I will go to band practice. Unless he’s dead, there’s no way he won’t show up.”

Robin bites her lip. “What if he doesn’t show?” Robin asks.

“He will,” Chrissy says, an implied or else left dangling at the end of her statement. “But if he doesn’t, we’ll show up at his house and check on him.”

Robin stews, something bitter and afraid churning in her stomach as Chrissy walks on, damn-near forgetting her entirely. As if she wasn’t the one to tell Chrissy that something was even wrong. As if she wasn’t friends with Steve, too.

But she knows when Chrissy uses the word “we,” it doesn’t mean Robin. So, she says, “if you find Steve, could you ask him to call me?”

Chrissy stops in the middle of the hallway, turning to Robin with a furrowed brow. Robin feels her heartbeat ratchet up again, blood pooling into her cheeks. “Or, maybe you could call me? If he can’t, or if you don’t find him, or if he’s busy.”

Chrissy’s still just staring—Robin bites her lip against all the words that want to come out. “I’m just worried,” she rushes out, unable to abide by the quiet.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh!” Robin replies. “Uh—”

All higher brain functions having fled at the soft look in Chrissy’s eyes, Robin frantically feels around in her backpack for a pen. Then somehow, inexplicably, she’s writing her phone number on Chrissy’s bare forearm, marking up that creamy white flesh with her messy handwriting.

Her skin’s warm beneath the shaking hand Robin’s using to hold her forearm steady. Robin’s cheeks could start a forest fire as she dots the i on her own name as she writes it above her phone number—as if Chrissy will ever forget this uncomfortable moment.

Robin holds onto her a second longer than necessary—looking down at her own marks on Chrissy’s skin before she drops it abruptly. Chrissy keeps it in the air for a moment before letting her arm swing back to her side.

“Thanks, Robin,” she says, and when Robin finally looks up at her, she’s smiling, none the wiser to the big gay moment Robin was just having. “I’ll make sure he calls you.”

“Uh, yeah!” Robin squeaks. “Thanks. Thank you?”

Chrissy laughs, finally turning around and making her way to her next class. “Bye, Robin.”

“Bye!” Robin calls.

Steve better call her, and soon. Screw Eddie, she’s got a whole lot to unpack here, and no one else to do it with.

***

Eddie’s already ten minutes late to band practice; so is Steve.

“I’m telling you, something’s wrong!” Jeff says, all heated as he paces Gareth’s garage.

“Didn’t he get too high last Monday, and not go to school because he thought it was Sunday?” Chrissy asks, trying to cheer everyone up.

It doesn’t work.

She’s not any better. She’d been so sure that no matter what had happened, Eddie would come to band practice. Jeff had agreed when she’d caught him up on the situation, so here they are, stewing in anxiety the longer the clock ticks on.

Still, she’s a little charmed by the way Eddie’s entire band is crumbling without him—does he even know how integral he is?

“That’s school, though,” Gareth replies, twirling one of his drumsticks nervously between his fingers as he stares at the open garage door like Eddie will walk through any second. “He cares about the band.”

Behind him, Doug nods his support, clutching onto the strings of his instrument hard enough that she’s surprised they haven’t snapped. It’s sweet, really, the way they all care, but no matter what all the boys around her seem to think, Eddie couldn’t be punctual with a watch strapped to both his wrists and each of his ankles for good measure.

She’s his friend, but faultless, the boy is not.

Still, Jeff’s eyebrows are all pinched, and this practice is dead on arrival so she asks, “why don’t we wait a few minutes to make sure we don’t just miss him, and then I can drive you over to check on him?” while looking Jeff’s way.

After token protests from Doug and Gareth, waylaid by Jeff’s promise to call after, they wait a long five minutes before she corrals him into the passenger seat of her car and heads toward the trailer park. In deference to Jeff’s dour mood, she turns her Blondie tape on low.

But, she’s still in the car with the man of her dreams, so she reaches over the center console and settles her palm on his thigh with a squeeze. Jeff places his own hand over hers squeezing her fingers but otherwise not protesting.

She could’ve never done any of this with Jason, who found even the most minor of things emasculating. He would’ve rather walked than let her drive him somewhere, much less put her hand on his thigh. It was his job to put his hand on her thigh, didn’t she know?

Chrissy finds she likes it this way a lot better. She likes driving Jeff home from school after Hellfire, she likes carrying his books sometimes when she can get away with it.

She likes that he lets her.

It’s not a long drive—Jeff leaps out of her car almost before it’s in park, and Chrissy scrambles to keep up.

Jeff doesn’t even knock, just opens the door. Chrissy hesitates on the threshold, her mother’s teachings squirming within her at showing up uninvited, empty-handed, barging in.

But then Jeff inhales sharply and asks, “did Carver do all that?” and all thoughts of propriety fly right out of her head.

She steps through the open front door, shutting it gently behind her. Only then does she peer around Jeff’s shoulders. Eddie’s curled up on the couch, a bag of peas pressed to his bruised face, lip split straight down the middle.

He waves, smiling lazily like nothing’s wrong at all. “Come to join the party?”

As if to punctuate Eddie’s absurd question, a door opens and suddenly, there Steve is, looking unhurt, if a bit tired. He stops right outside the door, eyes widening as he catches sight of them. “Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his head, cheeks tinting red with what looks like embarrassment. “Hey.”

“What happened?” Chrissy asks, an echo of Jeff’s own words, gaze still trained on Steve.

