#and of course ~buck sleeping on eddie's couch~

[buckleyseddie]

all i can say is, i was enchanted to meet you .・。.・゜✭ [1] [2] [3]

happy birthday @cowboy-buck ♡

[burnthatbridge]

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know) 

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious.  “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all. 

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed. 

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled. 

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress. 

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul. 

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it. 

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t. 

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission. 

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else. 

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to. 

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him. 

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie. 

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.” 

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it. 

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them. 

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.” 

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

[sassytommykinard]

fluff prompt: Tommy comes to the 118 to surprise Buck at work, and finds Buck asleep on the couch

Oooh Ellie, I love this so much. I hope you like it!

"How long as he been like this?" Tommy asks, looking at his boyfriend with a mixture of, what he's sure is, affection and exasperation.

"About an hour," Eddie admits as they both stand there. "We made him lay down to rest, but he was out within a few minutes. We thought we'd let him get the sleep before we called you to grab him."

Tommy sighs. "I told him to call out but he refused."

"Sounds right," Eddie answers. "He's all yours, man."

Tommy snorts a laugh as Eddie claps his shoulder and walks away.

Tommy makes his way over to a very clearly congested Evan, and leans down, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Baby," he says softly, he doesn't want to startle him. Luckily, it seems to work as Evan's eyes flutter open and he gives a very unattractive, loud, sniffle.

He's so gross and adorable. Not that he'll tell Evan the first part of course. He's never made that mistake, not even with the boils.

"Hi," he rasps and Tommy winces in sympathy. "What're you doing here?"

Tommy laughs a little at the absurdity of the question considering that Evan's cold has clearly gotten worse.

"I'm surprising you," Tommy says brightly. "With a trip home! Isn't that great?"

"No, but, I don't need to-" he's interrupted by a loud coughing fit. "-go home."

"Uh huh," Tommy says skeptically. He raises his head and hollers towards Bobby's office. "Bobby, want me to take Evan home with me?"

"For the love of God, yes," Bobby hollers back and Tommy looks at Evan pointedly, who promptly rolls his eyes.

"Fine," Tommy resists the urge to tell him that that sounded like 'find.' He's a good boyfriend like that.

"Come on, sweetheart," he says, grabbing Evan's hands and tugging him off the couch. "I already stopped and got you some meds so we can go straight home."

Evan sags against him. "Okay."

He gets Evan to his truck, tucking him inside before going around and getting in himself.

"Hey, Tommy?" Evan asks, really sounding miserable and Tommy feels for him. They hate it when the other is sick because they know there's not really that much they can do but be there for each other.

"Yeah?" he answers as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"Will you cuddle with me even though I'm all congested and gross?"

"You're not gross," Tommy says automatically and Evan snorts. "But yes, baby, I'll cuddle with you."

"Mmmk," Evan mutters as he lays his head against the window and promptly falls asleep again.

Adorable dork, Tommy thinks fondly as he drives them home. It's a good thing he's completely in love with him.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 42!

another lovely reading week! i really need to sort through my marked for later list though, it just keeps growing... a task for next week, perhaps?

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! note that unlike in previous weeks, this list contains some fics that are set during season 8, so be careful if you don't want spoilers!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

drench yourself in words unspoken | foxwatson/@eddiediazes | 26.2k | T

the one where everything in canon is the same, except eddie diaz is secretly a bestselling romance author, and nobody knows. Yet. romance writer eddie is brilliant, the vision!! and this is so well-written <3

lazy sunday (lay with me) | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 1.3k | G

Buck wakes up to sleepy morning couch cuddles with his second favorite Diaz boy AKA Eddie is clingy in the morning. clingy eddie is so special to me <3 this captures that soft moning atmosphere perfectly!

line | the_one_that_fell/@buckvalentina | 4.4k | E

Eddie and Buck cross a line in an El Paso motel. okay but this fic. THIS FIC. they absolutely would do the in person phone sex no touching thing. it's so them i'm obsessed

please, i've been on my knees | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 11.6k | E

Buck discovers he has a kink. this is the most recent addition to the list, i only read it this morning! and wow what a way to wake up... a good day to be me. it's sweet and funny and hot and i loved research!buck <3

pumpkin spice and everything nice | PretentiousSwanQueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 4k | M

Buck tries to get Eddie to accept one pumpkin spiced flavored something in his life and eventually finds success (in love and edibles). no but this fic is so right buck would love pumpkin spice and eddie wouldn't!! such a fun read!

songs and poems and promises | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 4.9k | E

“Stubble’s kinda crazy,” Buck says, “And it actually kinda drives me crazy. I didn’t think I’d be into that, you know? But it’s cool. Like, he’s a man, you know?” [...] “It’s just like, you know, even though it doesn’t feel as good, there are still all these new things that I didn’t expect I’d like so much.” in just a few lines this captures the firefam dynamics so well!! and the buddie is also brilliant of course. i had a great time with this one <3

stop waking me up in the middle of the night | reincrimination/@reincrimination | 2.3k | G

“Do you not like sleeping with me, Diaz?” Buck hazards, taking a swig of his nearly-empty bottle. [...] “If you would stop waking me up in the middle of the night, I might like it more,” Eddie sighs, half-genuine in his annoyance. “Buck kicks like a racehorse.” pandemic era buddie bed sharing fics hit so hard <3 this is lovely!!

sweetheart (you look a little tired) | EiraLloyd | 14.6k | T

five times Buck tried to cheer up Eddie with baked goods, and one time Eddie tried to cheer up Buck with baked goods. i love baking and i love buddie so basically this is perfect for me <3 had a lovely time reading through this earlier this week!!

the kiss that lingers | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 10.7k | E

5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark & 1 time he doesn't. birthmark kisses my absolute beloved <3 soft and sweet and so them!!

too often the power of touch is underestimated | xjustlikeyou/@xjustlikeyou | 15.3k | T

Five times a touch knocked Eddie off his feet, and the one time he got to return the favor. buddie and eddiekaren bestieism what else could i possibly want <3 so good!!

the sincerest form of flattery | canadadry | 1.7k | NR

in which Brad Torrence only almost passes out, and observes the aftermath. brad torrence is the gift that keeps on giving <3 i loved his inner dialogue here!!

touching me, touching you | rainbow_nerds/@rainbow-nerdss | 7.1k | E

Buck and Eddie wake up one morning able to feel each other's touch. They make the most of it. i love the premise of this fic so so much, it's so cool?? and executed so well <3

what's your love language? | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 18.3k | E

After finding out that Eddie doesn't know what his love language is, Buck sets about finding out for him. He begins a five week experiment, one for each love language, to figure out which will make Eddie feel the most loved. this fic makes me go !!!! inside. i love the way buck goes all out to make eddie feel loved while also thinking it's the most normal thing in the world. and that ending!

you bring me comfort | thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 | 4.2k | T

Eddie is touched starved and just needs a hug instead, instead he has his sweater. i've read this so many times by now, it's an absolute favourite!! i'm a big fan of giving eddie comfort in whatever way he wants or needs <3

[homerforsure]

Saw the episode. Ascended to a higher plane. Wrote a small Coda that is as messy as my brain is right now. Bone Apple Tea.

"Heyyyyyy Buck!" Eddie answers the phone with a drawn out salutation that proves Tommy was not lying about him being sent away from the hospital with the good drugs. Or, not lying about the prescription, but about Eddie actually taking them. It wasn't so long ago that Eddie would take enough medicine to avoid being in agony, but never quite enough to actually feel relief. He wouldn't do that for Tommy, however close they are. It's something that Eddie's doing for himself. Buck's stomach was a swarm of butterflies three seconds ago, but that and the floaty happy way Eddie still says his name, has him smiling again in his kitchen.

"Hey Eddie. I, um, I'm sorry to call so late. I just wanted to see how- how you were doing."

"Eh, I'll miss a shift or two. But Doc says I'll be ready to go for playoffs," Eddie answers.

Guilt twists through him, harsh and acidic and Buck says, "Well I'm glad to hear that. They say the team doesn't have a chance without you and your, um, sky dunk." Eddie laughs, giggles really, in reply and Buck says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't know why I did that. I mean- I- I know why. I was jealous of you and- and Tommy-" Buck's heart flips as he says his name and he's afraid the kiss is going to come flying out of his mouth and down the phone line- "But I never wanted you to get hurt like that."

"You wanted me to get hurt different?" Eddie asks, still laughing, but Buck feels stricken.

"No! I- maybe. I don't know what I wanted. I lost my mind for a little bit."

"You were jealous," Eddie repeats.

"Yeah, I was."

A long sigh and Eddie says, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I was the asshole. I could have- I knocked you out of your shoe."

"Do you have my shoe?" Eddie asks, more focused than he has been the rest of the conversation. Buck can hear him sitting up on the couch.

"Uh, no. No, I gave it to Chim. He's gonna give it to you when he sees you. And probably make about 50 Cinderella jokes."

"Right. He texted me. I remember."

"I'm sure he'll bring it by sooner if you need it. Or he could give it to Tommy." The flush is there again, hot down the back of his neck. Buck doesn't know how he's supposed to do this. Where is he supposed to keep all of this heat and possibility while he waits for Saturday.

"You don't like him."

"Who? Chim? He's growing on me."

"Tommy," Eddie answers in a tone that says duh. "You can't even say his name normal."

Of course Eddie can hear that. Of course he assumes that's the problem after the way Buck has acted since the moment they met the man. He thanks god that he decided to call instead of driving across town and checking on Eddie in person. His cheeks and his ears are burning like fire.

