#and eddie would blink and be like. well. hes. hes buck. you know. hes my best friend.

[tommygotwrittenoff]

the fact that eddie and maddie have never interacted outside a group setting is so funny actually. you cannot tell me those two wouldnt get on like a house on fire. i fear the day we get a solo maddie and eddie scene is the day we get buddie canon

[alchemistc]

He's drunk when he sends it. Pissed because Buck won't just let this die. Tired of seeing his name flash across his screen, texts full of anger and sadness and hurt.

I suspect you've already met your last and it's not me he sends, and then turns off his phone and reaches for the bottle of whiskey on his top shelf.

---

If he'd been sober he would have known better. It's not even like it's been a pervasive thought - just an inkling at the start of things that seemed to be completely off base once he got to know everyone better, but looking back... He can see it. The built in life. The steadfast support. The knowledge that they'd always, always have each other's back. The kid who hero worshipped him.

The thing is he's fielding texts from Eddie, too, checking in and then circling around to being so goddamn judgmental that it's like they've coordinated their attacks to give Tommy no room to breathe.

He ended it to save himself from slipping so far under the surface he wouldn't make it back.

The fact that he's lost them both to his own fear is icing on the cake for the demon on his shoulder that keeps trying to remind him that once upon a time he'd fully thought Eddie and Buck were amicable exes.

---

He has to blink to figure out who's standing on his doorstep. The mustache is gone.

"If you meant who I think you mean, you're dumber than you look," Eddie says, and shoulders past Tommy before Tommy can even muster an affronted expression.

Tommy wanders after Eddie into his own kitchen, immediately annoyed that he looks more at home there than Tommy has felt in weeks. He'd gotten used to the loft - the space, the echoes, the lights of the city. The smell of his own aftershave on Buck's pillow.

They never spent much time here. The loft was closer - to Harbor, to the 118, to all the things in the city that tempted them out for a night. And staying at the loft meant he wouldn't have the echoes of Buck in every room, around every corner. (The echoes are in him, instead, and he still feels the absence like a lanced wound.) Tommy has always been good at making other people think he's good at putting distance between himself and them.

Eddie digs in a drawer, pulls out the bottle opener shaped like a cow and pops two tops. Holds one out for Tommy and scowls when Tommy wrinkles his nose at the Corona.

"Absolutely screw you if you think I'm driving halfway across town for you just to get the ones you like, right now."

Tommy can't argue that. He takes a drag and swallows. Stares. Is everyone else experiencing whiplash seeing him without the mustache? It looks fine but it'd taken so much fucking work to get used to it and now it's just gone. Clean shaven, an acre of skin he hasn't seen in months.

Tommy blinked and the entire world was different. Tommy freaked and the world changed.

"What are you doing here?"

Eddie's eyebrows both lift, a frank Are You Fucking Serious look on his face that makes Tommy want to take him to the mats and have it out in the garage instead of over beers.

"Buck may be spinning his wheels trying to figure out what the fuck you meant but I know damn well what you were implying."

That seems unlikely. Eddie always seems to be the last person to have a single clue what was going on, with Buck scraping in just before him. It's a tight race.

He used to find it charming.

(He absolutely does not still find it charming, he tells his heart, and wonders if he could hire some tiny asshole gnome to go stomp around in an atrium or two and get it to stop doing what it's doing. Fucking traitor.)

"Do you actually believe that, or is it some dumb excuse because you're terrified of being happy?"

Oh, that's fucking rich.

Tommy opens his mouth to tell him exactly that but Eddie just steamrolls right by him. "You don't have to point out the hypocrisy, jackass. I'm well aware of my own issues. Thing is - you're like, almost right. Buck does make me happy. Next to Chris there's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side, rain or shine, good or bad. I love him. He's my person."

Tommy rolls his jaw. It's not a vindication to hear it.

"Except I'm not gay, Tommy. And I don't want that. I never have. And neither does Buck, just in case that argument was about to hit the airwaves."

"How do you know?"

Something sparks in the back of Eddie's eyes. Understanding. Triumph.

"You want an itemized list or a demonstration?"

Which is when Tommy knows he's stepped into an absolute minefield. No markers. Just free balling his way through a conversation that could explode with even the slightest pressure.

Eddie's got his phone out.

None of this is ideal.

When he looks up, his eyes land squarely on Tommy, who would like in this moment to be able to curl so far in on himself he gets sucked clean through the other side. "First of all, Buck may have just been improvising his entire journey of sexuality but for once I was trying to get ahead of the curve so that whole starry-eyed newly not straight vision you have of Buck is bullshit. You let him pull you along by the shirt strings for months without pressing pause and then you freak out when he thinks his speed and your speed are the same speed?"

This is feeling a whole lot like an ambush, now.

"Did you ever even try to slow him down?"

Tommy has some choice words that aren't remotely appropriate to say to someone who is at least tangentially still his friend, so he takes another swig of shitty beer. God, this shit is awful.

"You wanna know how I know I'm not his one? How I know he's not mine?"

Tommy really, really doesn't. Honestly he'd like to kick him out.

"Because he went at our friendship at the same warp speed pace he took your relationship and it never fucking scared me."

Proof in the pudding, for Tommy. He's not the sort of jackass who actually thinks he can make a different judgement call on someone else's sexuality than the one they've made themselves, but come on.

"Shannon's been dead for half a decade," Eddie says, voice dropping so suddenly Tommy feels it like an icy draft. "And maybe one day I'll make my peace with that. Maybe one day I'll get out from under it. The point is I've lost them both and the loss wasn't the goddamn same."

"Buck came back," Tommy argues.

Eddie scoffs. Wrinkles his nose. "Jeez, he wasn't kidding about how weird that sounds." His phone buzzes on the countertop, and Tommy wonders what the hell that look on his face means. "Don't change the subject. I'm not here to talk you into anything. I'm just here to drink a beer with you and tell you how goddamn stupid it is to think that an uncertain future with Evan Buckley isn't worth every second of terror it causes you."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do."

Eddie tips the bottle against his lips. Swallows. God, why hadn't Tommy just pursued the self-proclaimed straight guy for a couple weeks before he scratched the itch somewhere else and kept a friend, instead?

"Maybe." Eddie tips his head. "Maybe I do, though. Maybe in the months and months you were invited to all my mopey nights in with Buck and all the crazy crap we end up involved in at the station and all the times you couldn't shut up about him when he wasn't around and all the times I got to see you falling ass over teakettle for my best friend, I learned a fucking thing or two about Tommy Kinard." He wags his head back and forth. "Maybe."

"Is there a point to this?"

Eddie tips his eyes to his phone, and it's probably too late at this point for the suspicion to begin to creep in.

"I mostly just came to confront you about your completely off base bullshit excuses, but there's actually a pretty simple solution to at least one of your multitude of issues, so. Now we're waiting."

Tommy doesn't like the sound of that at all.

"Chris is mad at you, by the way."

It's a distraction. It's fully a - "Why is he mad at me?"

"I should actually thank you, because it's the first time he's actively talked to me in months," Eddie continues, like Tommy hadn't asked a question. "He's pissed because Buck is sad and there's literally nothing in the world that gets a rise out of the Diaz boys like sad Buck."

"You can just say you're pissed at me and go, Eddie."

"Oh I'm angry. Don't think I'm not. Mostly I'm just sad for you. You had six months to get to know Buck and never thought to yourself 'hes going to love me and it's going to hurt' until he skipped too far ahead in the program."

And that's - kind of the final straw. He's let Eddie get his licks in. He deserves it, he knows he does. Honestly it's a little cathartic to hear - to know exactly what Buck has spent his time dissecting post-Tommy. "That's all I ever thought about. Do you think I didn't know going in? I tried to put a stop to it before it even started and he just doubled down! Do you think for a second I wasn't viscously aware that I was setting myself up for -."

No. He's not gonna say it. He's not giving that to Eddie when he couldn't even give it to Ev-Buck. When he couldn't give it to Buck.

Eddie looks victorious anyway.

"And for six months you thought it was worth it."

"For six months I was too much of a coward to stop thinking about it."

Eddie drains the rest of his beer. "I'm not gonna lie. You screwed up pretty bad. Like. Astronomically bad. Giving up your location in a firefight bad."

Tommy does everything he can not to wince.

"It's salvageable, though. If you want it to be. If there's anything I know about Buck it's that second chances are his bread and butter." He's been dancing around saying anything of substance about Buck's feelings, in all of this, but the hints are there. As if the bouts of angry-depressive texts from Buck weren't clue enough.

"And what if it's not what I want?"

Eddie's eyes dart to his phone one more time. "Then you can make it a clean break in about ... three and a half minutes."

Tommy nearly tosses his beer across the room.

[peppermintquartz]

Canon divergence in that Buck does call Tommy the next time he's free, asking to go up in a chopper (instead of the harebrained scheme of going to the BBPU game)

+-

"And that's my favorite view," says Tommy, angling the helicopter to face the Pacific. It's late in the morning so sunlight glitters on the water like diamonds scattered on blue silk.

Buck shields his eyes with his hands. "It's beautiful!" he exclaims, almost giddy with delight at the panorama.

"It is. And at night, I like to look the other way, at the city spread out before me." Tommy's aviator sunglasses hide his eyes but his big smile is on full display.

Buck can't help the shiver in his belly every time he looks at Tommy. It's clear the air is his element. Already Buck knows that Tommy is very competent - they wouldn't have pulled off the rescue otherwise - but here, without anything to distract them, Buck sees how the chopper is an extension of Tommy himself. A deft touch, a slight adjustment, and the vehicle moves smoothly for Tommy to point out different landmarks from the sky.

By the time they land, Buck's spirits are still soaring. He's spent forty minutes flying with Tommy, who not only talked about the mechanics of flying, but also answered almost all of Buck's questions without ever sounding bored. In fact, he seems happy that Buck has done some research before he came for the ride.

"Okay, now I really need to buy you that beer, and also a meal." Buck wants to bounce on his heels. He feels lighter than air, like he's just a balloon full of happy emotions.

Tommy grins, shrugging as he tucks his aviators into a pocket. "I'm free for the rest of the day," he says. Ducking his head, he adds, "Didn't feel too good leaving you alone the other day to go watch the fight, but I didn't think we'd take two hours to tour Harbor Station either."

Buck's cheeks flush. He remembers being irrationally angry when Eddie and Tommy flew off, and he did go home to pummel his pillow a little before sulking. But he's done the mature thing, which is ask Tommy for a flight demo, instead of something insane like figure out what other activities he would be doing or events he would attend and try to show up there like a toy surprise.

"Well, that was because I wanted to find out so much, and it's really your fault, because you answered everything in detail." Buck falls in step with the older man as they head to Tommy's car. "You have to be accountable for your mistakes."

Tommy laughs. Buck feels tingly and proud that he's made that happen. Daringly, he nudges Tommy's elbow with his.

"So, what would you like for lunch?" Buck asks. "My treat, as thanks for the flight."

"Sure," says Tommy with an easy smile. As they approach the car, Tommy halts.

Buck stops as well, a little concerned. "Everything okay?"

Tilting his head, Tommy studies Buck, and then his expression grows a little more nervous and serious. "I... I don't wanna presume anything, and I want you to know that, regardless of anything I'm about to say, I wanna be your friend."

Buck blinks at the older man. "Okay, um. What's this about?"

"Evan, before we go to lunch, I kinda wanna know what's going on here? I mean..." Tommy licks his lips, and Buck's gaze snaps to Tommy's mouth. "You're adorable and you're funny and, well. You're a gorgeous guy. I'm not... I'm not really sure why you wanna spend time with me. And I don't wanna get my hopes up if this is just me reading the signs wrongly."

"Uh, signs?"

Tommy's face falls. He glances away, wiping his hand over his mouth, and licks his lips again. "Shit. I've read you wrong."

Buck reaches out to touch Tommy's wrist. "Tommy, I'm not sure what you're saying."

Tommy looks back at Buck, blue eyes taking in the younger man's expression, and sighs. He flips his hand over to hold the tips of Buck's fingers.

"Hell. Might as well lay my cards out," he mutters, mostly to himself, and then looks - really looks - at Buck. "Evan, I'm gay. And these couple times we've met up, I really, really like how we click. I like your energy, and how earnest and open you are. And it doesn't hurt that you are one of the most attractive men I've ever met, and I really like spending time with you, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping I can ask you out for a date and maybe we can... find out if we could. If we could be more than friends."

There's an anxious cast to his features. Buck can see Tommy's jaw clench and the nervous swallow, and a part of Buck's mind is screaming static. Another part of him is frantically stammering, "I'm just an ally!!" But thankfully that part of him has no control of his mouth, because he instead steps closer to Tommy and-

Oh. Oh.

So that's how it feels to kiss a guy.

He pulls back slightly, but is stopped by the touch of fingers under his chin, and Tommy draws him back for a second kiss, his head angled, and-

Wow. Wow, okay. They're near the airfield in the parking lot and the breeze is cool and the sun is shining nice and warm and they are kissing, Buck is kissing Tommy and this feels right.

When they finally separate, possibly two centuries later, Buck blinks at Tommy. His face feels hot and his skin is tingling. With a small, happy grin, he says, "I would say yes to the date, if that helps."

Tommy chuckles. He licks his lips again and Buck forces himself to look away from those lips. "Okay. I'd like to ask you out on a date on Saturday night, if you're free."

"I... I'm free." Buck's grin grows brighter. He tilts his head. "Lunch, now?"

[theoraeeken]

I saw a post a while ago about Tommy and Buck running into Buck's exes, but I'd be interested in them running into Tommy's exes (boyfriend and/or girlfriends)

i spent such a long time fleshing out an OC for this tiny little oneshot but i could not get this out of my head gfhdhsjjdf.

EDIT: okay this isn't tiny and maybe i got over excited.

bucktommy / rated t / prompt requests still open

-

"Tommy?"

Chim stops mid-sentence, hands still up in a gesture, and his mouth is a little open as he looks over Buck's shoulder, behind him. Hen and Eddie seem similarly afflicted. Confused, Buck turns around, and-

Woah.

Buck's not unfamiliar with attractive people - he works in an environment with a lot of hot, athletic people, who do insane, heroic things, and since discovering that he's playing equal time for both teams, the pool of people that are nice to look at has grown considerably. That's a given. But... woah.

Green. Very green eyes.

"Dan! Oh, shit, how long has it been?" Tommy grins, getting up quickly enough that his chair scrapes against the concrete.

Hen and Chimney are doing their freaky psychic parademic mind melding communication thing, which mostly involves a lot of eyebrow movement and head tilting, and Eddie is glancing from Dan to Buck like he's nervous. This was supposed to be a chill little brunch, a catch up between friends. It's nice, being able to bring his partner to brunch like this, the same way Hen brings Karen and Chim brings Maddie. He never brought Ali, or Taylor, or any of his girlfriends. For reasons he could never quite pinpoint, he never wanted to let his worlds collide like that.

But Tommy is already part of his world. He's got inside jokes with Chim and Hen that Buck still doesn't quite get. He brings his own stories about the job, and he can laugh at everyone elses without getting maudlin and worried the way any of Buck's exes would. Tommy is as much a part of Buck's world as Buck is of his.

Except, Tommy's world apparantly has other things in it. Like Dan. Dan with the very green eyes, and the black hair swept carelessly back off his face like he thinks he's a 90's movie star, a little grey peppered at his temples and a t-shirt that has to be at least two sizes too small. Dan with his arm around Tommy's shoulder, and a 1000 watt smile dangerously close to Tommy's mouth, like he's not 100% committed to pulling out of this extremely long hug.

"What are you doing in California? You miss the sunshine?" Tommy asks, his hand still very noticably on Dan's hip.

"Don't even say that, those Oregon winters are no joke," he huffs, "Nah, I'm down for my sister's wedding."

"Emily's getting married? What the hell, she was barely out of college last time I checked."

"Yeah, Tommy, that was six years ago," he laughs, "All grown up now, marrying some IT geek from San Diego. Don't know what he did to deserve her, but my balls have been well and truly threatened if I give him anymore shit."

They chat for another few minutes, completely oblivious to the audience they have, oblivious to the way that Buck's hands are clenching into fists under the table. Tommy's usually so poised, straight-backed, almost stoic. Even his humour is deadpan, but Buck relishes the moments where he can tease easy smiles and full body laughs and dorky jokes out of him. Dan and his pretty eyes seem to have that down pat, too.

"Uh, I feel like I've crashed a party here, Tom."

Tommy blinks, looking back over at their table.

"Shit, sorry," he says, "I should have said. These are the good folks of the 118 firehouse. You probably know Hen and Howie by reputation, and this is Karen and Maddie," Tommy indicates each of them in turn, and they give a wave, "That's Eddie, and this is my boyfriend, Evan."

He says is so casually, like it costs him nothing, and it drags a smile out him the way it always does. Boyfriend. Buck stands, offering a hand. There are still half-cresent marks on his palm from where he'd dug his nails in.

"Good to meet you, man."

"You too, Evan."

"Buck," he says reflexively, "People call me Buck."

"Sure," he says easily.

Tommy is staring at him, face unreadable, but he smiles anyway, polite, almost professional.

"This is Dan Archer, and he used to be the best damn EMT in California," he says, clapping him on the shoulder, "until he deserted us for the PFR."

"Portland, huh? That's a good department to work for, from what I hear," Hen grins, "You guys were trialling those new electric ambulances in 2019, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Dan laughs, "All green, baby. Not that it matters when you're pulling another hiker out the Cascades in mid-December, but for some reason no one wanted to put the funding into my caterpillar-tread gurneys idea."

Chim snorts, "Shit, that's a good one. We should start lobbying for that, Hen."

"Ain't that the truth," she mutters.

"I don't have that problem," Tommy says smugly. Dan punches him in the arm, "You wanna stick around? This place some amazing bruschetta."

The collective inhale the table takes is probably loud enough to hear across the street. Eddie puts his coffee down like he's worried he's going to have to do something that involves having both of his hands free, like restrain Buck.

"Nah, I'm just doing a coffee run, then I've got to get back to the pre-festivities festivities," Dan shrugs, apparantly oblivious, "And maybe buy a shotgun to clean somewhere in view of Samuel."

Tommy laughs, "Give 'em hell, Archer. And don't be a stranger."

"You neither, Kinard," he grins, "I'll take you up on that bruschetta before I head back North."

"You better."

Tommy sits back down, and puts a hand on Buck's thigh. Nothing salacious or suggestive, just the weight of his palm and the heat of his skin. Familiar. The group lapses back into the same kind of easy chatter that they had before. Maddie and Chim talking about something cute Jee had done last week. Hen recounts in detail the call out they got that ended with having to deep bleach the inside of the ambulance. Buck takes a hold of Tommy's wrist, feels his pulse against his fingers, a steady, paitent beat.

-

Tommy's mouth paints lines of heat against Buck's shoulders. He's on his stomach in Tommy's bed - their bed, really, with how often Buck is here these days - propped up on his elbows. There's a book open on the pillow in front of him, something he found on Tommy's bookshelf about the history of the American rail network. It's been open on the same page for the last ten minutes, Buck's eyes somewhere in the middle distance.