Eddie scoffs, drawing her line of sight back to him just to watch him somehow curling himself into an even smaller ball before hissing like it hurts and straightening back up.

“You’re boyfriend got me,” he replies, something mean in his voice.

Chrissy looks at Jeff first, eyes wide before she remembers: she’s supposed to be dating Steve. For his part, Steve looks uncomfortable where he’s loitering across the trailer.

“What?” Chrissy squeaks out, smacking her hand over her mouth in shock. “Steve wouldn’t—”

Eddie stands suddenly enough that Chrissy stops talking without prompting. He throws his hands up in exasperation, dropping them immediately to clutch at his ribs. “Not that one,” he cries, voice cracking with pain.

Chrissy’s fingers are tingling. She bunches them up at her sides, a thread of violence coursing through her voice as she says, “Oh, right. Jason.”

Eddie scoffs, wincing again as his split lip drips down his chin.

Jeff, clearly fed up with watching his best friend inflict further pain on himself, rushes forward and pulls up Eddie’s shirt, prying his fingers off when he tries to hold it down. There’s a big, purpling bruise along the line of his ribs, another smaller one lower on his stomach.

Finally succeeding in slapping Jeff’s hands away, Eddie slumps back into the couch, pouting up at Jeff like this is all just a joke. Like he’s not black and blue. “Stop it, prince charming over there already took care of it.” He throws a careless thumb over his shoulder at Steve. “Not the knight in shining armor I would’ve chosen.”

This, he directs toward Chrissy, batting his eyelashes flirtatiously at her. Behind him, Steve’s recently-flushed cheeks drain to an off-white as the comment lands. He shuffles into the living room proper, slumping down on the couch as far away from Eddie as he can, entire body pointed away like that’ll keep him from being notice. 

Her hands clench harder.

She’s never been a violent person, but seeing that look on her best friend’s face makes her desperate, suddenly, for a target she could actually hit. But it’s Eddie inflicting the pain—stupid, sweet Eddie who doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Jeff sighs.

“Um,” is all she gets out, voice high with discomfort.

There’s a sitcom concept here somewhere: a cheerleader trapped in an enclosed space with her boyfriend, the boy she’s pretending to date who likes the boy who likes her, because she’s pretending to in order to protect the boy who likes him. Oh yeah, and her ex-boyfriend beat up the boy who likes her who she’s pretending to like.

It’s muddled enough they’d need a diagram for the pitch meeting just to have a chance of keeping it all straight.

Eddie’s still looking at her, big cow eyes all wide and earnest, so she says, “I’m sorry?” and he laughs.

“It’s not your fault your ex-boyfriend is the worst person alive.”

Jeff snorts, but the moment of levity drops when Eddie continues with a muttered, “not that your taste has improved much.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy cuts in, voice dangerous as she looks past him to her best friend’s drooping expression. 

“Sorry!” Eddie replies, throwing his hands in the air as he smiles up at her. “But I would kick myself for years if I didn’t take my shot.”

And with that, Eddie gets up off the couch; it looks painful, he grimaces as his ribs straighten and clutches at his wrist. Steve partially raises from his seat, arms open like he might have to catch Eddie. But Eddie makes it up from his seat, and is out of the room in seconds.

Steve slumps down into the couch, and Chrissy burns—at Jason, at Eddie, at the whole goddamn world for the look on his face.

It gets worse when Eddie reenters the room because there, clutched in his hand, is a familiar style of folded letter with a familiar script on it, but instead of Secret Admirer, it just says Chrissy.

“I was going to just leave this for you,” Eddie says, smiling sheepishly as he holds it out to her, “but Carver waylaid my plans so.”

Eddie shrugs before wincing and lowering his shoulders. He shakes the letter at her again, still inexplicably smiling, as if Jeff hasn’t gone stiff beside her, and Steve hasn’t withered away enough to damn-near disappear

Chrissy takes the letter.

Chrissy,

I’m sorry for not being up front with you. I was just afraid, but not anymore. I don’t want you to think you’re not good enough for me because baby, you’re everything. Every word you write on the page means everything to me. You have to know that.

I can’t imagine this year without you in it. You’ve brightened my days far more than you could ever know. I want the chance to do the same for you. I want to get you flowers, and show up at your door with my hair combed just right. I want to hold your hand at the drive-in.

If you want that, too, I’ll pick you up this Friday. They’re showing Romancing the Stone, my treat.

Hopefully Yours,

Eddie

P.S. You don’t have to “be better,” baby. I just want you to be you. That will always be enough for a guy like me.

It’s devastating. Chrissy’s eyes trace the page, brain ticking away against a problem with no solution. It’s not fair to say yes, not when it’s not just her heart on the line, but all four of them, primed for breaking.

She doesn’t look up at Steve, can’t bear to see whatever’s on his face.

“Obviously you were supposed to find the letter in the atlas,” Eddie says, and when she looks up at him, he’s got a piece of hair held up over his own lips, face gone a light pink with an embarrassed blush. “But this is me asking if—if you want to go out. With me. To the drive-in?”

Chrissy swallows, throat suddenly dry, unable to find the words to fix this. The longer the silence goes on, the wider and wetter his eyes get. She feels like the hunter who shot Bambi. She has to say something.

“She didn’t write the secret admirer letters.” Steve’s voice rings out, sure and steely, through the trailer. Eddie sits up straighter, eyes still trained on her. She barely notices, gaze stuck to Steve, whose face has gone somehow paler, and is tinged with a greenish hue, like he’s going to be sick.