"He can tell, you know. We both can. He said he's going to come talk to you. Gave him your address. Wants to apologize." Eddie must have settled back down on the couch. He sounds sleepier, his sentences getting shorter and more breathy.

"He did. He um. He came by. We talked it out. I told him you guys didn't have anything to apologize for. I was the one who made it weird."

"So weird," Eddie agrees and Buck laughs. "You guys should be friends. He's awesome and you're awesome and we can all hang out together and it would be..."

"Awesome," Buck finishes. He thinks it might be.

"I forgot you don't know that."

"Know what?" Buck asks, when Eddie's mumble doesn't come with any additional clarification. "Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Never mind. Hey, you should get up and go to your bed. Sleeping on that couch is not going to help your ankle heal any faster."

"Tommy said that."

"Tommy's right. Come on."

Eddie groans as he sits up, cursing at Buck in what he thinks is under his breath, and asks, "You talked to Tommy?"

"Yeah, he just left."

"And we're okay? You like him now?"

Buck's blood roars through his ears and he wants to throw up and start laughing all at the same time. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Good."

He breathes through the sudden headrush as Eddie grumbles and hops his way off the couch and down the hall. Buck knows where he's finding his handholds by the echo off the walls and he winces when Eddie takes a misstep and swears again. He thinks for a second that he should be there, that he should help Eddie to bed, but Eddie would never let him. Buck wonders if Tommy would let him. He's wondering about so much now and he never did before.

"Hey, Eds?" The question is out before Buck realizes he's asking it, small and vulnerable, and he wants to claw it back and swallow it down before Eddie notices, but he doesn't have a chance.

"Yeah?"

Tommy kissed me. I want him to do it again.

"No, nothing. Just. I'm sorry. I was out of line."

"You were," Eddie answers. "And I forgive you."

Something settles in Buck then. A piece that had still been sitting off kilter and jamming painfully under his ribs. He takes a deep breath, and joy washes fully over him, calming and centering. He doesn't ask the question again though. He thinks he wants to keep this tiny, glowing treasure to himself. At least for a little while.

"Bring me my shoe back and we'll call it even."

Buck laughs, letting the sound ring out through his apartment and he can hear Eddie smiling on the other end of the phone.

[eddiestightywhities]

Eddie stumbles from his tangled bedsheets to go take his nightly piss—alarm clock beaming its 4:03 AM display directly onto his sleep-wrecked retinas and etching it there for what will possibly be all of eternity—because being past the age of thirty is all fun and games. 

Bare feet padding quietly as an exhausted still half-asleep one hundred and seventy-five pounds not far off six-foot guy can manage, he's just about to pass the living room when he hears... something.  

He stops. Holds his breath. Listens. 

Buck is mumbling, talking in his sleep.

“And, man, I (something something) you. Because you always listen to me; never make me feel bad for (something something), always make me feel like I'm worth sticking around for, and I (something something) for that, Eddie.”

Buck is dreaming. Buck is dreaming about Eddie. Buck is dreaming about Eddie making Buck feel wanted. 

Eddie smiles—and before realising what he's doing he is in his living room, leaning over his couch, leaning over Buck, and pressing a soft kiss to Buck's birthmark as if he's done this a thousand times before. 

Buck wakes, blinks, smiles sleepily back at Eddie, cute as a bug, and is then craning his neck to peck his own soft kiss to the small mole underneath Eddie's left eye. 

With the speed of a gunshot or a lightning strike, Eddie suddenly doesn't know why the hell Buck is sleeping on his couch instead of in his bed, or why the hell he hasn't had the guts to tell Buck that he is so, so in love with him—especially after Buck split with Tommy a few weeks back and started testing the water with Eddie when Eddie grew a moustache and styled his hair a little differently and suggested they go to that gay club down on Burbank together to drink stupid amazing pink cocktails and dance the night away as if they didn't have a care in the world)—and then just as fast, he's thinking fuck it, and la vida es demasiado corta, deciding to remedy the latter (with the hope it might remedy the former) by saying, “It's ass o'clock in the morning, Buck, and I really fucking love you.” 

Eddie's best friend is at once wide a-fucking-wake, eyes the size of abuela’s best Talavera dinner plates, mouth doing a pretty great impression of a guppy as he gawps up at Eddie. 

There's a concerningly long moment of silence, before Buck says, “Oh.” 

Like a champ, Eddie chooses to ignore the way his heart plummets as it tries to relocate somewhere deep in his gut, because he's had to get pretty damn good at that, what with everything that has happened in his loco life. So he just smiles again, a little dimmer, a little more tight-lipped, while nodding his head and rolling his eyes in a yeah, silly ol’me, huh? sort of way, and is about to push himself upright with the hand gripping the top of the couch so that he can drag his sorry ass back to his bedroom and get a tension headache from not allowing himself to cry and getting zero sleep for what will probably be the rest his life and— 

That's when Buck reaches out, a big hand grabbing at Eddie's waist. 

Eddie's gaze tears itself away from those beautiful Talavera eyes that are shining brightly in the thick darkness of his sleeping house, settling where Buck's hand is holding him in place, where the contact blazes; not like fire but like the ever-burning candle flame that's lived behind Eddie's ribcage for the past seven or so years.

“Eds, I’m—I wasn't, like, awake enough to, uh, to, to, to process that? And the thing is—” 

“Hey, no, Buck, it's okay, you don't need to explain.” Eddie's heart is falling, falling, falling, right to the very soles of his feet. “I shouldn't have just blurted that out at you, without any preamble—

“Eddie.”

“—and I definitely shouldn't have bothered you while your were—”  

“Eddie." 

“—sleeping, I just—

“Eddie, will you shut up!”  

Eddie's teeth clack as he dutifully swallows the rest of his rambling. 

“Can you please just listen to me for a sec?” Buck pleads.  

“I—yeah, Buck, sure. I'm sorry, ‘course. Sorry.”

Buck takes a breath. “You don't gotta be sorry, Eds, I was just trying to say: The thing is, I have said a lot of dumb things in my life—like a lot—but me saying ‘oh’ to you telling me that you love me? Yeah, no, that has to top the bill. Dumbest fucking thing that's ever left these lips.” Eddie can't help it when his gaze flickers to the pretty culprits; it's an involuntary action by this point. “Because,” and Buck is now licking at them—tongue wet and lush against plush red—before he's honest to Dios batting those beautiful blonde eyelashes of his in Eddie's helpless direction, then breathing his next words right into Eddie's mouth as he leans up, pulling Eddie into him at the same time and fanning the flame in Eddie's chest by saying, “I really fucking love you too, Eds.”  

And then he's kissing Eddie again—only this time he's pressing his lips into Eddie's lips, and Eddie is right there with him, kissing Buck back as if they've done this a thousand times before. 

When Buck has to pull away, presumably to prevent a crick in his neck—Eddie cannot fathom even half of another good reason to stop—Eddie goes to follow him down, so eager after so long, wanting to cover the entirety of Buck's body with the entirety of his own. But Buck shakes his head and says says, “No, wait, Eddie.”  

Before Eddie's heart can start digging its way down through the carpet and floorboards and foundations and dirt to some place that resembles an old forgotten underground well, Buck is asking, “Can I come to bed with you?”  

Then Eddie gets whiplash from having to will his heart from beating right out of his chest with just how much happiness is bursting its way in there; with Buck bursting in with all of his love and sharing it with Eddie, just like everything else in their lives.  

Eddie feels his cheeks flush when he says, “That's, uh—honestly, Buck? You'd kinda be making my favourite recurring dream come true, if you did.”

“Well, you shot my recurring dream down in flames, Eds, by not listening to me for what must be the very first time in seven literal years and talking right over my heartfelt love confession—even if I did end up stealing your line,” Buck smiles. Then he frowns and tuts dramatically.“You're a monster, Eddie Diaz,” he adds, teasing.   

Eddie pays back Buck's grin with added interest, because it's as infectious and unstoppable as the common cold.

“Firstly, you had just answered 'oh' when I told you that I loved you, and secondly, does this monster not get a pass seeing as we just got off a clusterfuck of a twenty-four and it's ass o'clock in the morning and I'd assumed you were trying to let me down gently?” 

“Absolutely not, Firefighter Diaz. One should never assume when it comes to a Buckley.” He follows the statement with a pointed look. “But I might think about letting you make it up to me,” and he's now grinning again, and this time it's a sort of sheepish, hopeful thing, “if you agree to being the teaspoon to my tablespoon in your big, comfortable bed. What do you say?” He bats those blonde lashes again, as if Eddie would need convincing. 

“I say yes sir, Firefighter Buckley,” Eddie agrees instantly, obviously, bending down to scoop a surprised Buck up and over his shoulder and into a very appropriate Evacuation Lift, Buck kind of squealing hilariously when Eddie sets off for his bedroom at what is a pretty impressive pace, if you were to ask Eddie. 

And after they've sunk their bodies beneath the tangled bedsheets at ass o'clock in the morning (4.12 AM to be precise), and as Buck wraps the entirety of his long self around the entirety of Eddie, in Eddie's bed—their bed, now, Eddie's hoping—Eddie breathes in a full breath for the first time all summer, allowing himself to love and be loved.  

His next big breath is a couple of weeks later, when Christopher comes home and rolls his eyes at Eddie and Buck after they tell him they're together, merely giving them a slightly obnoxious finally! in that patented teenage tone before heading to his room to set up his gaming station and settle back in, like he'd never even been away.  