There's temptation here, in the form of Tommy's half naked body pressed up alongside his, the hand on his lower back, his mouth. But Buck's mind is going a mile a minute.

"Baby," Tommy murmers, lips pressed to the nape of his neck.

"How do you know him?"

Tommy stills, just a moment where he freezes, before he exhales.

"I don't know if I like you thinking about other men while I'm trying to seduce you."

"Well, he is a very handsome man," Buck mutters, before he can help himself.

Tommy snorts, "Seriously?"

"It's ridiculous," he grumbles, "He's a paramedic, not a model. What's he even-"

Tommy muffles his laughter into Buck's shoulder, his body shaking with it. It should irritate him, it should make him feel belittled and mocked, but the way Tommy curls over Buck's naked back, smudging kisses into his hair and muttering his name softens the blow.

"I'm being an idiot, aren't I?" he says flatly, and it just makes Tommy laugh harder.

"No, Evan, you're being jealous, and possessive, and very sweet," he says, indulgent. Tommy is always indulgent with him, and Buck aches with how much he doesn't deserve it, "I know there's no way for me to say this without it sounding sarcastic, but I really do think that you glaring daggers at my ex like you're thinking about burying him under a carpark is extremely attractive."

Buck huffs, "So, he is your ex."

"Yes, he's my ex," he says, trailing a finger down the dip of Buck's spine, "We dated for nearly a year, the first year I moved to Harbour. He was my first serious relationship after I came out."

Buck doesn't really know what to say to that. Tommy represents a whole lot of firsts to Buck. First kisses, first touches, first fucks. Not first ever, obviously, but a kind of first all their own. And maybe Buck is always going to be a too much, too fast kinda guy, but he can't imagine getting over that, getting over him. Not even after five, six years.

"It ended amiciably. He got the job offer from Portland. Captaincy. Dan's job is important to him, too important to pass it up. I understood that."

"Do you miss him?"

Tommy kisses his shoulder, "All the time. He's been a good friend to me over the years."

"Do you see him very often?"

"Handful of times, since he moved," Tommy smiles, curling his fingers into the hair at the back of Buck's neck, "Came down for Harris' retirement. Couple years ago, we met up while he visiting family. I went up to Portland last year, too."

"Oh?" Buck says, feigning indifference and probably missing it by a mile, "How was it?"

"It was great. Awesome city. Great hiking in the area, and the ceremony was beautiful."

"What ceremony?" Buck asks, jerking up.

"You would have cried," Tommy continues like he didn't even hear him, like he didn't almost just headbutted in Buck's eagerness tosit upright, "I bet you always cry at weddings, but you definitely would have cried at this one. I bawled like a baby."

Buck shoves at Tommy's chest playfully, and he bounces when his back hits the mattress, laughing again.

"What wedding?"

"Dan's wedding," Tommy grins, "to his husband, Jake. Who he loves very very much."

He groans, shoving his head into the pillow, but Tommy doesn'tlet him mope about it for very long. A strong pair of hands roll him flat onto his back, and Tommy wastes absolutely no time in covering his body with his own, pushing between his legs and kissing him halfway to stupid. Which doesn't bode well for Buck, who's pretty sure he was more than halfway there already.

"You're ridiculous," Tommy says fondly, pressing a kiss to Buck's cheek.

"I know," he sighs, "I'm sorry."

Tommy kisses him again, before propping himself upon his elbows, "We're gonna talk about this properly tomorrow, about you being this worried about me... leaving? Or being interested in other people? Whatever it is, okay? We're gonna talk about it, because I don't actually want you to be upset, Evan," he says softly, "but you don't need to apologise for being jealous. It's just an emotion."

"Not the best emotion on me, though," Buck sighs, "It's not even rational."

"Maybe," Tommy shrugs, "but I wasn't lying when I said I like it on you sometimes. I don't regret my relationship with Dan, so what's rational about me liking how much you wish you were the only one who has ever touched me?"

Tommy's got a talent for taking Buck's most ridiculous thoughts, his worst traits, the ugliest sides of him, and rearranging all the pieces so that they actually make sense. He's so steadying, like a hand on his back while he feels like he's constantly walking on a tightrope. All of it is like water off a duck's back to Tommy, even when it feels like Buck's about to drown in it.

"God, please just kiss me," Buck whispers, half because he wants to, he always wants to, and half because it minimises the risk of saying anything else stupid, like 'I hate your gorgeous hero of an ex just because he got to kiss you before I did', or 'I like myself better when I'm with you than I ever had before', or 'I love you', or 'please don't talk about weddings around me because I'm terrified of the images in my head right now and how good you look in a suit'.

"Yeah?" Tommy breathes, his mouth hovering just over Buck's, "You gonna be thinking about him again?"

"Thinking about who?" Buck mutters back, just to be a brat.

Tommy laughs, a gentle, soft little thing that's so, so fond, but he kisses him anyway.

[kinardstits]

(@ AO3. Bucktommy mpreg, cos that's what we're doing now lmao)

There’s no nausea.

No bolting from the kitchen when Melton insists on heating his tuna salad.

No tears, no emotional outbursts, nothing to tip Tommy off until the bell rings and he jumps off his seat, only to have his vision go white and the world tilt into darkness.

He wakes to Lucy taking his blood pressure; to his Captain, of all people, holding his legs up in her lap.

Tommy closes his eyes, swallowing the embarrassment.

.

He thought it was exhaustion.

Tommy knew he shouldn’t–

He caused this.

Ev– Buck had looked at him, all wide smiles and stars in his eyes, and he had gotten up and left, absolutely terrified in the face of the other’s worship.

So, when he began to have trouble sleeping, lost his appetite, began to isolate–

He deserved it. That was punishment.

The results in his shaky hands feel worse than that.

“Mr. Kinard?” Tommy barely reacts besides looking up at the nurse. She smiles back, not unlike a sympathetic wince. “Is there anyone you would like me to call?”

Tommy ought to say no.

He nods instead.

.

The bench is warm from the sun. It could be enough to ward off the chill that seemed to seep into his bones.

It’s not.

Someone comes to a stop beside him. They wait for a beat before they sit, knee knocking into his. “Hey.”

To his horror, Tommy feels tears flood his vision. “Hey.”

Eddie frowns, leaning forward in his seat to try and catch Tommy’s gaze. He looks concerned yet wary, watching him so closely Tommy feels like his skin is being peeled back. “I was surprised when the hospital called me.” He said, eyes flickering between Tommy’s face and the envelope in his hands. “I thought you had changed your emergency contact to…”

Tommy tries not to wince as Eddie trails off. “I nearly did.” He sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. “Had the paperwork filled and everything, but then I thought I wouldn’t want a stranger to tell him I’d died, so.” He shrugs.

“You added me?”

Tommy nods. “Yeah.”

Eddie is silent for a bit before saying, “Well, you’re a fucking asshole.” And Tommy lets a laugh, closely resembling a sob. “Cos I wouldn’t want that either.”

“Sorry. I should probably change it–”

“Don’t you dare,” Eddie glares before his eyes flicker to the envelope again. “Is that what this is? Are you–?”

“Dying?” Tommy asks and Eddie nods, face resolute. He shakes his head, “Not any more than the regular living being.” Before the other can ask, he offers him the envelope.

Eddie hesitates, however. “Are you sure?”

“I, uh.” And Tommy is back to blinking back tears, trying to focus on anything other than whatever his life is at the moment. “I don’t know what to do.” He confesses. “For the first time since I left the military, I’m truly at a loss, Eddie, and I know, I know I hurt Buck and that he certainly got you in the divorce, but. I, uh. I don’t have many friends. I didn’t know who else to talk to.”

Concerned, and more than a little curious, Eddie carefully extracts the envelope from Tommy’s shaky fingers. They’re both silent save for the sound of paper rustling and Tommy feels his heart leap into his throat the moment Eddie seems to stop breathing beside him. “Tommy.”

“My parents got me tested as a child. I believed the paperwork– I never thought to check.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Eddie tries to soothe, reaching out to curl a hand around one of Tommy’s wrists.

“I’m forty-one years old,” Tommy chokes out, tears finally falling onto his jeans. He stares as the droplets soak into the fabric. “I don’t– I never expected this .”

Eddie’s face becomes a complicated mess. “Well, if you’re having unprotected sex, what did you expect? A flatscreen?” He backpedals quickly when Tommy stands, ripping his wrist out of his hand. “I’m sorry– I’m trying to lighten the mood–”

“Very fucking poorly–”

“I know, it sounded better in my head– Whoa.”

Tommy blinks and he’s back on the bench, lightheaded. “Oh, uh. Thanks.”

Eddie’s staring at him, the paramedic in him alert. “What else did the nurses tell you?”

“Uh. To set up an appointment with an Ob-Gyn. To– To eat, yeah. My glucose’s low.”

And Eddie just keeps on staring, eyes narrowing. “And they didn’t give you anything while you were inside?” When Tommy shakes his head, he visibly bites back a curse. “Well, c’mon then. I know a place with the best breakfast burritos in the whole of LA.” Eddie pauses, then leans in. “Don’t tell Abuela.”

.

Tommy begins to feel normal around the last mouthful of his second burrito, sighing almost obscenely at the mix of salsa, cheesy eggs, and sausage invading his palate.

The cilantro alone could drag a moan out of him.

He hates cilantro.

It tastes like soap.

(It tastes like heaven.)

Eddie watches him with thinly veiled amusement, sipping at his latte and pushing his last burrito toward Tommy. “You look like you haven’t seen food in weeks.”

Tommy shrugs, already biting into the offered treat. “Haven’t had much appetite, to be honest. Since.”

They fall silent then, sitting in the bed of Eddie’s truck somewhere along the coast. “Why did you do it?” Eddie eventually caves, asking the question that Tommy’s certain had been burning at the tip of his tongue since he got the call. “Buck’s been miserable, and you, well.” He snorts. “You look like roadkill.”

“Hm, flatterer.”

“And you’re an expert at deflecting. Trust me, takes one to know one.” Eddie takes another sip of his coffee. After so long with a fuzzy caterpillar on his lip, he looks strange bare-faced. “Spill.”

Tommy returns his gaze to his food. “I’m sure Buck has told you everything there is to know.”

“From his point of view, yeah. I want to know yours, too. I’m sure you had a reason.” When Tommy stares at him in wonder, Eddie shrugs self-consciously. “I’m not saying I agree with what you did or why you did it– I’m sure your reasoning’s absolute horse shit. Just that it probably made sense to you.”

Picking at the frayed edges of the paper wrap, Tommy considers his words before, “He asked me to move in.”

“I know.”

“He never even told me he loved me.”

Eddie pauses and lowers his styrofoam cup. “Ever?”

Tommy shakes his head, letting out a humorless chuckle. “He found out about Abby and pulled away. Next thing I know, I’m knocking on his door for date night and he’s talking about how confident I am, about how I’m an inspiration for him. Then, he asks me to move in.” Appetite forgotten, he re-wraps the burrito and sets it aside. Picks up his chamomile tea and makes a show of blowing on it, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. “It hit me then that he was infatuated by the Tommy in his head, not me.” He snorts humorlessly. “I barely came out four years ago, Eddie. I’m not confident, I’m just a coward, but Ev– Buck? He has been cruising ahead, speedrunning through his queer experience and I just. I couldn’t keep up anymore.

Tommy sips at his tea and burns the tip of his tongue. He continues. “I realized I had fallen in love with someone who was attracted to a polished, sanitized version of me. I couldn’t– I wanted to say yes. For a second, he asked me to move in, and Eddie, I was so happy. But then reality came crashing down and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take that leap.”

“So, you broke it off.”

Tommy nodded. “Better to do it now and survive the hurt than to have to restart my life when Buck eventually sees all of me and realizes he made a mistake.” He sniffs and mentally blames it on the sea breeze. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

They fall silent again but then Eddie is snorting, shaking his head. “You’re both absolute imbéciles.”

“I know just enough Spanish to know you’re insulting me.”

“Oh, I am, rest assured.” Eddie throws back the last of his coffee before he sets the cup aside. “Buck was, well. Buck. Steamrolling ahead, as usual, I get that, but you? You self-sabotaged, man.”

“I looked out for myself. Maybe that’s selfish–”

“A little bit, yeah. At the same time, it’s self-preservation. Can we blame a hurt animal for lashing out?”

“Therapy is doing you wonders, huh.”

“Yeah, maybe you should consider it.” Eddie bit back. “Point is– You both need to sit down and talk. Tell him what you told me.”

“He needs to know what’s out there, to know for sure what he wants or if this was just some, some bi-curious experiment –”

“Shut the fuck up.” Eddie cut in, finally mad. “I’ve known Buck for a very long time, now, and I can tell you that this is the most settled and sure of himself he has ever been. You’re scared, and I get that, but don’t talk like he’s not a thirty-three-year-old adult, capable of knowing what he wants.”

That shuts Tommy right up and he looks away again, gripping his cup hard enough that some of the tea spills out onto his fingers. He focuses on the scorch rather than the glare burning into the side of his face. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? It’s done. We’re done.”

“Not if you reach out to him, especially now.”

Tommy flinches so violently he physically recoils. “No, most definitely not now .” He spats, suddenly angry. Is it the implication, the tone of voice? And from Eddie, no less, for so long defined by the surprise of parenthood. “What are you suggesting here, man? That I– that I trap–”

He can’t say it.

If he says it, it becomes true, doesn’t it?

Eddie, however, has no such qualms. “I’m not suggesting anything, Tommy.” He softens before delivering the blow. “You’re pregnant. You just found out. No one’s baby-trapping anyone.”

“But that’s what’ll happen.” Tommy chokes out and he realizes that the feeling that had lodged itself in his throat since his test results came back was anxiety. “Evan has always wanted a family. He’ll want to be there, every step of the way. He’ll feel obligated, Eddie.”

“And that’s bad, why?” Eddie wonders. “Are you afraid he’ll resent you for some reason or are you afraid you won’t be able to keep up the walls you built around your heart?”

“Both.”

“Talk to him.”

“I don’t know if I should. Not yet.” At the other’s frown, Tommy is quick to explain. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell him– I know I have to. It’s only right and I will do it, but.” He pauses, looking away. He eyes the tide. “There might not even be a baby by the end of the week.”

“Don’t say that–”

“It’s a geriatric pregnancy, Eddie. Never mind genetic disorders, miscarriage rates are through the roof. Know what else is through the roof? My blood pressure.”

“I know, I saw your results. That doesn’t mean there isn’t hope.” Eddie argues, then pauses, considering. “I mean. Do you even want this?”

Tommy stares at him, trying to think of an answer before settling on, “I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not saying– I really don’t know. I didn’t even know I was a carrier. It feels like this is a hypothetical situation happening to a hypothetical Tommy, only at the end of forty weeks a whole human will burst out of me, and I will be responsible for them for the rest of my life.”

Eddie’s silent, watching him, before he scoots closer and asks in a soft tone, “Are you scared?”

“I’m terrified.”

And Tommy sobs.

.

By the time his first appointment arrives, Tommy still hasn’t been able to tell Evan.

He keeps staring at their messages, starts to type even, but then– deflates.

What could he even say?

‘Hey, I’m pregnant. Can we talk?’ No, too direct.

‘Hi. We need to talk.’ Too catastrophic, Evan would spiral– not exactly the vibe he wants to go for.

Should he try a meme?

Before Tommy can decide, he’s called by a nurse and soon enough he’s lying on a stretcher, getting cold gel poured on his abs and being prodded in the bladder with the stick from hell.

They’re hard to find because of his muscle mass and so, so tiny but they’re there, wiggling in the small monitor.

He's eight weeks pregnant.

He's due in the summer.

(He hopes with all his heart he gets that far.)

When he can finally pull his pants back up, his eyes are red and swollen, and the fast drumming of a tiny heart keeps echoing in his ears, two printed sonograms in his hands. One, Tommy will keep.

The other, he will give it to Evan.

He schedules his next appointment before he leaves, unaware of Maddie Buckley-Han’s narrow-eyed gaze locked onto him.

.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, elbows deep in soapy water. “Am I?”

Eddie takes the bait, narrowing his eyes. “I did you a favor by taking his phone away. Or would you have been ready to talk to Buck had he called you today?”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

“–You’re a bit of a bitch, anyone ever told you that?”

“Hm. What was it you said the other day? Takes one to know one?”

Eddie tips his beer towards him, trying not to grin. “Touché.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the sound of rinsing dishes and pages being turned. When Eddie closes the small notebook and Tommy wipes his hands on a rag, he asks, “So, what’s the prognosis, doc?”

Eddie mock glares at him, poking the rows of neat results Tommy diligently writes down every day. “All good, so far. Blood pressure seems to fluctuate a bit, but nothing too serious. Glucose levels could use some work, however.”

At the other’s pointed stare, Tommy crumbles. “ You keep bringing me banana bread.”

“I am not physically capable of eating all the loaves Buck thrusts my way–”

“Then why bring them to me if you’re gonna bitch at me for my sugar levels?”

“Cos, I keep expecting you to take them with you to Harbor, not eat them all!”

“Since you began bringing me these, toasted banana bread is literally all I can think about. Nothing else compares. Do not fucking judge me, Diaz–”

“– What in the actual flying fuck .”

Tommy does not think.

One moment he’s arguing with his friend, the next he has a frying pan in hand, ready to face the intruder that had made his way into his house with nothing but cast iron and Muay Thai.

Ev– Buck just stands there, eyes flickering between the pan and Tommy and Eddie. He narrows his eyes, nostrils flaring, and repeats, “What the fuck .”

“How did you get in?” Eddie asks, looking like a deer in headlights.

“Still have a key. Why are you here?”

Eddie seems to take a second to formulate a reply before what escapes him is, “Why can’t I be here?”

“Oh boy,” Tommy murmurs, lowering the pan.

“Why can’t– What – He broke my heart –!”

“And he was my friend first, or did you forget you nearly broke my ankle over his dick –”

“Guys–” Tommy tries to interrupt but quickly shuts his mouth, being glared at by the other two.

“You know I’ve been wanting to reach out,” Buck argues, shaking the phone in his hand for good measure. “You wouldn’t let me! You never even told me you kept in touch!”

“What would you have done if I had?” Eddie barks back. “I couldn’t even say his name the first week because you would pout and scowl your way into a corner!”

“I do not pout,” Evan snaps, bottom lip jutting out in what was clearly a pout.

Nerves fraying, and frankly growing tired of all the shouting in his own goddamn house, Tommy bangs the pan down on the countertop with finality. The others instantly shut up, eyeing him and the potential weapon warily. “Buck,” He tries not to wince at the glare now turned on him. “Why are you here?”

Buck hesitates, looking between him and Eddie before he seemingly decides his best friend can wait to receive a piece of his mind. To Tommy's confusion, he walks further into the kitchen and then rounds the island, stopping and staring at him rather than using his words.

Tommy shifts, uncomfortable and feeling more exposed under Buck's scrutinizing gaze than he ever felt while naked with the other man. Eventually, the other’s entire posture shifts and, to Tommy’s surprise, goes soft . “–You look so tired .”