“Steve—“ Chrissy starts.

“I did.”

PART 14

[redocity]

I just had a cute idea, feel free to say no! What if (post Tommy) Buck has been dating F! Reader for a few months and she has already met the team, She loves Christmas and misses her nephews and nieces back home , and offers to take all the 118 kids for the day so the parents can do some shopping or go out on a date …etc , and she has all sorts of activities planned. Walking around to look at Christmas lights with hot chocolate, a Christmas movie night, gingerbread house decorating, cookie baking, matching pj’s etc.. and Buck (who has no clue) shows up to the readers house to see why she has been ignoring him all day, and sees her house full of his best friends kids.

COMMUNAL CHRISTMAS — E.BUCKLEY

buck comes home to his loving girlfriend… and a house full of kids?

evan buckley x fem!reader | 1.0k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — y’all know i had to get out a christmas themed fic

Buck had been feeling it all day—the gnawing pit in his stomach that something was off.

You hadn’t answered his texts or calls since the morning, which was wildly out of character for you. Sure, he knew you were busy, but it wasn’t like you to ghost him completely.

By the time his shift ended, he couldn’t take it anymore. Buck grabbed his jacket, told Eddie he’d see him tomorrow, and headed straight to your house.

Pulling into your driveway, he was greeted by an unusual sight: colourful Christmas lights blinking merrily in every window. Your house looked like it had been plucked from a holiday movie. And parked haphazardly along the curb even your car was decorated, and not only that, fitted with car seats and mobility aids in the backseats.

“What the hell?” Buck muttered to himself, frowning as he climbed out of his Jeep.

The moment he stepped up to the front door, he heard laughter. A lot of laughter. Tiny voices were shouting, giggling, and squealing in delight, and it sounded like absolute chaos in there.

Curious and slightly alarmed, Buck knocked once before trying the door. It wasn’t locked—because of course you trusted everyone—and he pushed it open cautiously.

“Babe?” he called, stepping inside.

The smell hit him first: sugar, cinnamon, and chocolate mingled with the faintest hint of pine. The sight hit him next.

There, in the middle of the kitchen, stood Christopher, Denny, and Jee-Yun, each proudly wearing matching red-and-green Christmas pyjamas. Denny was wielding a frosting-covered spatula, Chris had powdered sugar dusting his nose, and Jee-Yun was cradling what looked like an entire bowl of sprinkles, despite the fact she seemed to be barred from actually using them as of yet.

Surrounding them were trays of cookies in various states of decoration, bowls of frosting, and a table that had clearly seen better days.

Off to the side, Mara was meticulously adjusting the decorations on a gingerbread house, her face scrunched in concentration.

And there you were, in the middle of it all, wearing pajamas that matched the kids’, flour streaked across your cheek as you handled the electric mixer for whatever you were making now.

It reminded him of his baking kick in an odd way, although this one was decidedly for a much more sweet reason.

“Buck!” Chris’s voice rang out, followed by an enthusiastic wave. The boy nearly toppled out of his raised stool with his turn. “You’re here,”

You turned at the sound of Chris’s voice, your expression softening the moment you spotted Buck standing in the doorway, looking like he’d just walked into an alternate dimension.

“Hi, baby,” you said warmly, as though this was all perfectly normal.

“Uh...what is going on?” Buck finally managed, gesturing at the scene in front of him.

You set down your mixer and crossed the room to him, gently brushing some powdered sugar off your shoulder. “You’ve been ignoring me all day,” he pointed out, though his tone lacked any real heat.

You grinned sheepishly. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I’ve just been a little busy.”

“No kidding,” Buck muttered, glancing back at the kids. Jee-Yun had somehow managed to dump an entire handful of sprinkles on the floor, and Denny was laughing so hard he could barely stand.

“I told the team I’d take the kids today,” you explained. “You know, so everyone could get some shopping done or have a little alone time,”

Buck blinked at you, dumbfounded. “You volunteered to take all the kids? By yourself?”

You shrugged, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smirk. “I like kids. And I’ve got a system. We’ve already baked cookies, made gingerbread houses, and watched The Polar Express. Next up is baking this fruitcake with hot chocolate, then a Christmas movie marathon.”

“Wow,” Buck said, his voice laced with awe. He glanced at Chris, who was now grinning ear to ear, and then back at you. “You really went all out.”

“Of course I did,” you replied with a wink. “It’s Christmas.”

Buck stared at you for a moment, his chest tightening with something warm and unnameable. You had just taken on a roomful of kids—his friends’ kids—and turned their day into a Christmas wonderland, all without asking for anything in return.

“Have I mentioned how amazing you are?” Buck said softly, his voice low enough that the kids wouldn’t overhear.

Your cheeks flushed, but you leaned in closer, the smile on your face growing even wider. “Not in the last twenty-four hours, but I’ll take it.”

Buck grinned and leaned down to kiss you, only to be interrupted by a chorus of giggles from the kids.

“Ewwww!” Mara exclaimed, covering her eyes.

“Get a room!” Denny added, though he was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out.

Chris just smiled knowingly, his gaze flicking between you and Buck.

Buck pulled back with a chuckle, shaking his head as he took in the room again. “Alright, what’s next? Need any help wrangling this lot?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Think you can handle it?”

He grinned, stepping further into the chaos. “Challenge accepted.”