Oh, and in case anyone were to wonder, Eddie would have to admit that he really, really loves being the little spoon—almost as much as he and Buck love each other. 

.

on ao3 HERE if you'd like to leave me a comment!

[chronicowboy]

Buck is stood staring at his couch with a wrinkled nose when a frantic knocking rips him from his thoughts. Frowning, he skids over to the door on socked feet and yanks it open to reveal a harried Eddie and sheepish Christopher.

"Tell me you aren't busy," Eddie pleads, already pushing into the loft to set down two dangerously full grocery bags on the kitchen island.

The loft suddenly seems a lot brighter, feels a lot warmer.

"I'm not busy," Buck replies as he shoots a questioning look at Christopher who only bites his lip and looks away.

"Oh, thank God." Eddie grabs him by the shoulders with a grateful smile before taking a deep breath. "I am. Busy. Like incredibly busy."

"Okay..." Buck narrows his eyes at him. "So, I'm hanging out with my favourite Diaz then?"

"Hold the thought on that favourite bit," Eddie huffs, dropping his hands. Buck's shoulders turn cold at the loss, he shrugs the absence off. Eddie turns to Christopher with his arms folded over his chest and an arched eyebrow. "Want to tell Buck what you decided to tell me at four pm this afternoon?"

"Fine," Chris sighs, looking up at Buck guiltily. "I need to bake cookies for my whole class."

"Sure, we can do that." Buck frowns, sharing a look with a still frantic Eddie. "When do you need them for?"

Christopher averts his eyes. Realisation dawns on Buck, and he shares a knowingly unimpressed look with Eddie.

"Tomorrow," he mumbles.

"Chris," Buck groans.

"I know, okay?" Chris groans right back. "I forgot. I'm sorry. Will you help me? Please?" He breaks out his patented puppy eyes, and Buck has to try hard not to laugh at the notion he wasn't going to help Chris all along.

Buck steals a look at an apologetic Eddie, shakes his head in a way he hopes conveys I've got your back.

"Of course I will, Chris, you know that." His eyes snap to Christopher when Eddie's face melts into that dangerously fond expression. He's been seeing a lot more of it ever since he woke up from his coma, and it makes him feel a little like a lightning bolt trapped in a human body. He doesn't know what to make of it.

"You are a lifesaver," Eddie tells him seriously, pulling him into a quick hug. "I've gotta get over to Pepa's, but I'll be back around dinner time, okay?"

"Oh, I see," Buck tuts. "You just want to reap the benefits of all our hard work."

"Obviously." Eddie pulls one of his patented frog faces. "I wasn't trying to hide that."

"Lazy good-for-nothing," Buck says, except it comes out sounding much more like you're everything.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Who here was asleep for a wholeass week?" Eddie retorts.

"Ass," Chris snickers.

"Don't," Buck and Eddie scold in unison, sharing a bashful smile. Chris just rolls his eyes.

Buck tries not to preen at how natural all of this is, thinks of Bobby's words in the engine just before lightning struck.

Life's too short to take those relationships for granted.

Buck has seen his world without the Diazes in it, he'll never take them for granted again.

"I don't think a coma is technically considered sleep," Buck argues, just happy that Eddie isn't flinching away from the reminder of the accident like he used to.

"Well, you weren't snoring," Eddie concedes.

"I don't snore!"

"Buck, the only reason I felt okay leaving you sleeping on the couch to make Christopher's lunch was because I could hear you breathing all the way from the kitchen." Buck tries not to think about a worried Eddie hovering over him, fingers itching to reach out and find a pulse, lingering in the doorway to the kitchen because he didn't want to leave Buck alone. "You snore."

"You snore," Chris agrees.

"Betrayal!" Buck gasps. "We're making oatmeal raisin cookies."

"Nooooooo!" Chris cries. "Buck, please!"

"Do I snore?" Buck demands.

"Nope." Chris grins.

"Chocolate chip it is."

"Double chocolate chip?" he tries, eyes wide and sparkling. Buck loves him desperately.

"Nice try, kid." Eddie drops a hand onto Christopher's head. "You get double chocolate chip when you tell us more than one day in advance."

Something warm and content settles in Buck's gut at the ease of Eddie's us.

"Buck?" Chris pouts up at him.

"Nah, not gonna work on me." Buck shakes his head, folds his arms over his chest. Eddie sends him a smile, the small and private one that tucks itself into Eddie's rosy cheeks, the one that Buck's pretty sure he'd return from the dead just to see again.

"Okay, well, you two have got it under control." Eddie ducks down to drop a muah! on Christopher's head, presses a quick one to Buck's cheek. "I'm off! Love you both, see you for dinner!"

Eddie sweeps out of the door in a whirlwind of frantic energy. Buck just watches him go, mouth half-open in a soft 'o' as the skin of his cheek tingles where Eddie's lips had been. He stares at the closed door with wide eyes, stares for so long his mouth goes dry.

Maybe he does have the answers, maybe he's had a couch all along.

A sharp tug on his shirt pulls him from his trance, and he looks down at Christopher.

"Cookies?" he says, entirely too knowing for an eleven-almost-twelve-year-old.

"Cookies," Buck nods.

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter seven

summary: buck and eddie continue to keep you company, until you find something interesting at buck's apartment.

word count: 3.0k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: the second last chapter already, that’s so crazy😵‍💫 i love how this turned out and i’m so sorry for the cliffhanger but it had to happen hehe. enjoy<3

warnings: stalking, slight noncon, buck being crazy (cutely<3), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

As the weeks go by, you start to feel less on edge about your situation. People are still dropping dead around the city, and you’d be lying if you said the details of the murder didn’t cause chills to run down your spine, but you don’t know any of the people. For some reason, you find it a little bit easier to sleep at night knowing this.

Buck and Eddie have been a tremendous help to your feelings of comfort and safety, too. Not only do they walk you home from work every night, except for when they’re working, of course, but one of them makes sure they’re at your home or you’re at theirs most of the time.

Tonight, Eddie’s at your house while Buck babysits his niece and Christopher. He’s made you dinner; nothing special because he’s not nearly as skilled in the kitchen as Buck, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You park yourselves on your couch, your leg partly over his as you sit cross-legged beside him, which is making it painstakingly hard for him not to pull you over his lap and press hot, open mouth kisses down your neck.

“There’s more here. You want any sweet- heart?” you hear him ask loudly when he goes to the kitchen to get you both some water. You’re so engrossed in the show you put on that you don’t think too hard about the pause between sweet and heart. You smile, shaking your head, although he’s not able to see you from the kitchen.

“No, thanks!” you yell back, and Eddie can’t even answer. His hands are gripping the side of the counter as he bows his head, taking deep, steady breaths. He almost fucked up. Like, really fucked up. His jaw is clenched as he tries to calm himself down; he knows you’ll get curious if he spends too long in the kitchen. But he knows how badly it would’ve gone if he let his words actually slip, which makes it hard for him to slow his racing heart.

He remembers the realization on your face when they called you sweet girl as they killed Isaac. He knows that you’d put two and two together. You’re their smart, sweet girl, of course you’d fucking put it together.

After a minute, he comes back into the living room with two cups of water, and you thank him absentmindedly, barely even glancing at him before your eyes are back on your show. He lets out a long exhale as he lowers onto the couch beside you, extremely grateful that you hadn’t caught on.

He knows he’d be able to come up with a plan, but he’s extremely happy that he doesn’t have to now. He’s enjoying his time with his sweet girl, and he doesn’t want to cut it short by using one of her own knives to shut her up. The thought does make his dick twitch though, and he grips his fork tighter as he pictures it.

When you’ve both finished your dinner, he pulls your legs onto his lap, patting the top of your thigh gently as he gives you a soft smile. You feel the heat rushing up your neck as you feel his fingers grazing your inner thigh, but you smile back at him anyway.

“Thank you for being here.” you say in a quiet voice after a little while. He looks over to see you laying back on the couch, legs still over his lap, and fighting hard to keep your eyes open. He chuckles softly, and he can’t resist the urge to reach a hand over and cup your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin gently. 

He smirks when he sees you lean into his touch, and he’s not sure what he likes more; your eyes full of terror, or you looking so soft and safe with him here.

“You don’t have to thank me. We told you we’d protect you, and that’s what we’re gonna do.” he tells you, his voice slightly rough even though it’s full of care. You smile, and your eyes finally close as you rest your head completely on the backrest of the couch.

“I’m losing you here, honey. You should go to sleep.” he teases quietly, hand still caressing your cheek. You smile, although your eyes are still closed, and nod, mumbling a soft “okay” before you stand up slowly. 

He helps you get to your bedroom, then when you’re happily tucked into bed, he turns off your light and goes back to your living room. He takes your dishes to the kitchen and cleans up the mess, moving silently as he tries to distract himself from your plush body in the next room.

He groans softly when he goes to check on you an hour later, and if he didn’t already have a plan, he’d call Buck and tell him to come over right now so they can have their way with you.

He knows they can’t, though. He told you earlier that he was going to spend the night, and if the two masked men snuck into your apartment while Eddie was supposed to be there, he knows that you would either never trust them again, or you’d figure them out, or both.

So, he goes back to your living room and makes himself comfortable as he lays on your couch. If it were up to him, he’d be in bed with you, arms wrapped firmly around your soft middle. He knows he can’t, though; he doesn’t want to move too quickly.

As if someone decided to answer his prayers, he hears your frantic voice from the other room, calling his name.