“Uh. Thanks?” Tommy tries to laugh it off, exchanging a confused look with Eddie.

Then, Buck pulls the rug out from under him. “Are you taking prenatal vitamins?”

Tommy stares, stunned into silence while Eddie lets out a small sigh.

He thinks of deflecting. Of making a joke, throwing in a finger gun or two, but his body betrays him, refusing to let him run.

He's frozen and clammy and Evan's eyes are so sad –

He nearly misses the stool behind him.

There are voices around him, but they're garbled– it feels like there is cotton in his ears, in his brain, he can't think . There's only all-consuming anxiety.

–And pain.

Oh shit, there's pain –

Tommy hisses, pulling back from the knuckles digging into his sternum. “Sorry,” Eddie apologizes, not sorry at all, eyeing him carefully. Tommy slowly becomes aware of his other hand, tightly wrapped around his wrist with a thumb pressing into his pulse point. “You okay?”

“How did you know?” Tommy asks instead, looking over Eddie's shoulder at Buck.

Buck fidgets, looking like he wants to shove Eddie aside and take over. “Maddie's pregnant,” he explains. “You share the same obstetrician.”

Tommy sighs with his whole body, feeling the sting of frustrated tears at the corner of his eyes. Of course, he thinks. Los Angeles and they just had to share the same doctor.

Nothing could ever be easy for Tommy.

“I didn't know you were a carrier.” Buck continues.

Tommy huffs out a weak laugh, watching Eddie as he pulls back and goes fishing for his blood pressure monitor. He couldn't look Evan in the eyes anymore. “Neither did I until– until .”

“When did you find out?”

“Two weeks and four days ago,” Tommy replies almost automatically. Should Buck ask, he could even give him the time.

(One tends to remember every detail when one's life fundamentally changes.)

(Thirty-eight past eight in the morning. Tuesday. It was sunny, as it often is in LA.)

“When did Eddie know?” Buck asks, and ah. He’s angry. He’s pissed, in fact.

Tommy closes his eyes and rubs his face with both hands, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyeballs until he sees stars. “I’m sorry,” He eventually mumbles. “He’s– He’s my emergency contact. I didn’t know who else to call after.”

He feels rather than sees Buck sit on the stool beside his. “You could have called me .”

Tommy looks up then, squinting at the other as his eyes clear up. “Would you have picked up?” He asks, beginning to match Buck’s resentment. “Had I called you two weeks ago, would you have taken it?”

Buck holds his gaze for a beat, then two, before he finally looks away, anger fading partially into resignation. “I don’t know.”

“There’s your answer, then.”

“I still deserved to know.” Tommy scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head, but Buck doesn’t let up. “Or didn’t I? Cos the timeline– It’s mine, right?”

“Wow,” Tommy stands then, trying and failing to hide the hurt the question caused. He vaguely hears Eddie mutter a soft ‘ dios mio ’ to their left. “I– Wow .”

Buck seems to realize his mistake as he quickly jumps to his feet as well, eyes wide. “Not– Not that I’m implying–”

“Well, you just fucking did .”

“I’m sorry,” Buck continues, visibly upset. “I didn’t mean– I’m putting my foot in my mouth.” He pauses, trying to reign in his emotions. He takes a deep breath, “I never thought you cheated. I know you would have never cheated on me, that’s not you, but– Maddie’s been weird. Looking at me, waiting for something. Imagine my surprise when she asks me today why haven’t I told her about you and– and a baby .”

Tommy just shakes his head, blinking back frustrated tears. “Buck–”

“Stop calling me that!” Evan finally snaps. It echoes throughout the small kitchen, resonates in Tommy’s ears, and for a moment he considers just walking away, locking himself inside his bedroom and waiting for everyone else to just leave.

“Buck,” Eddie says, a warning from where he’s standing nearby, monitor in hand.

“I realize I have been far from perfect,” Evan steamrolls ahead, beginning to pace. “How– How I was going too fast, how I failed to see you were beginning to struggle to keep up, how I never realized that the communication we prided ourselves on having was lacking cos you didn’t even know I fucking loved you .”

“Buck,” Eddie tries again.

“I couldn’t have known something you never bothered to tell me,” Tommy snaps back, standing and straightening to his full size. They were the same height, he and Evan, but Tommy was still broader, yet to lose muscle mass from having been ordered to stop strenuous workouts. 

He uses it as armor.

“You could have talked to me, come to me with this!”

“And said what ?! There you were, putting me on a pedestal like some fucking paragon of gayness when you had literally just found out how much of a fucking coward I had been for far too long! I lied to myself for decades, broke Abby’s heart in the process, and barely managed to put my puzzle pieces together when you walked into my life! You were practically the only serious relationship I had ever had, the only one I saw a future with!” Tommy yells, heart in his throat. He desperately wants to stop, cease the torrent of information he had never shared with anyone but himself, but he finds he can’t, far too keyed up to stop now. “But then you basically describe the person you’re infatuated with and fucking newsflash, it ain’t me! I am not confident,” He stabs one finger in the air, “I am not comfortable,” Another finger, “and I most certainly am not worthy of anyone’s bloody admiration! I am a fucking mess, Evan, and at that moment I realized that you didn’t know me, only the idealized version in your head! So, tell me, how could I have said yes to you? How could I have stayed, knowing one day the pink goggles would fall off and you’d realize you made a mistake?! What was I supposed to do, then, a year, five years, ten years down the road? Rebuild my life from the ashes of what would have been my forever?”

“Tommy,” Evan breathes, swallowing back tears.

“I’m sorry I broke your heart,” Tommy apologizes through gritted teeth, paraphrasing the other’s words from earlier. His hands are shaking and there’s sweat running down his back, but he can’t stop, won’t stop until Evan understands – “That I broke both our hearts, but had I taken that leap, you would have killed me. I couldn’t– I couldn’t risk it.”

“ Tommy –”

“I– I can’t–” Tommy pants, realizing too late the adrenaline is choking him, is burning him from the inside out–

He tilts, and all he can think about is that it’s becoming a fucking habit.

.

Tommy wakes up to something cold in his neck, staring up at his kitchen’s ceiling.

There are cobwebs on the wooden beams.

Huh.

He should clean that up, sometime.

“Tom?”

Tommy blinks, still out of it. “Evan?”

Slowly, he realizes that he’s lying on the tile, head cushioned in Eddie’s lap. His legs are being held up by Evan and Tommy’s hit with deja vu so strong his head spins. He tries to move and realizes maybe it isn’t just the deja vu. “W’happened?”

“Blood pressure shot up,” Eddie says, pressing the cold compress he’s holding to Tommy’s temple. “Your body shut down.”

Tommy’s heart jolts and he tries to lift a hand, finding it stuck by the monitor’s sleeve. “Is it–”

“Palpation’s good,” Evan interjects, squeezing his leg. He looks tired now, no longer itching for a fight. “We caught you before you hit the floor.”

“Good. Thanks.” Tommy breathes, relief flooding his veins. The emotional toll tugs at him and he swallows against the knot in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Evan visibly bites the inside of his cheek to keep his face in check. “I’m sorry, too.”

There’s a lull. The fridge hums to his left, Evan sniffles occasionally, the monitor beeps periodically– Tommy feels like a stranger in his own skin.

When the sound of velcro rips through the quiet as Eddie removes the sleeve, he finds the energy to speak again. “I never meant to keep this from you.”

“Tommy,” Eddie warns.

“I know,” Tommy sighs. He’s not planning on blowing up his lid, again. If anything, he feels empty, having released all the pent-up tension within him. “Just. It wasn’t malice. I was waiting.”

Evan frowns, confused. “For what?”

“To make sure there would be anything to tell.”

Evan keeps frowning, confused before he exchanges a look with Eddie, and it clicks. “Tom.”

“It was one of our first conversations.” Tommy continues, “Kids. I know you wanted them, and would want to know about this one, but– I’m old. I never even knew I could grow life. My body keeps betraying me,” He confesses, curling his hands into fists. The cold of the tile is seeping into his bones, mocking him. “I can’t fly anymore. My Captain has me grounded at the station as a glorified clerk, I can’t watch games anymore because my heart tries to beat its way out of me, I can’t work on cars because of the chemicals, and I am stuck walking loops around the neighborhood cos I can’t even run –”

“You’re scared,” Evan interrupts. “I get that, I can understand that, but you seem to be missing a key factor, here.”

“I am?”

“I’m not here just because you’re pregnant with my baby. I’m here because you are pregnant with our baby.”

Tommy pauses, and wonders if he’s still out of it because, “I don’t understand.”

Evan carefully lays his legs on the floor and scoots a little closer. “Tommy– I’m saying that I care .” He pauses, looking like he’s waiting for Tommy to understand. He flaps his hands in agitation when it becomes clear he isn’t getting his point across. “About the both of you. I want to be here, and I wish I had known sooner, not just because I’m worried about whether or not this baby will make it past the first trimester but because I’m worried about you , too. I don’t– I don’t want this if it means you’re at risk, Tommy.”

Tommy’s silent for a bit, staring at the other man.

He takes in the furrow of his brow, the worry overlapping his frustration– His heart on his sleeve. He realizes he’s crying when Evan’s expression shifts to mild panic and he feels Eddie awkwardly dab at his cheeks with the compress he’s still holding. “Don’t.” He eventually gets out.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t give me hope that I get to keep you both.”

Evan stares down at him, incredulous, before his eyes harden and Tommy thinks, Oh. This is how it finally ends.

“Eddie?”

Eddie hums, trying not to show how awkward he feels, stuck between his bickering friends. “Yea?”

“Can you give us a minute?”

“ Gracias a Dios , yes–”

There’s a flurry of movement that has Tommy dizzy again but before he can protest, Eddie runs out of the kitchen and Evan takes his place. Warm, calloused hands cup his face and Tommy has the fleeting intrusive thought that his neck’s about to be snapped. “Tom,” He begins, thumbs rubbing against his cheekbones and wiping away tears and cold sweat. “Back at my apartment, you said your piece. Today, you did it again, but now ? Now, it’s time you listened . Earlier? I said that I loved you. I lied.”

Tommy holds the other’s gaze, despite the urge to run. “You don’t have to twist the knife–”

“Shut up,” Evan interrupts, then keeps going. “I lied. How? Cos it’s not past tense. It’s present tense. I love you. I never stopped. That night– You said a lot of bullshit, okay? About– about me finding myself, about you not being my last? I’m not even going to touch on how biphobic that sounded.”

“I’m sorry–”

“I’m not done. I may not have vast experience when it comes to dating men, but that does not mean that I can’t know what I want. I’m an adult, Tommy. I know what I wanted then, I know what I want now– And I want us . It doesn’t matter that you’re a guy; it matters to me that you’re you , and yeah, I jumped the gun– got ahead of myself and scared you off. Perhaps I had my pink goggles on, even, but you know what? The goggles are off, now.” Evan smiles, but it’s almost a wince, too. “You broke up with me and it hurt . I baked my feelings so much I could have opened a small bakery.”

“Your banana bread is great.” Tommy chokes out.

“Thanks, I got more at– Wait, no , stop interrupting me. I am still not done.” Tommy nods, gesturing at the other to continue. “You know why I baked? So I wouldn’t contact you. Every time I got the urge, I put everything into those cakes, and– I could have done anything . I could have redecorated, painted the walls, gotten into a new hobby– but you had a sweet tooth a mile wide, and even mad at you, I wanted to be close to you, somewhat. Then– I saw you bubbling me, today. I watch you type, type, type, and then just– give up.” Tommy saw the other’s throat bobble as he swallowed. “I wanted to call you. Eddie stole my phone. After our shift, I went to Maddie’s to vent… And then she told me she saw you, and all I could think of was how bad I must have been as a boyfriend if you were hiding this from me or thought you couldn’t tell me about it.”

“You weren’t. I just–”

“–Were scared.” Evan finishes for him and Tommy nods. “I get that now. I get why . And I’m sorry, for ever making you feel inadequate. Maybe… Maybe we’re still a little stuck. On that day, our official first date.”

“With the bad coffee?”

“Yeah,” Evan huffs out a laugh. “I said we didn’t know much about each other.”

“Practically everything.” Tommy smiled back.

“I still want to change that. I know that I want something, and I know now that I definitely want it to be with you.”

“And I’m definitely still interested if you’ll have me.” Tommy sniffled. He couldn’t believe his luck, yet… “I– have a condition, however. Two, in fact.”

“Anything.”

“First, I need you to tell me that you’re not just saying all this because I’ve got a bun in the oven.”

Evan sobers up then, expression softening. “I’m not. I meant it– I love you , and that comes before any proverbial baby. I’m here for you, first and foremost.”

“I just don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“I don’t, but now I have to ask something of you, too.” Evan leans in, brushing the pads of his fingers across his jawline. “You need to start trusting me. I know – I know it’s hard and it’ll take time but– Believe me when I tell you I care, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need, just– try . Or talk to me when it gets hard, okay?”

Tommy nods. It’s nerve-wracking and he’ll have to work at it every day, but he’ll try. “Okay.”

“Good. Now, what’s the second condition? Maybe Eddie should have been here, be a witness–”

“Second condition is– please , slow down.” Evan blinks and then laughs, and Tommy feels the world flood with color he didn’t even notice was missing. He had missed this; the other’s laugh, the other’s warmth – “Too much?”

“No, but– Tommy . We’re having a baby. We’ve reached Mach speed.”

Tommy reaches then, taking hold of one of the other’s hands. Slowly, but purposely, he rests them over his stomach and feels Evan hold his breath. It’s reminiscent of how Evan had held his hand at the café all those months ago, and he blows a breath, hoping in his heart of hearts that this time– the third time is the charm. “Humor me?”

Evan blinks and then he’s leaning in, pressing their lips together.

Any other day, Tommy would be making a joke about upside-down kisses and all the pop culture Evan is still missing, but today? Today, he keeps his mouth shut and lets himself float on the feeling of wanting and being wanted back , flaws and all.

Evan pulls back, tears on his lashes. “Yeah,” He breathes, grinning. “I can do that.”

.

They make it past the first trimester.

The baby and their relationship.

.

Twenty-eight weeks later, Mabel Buckley-Kinard breathes her first.

(give me kudos and/or opinions)

[hotshotsxyz]

love dresses up in many ways

(buddie)(8x07 spec)(881 words) how about a little not-evil spec? as a treat title from yet another bastille song

“Buck,” Eddie says flatly as soon as he opens the door.

Buck pastes on his most charming smile. “Eddie,” he replies.

“I’m one person.” He steps back to let Buck in anyway.

“One person that’s choosing joy!” Buck reminds him sunnily, kicking the door shut behind him.  

Eddie grins and leans against the wall. “I am,” he acknowledges. “Pretty sure I don’t need to overdose on baked goods to achieve that.”

“Sure you do!” Buck exclaims. “Besides, this one’s focaccia. There’s like, a vegetable in it.”

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes. “Oh, well, if there’s a vegetable…”

“See, I knew you’d come around.” Buck makes his way into the kitchen to drop off the focaccia (and the pound cake and the brownies, but shh, who’s counting?).

“Grab a couple beers?” Eddie calls after him.

He opens the fridge and finds a six pack of a fruited wheat beer he’s never seen before and grins. It’s not that he’s actually all that excited to try You’re My Boy Blueberry Wheat Ale, but man, it’s hard to put into words just how much he likes seeing Eddie try news things just for the fun of them. There’re a few familiar sours in there, too, but fuck it. Buck grabs two of the blue-labeled bottles and heads back into the living room.

“I reserve the right to pour this out and get a new one if it’s weird,” Buck announces, popping the top off Eddie’s and handing it to him.

“Mm,” Eddie replies. He takes a tentative sip, then his face blooms into one of those easy smiles Buck’s seeing more and more of these days. “S’not weird,” he says. “It’s good.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks.

Eddie shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to try it for yourself.”

“Guess so,” Buck murmurs before taking a sip of his own.

To his genuine surprise, it is good. Better than he expected. Like maybe-his-new-favorite-beer better.

“Okay, yeah,” Buck says, dropping down onto the couch next to Eddie. “Not weird.”

Eddie grins at him, so bright that Buck kind of wants to look away, but also maybe never stop looking.

“So what inspired today’s round of baking?” Eddie asks, knocking his knee against Buck’s.

Unbidden, an image of Eddie’s bare thigh pops into Buck’s head. He brushes it away because—

Anyway, he brushes it away.

“I dunno, Eds,” Buck says with a sigh. “I just— I think I’m a little stuck. In—in my own head, I mean. About, you know, all of it.” He waves his beer around to emphasize his point and narrowly avoids spilling it. “It’s not even about him, you know? It’s what he represents.”

“Which is…” Eddie prompts.

Buck settles back into the couch and wraps his non-beer-holding arm around himself. “I don’t know. Finding whatever it is I’m missing, I guess.”

Eddie hums and takes a long sip of his beer. “What makes you think you’re missing something?” he asks finally.

Buck frowns, nonplussed. “I mean,” he says, gesturing vaguely.

“What, a couple of not-forever relationships and there’s something wrong with you?” Eddie asks and—

“Five,” Buck says dully. “Five not-forever relationships.” Yeah, he’s pretty sure there’s something wrong with him.

“Buck,” Eddie says softly. From anyone else, it would feel chastising. From Eddie, it’s just… comfortable.

“Well what do you think it is?” Buck asks.

“I think,” Eddie says slowly, “that I’m probably the least helpful person you could possibly ask for relationship advice.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “M’not asking you about relationships, I’m asking you about me.”

“Ah, well, in that case,” Eddie says teasingly.

Despite himself, Buck smiles. “Just—what is it that makes me so—” Easy to leave? Hard to love? He can’t quite bring himself to voice either thought.

Eddie frowns like he heard them anyway. “Whatever it is, I like it,” he says with a shrug.

Buck blinks. “You… like that I keep getting dumped?”

“No, obviously not, Buck,” Eddie says, turning to shoot him an exasperated look. “I like you,” he continues. “Whatever it is your exes were too stupid to love about you, I do.”

All the air seems to leave the room. It’s—one time, in high school, Buck was slammed into the ground so hard during a football game that for a few seconds, he was literally incapable of breathing. This feels a little—a lot—like that.

“Eddie,” he croaks.

He shrugs again, like he didn’t just say the most insane, incredible, intense thing Buck’s ever heard.

“I like you the way you are,” Eddie reiterates. “You don’t need to make yourself less to be loved. The right person will get that.”

Buck swallows. “You think?” he manages.

“I know,” Eddie says emphatically.

Buck opens his mouth and closes it again. It’s just—it isn’t something he hasn’t heard before. Hell, Eddie’s said it more that once before. He just feels—

It’s like there’s something in his chest that’s dying to break loose, some incredible revelation that’s just around the corner. But for all he pokes and prods at it, it won’t come any sooner. There’s something, though.