By the time the night ended, the kids were all asleep, curled up in a pile of blankets on your living room floor, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft light over their peaceful faces.

Buck stood next to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both looked down at the little group. “You know,” he whispered, “this might be my favorite Christmas ever.”

You leaned into him, your heart full. “Mine too.”

[jerrydevine]

9 years old: last time eddie went to confession

10 years old: ramon pulled eddie aside and told him it was time to step up and be the man of the house

12 years old: set off the smoke alarm because he was making eggs for his sisters and ramon yelled at him

14 years old: met shannon for the first time

17 years old: reconnected with shannon and started dating

18 years old: gets married and enlists in the army

19 years old: christopher is born

23 years old: reenlists in the army, almost dies and saves the lives of all but one of his team, honorable discharge, then goes home to his mother berating him and shannon leaving him in the same 48 hours

25 years old: his parents try to take custody of christopher and tell him he cannot take care of his son

26 years old: lives and works through a 7.1 magnitude earthquake

27 years old: shannon dies while he sits beside her and can't do anything to save her, buck gets his leg crushed by a ladder truck and eddie can't do anything to save him, christopher and buck get lost in the tsunami and eddie thinks christopher is dead, buck sues the department and legally goes no-contact with eddie and chris, joins an underground fight club and almost kills a man

28 years old: almost dies in a well collapse trying to save a child, goes through the covid-19 pandemic while not able to quarantine with his son

29 years old: tries to start dating his son's former teacher, chris freaks out and eddie thinks he's gone missing, tries to help a child who is being poisoned by his mother, gets shot in the street in broad daylight and almost dies, works through a city-wide blackout, gets held hostage and threatened with a gun before doing chest compressions to keep the man's heart pumping blood to save the man's child, eddie leaves the 118 for a job he hates because he wants christopher to feel like he is safe

30 years old: has a complete and total mental breakdown when he finds out that every single person he saved from the helicopter crash seven years ago is now dead and terrifies his son, starts going to therapy for PTSD, bobby won't let him back to the 118, his place of work goes up in flames and he has to save his coworkers, goes to visit his parents to celebrate his dad's retirement and when he tries to stand up for himself against his parents his father collapses and he has to save him

31 years old: buck gets struck by lightning and dies for 3 minutes and 17 seconds while eddie desperately tries to save him, his aunt tries to set him up on dates with women without telling him, gets crushed in a van and breaks his ribs

32 years old: gets his ankle sprained by buck, sees a doppelganger of shannon and asks her to spend time with him, wakes up to kim purposefully acting and looking exactly like shannon and cannot get her to leave his house, bursts into tears trying to wrestle with his feelings about shannon and kim's behavior, christopher and marisol walks in on him and kim hugging, chris calls eddie's parents and goes to el paso, lets everyone believe he had sex with kim, his parents completely take over chris' life and do not let him reconnect with his son, the fucking beenado, tries to help a teen who cheerleads reconnect with his dad who hates that his son doesn't align with his ideas of masculinity

also 32 years old: next time eddie went to confession

[burnthatbridge]

8x01 misery missing scene

post the sad zoom birthday party also on ao3 if you prefer

They stick around long enough to help clear up. 

The party decorations come down faster than they went up. Each balloon that Buck pops is a perfect mirror to the ball of excitement in his chest that had shattered at Chris’ lacklustre response, at the stuttering video connection. Except, instead of slippery, soft rubber, the shards it left behind are hard, cutting glass. 

“The cake was excellent,” Tommy offers, with forced cheer, into the silence that descends once the sound of balloons bursting and streamers rustling stops. 

“Take the rest with you,” Eddie says, turning away, heading into the kitchen.

Buck follows him, Tommy close behind, and watches Eddie shove the happy birthday banner into the trash, the party hats too. Buck bites his lip on the protest that Eddie should keep them for next year — he doesn’t think he can bear to hear Eddie voice the fear that they might have as little use for them then as they did today. 

“You’re serious about the cake?” Tommy asks, crossing to where it sits on the kitchen table, one solitary slice consumed. Buck had a bite of Tommy’s, and it was good, but he didn’t feel like having his own. And Eddie hadn’t seemed up to stomaching any at all. 

“Yep,” Eddie nods, without looking over. “I don’t want it.” 

Buck pulls a large tupperware container from the cupboard, hands it over to Tommy, who boxes up the cake. But Buck also takes down a smaller container, saves a single slice, and tucks it away in the fridge. He knows Eddie will crave it later — maybe not tonight, but certainly by tomorrow morning — and will wish he hadn’t given it all away. It will be a nice surprise for him — a much needed one — to find that Buck didn’t let him. 

Buck walks the knife used to cut the cake to the sink and Eddie steps in to wash it. Buck hovers at his side, taskless. They had been going to stick around after surprising Chris, have a couple of beers, watch something, but, with how things went, it’s clear that’s not going to happen. 

“Eddie,” Buck starts, wants to ask if he’s okay — knows he’s not — but Eddie cuts him off. 

“Thanks for coming,” he says, clearly a dismissal, bidding them goodnight without looking up for scrubbing at a knife that must be long clean. 

Tommy replies, “Thank you for inviting us,” even though technically only he was; Buck — never a guest in Eddie’s home — more co-host than attendee, had helped to plan the party, and his presence was assumed, certain. 