He’s in your room in an instant, sitting beside you on the bed as he cups your cheek and rubs his thumb across your skin again, shushing you softly. He tries to act concerned as he takes in your tear-stained face, but he loves the sight, and when you ask him in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard if he’ll stay with you, he smirks.

He lays beside you, getting under your blankets and wrapping a large arm around your waist, pulling his chest flush against your back. When he’s sure you’re asleep, he whispers in your ear in a gruff voice.

“Good night, sweet girl.”

The next morning, your bed is cold, and when you sit up, you see the note on your bedside table. If it weren’t there, you’d assume you dreamed the entire night. Eddie’s always so sweet, of course, but he was so good to you last night. You feel a little embarrassed about asking him to sleep with you, but after the dream you had of the men terrorizing you, you certainly don’t blame yourself.

You feel a little more on edge this morning, though, even though Eddie’s note told you that Buck would be coming by later in the afternoon to keep you company. Last night, you could barely tell what was a dream and what wasn’t. You swear that as you were about to fall back asleep, you could hear the men’s voices, and the name they call you, although you know it couldn’t be. Eddie was right there.

You feel like your dreams are bleeding into your real life, and for the rest of the day, even after Buck comes over, you feel a little extra jumpy. Buck hardly notices though. He’s so excited to have you taste test his improved brownie recipe that he doesn’t notice the way you jump when he drops his phone right in front of you.

Almost a week later, you’re at Buck’s apartment. It’s almost sunset, and you’re still sleepy from staying up so late. You’re still in your pajamas, and your eyes feel heavy with sleep as you lounge around his place.

You worked the night before, an earlier shift than the closing ones you’re used to, and when Buck got you back to his apartment, he insisted on having a “sleepover,” as if that wasn’t what you’ve been doing for the last few weeks. When you got to his house, he made you shower and change into pajamas, and when you went down to his living room, he had popcorn, chocolate, chips, and sour candies spread across the coffee table. 

Your heart had swelled at the sight of him looking so proud of himself, and you couldn’t help snuggling up to him when you sat on the blanket-covered couch beside him. Your head stayed in place on his shoulder the entire night, and by the end of the first movie, his hand had made itself firmly at home on your thigh.

You both stayed up until almost 5am, and when you woke up the next day, well into the afternoon, his head was laying back at an awkward angle on the couch and your head was resting in his lap. 

Now, you’re sitting at his kitchen table, one leg crossed under the other as you text Tara, laughing silently about how her closing shift went with the new guy that was nice, as it turned out, but extremely stupid.

“Oh, before I forget; did I leave my sweater here a few days ago? The blue one?” you ask Buck after a few minutes, tearing your eyes away from your phone and looking over to him making dinner.

“Uh, yeah. It’s in my closet. I washed it for you. You got pasta sauce on it.” he tells you, turning and giving you a fake disappointed look as he says the last sentence. You roll your eyes, laughing softly as you stand up from the table.

“Well, thank you.” you begin in a sarcastic tone, “I’m gonna go grab it.” 

Before he has a chance to respond, you’re dragging yourself up to his loft, still feeling a little groggy from staying up so late and sleeping through half of the day.

When you pull open his closet doors, you don’t see your sweater anywhere. Since you don’t want to distract Buck from dinner, you begin to move the clothes around, hoping that maybe your sweater had just fallen off a hanger or is hidden under some of his shirts that are hanging up.

You’re halfway into his closet now as you get on your knees, moving the various articles of clothing on the hardwood floor when you see a sliver of a very familiar mask. Your stomach drops as the shirt you’re holding finally moves away from the mask completely, and you drop the shirt as you kneel there, frozen.

It has to be a coincidence, you think. It can’t be Buck; he’s Buck. 

Buck continues to absentmindedly get dinner ready as you go upstairs, and not even a minute later his eyes widen as he remembers what’s shoved in the back of his closet. His grip tightens on the knife he’s holding as he darts towards the stairs, taking them two at a time as he races to his room.

You whip your head around when you hear him coming up the stairs and get up quickly, but not before Buck gets a perfect peek of you kneeling down from behind, your ass on display for his eager eyes.

Buck can see the uncertainty in your eyes as you stand up, and he knows you’ve found the mask. He takes a step closer, and his eyes darken as he sees you take a step back, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat as he takes in your sheepish demeanour. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that, sweet girl.” he growls as he takes another step closer. He knows he should play dumb, should make up a harmless story about it; it’s what Eddie would do, but he can’t help it. The look in your eyes is so close to fear, and it only makes him push further.

Tears form in your eyes when the realization hits you. The other night when Eddie was over, it wasn’t you dreaming. He had been the one to say it. You can see the predatory look in Buck’s eyes as he stalks towards you, and although you try to move away from the closet and further away from him, he’s still blocking the staircase. 

You let out a soft whimper as your back hits the wall behind you, your whole body shaking as you watch him cross the distance between you. 

When he finally gets to you, you have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes, your lip quivering as you speak.

“No. It can’t be you.” He smirks, his empty hand coming up to rest against the wall beside your head as the one with the knife slowly drags the blade across your neck and down towards your chest.

“It is, baby. Surprised?” he purrs, then leans down towards the crook of your neck as he inhales your scent. You shudder, turning your face away from his as tears fall from your eyes, and he chuckles again. The sound of his dark laugh makes your blood run cold, and in a split second, you’re darting around his large frame and trying to run for the staircase. 

You need to get out of here. Now.

He grabs the back of your shirt before you can get far, however, and you yelp loudly as you’re pulled back against his hard body. You thrash against him, your frightened whimpers echoing through his apartment, but as soon as the knife moves up to your cheek, the sounds die on your lips. 

“There we go, sweet girl. We’re not gonna hurt you. Not if you’re good for us.” he whispers in your ear, his other arm firmly around your plush middle. Your legs almost give out as you realize that you’re not getting out of his strong grip, and even if you do, you’re sure he isn’t planning on merely scaring you with that knife.

“Then take the knife off my neck.” you try to say sternly, but your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. He nibbles on your ear, a smile making its way onto his face.

“If I do, will you run?” he asks in an almost cocky tone. You shake your head quickly, and he smirks, lowering the knife from your neck hesitantly.

“You promise you’re gonna be good for me?” he asks, his breath tickling your ear and making you shiver.

“Yes.” is all you say; it’s all you can force yourself to say. You’re sure that if it wasn’t for his strong body behind yours, your legs wouldn’t be able to hold you up right now.

He throws the knife onto the bed a few feet away, then turns you in his grip, holding your hips firmly as he presses his body against yours.

You search his eyes for any signs of softness you’ve grown used to as he studies your face, but it’s long gone by now. His eyes are filled with lust, and he has a devilish smirk as he leans his head down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss.

You freeze as you feel his lips working against yours, and it’s not until he lets out a low moan that you finally kiss him back, brain cloudy as you give in to him. You know there’s no way out now, so you might as well go along with his actions.

You hate to admit, but he’s an amazing kisser, and you immediately know who the more eager kisser was between the two masked men when they were in your apartment. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your mouth as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and one of his hands moves up to your jaw to tilt your face further up into the kiss.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you like this?” he murmurs against your lips, and you moan again at his words. You can feel the guilt eating away at you as you feel the familiar feeling of desire in the pit of your tummy and the pool between your thighs, and you hate yourself for being so turned on by how desperately he’s kissing you.

He’s just so attractive, and he’s so eager to have his hands and lips on you that you can’t help the inappropriate thoughts filling your brain. 

“I knew when I saw you at work that I had to have you.” he mutters, pulling back just long enough to take in your tear-stained cheeks and heaving chest.

As he leans back in to place kisses on your neck, you suddenly snap out of it. He killed Grace. And Isaac. Right in front of you.

You continue to let him kiss you, however, and when his grip loosens on you for a split second, you’re pushing him away and racing towards the stairs again. His brain is so fogged over with his need for you, that it takes him a second to respond. He grabs the knife off the bed and follows you down the stairs, an angry expression on your face.

You make it all the way to the kitchen before he’s on you again, grabbing your hips and throwing you to the ground. You yelp in pain as you hit the ground, but roll over quickly, trying to fight him off you as he kneels down to straddle your hips. 

He dropped his knife in the struggle to pin you down, so when he’s finally over top of you, looking down with a devious smile, he has to improvise. 

You feel the air ripped from your lungs as his hands go to your throat, tightening more and more as he watches you struggle to breathe. You’re still thrashing in his grip, but he keeps his hold strong until your movements become slow and sloppy. 

As your eyes flutter closed and everything goes black, the last thing you see is him leaning down to whisper in your ear, and the last thing you hear is his rough voice saying “just let us take care of you, sweet girl.”

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[buckevantommy]

idk why everyone is saying the convo with eddie meant buck's plans with tommy didn't happen. they had their talk and then he went on his way. buck's mood had shifted, his mind elsewhere, but he still went to stay the night at tommy's. maybe they didn't have sex right away or at all; tommy noticed buck was distant and it didn't take much to get him to open up about the eddie/kim/shannon thing, and tommy was receptive and concerned (eddie is his friend too remember) and buck found his words and presence comforting because tommy just has that affect on him. buck decides he still wants to cook for the distraction and to get out of his head and enjoy their night together and he accepts tommy's assistance in the kitchen with a gentle kind of joy. tommy praises buck's cooking and buck preens and they settle in with a documentary and buck gets some amazing couch cuddles and soft hair and temple kisses with tommy's arms around him. buck is in factoid mode as they chat before bed and tommy doesn't just indulge him he's genuinely interested in buck's takes even when the subject matter wouldn't normally interest him and he's so fond and so gone on his boyfriend. and then either there's some more amazing snuggles or buck wanting to blow tommy and tommy counters with wanting to blow buck or jerk him off while kissing his neck so buck can continue talking and it's light-hearted and intimate and considerate and fun and exactly what buck needed. and when they're settled under the covers with legs entangled and buck's face tucked under tommy's chin feeling sated and safe and wanted and understood, he thanks tommy - for tonight, for everything - and tommy says of course and kisses his head again and buck snuggles closer and they drift off to sleep and... do you see??