Maybe he does just need to let the universe do it’s thing. In the meantime, he’s sitting next to Eddie on the only couch he’s ever really felt completely comfortable on. It’s enough.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (You Are Here)

Complete Thing on A03

Sure enough, Jason Carver had brought a priest. 

The idiot himself stood next to the guy, smugly grinning like a hunter posing with his prized buck, a small crowd already gathering. 

Opposing them was Michael Wheeler, hands planted on Hellfire’s table and back up like a pissed off cat’s, mouth moving faster than Eddie thought possible.

He couldn’t hear what Wheeler was saying. 

Frankly did not want to know what Wheeler was saying, and could only do his damndest to intervene before Mike tanked the situation entirely. 

Gareth and Jeff flanked him, both tense as hell. Neither had backed down though, standing tall and holding ground even as Jason pulled more and more people into his little spectacle. 

Lucas and Grant on the other hand, were standing off to the side.

They weren’t cowering exactly, but both were definitely wincing as Gareth opened his mouth to add his own two cents. 

Given the scowl on the priest, it was probably something nasty, 

‘Fuck.’ Eddie thought, teeth clenched, as Jason drew out his arms, making an even bigger production for his little audience. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ 

The worst thing of all? 

Dustin managed to reach the group before anyone else did. 

Wheeler and Emerson might have low charisma, but Dustin had a particular combination of snark and a know-it-all attitude that really pissed off authority figures. 

(And Eddie would know, given he was the reigning champion of pissing off authority figures.) 

He did, however, slide in right in time to hear the priest respond. 

“I don’t care for your tone, young man. Jason here has some concerns over your club and I have to agree, what I see is quite,” The guy paused, jowls jiggling as he looked over their table, clearly eyeing Hellfire’s logo. “alarming.” 

 At least wasn’t an actual sermon.

Not yet, anyway. 

Eddie came up right inbetween Mike and Dustin, intending to make himself out to be the new target for all to aim at.  

There was an art to making yourself the sole owner of everything evil in this world, and Eddie had learned it all, trial by fire style.  

“Carver is full of--” Mike snarled, and thankfully was cut off—not by Eddie, or the hand he’d just clamped onto Mike’s shoulder—but by Harrington. 

Who sauntered right up as if he was joining everyone for dinner, and not walking into a circus act.

“Hello Father.” Harrington said, voice warm and welcoming.  “Would you like some of our cookies? We have a sample platter.” 

“Oh--Steve!” The priest blinked, actually blinked, that he was startled to see Hawkins’ golden boy appear next to him. “I’m sorry but no. I’m ah, here for other reasons.”

He paused so long it was nearly comedic before tentatively asking; “ Are you with this table?”

Like the guy couldn’t see the same Hellfire logo plastered across Steve’s ridiculous jock chest. 

Eddie opened his mouth to give a resounding no, Hellfire shirt or not--when Mike of all people put an elbow into his side. 

As if Eddie was the one who needed to be silenced.  

“I am.” Steve put an arm down on Dustin’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way that looked like fond encouragement (but what Eddie was pretty sure was actually a warning in the same way the hand on Mike’s shoulder was.) “I came to help out my friends and fundraise.”

Then he beamed, face lighting up with the full Harrington charm, giga watt smile and all. 

Now the priest just looked awkward. 

“You’ve apparently been fundraising for what I have been told is a…Satanist Club?” 

It was hilariously delicate, how the priest said it. Like now that a respectable member of Hawkins was here, he had to be more careful about what words he used. 

Eddie would have interrupted then.  Retake the reins and do what he did best in terms of making everyone forget about everything but him--except Carver was rounding on Harrington, and well.

He was always a fan of the rich eating each other. 

“You cannot seriously be with these--these,” Jason’s eyes darted to between him and the priest, before physically reigning himself in. “hooligans, Harrington!” 

“I’m sorry.” Harrington said, and whatever Jason had been expecting to get hit with, it wasn’t “good ol’ boy” southern charm. 

He blinked, taking on the air of a kicked puppy who couldn’t understand why someone would be so mean as he glanced around the crowd.  “I think I'm a little lost here.” 

Jason clearly wasn’t prepared for that either. 

“What?” 

“This table is for a storytelling and math game.” Steve spoke slowly, in the same way one explained things to a toddler. “You have to roll dice and add the numbers up to do anything."

“It’s not a game, Steve.” Jason spat back. “It’s an evil trick made to tempt the susceptible minds of children to the dark arts!” 

Personally, Eddie was amazed Carver even knew the word susceptible let alone be able to properly use it in a sentence. 

(He tried to open his mouth to say so, and once again got elbowed, this time by Gareth. 

The look he gave his younger friend could have melted steel beams.)

“That’s what this is about?” Harrington slid his arm off Dustin's shoulders, leaning back to look at the priest and the people around them in a show of blatant disbelief. “You think the nerd club is related to satanism?” 

It was Eddie's own tactic--arguing that D&D was “using academic skills” and “making math fun!" not that Hellfire had ever been successful using it.

Of course, they weren’t Hawkins golden boy either. 

Jason sputtered. 

“It has monsters and--demons in it! It makes children do spells and sign over their souls!” He flung a hand out, for the first time acknowledging Eddie by pointing at his shirt. “Just look at that! It’s awful!”  

"Hey." Eddie said, hand going over his very well drawn dragon.

“I once had to stop an argument about how much weight a wooden bridge could hold.” Steve countered, hands moving to his hips. “I only got them to stop by agreeing to take the kids to a library so they could look it up.” 

He squinted, in Carver's direction, deadpanning; "I take it you think the library is evil now too?"

“The name of the club is called Hellfire!” Jason shrieked, sounding more like an angry teakettle than anything dangerous. 

“Look I get that it sounds scary,” Steve said, the tiniest hint of pity entering his voice, “but they’re trying to make math problems and English essays sound cool. It’s the same reason Father John here calls our annual haunted house Hell House, isn’t it? So people go in it to begin with?” 

Harrington turned to look expectantly at the priest, and Eddie had to admit it was an excellent way to both pander to the guy and sound like Jason was making a big deal out of nothing. 

Perhaps, he’d stay quiet after all. 

(Even if it went against Eddie’s entire being to do so.)

“Well, yes, but--” Father John had clearly picked up on the fact he was losing this particular argument, but plowed forward regardless. “Those activities are supervised by the church…” 

“This is evil Harrington, and you should know better to promote it.” Carver tacked on, like this was a two bit comedy sketch. 

“When I played it we just saved some poor town from a bad guy who set it on fire.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

Then he leaned in, converting his voice into a stage whisper that somehow projected it, giving the impression that everyone around them was listening in on a secret. 

“The doctor said it was a really good way for Dustin and Erica to process the mall fire. He’s a specialist--my mother managed to convince him to fly down to help all the kids who got hurt.” 

Eddie was 100% sure that was total bullshit, but the mere mention of Harrington's mother had seemed to have an effect on the people around them.

 Like Steve had invoked the name of an old but beloved God, not always benevolent but definitely memorable. 

“She’s always been a champion of helping when you can.” Steve spoke to the priest, like they were having a conversation between just the two of them. “Encouraging people to volunteer and helping fundraise.”

“She has been." Father John said, in the kind of instant way one does when they don’t want to offend a very large donor.  "Tell your mom I look forward to her coming back from her--ah, trip.”

 With an awkward glance to the table, he added; “...I suppose I don’t see how math comes into play?” 

“Oh it’s right from the start. Hey Jeff, come here, show Father John how you have to do a bunch of calculations and stuff to make a character.” 

“Ah--right.” Jeff sprung to life, moving around the table to Steve.

“We uh, we start with this character sheet…” 

“Eddie Munson runs the club.” Jason interrupted, before Steve could get Jeff to going.

“He’s right there! Does he look like this whole thing is just an innocent board game?” 

This was a last ditch effort, and it was clear by the chattering that had started circling amongst their audience that everyone knew it. 

Unfortunately, it was a good one.

This was the downside to making yourself a target. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy--particularly in the eyes of the PTA. 

“Munson?” Harrington dismissed with a scoff. “He’s harmless.” 

Which was news to most of their audience given the amount of attention Eddie suddenly had on him, but it was fine. 

He was used to the disapproving stares and glares, and gave his best award winning smile in response. 

Jason looked at Harrington like he’d lost his mind. 

“He has skulls on his fingers for fucks sake!” 

“Jason.” Steve admonished, in a perfect mimic of an upset southern mother. “Language.” 

Carver's jaw dropped, face purpling in rage.

Steve ignored him, turning back to the Priest. “I don’t know what's gotten into him but I’m sorry Jason’s wasted your time, Father.” 

“Munson is a drug dealer!” And ah, here came the Hail Mary move, Carver's one and only trump card.

“We all know he’s a drug dealer, and he’s using this--this game, to give drugs to kids!”

“Really?” Steve turned. “Lucas, what happens if I ever catch you smoking weed?” 

Lucas answered instantly. “You’re going to make us run laps at five in the morning.” 

“For a month.” Dustin added, with an exaggerated shudder. 

It would have been too much--except his disgusted face sold it. 

“Eddie’s just loud and wants to be a rockstar.” Harrington said, like this he was harmless.

No one on Steve's side of things had ever thought of Eddie as harmless.

 “I’ve babysat these kids for years and Eddie was a huge help in making sure no one in high school messed with them.” He continued, like they were some sort of team or friends even.

(Like Eddie hadn't been at Harrington's throat all day, pissy and defensive.)

“We have a real bullying problem right now. Funny enough,” Steve’s nailed Jason with a look, “I keep hearing that it’s coming from the basketball team.” 

“What are you implying?” Jason asked darkly. 

“Just that it’s funny how nobody got caught fighting when I was team captain.” Steve returned. 

God the man was such a bitch. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him a little. 

Okay, more than a little.

“I get you have some kind of beef with Munson, but let’s not drag a bunch of people into it. Especially not Father John.” Harrington was playing up to the mothers around him now, dismissing Carver entirely as he did so. “He’s a busy guy.”

“Very.” Said Father nodded solemnly. “I do not appreciate being pulled into a high school squabble.” 

Jason’s mouth swam through shapes, words stuttering out of it. “This isn’t, thats not--”

“We can talk about this after church on Sunday.” Father John interrupted, the finishing blow to Carver's little show.

“You came all this way, at least have a cookie on us.” Steve said with an appeasing tone, reaching an arm back behind him.

Quick on the uptake, a cookie appeared in his hands. 

He offered it out to the priest, who took it happily.

"Okay, who wants cake!?” He called, in a clear and obvious dismissal of Jason. 

Who stood there, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. 

His eyes slid to Eddie's, fists clenched tightly at his side, hatred pouring off him so strongly one could almost taste it.

Eddie winked at him.

(Unknown to him at the time, Jason had also looked at Steve--and Steve would wink too.)

xXx

Steve Harrington, who Eddie had been an absolute ass all day too, had looked Jason Carver, a Priest and half of Hawkins in the eye and announced that he, Eddie Munson, was a good person at heart.

It made Eddie want to vomit a little when he thought about it too hard.

“I know this is horrible timing,” Robin said, sidling up as the crowd finally dispersed, “but I really, really need to talk to you.” 

Eddie turned, head full of far too many thoughts and ready to tell her such, when he caught sight of Buckley's face. 

Was reminded, by the sheer nervous, ‘horse about to bolt’ vibe, that he owed it to Robin as a fellow queer not to be a dick about her accidental outing.

Even if all he wanted was to preen in the wake of Carver’s defeat. 

‘See Mothers of Hawkins? Your own golden boy just gave me his stamp of approval!’ 

A mental image that immediately changed to Steve Harrington’s name stamped on his ass and dammit he had to get ahold of his thoughts before he fell down rabbit holes like this--!

“Back there, at the stairs,” Robin started, voice dropping low, and Eddie didn’t miss the way her eyes kept seeking out Steve, like he was some kind of safety net--which he probably was. “What um--what did you hear?” 

It took a lot of guts to come talk to him, knowing what he'd overheard--particularly given they'd just fended off the church.

He'd never exactly underestimated Robin Buckley, but then, he'd never expected this level of badassery from her either.

“Eddie?” Robin prodded again, chewing hard on her bottom lip.

“Sorry, distracted.” Eddie waved a hand behind himself. “Not everyday the King decides to defend your honor to a priest.” 

With a little bow, he offered his elbow out to her, a clear signal to take it and let him escort them away from unwanted ears.

In a show of bravery, Robin took his elbow and let him lead, even as she frowned up at him, looking like she was about to say something.

Likely it was in defense of Harrington, but Eddie had been interrupted enough for one day. 

“You and His Highness over there really should be more aware of your surroundings." He started, voice low. "Lucky for you, you’re among friends. You and Dorothy both.” 

He reached a foot out, tapping Robin’s own. 

Right on top of a doodled pair of tits. 

Robin let go of his elbow and glanced down, before flinging her head right back up, panicked.

"I--"

“If you’d like I can pretend I never heard a thing.” Eddie interrupted, dropping his voice into the gentler tone he reserved for delicate conversations.

People were always surprised by the lengths he went to make sure someone was comfortable--but then, people also forgot how often Eddie heard things he shouldn’t. 

People didn't take drugs just for fun, after all.

“Or I can offer a friend of a friend discount on my wares,” He put a finger to his lips, miming smoking with one hand while he opened his vest with the other to flash the little pink triangle pin that sat inside, announcing his own sexualities status.

“and we can, say, discuss the differences between radical and social feminism while admiring the fine forms of Susan Sarandon and Peter Hinwood?”

The smile he gets is two parts relief, one part genuine delight and Eddie grinned right back at her, flicking his vest closed.

“I did not take you for a Peter Hinwood type.” Robin said it hesitantly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Thought you’d find Tim Curry’s…acting skills, more to your taste.”

“In the case of Rocky Horror? I am Tim Curry.” He announced, loud and proud (well for this kind of conversation at least.) 

He was rewarded by the tension finally melting out of Robin’s shoulders. 

(This, Eddie reflected, is what he should have been doing this entire time, instead of getting tied up in knots over Harrington and turning into some kind of non-conformist tyrant.) 

“Do you actually know the differences between social and radical feminism?” Robin challenged, braver now, and Eddie knew then and there he’d been successful in assuring her her secret was safe.

That she was safe, with him.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” Eddie said, giving a playful nudge to her shoulder. 

Baths in the laugh he gets for it, and for the first time today feels like he’s finally on firmer ground.

They chatted for a moment longer, making a loop on the very outskirts of the gym, voices hushed when it came to things that small town ears shouldn’t overhear--but of course, Robin couldn’t just leave things at that.

“Hey Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything for you, my favorite feminist.” 

For the first time since this conversation started, Robin managed to sound firm. 

“Stop referring to Steve as a King.” 

She rushed ahead, anticipating being cut off, and thus Eddie is hit with a wave of words, none of which he’d ever thought he’d hear in relation to thee Steven Harrington. 

“He’s working really hard to get away from it, the whole King thing and how he used to be. I don’t know what all he did to like--you guys,” She flapped her hand in the general direction of Hellfire, “and I know he wasn’t an innocent bystander, but I kinda realized over the summer that I blamed him for a lot of things that were in my own head, and that he wasn’t--he was never as bad as I thought he was and he's still trying to make it up to me anyway.”

Robin trailed off, seeming to try and piece out what she wanted to say next without giving away the whole farm. “It’s not some act, Eddie. Steve’s really trying to change.” 

Which yeah.

Eddie could see that, now. 

Maybe not before but…

“Okay.” He said, after a long, long moment. “No more King Steve. Got it.”

The smile he got for that also felt like a victory, even if it was wrenched out of him.

xXx

Two hours and a dispersed crowd later, Eddie found himself once again stuck in his own head. 

The facts were thus:

Steve Harrington was a good dude. 

He used his good dude-ness to save Hellfire from a literal priest, right smack in front of God and Principal Hairy Ass both

All of Hellfire actually liked him 

According to Robin Buckley, Steve was entirely fine with “all us triangles” quote/unquote 

And;

Eddie was jealous.

He was self aware enough to admit it, alongside the fact that Jason Carver aside, maybe Eddie had been the villain today instead of Steve. 

Which meant he not only owed Harrington an apology, but he owed it to both of them to work out his own stupid shit before it blew up in his face and cost him all his friends.

(He’d have called this move “pulling a Harrington” before today but now that feels mean, which Eddie supposes signals he’s grown as a person or some shit.) 

So now he sits on Steve’s beemer, knowing the move will likely antagonize the ex-jock but equally knowing he’s planning on jumping off the car the second the guy comes near, and that the move itself will get Harrington to listen to him the second he’s done supervising whatever Hellfire’s youngest is doing.

(Eating leftover cookies like the older members are as they finish packing up, Eddie assumes.) 

Ducking out like he did had allowed him some much needed time to think things though. Figure out what he was going to say--without an audience present.

He’d apologize publicly if he had to. But being vulnerable is hard, and given the way his friends had been acting, Steve isn’t the only person he owes an apology to. 

For now, he’ll begin here, without an audience. 

Eddie doesn’t get to plan for long--only gets to rehearse a few lines of his little spiel when a pointed cough jerks him back to reality. 

There stands Steve Harrington, a fat wad of cash in one hand and a box in the other.

Like a man sent to the gallows, Eddie leapt off the beemer, squaring his shoulders. 

He could do this.

 Apologize-- and mean it. 

Not that Steve gave him the chance to. 

“The guys told me to give this to you.” He said, holding out the cash. Then he took a breath, like he was preparing to go to war, and added; 

“I know you weren’t happy with me being here, and you probably don’t want this, but Dustin said you really liked cinnamon brownies so I made you some.” 

The box was now held out alongside the cash, proof that Steve had tried to start this whole thing off on the right foot. 

Eddie stared at it, then at Steve. 

Felt the guilt chew on his gut just that much harder.

“I have been shitty to you all day. Why are you giving me this?” 

Steve shrugged. 

“To be fair I didn’t exactly make it easy on you either. You said jump and I said ‘watch this’.” Steve laughed, a small, almost self depicting sound. “Dustin’s been on my ass all day about it.” 

Of course he had. 

“Mine too.” Eddie admitted. “It's his tone, I swear."

“Yes!” 

Carefully, Eddie reached out, accepted the box and the cash. 

“Thanks by the way. For the stuff you said about me earlier.” 

Steve grimaced, cheeks tinting a (lickable) red. “Yeah sorry, I--”

“No not--not that stuff.’ Eddie said, mentally hauling his thoughts back in line, fiddling with the cash. “The stuff about being a good person. No one’s uh. Said that. About me.”

Not except for Wayne, but Harrington wouldn’t know nor care about Eddie’s uncle. 

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” 

He’d argue that, except something was off. 

It took Eddie a moment to place it--that the wad Steve handed over was way too big for the little bake sale they’d just attended. 

He tucked the box under his arm, quickly counting the stack with a smoothness only drug dealers and bank tellers could manage.

“It’s all there, I promise.” Steve told him simply, but without judgment. He sounded like he expected this and that didn’t sit right with Eddie either. 

Not that he could do anything about it because he’d just counted up didn’t make any sense. 