At the same time, Buck says, “Of course.” He wouldn’t have been anywhere else today, on Chris’ birthday. Not unless flying to Texas to actually see him would have been an option. Hell, if Eddie had wanted to drive over to El Paso to visit, Buck would have gladly played chauffeur for the whole twelve hour drive. 

Tommy drops a reassuring hand onto the stiff surface that is Eddie’s shoulder, pats it, once, twice, three times, to no noticeable softening. “See you later, man.” He moves to the kitchen door, pauses, looking back at Buck. 

Buck takes a tentative step in Tommy’s direction, says, “See you tomorrow, Eds?” It’s supposed to be a statement, like Tommy’s. A stronger one, even, since Buck and Eddie have a shift together the next day, so their seeing each other should be a concrete occurrence, not a vague likelihood. But the words come out sounding more like a question and he doesn’t follow Tommy out of the room until he sees Eddie nod in answer, agreement. 

They only make it as far as the front door before the gnawing concern in Buck’s gut is too much.  

“Wait,” Buck says as Tommy turns the handle.

Tommy stops, door cracked open an inch, but not opening it any wider, and twists to face Buck, looks at him, expectant. 

“I think–” Buck starts, but he doesn’t quite know what he thinks, only that he shouldn’t be leaving now. Even though there’s nothing left to do: all traces of the party stripped away, their evening plans abandoned. Still, he shouldn’t be leaving. Shouldn’t be leaving Eddie. Not like this.

And he should tell Tommy that, explain it to him. Except… He probably doesn’t need to. Tommy knows him, knows Eddie, and he saw firsthand how things went down tonight. So Buck simply asks, “Can I make my own way? Catch you later?”

“Sure, babe.” Tommy’s expression is full of understanding, eyes soft. He tilts his head, slightly. “I’ll wait up for you?”

Buck nods. “Yeah, please.” He leans in, putting his mouth to Tommy’s mouth, pressing goodbye and gratitude into the kiss. 

Tommy pulls back, graces Buck with a small curling of his lips, the smile dimmer than his usual given how the evening has played out, and then he’s over the threshold, toting the tupperware filled to the brim with uncelebrated birthday cake with him. 

Buck closes the door behind him, gently, then pads back through the house. 

Eddie is in the kitchen, but not quite how Buck left him. He’s still facing away, but now, instead of washing the same spot on the blade of the cake knife over and over, he has his hands braced on the edge of the counter, his head hanging down, like the effort of keeping it up has become too much.

He’s got to know Buck hasn’t left, must hear him reentering the room, a single set of footsteps, but he doesn’t acknowledge him in any way. 

Buck goes to him. Stands at Eddie’s side, tries to see his expression in his dim reflection in the window, but it’s tricky with Eddie’s face lowered. “Eddie,” Buck says and is finally rewarded with Eddie looking up, raising his head so that his eyes meet Buck’s in the window.

The agony in his gaze is palpable.

Buck doesn’t know how to help. He saw how little comfort Eddie took from Tommy’s touch, so it seems pointless to try the same. But his hands itch to hold, to smooth over Eddie and check for points of pain, even though he knows his hurt is of the heart, not body. Knows it, because his own is the same. Buck hurts too: for Chris, for Eddie, for himself. 

“Eddie,” Buck repeats, with no destination in mind except a route out of Eddie’s misery. But, if anything, the anguish displayed plainly on Eddie’s face only deepens. He squeezes his eyes shut and his hands fist, fingers curling in so tight his knuckles whiten. 

“I’m losing him,” Eddie says. 

“You’re not,” Buck answers back, automatic, but no less insistent for it. Eddie isn’t losing Chris. He can’t be losing him. They can’t be losing him. 

“I am,” Eddie pushes back, lifting his hands from the counter to gesture wildly, grief uncontainable. “I’m losing him and it’s all my fault.”

“No.” Buck catches Eddie’s wrists, squeezes them, tries to press his belief, his faith, in Chris and Eddie’s relationship into Eddie’s skin, to transfer it to him. “You made a mistake, but he’s going to forgive you. He just needs a little more time.“

“I don’t think I can take any more time without him,” Eddie confesses, and there are tears shining in his eyes. 

Buck drops his hold on Eddie’s arms, but only so he can wind his own around him, tug him into an embrace.

Eddie lets him, tucks his face into Buck’s neck, chokes out, “I just want him to come home.”

“I know,” Buck murmurs, smoothing one hand down the line of Eddie’s spine, his other arm wrapped firmly round his shoulders. “I know. I do too.”

“He loves his grandparents,” Eddie goes on, voice muffled in Buck’s shirt collar. “He could decide to just stay with them.”

“He loves you,” Buck states, an irrefutable fact. This he knows: he has been privileged to witness so much of the love Christopher has for his dad. “He’s not going to stay with them forever.”

“But,” Eddie protests, sounding lost and unsure, his fingers wound in the fabric of Buck’s shirt, his breath damp against Buck skin, “You love your parents. That doesn’t make them good ones. Ones you’d want to be with if you had a better option.”

“You are��nothing like my parents.” Buck squeezes Eddie tighter to him, in tune with the ferocity of his words. “You– you are the best father I have ever seen. You love Chris so, so much. And– and he knows you do, he doesn’t have to doubt it.” Not like Buck did, every day of his life.

He continues, “Your mom and dad are not the better option for him. Sure, he’s having a nice summer with them. But, even if he’s still upset right now, I know he’s missing you too. He’s going to come home, because he belongs here, with you.” Of that Buck is sure. It’s Chris and Eddie: their bond is too deep, their relationship too strong, to be broken. 