[babygirl-diaz]

In Which Eddie Goes to Support Group

My version of last night's Buddie scene

Eddie: Thanks for doing this, baby Buck: Of course! Do you really think I’ll miss the opportunity to hang out with my favorite little guy? Chris: I’m not little anymore, Buck! Buck: You’ll always be little to me Eddie: Don’t get up to too much fun without me. Or I’ll feel left out Buck: Don’t worry, baby. We won’t have any fun without you. We’ll stick to the boring stuff like putting together a puzzle Eddie: That’s still too much fun. But don’t worry, I’ll be back from group before 9 Buck: Take your time. Group is important. We’ll wait up. Eddie: Love you both so much Buck: Yeah, yeah, we love ya too Eddie: Make sure he eats his veggies and doesn’t just fill up on popcorn Buck: I will. I’ve been taking care of him since he was 8, remember? Eddie: I was talking to Christopher Buck: I take it back. I hate you. And you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader requested by anon 18+

TW: somnophilia Working overtime hadn’t done you any favours except adding a few bucks to your bank account. The lousy wage didn’t really make up for the aches in your bones, the sluggish tiredness that took over you as soon as you came home. Your body hit the couch, your bed, the nearest soft surface and gave in each night, barely making it through dinner before your eyes were drooping. 

You’d barely seen your boyfriend, a sad ramification of trying to save some extra cash and Eddie had taken to either already being in your apartment when you got home, dinner made for you and warming in the oven, or slipping in after his own shifts, tucking a blanket over you when he found you asleep on the couch. 

But tonight, he found you in bed just past eight o’clock, your work uniform shedded by the foot of your bed, using one of his T-shirts as pyjamas. You’d clearly had an unsettled rest, the sheets shucked off and tangled by your feet, a pillow tossed to the floor and his shirt riding up your ribs. It put you on display for him, one leg hitched high on the mattress, lying on your tummy, a stripe of blue cotton between your thighs for him to see. 

He sucked in a breath, cock hardening under his jeans and he felt like a teenaged pervert despite seeing so much more of you over the course of your six year relationship. It was something you’d both spoken about before, both done before, each of you waking up to the other running their hands over soft skin, playing and rubbing and tugging until the other saw the bedroom come into focus just as they fell apart. 

Eddie wanted that. Eddie knew you needed that. It had been a little while since he’d heard you gasping his name. 

You didn’t stir as he shucked his jeans and shirt, his belt hitting the floor with a clatter, the mattress dipping as he slid into bed beside you. But at the feeling of his body along yours, your mumbled something, still in a deep sleep, cheek squished to your pillow, one leg stretching out in search of the heat of his skin. Eddie propped himself beside you on an elbow, one large hand skimming down your back, following the line of your spine, along the curve of your ass. He did that again and again, the shape of you a navy shadow in the dim light that came from the gap in the curtains. 

You shifted as he got lower, fingertips skating over bare skin, following the elastic edge of your underwear. He swore under his breath, lips parting in a silent gasp as he watched you arch under his touch, chasing him even in your sleep. The blue cotton briefs were anything but seductive, old and comfy with a tiny bow on the front that Eddie couldn’t see yet and they were almost too small, stretched high over your hips and clinging tight to your folds. 

Eddie was rock hard, trying his best not to shift his hips into the curve of your ass to gain some much needed friction but you were doing that for him, subtle, soft movements against the sheets that had his mind reeling. He’d missed you, too much. And apparently, you’d missed him as well. 

The boy watched your hands ball into fists against the pillow as he let his hand fall between your legs, cupping your pussy and marvelling at the warmth there, the dampness that already clung to the cotton. You let out a breath, ragged and smothered by the pillow but still, your eyes stayed shut. Eddie cooed, a soft sound, watching your pretty face for signs of life as he ran a finger up and down your folds, pushing firm enough that the fabric stuck to you, soaked through and making it too easy for him to find your clit, finger rubbing slow, sure circles. 

You woke up as he was peeling your underwear aside, cool air on your heated skin, ass arched out, searching for more as you came to. You gasped, the noise tailing off into a moan as Eddie sunk one thick finger into you and you could feel his smile as he leant into to nose at your cheek, dotting kisses over your flushed skin. You felt heavy and light all at once, the feeling dizzying, the idea that he’d been paying so much attention to you even when you didn’t know made your heart thunder, the hook in your stomach pulling taught at how hot it all was. 

“Eddie,” you sounded hoarse, thick with sleep and want, trying to move from your position to clamber over him but Eddie tutted and pushed on the small of your back, keeping you where he had you.  “Ah, ah, pretty girl,” he murmured, crawling over you instead. His finger was still curled into you, a slow nudge against that spot, over and over. He shifted until he was between your spread legs, out of sight behind you, your head still in the pillow. You felt him closer, hovering over you and a line of spit hit your ass, slipping wet and warm down into your folds just before he kissed you, just below your clit. “Lemme take care of you, huh?”

[matan4il]

Buddie 612 meta

I don’t think we’ve had this much fodder with such few scenes in a long time, and I am LIVING!

Okay, so first of all I have to mention the parallel between 217, when the team was coming in, one by one, to see the suspended Bobby, and this ep, with everyone dropping by one at a time to be there for the recovering Buck. The similarity is of course in the found family connection. In both cases we see the importance of the absent member of the team through these visits. The difference is in the way the team came to Bobby because they need him to be there for them as their captain and friend even when he’s not on the job. But in Buck’s case, they don’t need anything. They’re coming by because they want to be there for him when he needs his team members and friends. Buck’s parents needed a reason to love him. Buck’s found family in this ep is loving him anyway. ~~

I’m gonna scream about the couch in a second, but I have to admit that while I was watching the ep, the moment that REALLY had my eyes shoot wide open and my breaths go into hyperventilation is when Maddie reads the note saying Buck has gone out. Because as soon as it was made clear Buck had chosen to escape his apartment and all of his visitors, I knew where he was headed. First off, the very fact that everyone else came to him, while Eddie was the one person Buck chose to go to already had me biting my fists. Once more, like in so many other cases (for example, when the lightning hit and Eddie was filmed differently to everyone else in the 118, or the way he was the only absent person in Buck’s dream and the only one Buck remembered without needing a physical object to jog his memory), Eddie is singled out as having a unique space in Buck’s life that no one else occupies. And of course there is this domestic quality and element of choosing each other as we see them repeatedly opening the door for and to get to the other one. ~~

But just think of the meaning! This man puppy, who only ever wanted to be loved and who’s being showered with attention and care, is absolutely restless because he’s having a hard time and feels like he has to pretend with the people he loves the most, and therefore he’s failing to fall asleep on his own couch. He seeks comfort in a connection that’s even deeper than the people who have been to see him, where he can really be himself without pretense. And that’s what’s insane, because he was visited among others by Maddie and Hen, his loving blood and adoptive big sisters. NO ONE can claim that his r/s with them is anything other than deep, and yet when he needed something more, when he needed an escape, when he needed a place where he could simply rest and be himself, he went to Eddie’s. This isn’t just Buck standing in Eddie’s kitchen declaring, “I’m not really a guest” in 311. This is him being more of a guest in his own apartment than in Eddie’s house. This is him being home and safe and able to JUST BE in Eddie’s space.

This is Buck beginning his healing by sleeping on the SAME couch where Eddie did in 514, connecting their healing in a parallel that is going to make me tear my own hair out. Which actually connects us back to 407, when Buddie talk about Buck’s need for his loft to be his safe space. Now it’s canon that this desired safe space is Eddie’s home, and I will chew through every piece of glass out there before I calm down from this. Once again, there are opposite sex canon couples on TV who never get this level of soulmate development! ~~

Oh, I also found it very interesting that Buck tells Maddie about his list he goes through every time he wakes up, to make sure he’s not in the coma world. We didn’t see him going through those steps when he woke up on Eddie’s couch. Remember how I said Eddie had to be absent in the dream world or Buck might not have made it out of there? Well, this ep adds to that. By virtue of being the only one who’s fully absent, it means Eddie is the one person whose very presence is a cue for Buck that he’s in the real world and safe, the only one who, by simply being there, negates the need for a list. I AM MELTING. (my gif, please excuse the awfulness) ~~

Speaking of soulmates bonding, I have to point out the opposite sex soulmates we do have in this very ep. Bobby confesses that Athena is it for him because she makes him feel like he’s standing on solid ground, she helps him be himself by finding again a piece of him.