Not trusting himself, Eddie stacked it back together, before counting it all again. He was faster this time, trying to figure out among all the ones, fives and tens how the hell they had managed to sell that many cookies. 

Particularly considering the most expensive thing was one of the cakes and he’d watched Steve sell it for fifteen dollars. 

So why were there three twenties sitting in the stack? 

“Either you up charged the absolute shit out of someone’s mom, in which case I congratulate you, you sneaky devil,” Eddie said slowly, “Or you put extra cash in here.” 

Steve blushed properly this time. 

Eddie zeroed in on his face, watching as Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, trying to pull his charming mask into place.

He didn't quite manage it.

Hadn’t even been wearing it before now, Eddie realized suddenly.

This entire conversation Steve had a realness to him that Eddie had never really seen. 

Had maybe not wanted to see, from someone like Harrington. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Steve protested, like a kid who’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “That’s what we charged.” 

“You are a terrible liar.” Eddie accused, hand trembling. “We can’t take this, man. This is a almost two hundred dollars.” 

Way more than what they’d need for Gen Con. It was enough to get them two fuckin’ hotel rooms! 

“If It helps any, I didn’t do it for you.” Steve’s blush slid into something more genuine, as he nodded his head to where Hellfire was spilling out of the gym doors, laughing and shoving one another. 

“They deserve to have a good trip.” He added, eyes fond as he watched Dustin and Mike squabble over how to fold Hellfire's banner.

It made his whole face soften, the harsh features of his jaw turning into something that was so adorable Eddie wanted to bite through it. 

“Do you want to come?” Someone said, and it took both Steve’s startled look and a second long pause for Eddie to realize that someone was him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid-! 

“To the convention?” Steve asked, looking doubtful. 

Pity that Eddie was already nodding, like his brain and his body were at a total disconnect.

Maybe aliens had finally taken him over. Or a demon. 

(Demonic possession could frankly explain a lot about today, Carver’s weird little power play aside.)

“Dude you don’t even like me.” Steve said. “Why would you want me to come along?” 

“I dunno Harrington. All of Hellfire seemed to like you, and not just my freshman.” Eddie countered easily, gliding right over the fact that he himself did like Steve.

Way more than he should, and that right there was half of Eddie’s problem. 

“They have pretty good taste in things.” He waived a hand, as if this wasn’t a complete 180 from how he’d acted all day. “I could understand if you didn’t want to slum it with us nerds though.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve been slumming it all day with you nerds, if you haven’t noticed.” 

“Yeah? What’s your verdict on us?” 

“Not as bad as you could be.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and laughed. “High praise from the King!”

He felt bad immediately after, and made himself promise to be more mindful about Robin’s ask--but  thankfully Harrington didn’t take it hard. 

(Habits, Eddie knew, were hard to change.

Took a lot of careful attention to change. 

He had a long road ahead of him, and he hoped this little olive branch put him a few miles down it.) 

Steve awarded him a small smile. “I haven’t been the King for a long while, man. But if you guys have an opening, I think I wouldn’t mind being a knight or whatever.” 

“Ste-eeeve Harrington, defender of the realm.” Eddie nodded once, decisively. “I can see it.”

He tucked away the cash, and thus missed how Steve looked weirdly contemplative at that. 

Raised his head and stuck out a hand. 

Tentatively, Steve took it. 

“Welcome to the club, Harrington. We meet on Fridays. Bring snacks.” 

“Cookies okay?”

“Going by Gareth’s judgment, they’re more than okay.”

Eddie smiled and Steve smiled back, and God how he hated how fucking cute Harrington’s face was. 

Particularly since he now got to think of the guy as “Steve” without feeling weird about it. 

As in his possible, potential, friend Steve.

What a fucking trip that was. 

“Oh, and Steve?” He called, the thought hitting him as Steve turned to welcome the group making their way to the beemer.

Steve had let his hand fall, turning to open the front door of the Beemer with a cocked eyebrow.

Eddie flicked a finger out, lightly tapping the Hellfire logo. “Tell Lucas I’ll get him another shirt. That one’s all yours, big boy.” 

If there was a pink hue to Harrington’s cheeks, he was blaming sunburn. 

(Two months, six days, and one meddlesome asshole named Henderson later, and Eddie would find out that Steve had in fact, been blushing.

He’d be furious at Dustin’s involvement, if it hadn’t directly led to Eddie finding out Steve’s blush did in fact go down his chest.

And his happy trail.

And his--

Well.

Men do not kiss and tell. 

Not to fucking freshmen, anyway.) 

THERE IS A GEN CON, "THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED BECAUSE DUSTIN IS A MEDDLESOME SHIT" BONUS BUT it's on A03 cause it was long enough to be its own post and I wasn't gonna add it to this one. You can read it here LINK

[cjlouwho]

Prompt - Drunk buck or Tommy !

“Bu- you didn't have ta cut me off!

Make it lie it never happen n that we were nothin'!

N' I don't even need your love!

You treat me like a strange an it feels so rough!”

Buck and Eddie watched as Tommy drunkenly sang, or slurred, up on stage. Buck had gotten the call about thirty minutes ago. The bartender had known Tommy for a few years now, him being a regular on karaoke nights, and had gotten to know Buck since they'd started dating.

“I'm confused,” Eddie said, nearly having to yell over the music, “did you two break up? I feel like you would have told me that.”

Buck shook his head. “No. No, we're fine.”

“Then what's with the Gotye?”

“-ow an then I think of all the time you screwed me over.

But had me believin' it was always somethin' I'd done.

I don wanna live that waaay! Readin' into every word you saaay!”

Each sentence was beginning to get more and more drawn out as he glared into the crowd.

Buck sighed. “I think he's singing to his dad.”

“Like that?” Eddie asked with a grimace.

“Yeah. He- They talked yesterday and I don't think it went well.”

“Oh, really? What gives you that idea?”

After giving Eddie a glare, they looked back to Tommy, who was now stumbling over the microphone cord as he headed back into the chorus.

“Should we?” Eddie nodded in his direction. “You know, before he breaks his neck.”

They walked up to the stage, and as soon as Tommy laid eyes on them he gasped, smiling widely. “Evan!” he exclaimed into the mic. “Oh, Evan you came for me to sing?”

Blushing, Buck stepped up onto the stage and took hold of Tommy's arm. “I'm here to take you home, Babe,” he whispered, trying to ignore the crowd of people staring at them.

“Ev, Ev, Ev, I need to sing for the people. People!” He stared out at the crowd, “This is my Evan. He is my boyfriend and he is smokin'!”

Eddie stepped on the stage next, coming to Tommy's other side. Tommy gasped again, even though he'd already spotted him before. “Eddie!” he wrapped his other arm around him, the microphone ringing as it knocked against Eddie's back. “And this is Eddie!” Tommy yelled. “Oops.” He pulled his hand away from Buck to grab the mic and try again. “This on my left is Eddie. He does not have a wife.”

“Okay, that's-”

“Where's my single ladieeees?!” He asked with a smile, then his eyes widened. “I should do Beyoncé next!”

“No!” Buck exclaimed. “No, we're gonna go home, Tommy.”

“Aw!” he whined with a frown, sticking out his tongue. “Bummertown USA.”

although annoyed, he didn't fight against Eddie taking the mic out of his hand. He didn't try to pull away from either of them as they held onto him and helped him off the stage. And only once did he try to bow to the crowd as they led him out of the bar.

“Alright, into the Jeep you go,” Buck said, helping Tommy into the backseat. As he leaned over to buckle Tommy's seatbelt, Tommy stopped him. “Evan, your eyes are the bluest eyes of anyone to ever know them.”

Buck paused, blinking a few times as he tried to figure out exactly what that meant. “I'm gonna take that as a compliment.”

“Goody goody gumdrop.” He reached out and booped Buck's nose as he finished buckling up.

“Eddie, you sit in the back with him while I drive.”

“What?! Why don't you sit in the back with him?”

“Because you'll get to go home after this and I get to stay with it all night.”

*****

“Eddie?” Tommy started, head lolled back on the headrest as he looked over at him.

“Yeah, Tommy?”

“Why're you here?”

Buck glanced back at them in the rearview. “We had that poker game tonight, remember?”

“Oh, right, right, right. I hate poker. B-o-r-r-r-i-n-j.”

“Excellent spelling, Man,” Eddie said, giving him a thumbs up.

Tommy smiled, then turned his head to look out the window. He squeezed his eyes shut when the streetlights that kept passing by made his head spin. “Eddie, you're such a good dad,” he mumbled out.

Eddie hummed. “I dunno about that, Bud.”

“No, no, no, you are.” He whipped his head back around to Eddie and reached out, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You are a good dad. Isn't he, Evan?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Okay, alright. Thanks, Tommy.”

Tommy groaned. “You don't believe me.”

“I believe you, Tommy. Just rest, okay?”

“No, I- I can't rest, Eddie. Because you think you're a bad dad and you're not a bad dad and that makes me sad. So sad I rhymed.”

“Tommy-”

“No.” Tommy reached out, pressing a finger against Eddie's lips to shush him.

Eddie moved the finger away, but stayed quiet, letting Tommy talk.

“You're a good dad,” he repeated. “You- You made a mistake. Psssh, so what? You... You're trying. That means something. That-” he hiccuped. “That matters, Eddie.”

“He makes a point,” Buck agreed.

“I do! I do make a point, Evan. Thank you, Baby.”

“Yup.”

“See, my dad,” Tommy continued, sitting up straighter. “My dad does not try. Never, ever tried. An- And I told him, I said. I said, Dad, I am happy. I am in love with love of my life. I have good friends. Eddie, Howie, Maddie, Hen, Karen. God, I love Karen. Where is Karen tonight?”

“She's with her family,” Buck replied.

“Oh, right. Yeah, family. Issat what I was talkin' about? Yes, yeah. Eddie, listen to me.” He waved his hand, trying to get Eddie to move closer. “Come here, listen. Listen, listen.”

“I'm right here, Tommy, I hear ya.”

“I- I ran away from home at seventeen. Joined the army. You know this.”

“Mhm.”

“Dad had to sign to okay me into army. He signed. I never- I didn't hear from him again. Not until I came back home. Then- Then he was only mad that I didn't stay and I-” he cut himself off as his eyes started to burn. “Anyway, I talked to him yesterday and I said, I said I am happy, and he- he laughed at me. Laughed right in my ear. Said he didn't care tah hear it cause I... because of all of it. It's not enough, never enough. It's just- Eddie, do you love Christopher?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie answered softly.

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

"And you- you keep talking to him. You keep," another hiccup, "you keep trying, okay? It will- he will know you love him. You'll keep trying?"

"Mhm." Eddie cleared his throat. "Yes, I'll keep trying. I'll never stop trying."

“Yeah, I know you won't. That's good. That- That matters. Mine, he. He's never said I love you. Not once. And he didn't keep tryin'.” He reached his hand out and wrapped it around one of Eddie's fingers, giving it a squeeze. “You're a good, good dad, Eddie. Believe it.”

"I- I believe you, Tommy. Thank you," he replied, and this time, he meant it.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

The Shining, 1980

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: I finished!!! I actually did the kinktober challenge I set out to do and idk I might CRY cause when do I ever finish anything 🥹🥹 thanks for reading all my super shitty work homies like it means a lot that you stick with me. Back to work on my inbox! 🧡

Day 16: Thigh Job

You and Buck had been dating for a few weeks now, and nothing had really gone much past kissing and him feeling you up. He wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was him? Maybe he didn't shower enough. Or maybe you weren’t into him like that, which was okay! But he just wished you would tell him. 

He sets his bag down and turns to Eddie “ I don't know dude... Maybe she wants to break up with me”

“You guys haven’t exactly been together all that long.. Maybe she’s hesitant? Have you tried just talking about it?”

“How lame am I gonna sound!” Buck scoffs, resting his head against his locker “Hey Y/N Why haven't you let me rail you through my mattress?”

Eddie tosses his head back letting out a sharp laugh before slamming his locker shut. 

“Man up and talk to her about it. Lord knows communication is definitely the best avenue.” 

“I’m.. not sure I should be taking advice from you when it comes to that” 

Bobby finds Buck locked in the supply closet 20 minutes later. 

Buck drops his bag at the door as he walks in, he sighs and looks down at your number on his phone, he’d just invite you over for a quick dinner, maybe some wine and he’d talk to you.

Communication is key. 

He stops in his tracks as he looks over at his counter, there’s a row of Chinese take-out boxes and you’re setting out silverware. 

“Oh- h-hi” you blush, “I let myself in, I hope you don’t mind” 

“Of course I don’t” He smiles widely as he comes over and scoops you up in his arms while hugging you tightly. He sets you back down with a sweet kiss on your forehead and pets your head 

“What are you doing here cutie?” He hums happily as you pull him down to your height and peck his lips 

“I wanted to talk to you”

Even if he wanted the same thing, his heart still drops to his feet, his smile is uneasy and clearly stressed.

“O-oh? Uh- okay… what um- what about?” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, trying to seem confident, but you can see right through it. You put your hands up fast, shaking your head. 

“It’s nothing serious!! Well, it’s- it’s serious but nothing bad!! I just- I wanted to explain myself!”

He groans loudly as his arms fall and he melts into your arms, you giggle as he buries his face in your neck, letting you hold most of his body weight to your chest. 

“Why the fuck would you scare me like that!!!” He whines and you coo at him while running your nails through his hair 

“Awwww baby I’m sorry” you laugh “It’s just about sex” 

He perks up and you swat at his chest as he immediately pulls away and kisses your face 

“Well, well, don’t let me interrupt you. Please, go on” He wriggles his eyebrows, his face is so close to yours that it makes you smile when you kiss his nose

“I know you’ve been kind of… antsy,” You say as he settles down against you. He’s practically bent in half to be less tall than you are, looking so sweet and innocent as he eagerly listens 

“Have I?” 

You roll your eyes playfully and his eyes flit down to your lips, watching as you bite down on them. 

“Yes, you have… and I realize, that I haven’t exactly been… reciprocating” 

“Really? Hadn’t noticed” He mumbles, his eyes still on your lips and you groan, pushing his face away

“Buck! I’m being serious!” You pout and it’s his turn to coo as he sets you on the counter. He puts his arms on either side of you, trapping you, and smiles softly 

“Okay, okay I’m sorry… you’re right. Now, what’s going on?” 

“Your dick is literally too big and I’m afraid it’s going to hurt if we don’t take it slow but I’m going to burst if you don’t throw me down on the floor and take me and I don’t know what to do” 

His jaw drops as you blurt it all out in one fast sentence. He blinks a couple of times, his mouth gaping and he turns away for a second before looking back at you.

“I’m sorry… what?” He gestures wildly and you slap your hands over your face. 

“I’m… smaller than average okay! It- it takes a little work and… I just didn’t know if that was something you could deal with.” 

“What’s… a little work?” And you know he’s asking seriously by the sincere look on his face, he reaches out and cups your cheek with his hand and you lean into it. You spend the next hour explaining everything to him over dinner. He sits crisscross on the couch as he listens to you intently over his container of chow mein.

“I wish you’d have said something sooner baby… I could have been blowing your back out by now” 

You snort and set your empty carton down on the coffee table

“You’re such an idiot” 

“Mhm, you say that now… but this idiots got ideas baby, trust me. There’s more than one way to have sex” 

It’s not until four days later Buck corners you in the apartment, you’re doing the dishes when he puts his hands on either side of the sink, trapping you between his arms. 

“Hello Buck,” You say as you keep rinsing your dish, and his hands move to take it from you, rinsing it for you. 

“Hey baby” He purrs in your ear, kissing your neck, you watch him wash a couple more dishes before craning your neck to look at him and pecking his cheek. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Mmm.. maybe, depends. You busy?” 

“Apparently not,” You gesture and he smirks, taking the dish towel and drying your hands before his. You look at the clock on the stove “You’re kinda early”

“I begged Reynolds to come in early for me, it’s only a couple of hours. I couldn’t wait any longer” 

“Any longer for what?” 

“I bought you something” He grins eagerly and finally lets you go. He puts his hands on your hips when you turn around, kissing you softly and pulling you over to the island. There’s a pretty pink box in the middle with a white bow around it. He pulls away and nods his head over at it, his eyebrows wriggling.

“Ya gonna open it? You should open it!” 

You giggle and reach for it, pulling it to the edge of the counter “Alright, alright, I’m opening it”

You pull the bow and remove the cover, there are hearts all over the tissue paper, clearly hand drawn and you smile at them before pulling the paper back. There’s a brand new lingerie set in it, it’s black and strappy with little hearts where the nipples are

“Buck” You gawk and he grins, pushing the baby doll aside so you can see the crotchless panties underneath and your breath hitches.

“I want you to go take a shower, pretty yourself up a bit, and put this on” His hands slide up your arms, grinning as he feels the goosebumps “Take all the time you need, I’m gonna run to the store for a minute okay?”

“O-okay” you mumble as you stare at it and he takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to face him.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my entire damn life and you were just doing the dishes” He pecks your nose and you giggle a little

“My plan works even if you don’t want to do all that, I just know you kinda prefer to doll up sometimes you know? I just wanted to give you a chance. But whatever you decide is sexy to me no matter what” 

You smile as he cups your cheek, leaning into his reassurances “You better hurry up” you tell him “Don’t keep me waiting” 

He pecks your lips and grabs his keys from the counter “I promise I’ll be so quick baby” He turns to run out the door but comes back, kissing you again and biting his lip “Okay, okay, I’m going”

You watch him leave, standing at the counter for a minute waiting to see if he comes back, when he doesn’t you grab the box and go running up the stairs to shower. 

Buck takes his time at the store because even if he’s itching to get home he wants to give you time to clean up. He stares at the rows of candy in front of him, grabbing a few of your favorites, he didn’t really need to be at the store but it was a good way to kill time and an even better way to get you more presents. He’s reaching for those pretzels you like when he gets a text, a picture from you. His jaw drops as he stares at his phone, You’re sat in front of his full-length mirror on your legs, your hand between your legs as you give him the cutest little smile.

He’s gonna have to ask Athena to fix that speeding ticket for him. 

He throws the front door open and launches the bags onto the counter 

“Daddy’s home baby!” He yells and he can hear you burst out laughing from upstairs. He takes the steps three at a time and collapses at the top of the stairs before dragging himself over to the bed. You’re sat in the middle of it, perfectly poised, buffing your nails 

“You good?” You look over the edge. 

“I’m- Jesus- fuck I’m-“ he pants, giving you a thumbs up and you giggle.

“Need a minute?” 

“Think I pulled a hammy” He wheezes and you roll over on the bed laughing at him, your hair hangs around you like a curtain as you look down at him, your eyes are so sweet and wide as he holds a hand out to your cheek. 

“Remember me as I was, wild, and free” 

You climb down from the bed and settle on top of him, flipping your hair to the side as you place your hands on his chest. 

“Are you okay?” 

His heart skips a beat as he looks up at you, his hands finding their home on your hips. Your skin is so soft and smooth, he even admires the soft shimmer from the body oil you used. 

“Yeah I’m good.. just bein’ dramatic” he chuckles quietly, his hands sliding down your thighs as he sits up. 