“But,” Eddie says again, “But what if he–”

“No,” Buck stops him, not willing to let Eddie hurt himself with his thoughts, his fears, more than he already has. “Chris loves you, Eddie. And he’s going to come home to you. He is.”

Buck doesn’t know if Eddie fully believes him, but his words are enough that Eddie slumps completely against him in something like relief. And all his stress and hurt over being separated from his son comes pouring out.

As he sobs, the spasming of his chest heaving against Buck’s and the trickle of his tears sliding down Buck’s skin, Buck holds him. Holds him and presses his lips to his temple and thinks please, Chris, please come home soon. Come home to us. 

[nubuckleather]

Eddie comes back from Vegas and he’s like … “Buck, do you remember Tommy Kinard?” and Buck very dishonestly says “yeah that pilot guy you’re friends with now, right?” like he didn’t spend the whole evening trying to explode Tommy and/or Eddie with his mind, he’s not sure, and Eddie’s like “yeah so I think last night we got married.”

and Buck waits for his psychic abilities to rage-manifest but they don’t so he says “Eddie, man, haha, you’re straight” and Eddie says “yeah well about that, we had wedding night sex and I definitely liked it more than I think I would have if I was straight” and Buck very seriously considers calling up Taylor to see if she’s got anything going on that night and would she like to inadvisably hook up because apparently everyone’s doing it

but he talks himself off that ledge and says “well you guys are going to get divorced right,” and Eddie’s like “yeah he’s already started on the paperwork but would it be crazy if I asked him out so we could try doing things in the right order?” and Buck is like, fuck it, I’m shooting Abby an email asking her for recommendations for Europeans haunts to completely ghost your old life in—

except he’d miss Maddie and Chris and Bobby too much so he’s stuck hanging around while Eddie very shyly comes out to his son, and starts kissing Tommy every time he brings him coffee at the station, and of course Tommy is nice enough to bring coffee for everybody else too, so Buck pours his down the sink without having a sip

and now when he goes to the Diaz house to pick Chris up for a Buck and Chris Day, Tommy’s there cuddling Eddie on the couch, or washing the dishes, or mowing the yard in a very revealing tank, which, who’s he showing off for if he’s supposed to dating Buck’s best friend anyway?? Buck should be the one wearing slutty clothes since he’s the one who’s single. which he does. to prove a point.

and Eddie and Tommy keep inviting him to hang out with them and Eddie keeps saying it’s important all his best guys get along, so what’s Buck supposed to say to that? no to going the beach and bowling and the airfield with them? no to going out to dinner at a very classy upscale restaurant? no to drinking too much pinot noir and going have a crisis bathroom? no to accepting their invitation to go to Vegas the next week?

no to stumbling into the Vegas hotel room feeling finally feeling those mental explosions going off in a new way with Eddie gasping into his neck and Eddie’s hands curling around his hips and the look in Tommy’s eyes not being jealous at all, but hungry? and has Buck always wanted to kiss his best friend’s boyfriend like that? and why does it seem, from the way Eddie’s steering him toward Tommy, that said best friend very much wants that to happen in front of him, right this second?

and when Buck wakes up the next morning, and Eddie’s nestled in the dip of his collarbone and Tommy’s hand is splayed possessively over his stomach, there’s no rings or certificates. but Buck has said “I do” to something, and as the morning sun streams in through the windows since they forgot to pull down the shades, he can’t really bring himself to regret it

[spotsandsocks]

A Place for You, Next to Me Chapt 1 and 2

Buck finds out that Eddie doesn’t really ‘do’ birthdays so what’s a best friend supposed to do, obviously he can’t let Eddie think he doesn't care. So he makes a plan to celebrate and it’s a good plan, it really is and is it really his fault if one little thing goes wrong with their booking.

It’s certainly not his fault that Eddie’s reaction to the unexpected problem would turn a pleasant weekend away into an agony of temptation.

A tale of pining and love and only one bed.

Fans of only one bed shenanigans - this one’s for you.🥹🌈🛏️🎂🛏️🥃🥃🥃🛏️🤯😍🌈❤️‍🔥 Chapt 1&2 today 3&4 tomorrow 💕

Now I was half way though writing this when @bobbysfirehose posted this stunning piece of art that blew my mind away (all their art is magnificent btw so go check out and shower with love) and with permission I tried to describe the pose towards at the end of the fic because it was just perfect for the situation, so you have a nice visual to go along with the words.

Eddie hadn’t expected any reaction at all, least of all the one he’s getting. Standing in his kitchen he watches Buck process the information he just casually mentioned as part of thier conversation about Chris’ next birthday.

“Are you serious?” 

His best friend is standing there with his mouth hanging open, eyes wide, a puzzled frown on his brow, it’s adorable and amusing and God he loves this man so much. Eddie however is wise enough to look away and keep the sentiment out of his voice.

“Yes I’m serious, Buck. I’ve never done anything special to celebrate any of my birthdays.”

If anything that simple statement makes matters worse, Buck's mouth opens and shuts. He looks like a goldfish, apparently he’s managed to render him speechless and that’s quite an impressive feat.

Eddie takes another sip of beer to hide his smile as Buck flounders. The other man is looking horrified, “Your 15th? That’s special right?”

He shrugs. “Dad was away. We did some stuff at church, nothing big. I got a cake.”

“What about 18?  Or or your 21st?” 