We also see her becoming a part of his healing process when he allows her to come to his AA meeting. This is exactly what we see Buddie going through in 612! Eddie is Buck’s solid ground, the person he can count on and who can provide him with rest (that’s what solid ground represents), who allows him to simply be himself, and Eddie is also a part of the healing process that Buck allows him into by seeking out Eddie, and by opening up to him when Eddie asks him to, after finally getting some rest on the couch... ~~

That brings me to the couch because that in itself is just... Wow, this show really hates my nails and wants me to chew on them fully, I see how it is. Let’s not forget for how long the couch metaphor has been with us! Once Taylor and Buck discussed their couches situation when she was moving in with him in 513, and it was clear there was an incompatibility issue because she was bringing in a couch while he already had one (meaning they had already failed to communicate about this pretty basic point), it was clear they’d have to choose only one and dispose of the other. Very tellingly Taylor doesn’t really leave room for choice, so Buck (who only asked her to move in out of guilt) gave up his for hers. That’s the start of the couch being a metaphor for his romantic relationships, and I can’t believe it started a whole season before this ep! And then when Taylor moved out in 518, he was left with none? But that wasn’t unhinged enough for our show, so they brought it into an even greater focus with the lasagna scene in 601, when it was made even clearer that the “right couch” for Buck is about his romantic partner, that he’s aware of that significance, and that he admitted to it IN EDDIE’S PRESENCE. I can’t believe Buck fell asleep like that on Eddie’s couch, when they BOTH KNOW what the couch means. This is the most naked two men have ever been with each other on a TV show without taking their clothes off! Then Buck’s parents get him a couch he doesn’t want, one that’s all wrong for him, one he didn’t get to CHOOSE, so unsurprisingly he can’t sleep on it. That would have been a lot already, but then this ep turns around and SLAMS US IN THE FACE with Eddie’s couch being the right one for Buck to fall asleep on and to do so effortlessly! Two seconds on it, and Buck was out. That’s okay, 911, I just have to work a double shift while I’m sick today, I didn’t need to also have my sanity. You absolutely can have everything left of it. (my gif, please excuse it) ~~

I know it’ll sound dumb, but I was happy crying over the beers in Eddie’s fridge and the zoomed in shot we got of them. Look, it’s their thing, right? We’ve seen the two of them sipping on beers together in the iconic 309 kitchen scene (NGL, the oral sex scene in my Blue Against Blue fic was inspired by this), and it’s been a repeated theme, so when I saw Eddie had no less than 6 beers easily accessible in the top shelf of his fridge, chilling away, it screamed “This is my Buck stash” to me.

I will forever be a mess that Eddie Diaz, tough war veteran, actually has a supply of beers ready in his fridge for whenever soft man puppy Evan Buckley drops by unannounced. Can you imagine when Eddie goes grocery shopping and he probably smiles softly to himself when he buys his Buck beers? These two are so domestic and in love and equally soft about each other, it’s gross. And by gross I mean I love it, please gimme more. ~~

Oh, but the domesticity just keeps leveling up in this ep! Because then Buck wakes up and makes his way to the kitchen, where he just… lets Eddie take care of him by serving water. And it’s so tender and husbandy, and affectionate, and connects so perfectly to Eddie asking Buck to share with him. Because Buck wouldn’t let others fuss over him, but he lets his hubby take care of him. And he doesn’t tell others, even ones who are significant people in his life, where he’s really at, but he will share everything with Eddie. Not to mention that it doesn’t take much to get him to open up. All Eddie has to do is ask, and despite Buck’s initial announcement not to, he just goes right ahead and spills. I am inhaling and exhaling into the palms of my hands.

Of course, tucked in there is also Buck asking Eddie about the shooting. We all remember Buddie holding eye contact through that and Eddie reaching out to him, right? Or everything that transpired between them in the ambulance, all of it so romantically coded... This scene tells us that Eddie doesn’t remember those bits. I find it interesting to consider that maybe Eddie really doesn’t. That maybe the reason he hasn’t figured out yet how he feels for Buck is because he blanked out on the way he turned to Buck during the most intense moments of his life, and the ones he thought were his last. ~~

I mentioned during the hiatus in replies to asks I got that I suspected just like the distance between Buddie in 5a served to bring them closer together in 5b as Buck helped Eddie with his healing, the same structure was being followed in s6, just in the reverse, where Eddie will eventually help Buck. You can’t imagine how deep and meaningful I find it, that the show has actually structured these two seasons as counter paralleling each other, and showing Buddie as being a vital part of this mutual healing, so I tried to demonstrate that with this gifset. ~~

Last one! The cardiologist. Look, I already mentioned in my previous weekly meta that the heart theme started with Eddie, and then it was expanded to Buck. I find it insane that the show really hammered it home by having the same cardiologist be the doctor for both men, and that while she’s at it, she hints to both that their issues are not purely physical. How long before the metaphor-loving Buck catches on? IDK, but every single choice about this ep feels incredibly deliberate, when so much is condensed into so few scenes.

(my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ I can’t explain how much I’m asking of the amazing @whosoldherout​ for the gif requests, and the results are always so stunning, I’m deeply grateful!

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m sick and took three different medications to be semi-functional, so I really hope you’ll like this. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you did! xoxox

[imfinereallyy]

Shared Kisses

for @steddie-week I’m behind on it but I couldn’t resist day 3, and it’s a little late because I fell asleep while writing it, that's how sleep deprived I am haha. prompt: first kiss

“Okay, okay! It's my turn now. Sir Steven, Lady Birdie, tell me, who was your first kiss?” Eddie giggles from his spot on the carpet. He smells like stale menthols and pine; Steve can’t get enough of it. He has to resist from leaning his head into Eddie and taking a breath of him.

Steve is starting to believe he needs his head checked. Again. Wanting to smell one of his friend's necks isn't normal.

Steve is also starting to realize that maybe that is because he wants to be more than friends. God, he is such a loser sometimes.

“Oh, this is unfair! You know the rules state that we can’t ask it back now. Boooo.” Robin chants from her place on the couch, where she hangs upside down. Steve is for once glad they aren’t playing a drinking game; he is sure Robin would have vomited by now otherwise.

“I still think this a weird game to be playing.” Steve dodges the question and nudges Eddie with his knee.

“C’mon Harrington, questions is an absolute solid getting-to-know-you game.” Eddie nudged his knee back.

“Dude we’ve been friends for six months.”

“Yes but there are so many layers I have yet to peel.”

Robin grunts from her upside-down position, Steve can tell all the blood has finally rushed to her head, and she tumbles onto the ground next to them. “Gotta agree with Metal Man here, Steve-o. I’ve known you even longer, and I still don’t know everything. And we are practically connected.

Steve blows air from his lips, “So this is just a ploy to expose all my secrets.”

Steve can tell that Robin, who might as well share a soul with him at this point, can sense how uncomfortable he is beginning to feel. Her teasing softens for a moment. “What if I went first, yeah?”

Steve pauses, “Yeah okay.”

“You got to promise not to make fun of me.”

“Of course, Robs.”

“I make no such promises.” Eddie interrupts but ultimately cuts the tension in the room. Steve kind of feels like it is on purpose, by the way his eyes skim Steve carefully, and the way Robin lets out a loud snort.

“Wasn’t talking to you doofus. I don’t actually respect your opinion of me.”

“Hey!” Eddie protests, but they all know he isn’t really offended.

Robin chuckles lightly, but continues. “It was in middle school, at one of my first girl-boy parties; gross, right? I hate that we called it those. Anyway. They decide to play spin the bottle, and I feel pressure because my only friend at the time is Barb, and she didn’t come and Colleen Walsh is doing it, and she—well, she’s the prettiest, most popular girl in school at the time and I’d be an idiot not to follow along. So we’re playing Spin the Bottle, right? And rounds go by, and it doesn’t land on me, and I’m grateful but Colleen notices. She goads me on to do it, take a spin since it isn’t fair I haven’t kissed anyone. So, wanting to get over being the center of attention, I reach over and spin it, and it lands on—“

“Wait.” Steve stops Robin, realizing she is about to out herself to Eddie on Steve’s behalf. He doesn’t want her to do that but on anything but her own terms. “Are you sure about this, Robs?”

Robin throws her head back and laughs, “Yea, I’m sure dingus. No need to worry. Anyway, you’ll never believe who it lands on.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, “C’mon buck don’t leave us hanging.”

“Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie and Steve both start choking on air while Steve screams, “What!?!”

Eddie collapses on the ground with a dramatic groan, covering his face with his hands and mumbling, “why cruel world?” Robin giggles at his antics.

“You’re telling me it wasn’t….?” Steve trails off, hoping Robin gets the hint.

“That it wasn’t a girl? No dingus, just because I’m a lesbian doesn’t mean all my experiences are with women. Besides, I was 12; I didn’t realize staring at Colleen’s boobs wasn’t jealousy.”

“Oh, thank god, you know; I thought I was going to have to break the news to you that your gayer than the men’s locker room after a winning game,” Eddie mumbles behind his hands still on the ground.

“Only you would make a sports reference in relation to gayness, Eds. Also, wait, you knew she was lesbian? How did you know? Why are you freaking out then?” Steve rapid fires questions.

Still covered with his hands, “Like seeks like, Harrington. It’s like a sixth sense.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry, “You’re gay?” He says hopefully.

Eddie finally removes his hands from his face but doesn’t sit up. “Yea, Stevie, thought you knew, honestly. Not like it’s a secret, all of Hawkins talks about it.”

“I try not to listen to the rumor mill.”

A soft smile graces Eddie’s face, “One of the many things I love about you sweetheart.”

Steve tries not to blush, but ultimately fails. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re freaking out about Tommy. Sure, he sucks, but like I reacted that way cause I was friends with him at some point. What’s you’re excuse?”