“You look… so damn good” He mumbles, before kissing you, his tongue tangled with yours immediately, things went as they usually do, his touches are so featherlight and teasing and he grins. 

“Okay baby,” He takes you from his lap and stands up, pulling you with him and kissing you again before putting your hands on his belt. 

“I thought we could try something. I’m willing to take everything as slow as you need to, I promise. I just thought you might go for this” 

“Go for what?” You undo his belt slowly and he watches you, his hands ghosting up and down your arms slowly 

“You’ll see” he teases, as you let his pants drop, freeing his hard length. It bobs heavily between his legs, the tip already glistening with precum.

“You’re ridiculously sexy” You mumble as you look up at him and he cups your face, kissing you deeply while moaning. 

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing…”

He grabs your hips, positioning you in front of him 

“Now do me a favor. Keep those pretty little thighs together, mhm, just like that” He watches the way you squeeze your thighs together, shuddering at the friction.

With that, he puts the tip of his cock against your slick folds, rubbing it up and down your slit. You groan together at the sensation, his hips rocking gently as he coats himself in your arousal. 

You look down with wide eyes, watching him sliding in between your legs

“O-oh my” You mumble and he smirks his free hand slides up your body, pushing your bra up to expose your breasts fully. He palms the soft flesh, tweaking and pinching your nipples roughly as he continues to thrust harder between your thighs.

Buck groans as you squeeze your thighs tighter around his cock, the pressure and friction driving him wild. He can feel your slick arousal coating his shaft with each thrust, making the glide deliciously smooth.

"That's it, baby, just like that," he pants, his hips snapping faster now. 

"Gonna make you cum so hard on my dick. Wanna feel you shake and moan for me."

He reaches between your bodies, spreading your lips so your clit drags against his cock more. You gasp, your body jolting against his as you grip his arms tighter. 

“B-Buck please, just- just the tip“ you gasp, looking up at him, your eyes wide with lust “I need you”

Buck slows his thrusts, looking down at you with a heavy mix of lust and concern. He cups your face gently, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

"Just the tip, baby? You sure? I don't want to hurt you," he murmurs, searching your eyes.

You nod eagerly and he carefully positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock just barely slipping inside. He holds himself there, letting you adjust to the size.

"That's it, baby girl. Nice and slow. Tell me if it's too much, okay? I've got you."

He starts to rock his hips, pushing in a little deeper with each movement. His other hand slides down to keep rubbing your clit, helping to ease the stretch and keep you focused on the pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight. Feels like you're squeezing me so good already. Gonna make me cum if you keep this up."

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. His tongue laps at your mouth, stroking along sensually as he continues to thrust shallowly, he’s never practiced so much control in his life and he’s not even bothered by it. 

Your head falls against his shoulder, your soft breaths fanning across his chest. 

“J-just like that” You whimper, your body trembling against this “Oh god just like that” 

He holds you close, his arms wrapped securely around your trembling curves. He continues to thrust shallowly, the head of his cock just barely dipping inside your tight heat with each movement.

“You're doing so good, taking me so well. Such a perfect little angel," he murmurs encouragingly, his lips brushing against her ear.

His hand on your clit never stops its maddening circles, keeping you right on the edge. He picks up the pace slightly, still keeping his thrusts shallow but adding a little more force behind them. His other hand slides down to grip your ass, kneading gently and pulling you tighter against him.

“Cum for me, baby, wanna hear those pretty little moans as you fall apart on my cock."

Your thighs shake as you cum, your chest heaving as you grip his arms, your nails digging into them as your orgasm crashes over you in delightfully intense waves. 

Buck groans deeply as he feels your orgasm rip through you, your walls clamping down around him like a vice. He buries his face in your neck, biting down on the sensitive skin as he fights the urge to thrust deeper.

He growls into your neck, his cock pulsing as he spills his load into you, you moan as you feel it spilling down your thighs. You reach down quickly, pumping his cock and sliding it just a little deeper inside you, letting him coat your walls. He whimpers into your neck while you squeeze his cock, milking him for all he’s worth. 

He pulls away shakily before collapsing onto the bed and bringing you with him. He wraps his arms around you, snuggling into you like the little cuddle bug he is and you giggle breathlessly, kissing the top of his hair. 

“You know you started something now” He mumbles against your skin as you drag your nails through his hair, scratching his scalp. 

“Oh?” You say and he nods, craning his neck up to look at you. 

“Oh definitely, just the tip? I can work with that. Doesn’t take much to make you my little cream pie” 

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you whack his arm. 

“Buck!”

“And don’t you worry baby we’ll get you used to my size I promise, maybe we can buy some toys or something! Take things nice and easy, find some good ways to tease you open” 

“You really want to take your time with me huh?”

“More than anything” He smiles, cuddling into you closer and nuzzling his head against you so you’ll keep petting him and humming happily when you do

“Hey Buck?” you whisper a little while later, tugging at his hair to get his attention. 

“Hmm?” He mutters, half asleep.

“You um…. You think you might be up for a round two?” 

Suddenly he’s awake again, you shriek as he yanks your body on top of his and shoves your thighs upward, you awkwardly scramble to slap your hands on the windows in front of you and he puts his arms over your thighs and holds your hips. You feel his breath fanning across your pretty pussy and you moan softly, putting your head against the windows. 

“I mean yeah if you wanted to sure”

[alchemistc]

You never let me in, Buck sends, two of three sheets fully winded, and when he kicks his leg over the coffee table he nearly knocks over three empties.

They do this thing, right? Buck gets upset and before the tears can fall, because he's cried too many fucking times already, he makes himself angry. Picks at something that has come up every time he's done a post-mortem on the last six months.

And then he sends that shit to Tommy. Because - because who the fuck else is he supposed to talk to about it? The guy who'd sucked him off in the hallway of a nightclub two weeks ago? The woman who'd spent an hour quietly helping Buck understand that yeah, he was very much bi, and yeah, some people did not like that shit? Maddie, or Chim, or Hen or Eddie, who still might interact with him on the job? Bobby? Fuck, not Bobby.

Bobby who'd blinked at Buck and offered platitudes and apologized to Buck like it was somehow his fault Tommy was good people but he was the kind of good people who just walked out on something that could have been something.

I should have pushed more. I know I should have. I just thought since I was trying to share everything, you were too.

My mistake.

Three months and Buck isn't over it. He's far enough into the mourning process that he thinks this one is always gonna sting, and not for the reasons Tommy thinks.

That's not fair. I'm sorry.

The texts get delivered. Tommy reads them. Buck's had read receipts on since the first time Tommy went quiet on a call and Buck freaked out a little - but back then they were still working towards something. Back then, sometimes Tommy would pull out his phone and open the thread just to give Buck sign of life.

He was always doing that. Heading shit off at the pass.

Buck had just never realized he'd be able to do it to hurt him, just as well as take care of him.

Every four weeks like clockwork Buck gets a response. He has no fucking idea why it's four weeks, what the third Thursday of the month has to do with Tommy feeling gracious enough to give Buck some clarity. He'd never known enough about Tommy, is the thing he's coming around to. He'd done everything he could to bring Tommy in, make him a part, and Tommy had let him. Tommy had distracted him with quippy words and a clever tongue and with being so fucking willing to be integrated into Buck's life that Buck just - hadn't noticed.

No one will say it, but he Bucked It Up in the worst kind of way.

He's waited until Third Thursday to send these texts. He actually hasn't sent anything at all, until this moment, and he wonders if Tommy noticed. If he cared. Tommy picks and chooses from Buck's random thoughts, parses out details like he's reading from a manual and Buck is off topic two thirds of the time. Buck doesn't actually know why he's been answering, all this time. He wonders if, in the last four weeks of silence, he thought he was finally done with Buck.

He wonders if it had hurt.

Buck sets his phone down to stand, skating across to the kitchen in his socks for the pizza rolls in the oven.

His diet is shit. His body feels like crap. He's one more drunken nights sleep on the couch away from emptying the rack in his fridge down the drain and giving sobriety a try. The last person he'd slept with had hinted that they'd prefer not to use condoms and Buck had almost let them.

Buck has worth. He knows he does. It's just sometimes when he remembers that every person he's ever loved has either walked out on him or let him walk away when he needed them, he struggles to find that worth.

His life has meaning, and all that jazz.

Buck sort of wonders if Tommy hasn't finally blocked his number, as he tosses a too-hot pizza roll in his mouth and huffs on the lava cheese burning his tongue. After the last message Buck had sent, three weeks ago, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.

(This is basically just an unhinged grief journal with an unreliable second narrator. Do you know what it's like to realize you're still in love with someone who never let you know them?)

There's been no response to that. Fair. Buck hadn't even actually said the words. No, he'd jumped right into the sharing a life part, cart before the horse as always when emotions were high.

The pizza rolls get tipped onto a plate and are immediately swimming in the heavy pour of ranch he'd prepared after he set the oven to preheat.

It cools them off a lot quicker than popping a hole in each seam and waiting.

It's been eight years since Buck has really even thought about that little trick.

When he opens his phone there's no response. No receipt. Just stark words waiting to be acknowledged.

I gave you my family, Tommy. You didn't even introduce me to your team at Harbor.

It's startling to realize after the fact. He doubts Tommy had meant it that way, but he'd basically spent six months being love bombed only to have the rug ripped right out from under his feet.

And yet. Months later and he still wants to know. Know why. Know how he could have done it, with tears in his eyes, with full awareness that it was already gonna hurt. Know Tommy - anything he'd part with, really, that wasn't something every random acquaintance also knew.

Cool, he'd been jealous of what Buck and the 118 had. (Buck had tried to give him that. Or at least he thought he had.)

Great, he didn't talk to his dad and Gerrard was a shitty captain. (Buck had spent an hour once explaining the first time he and his dad had spoken about Daniel without screaming at each other. Tommy had listened to the rants about Gerrard and offered physical comfort and a 'sounds like him' and Buck had just been so relieved to have an ally amongst the 'life is just like this sometimes' crowd that he'd never examined that.)

He was a Kinsey six who'd been engaged to the first woman Buck had ever really loved and they'd never dug deeper than that.

And Buck had apparently interpreted some of the shit he'd said that night wrong, but he still doesn't think it's fucking fair that Tommy can't trust him to know his own fucking mind well enough to know he hates sleeping around and he'd found the sort of connection he was looking for. He'd found it. Even with the lack of reciprocation. Even with the quiet behind Tommy's eyes that he'd never let Buck in on. Even with the -

His phone buzzes on the coffee table.

Can we talk?

Buck kinda hates those words in that order now. They'd been the start of something twice, but they'd always been leading to an end, if Tommy had his way.

Once every four weeks, apparently, Buck sends back and takes a vicious bite.

His phone chimes with an incoming call.

Buck stares at the name he hasn't had the stomach to remove the little heart from. Lets it ring through to voicemail and then shoves three more pizza rolls into his mouth and doesn't care if they burn off his taste buds.

His phone rings again.

"What?"

"I'm outside your building. Didn't want to make any assumptions that I'd be welcome without asking first."

Buck can feel his ribs cracking under the lurch of angry laughter. "What the hell?"

"Well the parking around here is miserable again, so I figure that's a sign."

"Are you driving right now?"

"Hands off. I'm on Bluetooth. So. Should I circle the building a fifth time or call it now and go home?"

Buck gets stuck on fifth time.

There's no way he hadn't been driving since at least before Buck sent that first text.

Buck sighs. There's absolutely no reason to be hopeful about that. For all he knows, Tommy has just decided dousing any residual flames is just another thing he has to do in person.

"My Jeep's in the shop. I'll buzz you into the garage."

Tommy's silent for a long, long moment. The quip comes anyway. "I keep telling you that thing is a money pit."

"I'm not really feeling the flirty banter, right now, Tommy, so maybe just let me know when you're at the gate."

He does. He hangs up the phone twenty seconds later with a plain "See you soon."

Buck doesn't have time to change. Fix his hair. Hide the sheet pan with half a dozen pizza rolls still laying on it, because he'd cooked way too many again.

(He could absolutely do one of these things but if Tommy's gonna throw this at him, he's getting every little slovenly habit Bucks's picked up since he walked out that door.)

The knock comes while Buck's shoving the last two rolls on his plate into his mouth.

He's still chewing with his mouth open to blow out the steam when he swings the door open, and Buck feels the first inklings of pleasure ripple through him at the sight of Tommy.

He looks like shit.

"You look like shit."

Tommy's brow ticks up. He stares pointedly at the glob of not-cheese that's going to absolutely ruin this sweatshirt.

"That tends to happen when you spend an hour in an armchair two sizes too small picking at trauma you've been hiding from your therapist for six years."

Buck opens the door wider. Holy crap. Tommy might legitimately be more fucked up than Buck.

Tommy's smile is strained. "Can I come in?"

Buck holds his gaze. His eyes are a little red. He's got a red spot along the side of his neck, like he's been rubbing at it. Buck only recognizes it as a comforting motion because he's replayed him doing it half a million times right before he ended things.

"Depends. Is this the last time you respond to my mean, rude, asshole texts for an hour after therapy rubs you raw?" Third Thursday Therapy, is apparently what does it. Buck is - god. He just wants -

"God, I hope not," Tommy says, and Buck takes a step to the side to let Tommy in.

[rcmclachlan]

okay, so if you’re not writing the aquarium scene in the 118/217 scheming fix-it (god i love this) can you at least share what mishap and or shenanigan gets them banned from the aquarium?? (since you mentioned it in the tags i assume you picked one!)

The aquarium is Christopher's idea, because getting Buck and Tommy back together is the one thing he and Eddie can talk about without it devolving into shouting or week-long silences that make Eddie want to put his fist through his living room wall.

So if plotting to interfere in the open bear trap that is his idiot friends' breakup gets him an hour of uninterrupted screen time with Chris three times a week? He'll meddle in a way that would make even his abuela say, "cariño, that's a little much." He'll change his legal middle name to el metiche.

"Buck used to take me to see the otters when I was younger; they're his favorite. But the exhibit has been closed for a year because they've been redoing it," Chris says, then texts him a link to the aquarium website. "The big reopening is next week. If someone asked Buck to take Jee-Yun, he wouldn't be suspicious."

"Chris, you're a genius," Eddie says, a little awed. His entire body aches to reach through the laptop screen and across state lines to pull his kid into a hug, but all he can do is sit on his hands and hope his face shows all the love he feels.

A small, but genuine grin unfurls on Chris's face. "That's not news, dad."

Eddie decides to take the aquarium idea to what Chimney keeps calling the weekly 118-217 Shadow Summit to see if the rest of the group thinks it holds water—no pun intended—and is extremely offended when Dana gives him a slow blink and says, "That's actually not bad. Who came up with it?"

"Is it that hard to believe it was my idea?"

"Very."

Dana presses the rim of her wine glass to the sly, crimson curve of her mouth. With her victory rolls, winged eyeliner, and tattoos, she looks like the winner of a car show pinup contest. She also looks like an evil queen out of an old school Disney movie. At least five people in their general vicinity look like they'd thank her if she force-fed them a poisoned apple or turned into a giant dragon.

Eddie reaches into the bowl of popcorn by his elbow and throws a handful of it at her. She just takes a sip of her wine and serenely lets the kernels bounce off her.

"Knock it off before I put you both in a time out." Lucy drains the dregs of her beer and says to Chimney, "Having Buckley take your kid is the perfect excuse—she's, what, two? Three?"

"Five," Chim says with the heartache of a man whose baby is almost old enough to rent a car. "As long as we don't tell my wife that Jee's playing the part of the cutest MacGuffin ever in this little plot, we should be good. But how do we get Tommy there?"

"Short of planting a bomb in the penguin tank, I can't think of a reason Mr. Nature Boy himself would ever voluntarily go." Hen roots around in the popcorn bowl for the kernels with the most butter. "Actually, he might be thrilled if we did that. I don't think he likes birds very much."

Dana lifts a brow. "I smell a story."

"Does it smell like KFC?" Chim pops a pretzel in his mouth and chews loudly, grinning. "Once we've adjourned the cabal for the evening, remind me to tell you about Maurice."

Eddie doesn't know Nico very well—he can't get a read on the guy to save his life—but the smug smirk he's sporting looks entirely out of place. Nico takes the last mozzarella stick off the platter they'd ordered to share and puts it between his teeth like a cigar. He looks like the world's lamest oil baron.

Eddie looks at Dana in askance. Wordlessly, she plucks a piece of popcorn out of her hair and throws it at him. It nails him right between the eyes.

"Let me handle Kinard," Nico says. "I'll get him there, no problem."

To his credit, Nico does get Tommy to the aquarium the day of the sea otter exhibit grand reopening. And thanks to Chimney planting Chris's idea in Buck's head at the start of their next shift, Buck does take Jee-Yun.

Unfortunately, their paths never cross, because while the penguin habitat doesn't explode, the sea jelly gallery does, completely flooding the first floor. When the aquarium is forced to evacuate everyone, Buck and Jee-Yun end up at the Chili's down the street, while Tommy ends up riding in an ambulance with an old woman who gets stung by a box jellyfish.

"I don't understand how this happened!" Lucy shouts, keeping her fingers on the ankle pulse of a man in the middle of an allergic reaction to a lilliputian jelly sting as Hen and Chim pump him full of epinephrine and then start administering compressions.

Eddie would help, but he's carrying three kids—two in his arms, one on his back—through shin-deep water to safety while attempting to dodge all the bluebottles floating on the surface. Dana glides past him to get the next group of kids waiting to be rescued, not a hair out of place. She looks like a fucking mermaid. He's gonna trip her the next time they pass each other.

Annoyed, Lucy casts around and then asks, "Has anyone seen Nico?"

Just in time for the man himself to sedately walk through the pandemonium, two bewildered penguins tucked under his arms like purses. He smiles brightly. "Hey, did Kinard pass through here, by any chance? Phase two of my plan is ready to go."

Eddie stares at him. "What was phase one?"

He never does find out what exactly phase one entailed, but it's enough to get them permanently banned from the aquarium for life.

"If you ask me, the punishment so does not fit the crime," Nico says, digging an elbow into Eddie's side as he jostles for room in the back of Athena's squad car.

Eddie says nothing. He's too busy mentally composing the short-answer portion of his application for the El Paso Fire Department, although, in the end, it doesn't matter. He completely forgets everything he plans on writing when Athena slides in, glances in the rearview mirror, and shouts, "Those better not be penguins in my back seat, Edmundo Diaz!"

He and Chris spend two hours talking about it during their next call, so Eddie calls it a win.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | October 14th-20th 2024

You probably don't know this about me, but my first real fandom was One Direction. Twelve years ago, I discovered these boys and I fell in love with them, their friendship, their music. They've had such a big impact on my life. I've been in shock and so sad learning about Liam's passing.

I don't know why I'm saying all that, I don't really know what to say. I guess I just wanted to share in case anyone else was also affected.