He throws Buck a raised eyebrow, “Think about that for a second.”

A pained look crosses his friend’s face “Oh.” Then his nose crinkles “ Oh.. I don’t think I want to.”

Buck sounds upset. Eddie can just imagine what he’s thinking, how he’s comparing the life that he himself had between 16 and 21 with the one Eddie had. The tragic sympathy emanating out of sad pools of blue is a bit much though, it really wasn’t that bad. Yeah, he didn’t get a lot of time to be young but that’s ok he got other stuff instead. He ended up with the best kid in the world so he can’t really complain about missing birthday celebrations. 

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me, so my life’s been a bit different than yours, but that’s ok . Still got cake, even got a balloon once.” 

His joke falls flat, Buck looks devastated .

“Honestly, all completely normal, I promise, don’t freak out on me.”

He moves around him heading back to the couch and if he touches his arm on the way past, well it’s a tight space to squeeze through. Buck’s own fault really, for filling so much of it. His friend's voice follows him out of the kitchen. 

“But nothing since you got old?”

Eddie turns just so Buck can appreciate the eye roll, “I'm not exactly old Buck, I’m the same age as you.”

“Are we sure about that?” 

Abruptly Buck’s mood shifts and he’s teasing, humour replacing the tragic look that had been there only seconds ago.

“You do kinda look older than me. Pretty sure I spotted some gray hairs on you the other day.”

Eddie glares and throws a handy cushion without aiming. Buck catches it easily and grins, before taking another swig of beer. Eddie tries not to watch his lips or his throat too closely.

[buddie-buddie]

It rains on the way home.

Something about it feels fitting, Buck thinks. He leans his head against the car window, staring as a large droplet snakes its way down the glass in a slow, winding trail. Outside the car, the streetlights flick on, soft halos of light reflected in the shine of the wet pavement.

The rhythmic patter of raindrops against the windshield and the steady beat of the wipers is steady and soothing, almost enough to drown out the ache in his chest.

Almost, but not quite.

The soft glow of passing headlights casts fleeting shadows inside the car as they make their way back downtown to the loft.

The night feels heavy, pressing down on him in a way he can’t shake. His mind is 800 miles away, somewhere in the suburbs of El Paso.

Tommy glances over at him from the driver’s seat, the air between them thick with things unsaid.

“You’ve been quiet,” Tommy’s voice cuts through the silence, soft and gentle in a way that makes Buck’s heart squeeze. “You want to talk about it?”

Buck swallows hard, sighs. “I don’t know,” he mutters, his voice strained. “It’s just... tonight sucked. Seeing Chris like that... not reacting, not even looking at us—” He cuts himself off, draws in a deep, shaky breath. “I know he’s hurting. I know it’s between him and Eddie. But it feels like... like…” he trails off, unable to find the words to properly articulate the ache that’s settled deep inside his chest.

“Like he’s pulling away from you, too,” Tommy finishes for him, his voice gentle but certain.

Buck glances at Tommy, a flicker of something passing through his tired eyes—relief, maybe, at being understood. Tommy’s hand moves from the steering wheel to rest gently on Buck’s thigh, a welcome, reassuring warmth. His thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle against the fabric of Buck’s jeans, grounding him with the simple touch.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes. “And Eddie... God, I hate seeing him like that. He was trying so hard, and Chris...”

Tommy’s eyes flick between the road and Buck’s face, reading him effortlessly. “I know,” he says. “This is… it’s hard right now. But it’s not forever.”

Buck lets out another shaky breath, his chest tight. It’s not just about Christopher practically ignoring them tonight. It’s deeper than that— seeing Eddie struggle, watching helplessly as his own bond with Chris starts to fade, feeling the sting of that loss himself. It hurts in a way he can’t quite describe.

He leans back in his seat, closing his eyes as he swallows down the lump in his throat.

Tommy parks outside of Buck’s building, but he doesn’t make a move to get out. Instead, he turns to face Buck properly. There’s a warmth in his eyes, something so soft and so fond, it has Buck’s heart swelling in his chest.

“Hey,” Tommy says gently, squeezing Buck’s thigh reassuringly. “He’ll come around. He’s a kid. He’s hurting, and he’s still angry, but he’s not gone forever. He needs time, and so does Eddie. But you and Chris? That bond? It’s ironclad. A rough call and a few months apart won’t even crack the foundation, let alone undo it.”

Buck closes his eyes for a moment, letting Tommy’s words ease the knot in his chest. Tommy shifts, leaning in closer, his hand moving up to the back of Buck’s neck. Buck’s shoulders slump, his breath shaky as he leans into Tommy’s touch, finally letting himself feel the weight of everything. “I just want him to be okay,” he murmurs. He’s not sure who he’s talking about— Christopher or Eddie.

Maybe both of them.

Tommy’s thumb brushes over the nape of his neck, a quiet comfort that settles something deep within Buck’s chest. “He will be,” Tommy says, pressing a soft kiss to Buck’s temple. “And you will be, too.”

For the first time all night, Buck feels a small, tentative flash of hope breaking through the heaviness still weighing on him.