Finally Eddie sits up with a groan. “Okay, promise not to laugh or freak out?”

Robin and Steve both nod and mumble a little “yea of course”.

Eddie rubs a hand down his face, “Okay, I freaked out because even though it’s not my turn to answer and I don’t have to, well—it’s because. Okay, I’m stalling; it’s because Tommy Hagan was also my first kiss. When I was 15, under the bleachers.”

Robin and Steve are both silent, Eddie looks at them expectantly. “Are you guys going to say anything?”

Robin speaks up first, “I think this is the closest we can get to not freaking out.”

“I think I would prefer that over the freaky twin silence.”

Steve still stays quiet while Robin proceeds to react, “Oh my god Munson! This is the funniest and freakiest thing ever. And not in a freak way you like! This is magnificent, oh my god….” Robin continues to cackle and make fun of Eddie, but Steve tunes it out. He can feel all the blood rush to his ears, blocking out all the sound from the room. Tommy. Tommy. He has kissed both of his best friends, one of which he wants to kiss himself. That just seems unfair to Steve. It hurts Steve, and he doesn’t know why. Actually, he knows precisely why.

“My first kiss was when I was 13,” Steve says abruptly, not making eye contact. The both of them stop their bickering and turn to Steve. They stay silent, as if they know Steve needs it to get through it. He is thankful for them both.

“I was 13, and my parents weren’t home. It had become the usual at this point, but I was sad because it was my birthday, and this was the first birthday they didn’t even send a card. And Tommy decided to come over to cheer me up; this was back, I guess, when he still cared too. And we didn’t do much; I didn’t like to make a big fuss about my birthday even then, but it was a nice night out just before the break of summer. So we decided to stargaze on the roof. And I don’t know how it happened, but one second we’re trying to find the Little Dipper, and the next, Tommy is kissing me. It was nice, honestly. To have someone you care about show you affection. And when he pulled away, I smiled at him, but he just stared. And then—“ Steve swallows thickly before looking up at Eddie and Robin, who both look at him with rapt attention.

“Then his face turns angry, and he punches me. He punches me so hard that I almost fall off the roof. He tells me not to be a queer, and if I told anyone, who would tell everyone what I was. And it seemed unfair, right? Because he kissed me, I only smiled. I haven’t kissed a boy since.”

Suddenly there is an arm around his shoulder, “Stevie….” Eddie tucks Steve’s head into the crook of his neck, and Steve begins to sob.

Robin quietly gets up, “I’m going to make us some tea.” Steve knows she can sense that he needs a moment with Eddie. Steve loves her more than life.

“I’m sorry this is stupid. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

Eddie rubs soft circles on his back, “It’s not stupid, honey. He hurt you in more ways than one, and traumatized you from exploring yourself. You have every right to be upset. Thank you for telling us. You didn’t—you didn’t have to. You could have lied, or told us your first kiss with a girl.—“

“Colleen Walsh.” Steve interrupts into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie barks out a laugh, “Of course it was. Anyway, Steve, thank you for sharing. I’m glad you feel safe with us.”

Steve’s tears are no longer. “I always feel safe with you, Eds.” And the Steve finally does the thing he’s been wanting to do all night. He takes a big sniff of Eddie. Steve doesn’t care if it’s weird because he settles a sort of calm in him.

Eddie grips his waist tight, and puts a finger under Steve’s chin, pulling his face close to his own. “Yea, I do? Does that mean you also trust me?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his lips. He knows it’s probably not good how quickly his mood has changed, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The air between them is electric, and intense. Steve can feel it make his whole body come alive. “Of course I do.”

Eddie leans even closer, “Good. Because I think it’s a damn shame a pretty boy like you hasn’t kissed another boy since.” Then Eddie presses their lips together.

Steve isn’t sure if someone were to ask what his first kiss with Eddie was like if he would be able to answer. It’s indescribable; it’s perfect. But if he is to try, it would be this, soft, slow, deep, and oh so very good. Steve can feel the heat from Eddie’s lips pulsing into his own. Eddie’s hands' grip Steve’s face, angling him deeper as he slides his tongue into his mouth. Steve pulls him closer by his t-shirt. Going crazy off the taste of salt and chocolate that now swipes his tongue.

They both pull back a little breathlessly, hands still gripping each other. They lean their foreheads together, and Steve smiles. He smiles so big his face hurts. And Eddie does the most thing in return,

He smiles back.

The moment is broken, though, when Robin enters the room again with a bowl of popcorn and a loud “Oh thank god, I was sick of the pining. From both of you.”

Eddie sputters while Steve just laughs at her. “I thought you were making tea Birdie?”

Robin sits down next to them again, “Too much work and I was snacky.”

Steve throws popcorn at her head but isn’t upset at all. He leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head.

Robin smiles fondly at them. Then her face scrunches up in pain, “Wait, all of our first kisses was Tommy Hagan?”

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately so.”

“God I do not want to give that twerp any more credit in life than I have to. Why are we all like this?”

Steve giggles while Eddie shrugs.

Robin can’t keep a straight face anymore and falls into laughter. “Wait, does this mean we are all bounded by this? I completely unrelated, non-upside down experience?”

Eddie speaks up before Steve, “I believe so, Lady Buckley. A trauma outside of other worlds binds us. We have been bound since before the slain of Vecna.”

Robin shrieks, “Awee, guys! We were always meant to meet then.”

Then Robin tackles the both of them to the ground in a bear hug. Steve’s not even mad that she’s in the middle of Eddie and him.

Because this, right here, is all the love he’ll ever need.

***

I'm behind on steddie week, but I want to throw my hat in the ring. Have a written a first kiss thing before? Yes I have. But I can’t resist. Thank for the read, love this community so much.

[tedious-waffle]

I swear the media literacy… saw ppl arguing this ep shows bucktommy not fitting together/ tommy’s separation from buck

“Tommy doesn’t support buck’s research binge” a) he literally listens, but also its fucking night time and buck needs to Rest after being Injured. Like hate a guy for being sleepy lmao. And b) BUCK IS SPIRALING ofc hes not like ooh yeah buck you ARE cursed and going to die! Like bruh. Also obligatory: hm you sure don’t have issue with Eddie doing the same thing…

“Tommy is sleeping on the couch not with buck in his bed” 😑 and if he did sleep in his bed you would say that that was bad too. Like bruh so theyre not at the sharing a bed stage whatever. Also just for scene composition, easier to have that morning after with buck in the same position but now with boils without tommy noticing be shot in the living room lol

*correction per @reads8hoursperday: “Buck has to sleep sitting up in that chair because of his shoulder.” Good point! Makes sense why Tommy just brought him a new icepack and then fluffed his pillow

“Eddie fixes up and reassures buck not tommy” EDDIE IS A MEDIC. Tommy isntttt. Also eddie razzed him just as hard lmfao. Also tommy literally IS reassuring him???

“Tommy isn’t in the group chat” YEAH DUH. ITS THE 118 GROUP CHAT. (And again if he was you’d complain about that lmao) Again theyve not been dating that long, tommy works at another station. Of course hes not in the group chat lmao. ALSO, from a TV writing standpoint, that scene works a lot better if not everyone in the scene gets the text and one person instead asks Out Loud what’s up, so it can be read out to the Audience as well.

“In the cemetery scene, tommy is standing sooo far away from buck.” Like idk even what to say man. That just a normal ass scene. Literally playing off of Every scene like it. The supportive partner/friend is always standing off to the side like that. And its buck’s moment. + uh you sure are ignoring the literal dialogue of that scene and the camera pans huh

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

It hurts to feel, to think, to know I may be nothing

(a kind of fix-it for 8x06)

The knocking on his door is insistent, almost angry. 

Tommy looks at the alarm clock next to his bed. The glowing digits, the only and quite pale light in the room, show 2:45 am. Who would knock on his door at this hour? There's this little tiny heart stumble that gives him a name in response, which he immediately suppresses. Tommy, who is lying on his bed fully dressed and can't sleep anyway, just hopes it's not him. Not … Buck. He couldn't bear that, not now. No pleading from those Bambi eyes, no broken voice with a stutter worse than ever. He wouldn't be able to look at the man and think of him as detached as he had called him when he left, he wouldn't be able to see anything other than Evan, and that would be wrong. Tommy weighed this thought back and forth in his head, trying to make it somehow more correct. 

The knocking is still energetic, it just won't stop. Tommy sighs. He considers just lying there, playing dead and staring at the ceiling until whoever is at the door leaves. But if it's Evan, if it really is him, then he can be trusted to knock all night. Or to try to break down the door. Although... No, he wouldn't do that. Unless he was drunk. Tommy remembers the story of when the Bachelor party got out of hand and a door was kicked in. His thoughts go round in circles, and he sighs again. It sounds theatrical in his empty bedroom, but that's the way it is. He slowly gets up, swings his legs out of bed and shuffles to the door. 

This little stab in his heart, which is not relief but disappointment, is pathetic. It’s not Evan, of course not.

It’s Eddie.

Definitely, the first thing Evan would do is go to Eddie. Then, probably in the early morning, to Bobby. Or to his sister. Heck, he’ll see all his friends because he can; and that thought somehow hurts even more. Tommy isn't afraid that Evan will make him look like a bad guy. He has every right to grieve and seek comfort. It's just that he can. From whom does Tommy find comfort?

In any case, Eddie, who looks a little disheveled and a little drunk with his red cheeks, doesn't exactly appear like someone who wants to console him. 