Complete

I'm not okay, but it's all gonna be alright by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Pre-Buddie, S8 | 1K | General): “I’m going to Texas.” Eddie says quietly. Buck doesn’t move. Doesn’t react in any way. He keeps breathing, keeps holding Eddie’s arm against his chest, fingers moving in the tiniest of brushes along his skin, and keeps watching this ridiculous show. “Okay.”

there’s no way that we could rewind by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)/ @lover-of-mine (S3E3: Searchers | 1,5K | General): The one at the VA hospital after the tsunami

the sincerest form of flattery by canadadry (S8E3: Final Approach, Brad POV | 1,7K | Not Rated): “Your boy—Buck,” Brad says. “First marriage?” - in which Brad Torrence only almost passes out, and observes the aftermath.

a rush inside i can't control by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (S8E5: Masks Spec, Coming Out | 2K | General): “Eddie,” Buck says. “That man was flirting with you.” Eddie blinks at him. “No, he—was he?” “There was a vibe,” Buck says. “I could feel it across the room.” “Definitely a bit of a vibe,” Bobby chimes in from the captain’s seat. “Oh,” Eddie says, and— Buck narrows his eyes. “You’re blushing.”

Put My Name At The Top Of Your List by icewhisper (Post-S7, Established Buddie | 2,6K | Teen): He’ll be fine, he tells himself again. It’s just dinner with his parents. How bad could it be? He may as well have said the q-word. (Wherein Buck finally hits a breaking point with his parents and Eddie helps him pick up the pieces.)

A-maze-ing by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S7, Getting Together | 2,7K | Teen): “Would you want t-to go with me? To the haunted pumpkin patch?” Buck asked, sounding way too nervous for asking Eddie to go to a pumpkin patch. Unless - Unless Buck wasn’t just asking him to go to a pumpkin patch. Unless Buck was asking Eddie on a date to the pumpkin patch. Eddie felt something warm and fizzy bubbling in his chest. He kind of felt like he might bubble up and float away, so filled with joy at the prospect of Buck asking him out. Of Buck wanting him that way. 

he wants ya, she wants ya. by dylaesthetics (S8, Eddie Coming Out, Pre-Buddie | 3K | Teen): After Eddie comes out via a Facebook post, he rekindles his friendship with Lena.

Advice For the Young At Heart by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Eddie Coming Out, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck and Bobby overhear big news about Eddie. Buck spirals. Bobby talks him through it.

i’ll do your laundry, covered in dirt by justhockey (Future fic, Getting Together | 3K | General): Or, Eddie learns that Buck dug through the mud for him.

Secret Weapon by Inell/ @inell (PWP, Established Buddie | 3,5K | Explicit): Buck makes Eddie a few promises that his stubborn partner is refusing to let him keep. He has to use his secret weapon to get Eddie to surrender.

There’s No Place Like Home-Spun by icewhisper (Buck has ADHD | 4K | General): Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.)

Failing Up by Inell/ @inell (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Buck accidentally kisses Eddie, feels like he made The Big Mistake, and finally talks to Eddie about it. Feelings get revealed, and Buck realizes maybe it wasn’t a mistake, after all.

what started in beautiful rooms by weewooforever (Infidelity, FWB, Canon Divergent, Post S7 | 4K | Mature): buck and eddie have been hooking up since the day they met and eddie is too afraid to make their relationship official. until one day he can’t take it anymore.

songs and poems and promises by lesbianrobin/ @lesbianrobin (S8, PWP, Getting Together | 5K |  Explicit): “I think you should break up with Tommy.” Buck tries not to grin like a maniac. “Yeah?” “Yeah. And I think you should come home with me.” “In that order?” Eddie gives him a look highly reminiscent of Bobby. “Sorry,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs. “I was kidding. I think.” When the party is over, Buck goes back to the loft and calls his boyfriend. Then, in the morning, he goes home.

Baby just say yes by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E4 No Place Like Home, Buck/Tommy Break-Up, Pre-Buddie | 5K | Teen): Tommy is a terrible boyfriend, and now Eddie keeps ending up on dates that Buck had planned for Tommy. Totally platonic, right?

grindrgate (it’s fine, it’s cool) by canadadry (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Not Rated): Buck realizes three things, in this order: First: That was a notification alert from Grindr. Second: That notification alert came from Eddie’s phone. Third: Eddie has Grindr? Apparently?

invisible string (tying you to me) by bookinit/ @bookinit02 (Getting Together, Fluff | 5K | Teen): Buck sighs again, even louder and longer and noisier this time. “Eddie’s shoes,” he clarifies, through gritted teeth. “I—I usually tie them. For him.” More silence, this time somehow more deafening. Buck inspects a stray line of grout until he can’t bear it anymore, then looks up for judgment. Chim’s eyebrows are sky-high. “You’ve been tying Eddie’s shoes?” he repeats, strangled and high-pitched. “Regularly?”

touching me, touching you by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (PWP, S6E7: Cursed | 7K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie wake up one morning able to feel each other's touch. They make the most of it.

"Hotshots." A Taylor Kelly Production. by dylaesthetics (Canon Divergent, Actor Eddie | 8K | Teen): Eddie Diaz, an ex-telenovela actor playing an on-screen firefighter in a hit procedural series, happens to stumble across a real-life firefighter, Evan Buckley, and is immediately smitten.

please, please, please by bookinit/ @bookinit02 (S8, Touch Starved Eddie, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): or: buck doesn’t touch eddie anymore. eddie’s losing it, a little bit.

looks just like us (us without me) by TheGreenwoodArcher/ @joshwritesfics (S7E4: Buck, Bothered and Bewildered | 8K | Teen): or: Tommy takes Eddie on a date after the fight in 7x04, but Eddie doesn't realize it. Buck grows jealous anyway and makes it everyone's problem.

it’s not right (but it’s okay) by weewooforever (Infidelity, Post-S7 | 9K | Explicit): buck and eddie fuck nasty after tommy disappoints buck again.

🔥And Some Things You Just Can’t Speak About by icewhisper (Post-S7, Sexuality Crisis | 9K | Teen): Eddie is twenty-eight when he realizes he’s in love with Buck. He’s thirty-two when he finally faces what that means about himself.

🔥 a cold world for such a long life by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7 | 13K | Teen): Eddie befriends Bobby's estranged older brother in a virtual support group for queer adults struggling to come out. The only problem? He has no idea that's who Charlie is.

WIP

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 6/? | 37K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 10/14 | 43K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 137/? | 438K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Podfic

🔥 [podfic] tell the whole wide world and this room by All_I_Ask/ @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove // fic by @hattalove (Established Buddie | 45-60min | Teen): "I talk a lot. It’s probably not fun to sit through for something you’ll just instantly forget." Eddie tilts his head. “Who’s forgetting?” in which we learn about fermented milk products, discover that dolphins are sex fiends, and realize that sometimes, it really is all about knowing and being known.

🔥 [podfic] i don't swim and you're not in love by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by @hattalove (S4, Getting Together | 3.5-4h | Teen): She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.

Re-read

🔥 everything (nothing) has changed by bizarrestars (Post-S4, Love Confessions | 48K | Explicit): Buck breathes for a moment, then sets his shoulders. "Eddie, there's something I have to tell you." "Do you?" Eddie asks flatly, still alarmed and doing his best to hide it. "I would've never guessed." Buck swallows. "Eddie, I love you." "Are you softening the blow, or buttering me up? Because, I've got to tell you, I'm still very worried regardless," Eddie tells him. "No, you don't understand. I love you. I'm currently in love with you," Buck says as evenly as possible, and even then, his voice wobbles precariously there for a moment. He exhales. "You don't have to worry about it, though, because I've processed it and decided to—to find relief in telling you before moving on and moving forward." Eddie stares at him. No response at all. Well, at least he's not freaking out. — After Eddie gets shot, Buck confesses his love. From there, things get a little out of hand.

the one where buck finds out by weewooforever (Post-S7, Misunderstandings, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): “You’re — You’re over me?” Buck manages to choke out, looking towards Eddie with wide eyes. “When were you… “ He says, his voice barely above a whisper as he tries to make sense of this whole situation. “When were you under me?” or the one where buck listens to a voicemail that turns his whole life upside down.

🔥it's golden, like daylight by rarakiplin (gmontys)/ @hoediaz (S5, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): “Hmm,” Buck hums, and Eddie feels the vibration of it under his mouth. Buck’s nose nudges against the side of his head. “Have you thought about that?” Eddie laughs against Buck’s shoulder, unwilling to lift his head. “Thinking? Right now?” “Shut up,” fingers dig into his ribs, “I mean, would you want to? Be married again?”

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter eight

summary: you wake up in eddie’s house and they show you who you belong to.

word count: 2.9k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: the last chapter!!! and happy halloween!! seeing as my last series took 3 months, this one felt like it flew by, and i’m gonna miss it :// also, i got really into this chapter lowkey and it literally had my face hot as i was writing and idk why. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: smut, mentions of violence (nothing graphic), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ Only!

Your vision is still black when you feel the pain throughout your body coming back to you, and you let out a low groan. Your elbow is throbbing from hitting the ground, as well as one of your knees, and you’re sure your neck is already bruising from Buck’s hands wrapped around your throat.

As you slowly come back to your senses, you can feel that you’re in a chair with your wrists tied tightly behind your back, and you’re now only wearing a bra and panties. You don’t know how long you’ve been out, or where you are, and either way, you’re far too afraid of the voices you once thought of as your solace speaking across the room.

Being tied and blindfolded isn’t what brings your fear back, though, it’s the sound of the voices not far from where you are, one clearly angry, and the other anxious.

“How could you be so fucking stupid? Leaving your mask lying around!” You’re sure it’s Eddie who’s speaking, and you let out a quiet, ragged breath as you listen to them. You’re still barely able to believe that your sweet regulars could do this to you. They seemed so nice. So normal.

“It was in my closet! I forgot! She-” Buck begins to argue, but the loud groan you let out as a pain runs up your spine causes them both to turn to you. Must be from the fall, you think. Your breath catches in your throat as nothing but silence fills your ears, and your hands start to shake as you hear footsteps coming towards you.

Buck turns to you with a smirk on his face, excited to continue with their game, while Eddie is more wary. He’s still reeling from everything that’s just been dumped on him, and he can’t believe that Buck would do something so idiotic. He’s just lucky that Eddie is able to come up with plans so quickly.

Deep down, he’s happy he can finally have you, but he knows that doing this so sporadically increases their risk of being caught.

You blink a few times as the blindfold is ripped from your eyes, trying to focus your gaze as you’re met with bright lights and the dark black eyes of two masks.

They’ve brought you to Eddie’s house; it’s a lot less likely for anyone to hear you scream than at Buck’s apartment. You’re not sure how they managed to get you here without anyone seeing you, and you’re not sure you want to know either.

“There’s our sweet girl. You feeling alright, sweetheart?” Eddie speaks in a feigned soft voice. He’s not necessarily mad at you, so he doesn’t want to take it out on you completely, but even so, there’s a hint of gruffness in his voice.

Your lip quivers as you look up at him, the glint from the knives they’re both holding distracting you from the fact that they’re still wearing those masks, but only for a moment.

“My wrists hurt. Can you loosen the restraints?” you ask, trying to keep your voice soft and sweet. They were nice to you at one point, so you pray that if you’re nice enough to them, they might show you some mercy. Buck chuckles softly, and he’s about to lunge at you before Eddie stops him with a firm hand on his chest.

You yelp softly at Buck’s movement, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Nice try. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you tried to run from me. Twice.” Buck seethes, and you finally let a few tears fall. You lower your head, which makes Eddie smile. Such a submissive little thing now. Just like he’d known you’d be.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just scared. You caught me off guard.” you tell him in a shaky voice, looking up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you can muster.

You remember how desperate Buck was when he was kissing you, so you hope that you can get him back to that rather than the man standing in front of you. You’re sure if Eddie wasn’t here, the knife in Buck’s hand would already be firmly in your chest.

“You tried to run. You’ll learn soon enough that you can’t do that, yeah? You can never get away from us.” Eddie says calmly, and it makes your blood run cold. Eddie’s stoic voice is somehow scarier than Buck’s clearly enraged demeanour.

At least Buck is showing his anger. You have no idea what Eddie is thinking or how you could possibly talk yourself out of this with him.

“You killed all those people.” you tell them, your shoulders relaxing as you look up at them with a pleading expression. You can’t see the way their eyes travel down to your bra-covered tits and your soft tummy, and the way they focus on your exposed thighs, but even so, you shiver.

You’re terrified of what they could do, but you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up at their attention. The way they’re looking at you with their heads tilted to the side makes you feel things you know you shouldn’t, and you can’t help but think about their mouths on you in your apartment.

“They deserved it. They were abusers, and rapists, and racists. They deserved every single slice they got.” Eddie speaks in a low voice, and for a moment, his voice seems desperate. He wants you to see their side of this, but it’s difficult right now.

“You killed Grace. And Isaac.” you counter, chewing on your lip as you think about them.

Grace was hard enough for you to cope with, but they made you watch Isaac die, and that’s not something you’re sure you’ll ever forget.

“You’re really gonna keep pretending you give a shit about Grace? She disrespected you. She disrespected us.” Buck says angrily, his jaw clenched as he lets a hard breath out through his nose. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“When did she disrespect you?” you ask, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters at their protectiveness over you. They may be literal killers, but they were once your sweet regulars, and you hate that you love the idea of them caring so much about you.

“She disrespected what was ours. Disrespected our taste; as if we’d ever want someone like her.” Eddie rasps, and you’re not sure what to say about this. You had thought the same as her, after all; you weren’t sure why they chose you and not her. You wouldn’t dare tell them that, though.

“And as for Isaac, he was getting too close. He tried to take you from us.” Buck explains, licking his lips as he thinks about the fear in Isaac’s eyes when they killed him. How you let him hold you so close while Eddie killed Isaac.

“He didn’t. He was being nice.” you try to argue, your voice getting slightly louder as you sit up straighter. They both scoff, grips tightening on their knives.

“He wanted you for himself.” Eddie is getting angrier, you can tell by his tone. If you thought Buck was frightening, you’re sure Eddie would be much scarier if you could see his face beneath his mask right now.

“He was trying to help me feel better. Safer.” you say in a soft voice, ducking your head in fear.

“Yeah, trying to make you feel better by putting his disgusting hands on you, by corrupting our sweet girl. That’s our job.” Buck says, his body suddenly tensing. Your shoulders raise at his outburst, and you keep your eyes focused on the ground in front of you.

“Would you have let him touch you, sweetheart? Would you have let him kiss you, touch you, fuck you?” Eddie asks, and when you look up at him, his head is tilted slightly. He studies your every move, trying to decipher if you’ll lie to them or not.

You shake your head, whimpering soft no’s, and Eddie chuckles.

“Exactly, because you’re ours to take care of, isn’t that right? Don’t pretend that you didn’t like when we ate your pretty little pussy.” Buck says before Eddie can respond.

Eddie’s eyes dart to Buck for a split second before he looks back at your sheepish expression, and he knows immediately that they’ve got you right where they want you.

“Admit it, sweet girl.” Eddie urges, and you swallow before you speak.

“I liked it.” You can’t lie to them, especially not when they made you feel so good. You know that the fear should be eating you from the inside out right now, but you can also feel the familiar feeling of arousal in your belly as they stare you down.

“Good girl. See? You’re all ours to care for.” Buck purrs, his anger slowly melting away. You begin to calm down as Buck does, and you’re glad that the remnants of the sweet man you know are back, sort of.

“So, you’re not gonna hurt me?” you ask, sniffling softly as they step closer to you. They’re now towering over you, masks tilted at the same angle while they stare you down in your pretty cotton panties and black bra.

“Hurt you? Why would we hurt you?” Eddie asks in a slightly condescending tone, watching as Buck leans down just enough to drag his knife across your chest.

“Sweet girl, we don’t want to hurt you, we want to keep you.” Buck adds on, then uses the knife to tear the side of your panties. You shiver as the sound of ripping of fabric hits your ears, and your eyes widen slightly, hating how turned on you are.

“We’ll only mark up this pretty skin and paint it red if you disobey us, and you’re not gonna do that, are you, sweet girl?” Eddie asks, tearing the other side of your panties with his knife. Your thighs quiver as the fabric falls slightly, and a small gasp escapes your lips when Buck rips the fabric from your body completely.

“No, I won’t. I won’t, I promise.” you reply in a quivering voice, shaking your head fervently. You can’t tell if you’re more turned on or afraid right now, but you can feel the pool between your legs, and embarrassment fills your body.

Buck and Eddie smirk at each other at your quick response, although they can’t see each other’s faces, and then they both place the blades of their knives on your inner thighs. They force you to spread your legs for them, and they both smirk wider when they see the mess between your legs, although all you can see is the big, void holes of their masks.

“You’re dripping, baby. You must love the idea of being all ours.” Buck purrs, eyes on your glistening folds.

Eddie watches Buck as he kneels down and begins to press hot kisses to your inner thighs, getting dangerously close to your core as he pushes the mask up his face just enough to expose his mouth.

“Since you’ve been so good at controlling your anger, I’m gonna let you pick. You want her pussy, or her sweet little mouth?” Eddie asks Buck, and you feel yourself getting impossibly more turned on at the fact that he’s ignoring your say in the matter completely.

Buck thinks for a moment, unable to decide which he’d rather, but when he looks back down at your desperate cunt, he answers quickly.

“Need this pussy.” Buck murmurs, resisting the urge to bury his face between your thighs. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head at how hard of a time Buck has hiding his feelings.

Eddie wants to fuck you just as bad right now, but he wants your mouth almost as bad, and he knows by how wet you are that he’ll definitely get his chance. You’re theirs now.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and cuts your wrists loose while Buck pulls his mask back down, and then Buck is quick to pull you up, not giving you a chance to rub your wrists in a desperate attempt to soothe them.

Buck lifts you with ease, mostly so you don’t run again, and also because he so. fucking. desperate. His hands grip the back of your thighs tightly as he brings you to Eddie’s room, and he groans when he throws you onto the bed and you squeal softly.

They don’t give you a chance to speak, or breathe, before Eddie walks around Buck’s frame and flips you onto your stomach. His hands are on your hips as he urges you to lift your hips, making you arch your back and show them your dripping cunt once again.

Buck is already palming himself through his jeans as he takes in the sight of your ass in the air, waiting like the good girl that you are for their cocks. Your cheek is pressed against the sheets as you wait patiently for them to touch you, and when you feel a hand move up your thigh to your ass, then smack you harshly, you bite back a whimper.

A moan escapes your throat a second later when you feel the tip of Buck’s cock teasing your entrance, gathering up your arousal before he uses it to push all the way into you in one swift motion.

You’re not even used to the sheer size of him when Eddie moves to kneel in front of you on the bed, mask covering his face and clothes still covering his body, except for his hard, leaking cock that’s been pulled out of his pants.

He grabs your hair and roughly tugs you up onto your hands before he pushes his cock past your lips and into your mouth. You gag around him as he starts to move with force, mouth watering moans escaping his lips as he fucks your mouth.

“Yeah, you like that, sweet girl? I can feel you clenching around me.” Buck purrs, and you whimper around Eddie’s cock, unable to nod or speak.