His heart still breaks for Eddie, still misses Chris so much it physically hurts. But here, with Tommy, the weight of it all feels a little less crushing.

also on ao3

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

Not to beat a dead horse, but Buck and Eddie’s arcs are perfectly aligned for a love realization from both of them very very soon. Buck has just been informed textually that he has his “last” to look forward to, that he’s “ready” now that his first is no more. And the last scenes of the midseason finale (not to mention the interviews) showed us beyond a shadow of a doubt that Buck is about to crash out over Eddie. Specifically. Edmundo Diaz. Moving to Texas. And yes, this is an Eddie-centric crash out because Buck already had all of summer and into November to process missing Christopher, even if it was never meant to be a permanent separation. But now his best friend has told him that he’s going to move back to El Paso, and suddenly it’s all Buck can focus on. How strange!

And Eddie. Eddie was just told that he should allow himself joy, anything that brings specifically him joy. He danced, he teased, and then he impulsively leaped right into moving halfway across the country to be with his baby again. He’s still doing things for others, as much as moving would reunite him with Christopher, he’s doing it because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, not because it would be right for him (or even both of them). He’s contemplating leaving his found family (Buck included) behind because he is still so focused on the Chris of it all. And as a parent, he can’t bring himself to do anything less, even if actually moving to El Paso would bring him insane levels of stress and pressure from his mother (and possibly his father). He’s following Christopher’s lead even though it’s been months, and nothing about their relationship has really improved. He’s not finding his joy again, as much as he might lie to himself that reuniting with Christopher is all it will take. Eddie still doesn’t see what’s right in front of him. That his best friend and partner in nearly every way would sacrifice anything to make Eddie happy again, to bring Eddie joy. He doesn’t see that Buck makes him laugh even when he’s spiraling because all he can see right now is his son. But if they continue the thread of finding joy, then Eddie will absolutely understand after he spends a little time in El Paso, or even just planning to leave while Buck is boarding up his heart.

They’ve been so close other times, i.e. The Couch Theory, but this time it is all textual. They are the person each of them spends the most time with outside of the work scenes. The person they go to for support. The one who listens to their needs, and tries their best to help, or to be that supportive shoulder. We haven’t gotten a Buck and Maddie scene or an Eddie and Bobby scene. It has just been these two men, sitting in their kitchens, their living rooms, the hospital room, comfortably inside each other’s spaces and heads. They are glaringly obvious partners. It would absolutely insane not to tell this story all the way to it’s rightful ending.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Favorite Season 6 fics

So these used to be called "Fic recs for my BFF", but unfortunately I was unable to sway her to buddie, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ these are just for me now (and you guys too I guess 😅)

Season 6

🔥Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Animal Transformation | 10K | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.

🔥let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): “It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.” “So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.” or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

🔥like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): The kid with blood pouring down his shins is not so far from the dog lonely enough that he thinks breaking his housetraining is worth it for the ten minutes of berating that come with it, the ten minutes of undivided, if reluctant, attention. Buck thinks, sometimes, that at least he wasn’t the kind of puppy that gets put in a sack and drowned at birth. He wasn’t always unwanted. And he isn’t anymore. or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

🔥Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. — Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together. (Part 1 of homeward bound)

🔥find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): It’s something about the way Eddie phrases it. Something about the combination of his words and the way he’s staring down at the floor, and the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s fidgeting. Buck thinks, abruptly, he’s going to ask me on a date. “Well I - wanted to tell you first, and I need someone to watch Chris, anyways - I know he’s getting old enough now he doesn’t like feeling like he’s got a babysitter, so I was hoping - sorry. Not the point. Uh. I have a date on Saturday.” Just as abruptly as his own hopes had come soaring up above the cloud cover of his own unawareness - they go crashing back down to the floor - to the basement, and into the mud. “A date?” Buck rasps out. — the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief

🔥Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-S6, Getting Together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

🔥 Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

🔥 where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (or: Buck can see that people become transparent when they're about to die) (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)

🔥 Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): "I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie? You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @lonelychicago (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

🔥listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee/ @theladyyavilee (Presumed Dead | 41K | Teen): The thing is – and Eddie should have known this, has been taught this cruel lesson over and over and over again – the thing is most of the time the worst day of your life will start like just any other day. A million small moments, so familiar and mundane you almost don’t even notice them slipping by - until you would give anything to go back and get just one more. (You can’t.) — Or the one where Buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and Eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone

🔥Eddie Diaz vs The Feelings by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Season 6, Sexuality Crisis, Demisexual Eddie | 62K | Explicit): Eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. AKA demisexual!Eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for

🔥tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): "Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin. "Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug." Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle— (OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

🔥 Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6, Amnesia AU | 40K | Teen): After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.

🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

AUs

🔥Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU, Post-S4E13: Suspicion | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

🔥like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie. He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. [or buck can see ghosts au]

🔥All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.

🔥 let it pour out of your soul series by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Magical Realism AU, Witch Eddie | 3 works | 71K | Complete):

collectively unconsciously composed (S4E6: Jinx | 46K | Explicit): Or: in which the author re-watched Buck Begins and Jinx and thought: what if this was gayer and had actual magic?

that systematic drug (PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie’s mouth goes dry when he opens the door and sees Buck. He’s clean-shaven and with his hair carefully styled back, smiling at Eddie sweetly and a little teasingly. Buck is wearing his dark jeans and his light blue v-neck polo shirt, the one that’s tight enough that it shows off the bulge of his biceps and the definition of his pecs and abs. Eddie knows this shirt. Buck's favourite, because he knows he looks good in it.

something binding us together (Established Buddie | 20K | Teen): Or: Eddie plans a long-avoided visit to his parents, discovers some things about his magic, and begins to build his family a home in LA's witching community.