Eddie chuckles darkly, picking up his pace to match Buck’s desperate thrusts to your cunt. Buck groans at the sight of you filled by both of them at once, and as much as he loves the sight, he fights hard to resist the urge to pull you back against him by your hair and fuck you harder.

You try your hardest to pay attention to Eddie as Buck abuses your cunt, trying to use your tongue and hollow your cheeks as he fucks your throat, but it’s difficult.

Buck is so deep inside of you, and you can already tell that you’re going to feel him for days after he’s done with you.

You can feel Eddie twitching as you look up at him, tears streaming down your face as you struggle to breath around his cock, but he doesn’t let up. He’s set on cumming down your throat, and no amount of tears will deter him.

You can feel yourself getting closer too, and you hate how good it feels to be used by both of them at once. Buck reaches one hand around to rub your clit in quick circles, making you whimper loudly around Eddie’s cock.

After a few more harsh thrusts, you cum with a loud moan, and Buck is teetering on the edge. When Eddie sees that you’ve been taken care of, he pulls his cock from your mouth and pulls you forward on the bed.

Your face brushes against the sheets again, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as Buck’s cock is pulled from your cunt. You can’t even speak when Eddie flips you around again, this time onto your back. You watch as he moves to stand beside Buck at the edge of the bed, then let him pull you off the bed and onto your knees in front of them.

They both want to breed you so bad; fuck their cum into you until you’re swollen with the constant reminder of who you belong to, but it’s too soon to think about that. Maybe when you’re properly trained for them, they’ll reward you by filling your pussy to the brim.

“Open your pretty little mouth, baby. You’re gonna take all of it, sweet girl, yeah?” Eddie purrs, and you nod quickly, eyes darting between both men as they start to fist their cocks eagerly.

You open your mouth as you wait, thighs squeezing together as you watch with hungry eyes.

Finally, finally, they both let go, coating your face and chest with their cum, and you try desperately to catch as much of it in your mouth as you can.

You swallow eagerly, eyes darting between them as you do, and when you stick out your tongue to show them that you’ve taken it all, they both smirk beneath the masks.

“There we go. Good girl; letting us fill your belly with our cum. And if you try to run again, we’ll gut you. Take it all away from you. You got that, sweet girl?” Eddie asks in a condescending tone.

In your post-orgasm daze, all you can do is nod, mumbling a soft “yes, promise I won’t.”

“Good girl. See? We’ll take care of you, sweet girl. You’re all. ours.” Buck rasps, and you nod again, biting your lip as you savour the taste of them on your tongue.

Their pretty girl. They know they’ve almost completely broken you already; ruined you for anyone else. Pretty soon, they won’t even need the knives. It won’t take them long to have you completely subservient to them, and then, they’ll reward you with their cum; fucked deep into your womb.

next chapter

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[hhghgt]

Eddie started painting, and his model is Buck

That’s how it started,

“You need time for yourself, Eddie. Not time as a dad or a firefighter—just time to be you, try something creative,” Frank suggested. “A hobby. Something that makes you feel... alive.”

Eddie thought about it for days, brushing off the suggestion. But one quiet evening, as he was cleaning out the garage, he found an old set of paints and brushes. The feel of the brushes in his hand sparked a memory of long-forgotten sketches and paintings he used to make in his teens.

It felt right.

The next day, he cleared a corner of the garage, set up an easel, and bought a blank canvas. He painted simple things at first—a mug, a chair—but it didn’t feel like enough. He needed something more dynamic, something challenging.

When Eddie mentioned this during a shift, Buck perked up.

“Why not paint a person?” Buck suggested, shrugging casually.

“Because I don’t have a person to paint,” Eddie replied.

Buck grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You’ve got me.”

Eddie blinked at him. “What?”

“I’ll be your model,” Buck said. “C’mon, Eddie. You need practice, and I’m free most nights. Plus, I'm great sitting still.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he found himself agreeing, if only to stop Buck’s incessant suggestions.

Shortly after that, their weekly session started

......

“You ready?” Eddie asked, forcing himself to focus.

“Always,” Buck replied with a grin.

But as Eddie glanced at him, his mind flashed back to Buck's teasing comment from the last session: “So, Eddie, should I get my clothes off?” It had been a joke then, but now at their 2rd session, with Buck sitting so still, staring at him with that sharp, focused gaze, Eddie couldn’t shake the thought. The memory made his pulse quicken.

Eddie was in the middle of painting, trying to focus on Buck’s posture, but his mind kept wandering. Buck had been sitting still, but there was something about the way his gaze was fixed on Eddie—sharp, unwavering—that made it impossible to concentrate.

Eddie’s brush moved over the canvas, but his eyes kept straying to Buck, taking in the way his shirt fit, the slight curve of his jaw, the way the light highlighted the sharpness of his features. Imagining him without his clothes how the light would.....

He’d forgotten the painting entirely, lost in the way Buck was staring at him.

The silence stretched, and Eddie’s heart raced. Buck hadn’t said anything—just stared back as if he has access to his thoughts. Eddie’s hand trembled, the brush faltering before it slipped from his grip, falling to the floor with a soft clink.

He blinked, snapping out of his daze, but when he looked at Buck again, he couldn’t hold eye contact. His chest tightened, and he suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious.

Buck chuckled softly. “You alright there?”

Eddie fidgeted, picking up the brush and avoiding Buck’s gaze. “Yeah, just—just stay still.” His voice was tight,

Few minutes went by Eddie stood frozen, his heart racing as he stared at the drawing of Buck, shirtless. His mind had been in a haze, caught between the act of painting and the growing awareness of how much Buck had come to mean to him. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing until he stepped back and saw the picture laid out in front of him.

Buck’s eyes were on him, quiet and intense. He stepped closer to the canvas, his gaze lingering over the detailed lines of his own form. When he turned to Eddie, there was something new in his expression—soft, yet charged.

“Well,” Buck said, crossing his arms casually, “if you wanted me to take my shirt off, you could’ve just asked.”

Eddie’s face burned. “Buck, stop,” he muttered, unable to look him in the eye.

Buck chuckled, stepping even closer. “What? You were clearly inspired.” He tilted his head, his grin widening. “Should I lose the jeans too? You know, for the sake of art.”

Eddie’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “Buck,” he warned, his voice low, but his body betrayed him—his pulse was racing, his cheeks flushed.

Buck leaned in, the teasing smirk softening as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Relax, Eddie. It’s just me.”

That was it. Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. The mix of Buck’s teasing and the tension that had been building for weeks finally pushed him over the edge. Before he could think, before he could second-guess, Eddie grabbed Buck by the collar and pulled him in, silencing whatever Buck was about to say.

[spotsandsocks]

Adorable 🩵

I’ll ask for 🎅🏽 with the word…cookie

:)

Hello and thanks for visiting my Christmas stocking themed in box. Cookie you say? Well this is what we have. Soft fluffy and a first kiss. Hope you enjoy it. 🍪🍪🍪🍪 800 words ish

It’s just them awake right now, standing alone in the firestation kitchen, a familiar safe comfortable space for them both. Eddie came up here to make himself a cup of camomile tea, Buck followed to watch him make it. Neither of them are surprised by the choices being made.

It’s late, the rest of the team are asleep or trying to be. The dim lighting casts shadows and makes Buck’s hair darker, fades out the blue of his eyes. Eddie doesn’t look too long as he pases over the mug of tea he made for Buck.

The wrinkled up nose and look of mild disgust settling on Buck’s face as he takes the drink and sniffs it generates a snicker of amusement that Eddie tries to keep quiet.

“Don’t like camomile tea.”

The tone is only mildly sulky.

“I know but you don’t hate it and it’ll help you sleep. So drink.”

Buck does as he’s told, his lips forming a distracting little ‘o’ as he blows to cool the steaming liquid and Eddie thinks it’s best to look away. A distracting sip from his own mug reveals it’s also a little hot. He blows too, happy enough to wait for it to be ready.

The silence is nice, it wraps around them, shelters them from everything else. Right here, right now it’s just them, sharing a moment.

The cup opposite him moves higher as Buck raises it and sips. When his mouth is visible again the corners are turned down and Eddie could laugh at the dramatics on display but he doesn’t because it’s just Buck being Buck and Eddie likes him just as he is.

The complaint is as he expected; over dramatic.

“Tastes like dish water.”

He snorts into his own teacup.

“Drink a lot of dish water do you?”

Despite the words its hard to keep the emotion out of his voice. The affection, the love. The way he’d do anything for this man.

“You know it tastes crap.”

Buck’s eyes find his with a pointed expression Eddie ignores and indulges at the same time.

“Would a cookie make it better.”

The sudden brightness on Buck’s face does activate the eye roll he’s been holding back.

“We have cookies? Thought they all got eaten.”

Eddie corrects him.

“I have a cookie but you can have it because I saved it for you.”

Turning to face his cookie hiding spot is far safer than looking at Buck. He says the rest of the words into the cupboard as he rummages.

“You were late and you know how they all are with food but I’m not getting between Chimney and a homemade cookie, so all I could do was grab you one.”

He has to turn around then, carefully wrapped cookie held out, an offering that possibly reveals more than he meant it to.

“You saved me a cookie.”

It’s not a question because it’s obvious that’s exactly what happened.

Buck blinks comically confused by the gesture. Eddie tries to explain.

“They were your favourite.”

He shrugs, eyes sliding away from the expression on Buck’s face hoping equally hard that his best friend understands and that he doesn’t.

“Didn’t want you to miss out.”

Buck hasn’t moved an inch but a jiggle of the extended cookie and a threat changes that.

“If you don’t want it, I'll eat it.”

That spurs Buck into action, he reaches out to claim what’s his.

“I want it”

Buck places his hand over his, taking the cookie but leaving a tingling trace of his fingertips behind. The sensation and the sudden tension in the air runs a shiver down Eddie’s spine.

“I want it.”

His stupid heart skips, beating a little faster at the tone Buck uses. The cookie is gently placed on the countertop and Eddie realises he hasn’t dropped his hand yet and then he realises Buck’s hand is back on his and he’s being pulled closer.

“You saved me a cookie.”

The words are ordinary enough, the way he says them isn’t.

Eddie nods. “Yeah”

The next moment is inevitable, they’ve been falling towards it in slow motion for years, maybe from the very first day they met.

“I should say thank you.”

He can feel each word on his skin because Buck is so close to him now.

“Ok.”

It’s a silly word to launch them into tomorrow but it’s enough for Buck to smile and close the gap between them, press their lips together and kiss him.

Eddie makes a tiny desperate noise as Buck's lips taste and tease his. He can feel the smile on Buck’s face widen when Eddie pulls him closer, reaches for more, slides into his mouth and kisses back, slow and soft, savouring every moment.

It’s just them right now, standing in the firestation kitchen, a familiar safe space for them both. The perfect place for this moment. Eddie came up here to make himself a cup of tea, Buck followed because that’s how they are.

Slow kisses end and Buck licks his lips.

“Hey you have honey in your tea”

The complaint makes him laugh.

“You don’t even like sweet drinks”

Buck pouts. “Ok that’s true but not the point.”

He’s right of course, camomile tea is not the point, the point is the cookie and what it meant for them both, maybe Buck might be inclined to share it later, maybe not but right now he’s more than happy to share kisses and that is enough for Eddie.

[shitouttabuck]

the same damn thing that made my heart surrender

buck/eddie | 1.4k | t

It’s quiet and late at the station, so Eddie can very clearly hear Buck dragging his feet across the loft from the kitchen to the couch, the sound such a specific combination of distracted and perturbed he already knows to expect the little crease between his eyebrows when he finally flings himself down beside Eddie.

“Ugh,” he says, frowning at his phone as he scrolls what seems to be Instagram.

Eddie hums indulgently, not taking his eyes off the newspaper crossword he pilfered from Hen earlier.

“Ugh,” Buck says again, much more pointed and with an additional nudge to Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’m listening. What, Buck.”

“Ever since that barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s last weekend I’ve been getting the weirdest targeted ads on my Insta,” he pouts, scrolling some more.

“Weird how?” Five letter word for estrangement, ending with T.

Buck huffs and turns on the couch to face Eddie, lifting one leg up onto the cushion and folding it under himself.

“Well, May was introducing me to her college roommate—who, by the way, was giving off way more than just roommate vibes, did you notice? Like, they were acting real cozy and she kept—never mind, sorry, not the point, what I was saying was she borrowed my phone to look up something in one of those online stores, I don’t know, I guess they’re trying to decorate their apartment with a specific aesthetic? Either way, ever since then the Instagram algorithm seems to think that I want to see—” He stops scrolling, lifting his phone and thrusting it emphatically in Eddie’s face, “—shit like this.”

Eddie blinks at the proximity of the bright screen to his face, putting down his pencil to gently move Buck’s hand back a bit so he can see properly.

On the screen is an ad for… a pale blue babydoll tee with the word BRAT screenprinted across the chest in curly pink letters.

Eddie blinks again, mind blissfully empty of synapses firing until Buck says, “See? Why does my phone think this is something I would be interested in purchasing. I mean, can you imagine?”

Eddie can. Eddie can imagine. But dear God, Eddie does not want to imagine. Because now the synapses are firing like some kind of mental train derailment of catastrophic proportions, and Eddie’s mind is conjuring images of Buck, his best friend Buck, squeezed into this skin-tight cotton tee, already tailored to be snug-fitted on much smaller bodies and so nothing short of straining at every seam when met with the bulge of Buck’s biceps, the graphic logo proclaiming BRAT probably distorted across his broad, meaty chest.

“There’s more,” Buck’s telling him, scrolling again. “Like, look at this.”

He stops on a post that seems to be selling tiny red booty shorts, the words SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY emblazoned on the ass.

“I can’t wear shorts this short, my junk would fall out,” Buck grumbles to himself, scrolling once more for probably yet another advertisement whose only targeted goal is to ruin Eddie’s life, selling of wares be damned.

“I’m pretty sure those are women’s shorts,” Eddie says weakly, not thinking about Buck’s perky bubble butt clad in two-inch inseam booty shorts. Definitely not thinking about Buck disgruntledly tucking his dick so not to commit an act of public indecency—more so than the very donning of the shorts would count.

“Well, why doesn’t my algorithm know I’m a dude yet? If I’m being advertised this shit, at least let it be stuff I could plausibly buy for myself, you know?”

Eddie hums, only a little strangled. “So, you’d, uh, buy those shorts if they sold them in men’s sizes?”

Buck ignores him in favour of thrusting his phone at him again. “Look! This one and the next, keep scrolling.”

Eddie takes the phone from him, squinting at it. The first is another skin-tight babydoll tee, with the words GOOD GIRLS printed across the tits and the image of a swooping bird below.

“I don’t get it,” Eddie says, pausing over the post. “Good girls like birdwatching?”

Buck snorts, tips of his ears turning a little pink. “It’s a swallow.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. Then, “Oh.”

He scrolls to the next post as instructed. This one is a white t-shirt that says DON’T BULLY ME, I’LL CUM in red lettering, which—

“I’m either learning some—unforgettable things about you or about May, and honest to God, gun to my head, I don’t know which is worse,” he says faintly, tapping to the next post.

“Shut up, it’s not that fucking literal,” Buck grumbles, settling against the couch cushion more comfortably and watching Eddie scroll. “She was probably looking at some trendy Gen Z homeware or whatever and the algorithm saw the website and ran with it.”

“Mm, and you only started getting these ads after the barbecue? None of this is—your own digital footprint coming back to bite you in the ass?” Eddie grins as he passes a sponsored post for a vibrator brand.

“My digital footprint is not reflective of my sex life,” Buck huffs. “It’s not wrong, but it’s not—why the hell would I buy a tiny woman’s shirt that says BRAT across the chest?”

“Maybe because you—wait, it’s not wrong?” Once again, Eddie’s neurons stutter to an unexpected and horny stop. On the screen of Buck’s phone, his finger has halted over an ad for… jumbo-packs of lube, of all things. Eddie clears his throat. “Ooh, scandalous.”

“What?” Buck makes grabby hands for his phone.

Eddie passes it to him. “May really did mess up your algorithm. Also, I don’t know how I’m gonna look her in the eye at the next party.”

“Oh, uh,” Buck says, looking at the screen before turning off his phone. “No, that’s just. That’s just me, I think.”

Eddie wonders if his brain starting and stopping so frequently can result in permanent brain damage. He’s not sure he cares, because the resulting mental pictures—okay, some of that’s off-limits, always has been. Loving your best friend and respecting your best friend are not mutually exclusive, except, as it turns out, when you’re faced with the reminder that your best friend is having marathon anal sex with his—boyfriend, partner, whatever it is that Tommy is to him. Enough athletic and enthusiastic fucking to be getting ads for bulk-order lube on motherfucking Instagram.

He wonders if Tommy calls him that, calls him a brat and tells him he’s a good girl when he—

Wonders if Buck does like being bullied a little in bed—just teasing, Eddie would never—except it’s not Eddie, Eddie’s not involved in Buck’s love life, and what Eddie does need to do is shut down this line of thought before his strategically placed newspaper fails to hide that he’s half-hard at the thought of Buck in these ridiculously sexual innuendo themed women’s clothes.

“You’re not gonna finish that?” Buck nods to the folded crossword in his lap.

Eddie sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Uh. Sure.” He tilts the paper toward Buck, unwilling to hand it over completely. “Five letter for estrangement, ending in—”

“Split,” Buck says, nodding at the paper. “It’d fit with the P from apprise in ten down.”

“Oh,” Eddie peers at the crossword. “Yeah, it does. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ve, uh. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“About estrangement?” Eddie asks distractedly, filling in the letters. “Four letter word for just around the corner?”

Buck fidgets beside him. “About—splitting. Specifically—me and Tommy?”

Eddie looks up at him so fast he nearly gets whiplash. His grip on the pencil falters, and it skitters across the loft floor.

“That’s—not true. We’ve already—a week or so ago. We’re still friends, don’t worry,” Buck rushes to tell him. “He just realised, like, with you and me—well, I guess he knew the whole time, but I just realised—the way that you and I—the way that it’s us—c’mon, Eddie.”

“What?” Eddie manages, hoarser than he’s heard himself before.

“Eddie.”

“What’re you saying, Buck?”

“Are you gonna make me spell it out?” Buck sighs. “If I got a pair of red booty shorts that spelled SAVE A FIRE ENGINE, RIDE A FIREFIGHTER across the ass, would that work?”

“Tommy’s a firefighter,” Eddie says weakly.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Buck mutters under his breath. “Fine, if they said SAVE A FIRE ENGINE, RIDE A FIREFIGHTER WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND AND PARTNER, would it work then?”

“That’s a lot of writing,” Eddie says, voice still faint. “You don’t have the real estate in the rear for all that.”

When Buck kisses him, exasperated groan crushed into Eddie’s mouth, Eddie knows this is the rest of it—the rest of knowing him entirely: real, endless, and with a convenient standing order for bulk-packaged lube without involving any nosy algorithms.

“Four letter word for just around the corner. Near. Soon. This.”