“Have you checked the time?” Tommy asks gruffly. 

“I did, but have you checked your brain?”

Eddie taps him on the forehead with two fingers, then pushes past him without being asked, casually dropping onto the couch in the living room. 

“This isn't the best time, Eddie,” Tommy says wearily. Yes, he is tired, even if he can't sleep. 

“Might be. But that's what this is all about, isn't it?”

That hurts, and Tommy feels anger building behind his forehead, which will be a decent headache in a few hours. Unshed tears, that's how Abby used to call it. Abby, with whom everything began and somehow everything ended. All the shame and anger about himself make Tommy's muscles tense. 

“Don't think you’d understand.”

Tommy stands there with his arms crossed, defensive, as he has been all his life, but Eddie is not impressed. Of course not, why would he. Eddie has told him stories of Afghanistan and the dirt he's been through. One man’s defensive attitude hardly impresses him. 

“Why not?”

“Because you've never been in that situation, quite simply.”

“Oh, so you want to use my non-existent queer experience against me, do you? Shallow.”

Tommy lets out a long breath and growls, “What exactly do you want, Eddie?”

“I want to know why.”

A simple sentence, a simple statement, but Tommy feels like he's been deflated. He searches for words, but they are hard to find.

“Listen,” he finally says, ”I know you're here as E… as Buck’s friend. That’s sweet, but…”

“That's true,” Eddie replies surprisingly soberly, ”but I'm also here as your friend. Sometimes we need our people to tell us we're being silly.”

Of course, he speaks from experience. That's kind of the point, and now it's bursting out of Tommy. 

“I managed well on my own for years,” he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “I've been through it all, the self-denial, the shame, the half-hearted relationships. Evan will never have to experience that, and I'm grateful for that. But still... this guy just stumbled into my life, no, rather rolled through it like a steamroller.”

"He broke your barriers," Eddie interrupts him. 

Tommy gives him a look. Eddie actually understands. Why is he so surprised? Tommy doesn't give away his friendship lightly, and Eddie is more profound than he pretends to be. Or even than his friends sometimes think. Which, by the way, is also true of Evan, which is where he starts chasing his own tail, right?

“He did. And he comes with a lot of luggage.”

“Oh yes,” Eddie laughs. Then, he narrows his eyes, watching Tommy intently. “Wait, you don’t  mean his past and all?”

Tommy drops into the armchair opposite the sofa and shakes his head. 

“We... actually didn't really talk much about the past. It was more like...”

“The heat of the moment?”

Tommy doesn’t have to ponder about that, because it’s true. Every new relationship is like this, everything is exciting and full of icing. You don't use the time you have with questions. They didn't have much time, that's the curse of shift work and a life as a first responder. 

“Suddenly, half a year has passed,” he says with wonder. “And then he says he wants to move in with me.”

“Were you afraid of the next step?”

The way Eddie phrases this question tells him that Evan hasn't fully understood what happened. He's sorry for that, but he's sorry for so much, it's just more grief on top of a big pile of sorrow. 

“I'm just afraid of losing my heart,” Tommy returns, and strangely enough, Eddie laughs again.

“Do you think that's funny?”

Eddie raises his hands defensively, “What I actually find funny is that you lost your heart a long time ago, Tommy. You left the man standing outside the restaurant and gave him a second chance anyway. You’re the first contact in his phone. You're the one with the ice packs, the one who buried his stupid curse with him.”

“You would have done all that too.”

“Sure, except for the part about the funeral maybe, but only because Buck and I are on terms where you can tell your friend that he's being stupid. You, on the other hand... you have heart eyes when you see him. You stroke his hand in passing, you hold back on the kisses when anybody is around only to protect him.”

“You noticed that?”

“I noticed a few things,” says Eddie. “Especially that Buck feels the same way about you. There comes a point in every relationship when you take off your rose-tinted glasses. The only mistake you've made is convincing yourself that this will end anyway.”

“But it will,” Tommy replies dispassionately. 

“Because you're his first? That's stupid, Tommy.”

“What would you know about it?” Tommy replies heatedly.

Eddie tilts his head, “Didn't you listen when I told you about Shannon? I married my first love. I know what you're thinking, of course, it didn't end well, yada yada. But it wasn't because we didn't love each other, Tommy. We were very young and very stupid, and it hurts me to see two grown men like you, who also love each other very much, behaving so stupidly.”

Tommy sinks down in his chair.

“He acts impulsively,” he interjects. “He doesn't know what he's getting himself into, and in the end, when he understands that he needs more, he'll leave. And that will hurt a lot more.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says and stands up. As unasked as he came in, he steps up to Tommy's fridge and rummages through it for a can of beer. Then he points it at Tommy and says, “But not having loved will hurt more. Being too much of a coward hurts.”

“I'm not a coward.”

“Yes, you are, because you're running away from your own feelings. And not even giving Buck the chance to prove to you that he's worth brightening up your lonely life.”

“Now you sound like a guy in a soap opera,” Tommy says sourly.

“Nah, I sound like someone who has screwed up so much in his life that he should be the last person to give advice to others. But this is Buck we're talking about, and he's just a whining misery sleeping on my couch. And it’s about you, a friend I’m fond of.”

He takes a deep sip and grimaces.

“I think you've had enough for today,” says Tommy. 

“Guess you're right.”

Eddie gets up, and to his credit, it has to be noted that he doesn't sway. Or just a little bit. 

“Let me summarize the whole mess like this: you fucked up, Buck doesn't understand why, and honestly I don't quite get it either. But what I do understand is that you should work it out together. Tomorrow morning… no wait, in a couple of hours. Sleep, then come over, and bring breakfast.”

“I don't know if that's such a good idea.”

The worst part is that there is a certain hopefulness in Tommy's voice, it almost cracks. Evan hasn't done anything wrong, and it's probably only right that he at least tells him that. Even if it hurts. Because Eddie is actually right - it will hurt no matter what, and it's better to love than to grieve over a love that could never evolve. 

“But I do.”

There is so much confidence in Eddie's voice. Something has happened to him, and one day Tommy will ask him about it. Now he holds on to his own door and nods weakly.

“Let me sleep on it,” he says. 

Eddie winks at him as he leaves.

[talktonytome]

if someone asked me at the end

bucktommy ft breaking up & making up + presumed dead

Buck knows he’s straight up wallowing, but he can’t muster an ounce of energy to do anything else. Eddie’s probably a day away from dragging him out, like he did when Buck couldn’t be at work, after his leg accident. He’s lying on the couch, tracing mindless patterns on one of the throw pillows, as a documentary plays on tv. He gave up watching it ten minutes in. He meant to watch it with Tommy.

He has his favorite Tommy hoodie on and he refuses to wash it, even though it’s been a week. He mostly sleeps with it, but he’s feeling especially sad today. Besides, the only stains that can be attributed are the tears he shed on it.

God, it had been such a senseless fight. In true Buck fashion, he can admit what he did was dangerous and reckless. Tommy hadn’t even begrudged him for doing his job. He only expressed concern about taking unnecessary risks and asked Buck to please take him into consideration, next time he thought about doing something so reckless.

In the heat of the moment, and very much in a fit of good old self sabotage, Buck turned venomous.

“I’m not sure you know me at all,” he’d spat at Tommy. “S-so maybe this is it for us.” He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth, but he stood frozen and watched in horror as Tommy’s heart shattered in real time. By the time he came back to his senses, Tommy had left with a sad and painful, “Okay, Evan.”

Buck isn’t totally clear if that counts as a break up, but it sure feels like one. He wants to reach out so badly, but he knows he hurt Tommy and he’s been trying to give him space.

He considers driving over to his place to talk it out, remembers how Tommy did that for him, right before he kissed him and upended his entire world. Fresh tears well at the memory.

He thinks maybe a good shower cry sounds like a solid idea, when his phone rings. He flips it over to see who’s calling and picks it up immediately when he sees it’s LA Gen. He’s memorized all the surrounding hospital numbers over the years, for obvious reasons, the 118 being frequent fliers being one of them.

“Hello?”

“Is this Evan Buckley?”

“Y- yes, that’s me,” his hearts races, but he tries to remain calm, bracing himself for the worst.

“This is Stacy, I’m a nurse at LA General, she explains calmly. “I’m calling about Thomas Kinard. You’re listed as his emergency contact and he-”

Suddenly, she’s cut off by the hospital intercom, distinctly alerting a code blue in the background. “Damn it, he’s coding again; grab the crash cart,” Stacy barks, her voice sounds far away from the phone- and that’s the last thing he hears before the call disconnects.

Tommy.

Buck is barely conscious of his actions, as he races to the hospital. He only stops long enough to shove his feet into mismatched slippers and nearly jerks his key holder from the wall, while frantically grabbing his car keys.

Aside from knowing all the hospital numbers, he’s also memorized the quickest routes to each one. Perks of being a firefighter, he thinks sarcastically. That, along with breaking a few traffic laws, lands him at LA Gen in record time.

He doesn’t remember and doesn’t care if he locked his car, by the time he’s stepping through the emergency room doors. For the first time since the phone call, he lets himself think, wondering what state Tommy’s in- if he’s alive. He has to be, he tells himself, like there simply cannot be another option.

He channels some of the sureness he’s grown into on the job, and tries not to shake too much as he walks to the information station, where a sweet-looking older lady is working. “Excuse me, I need to find my boyfriend’s room? A nurse, Stacy called me less than an hour ago a-and I think he coded. Please, I just need to see him,” he says as steady as he can.

The lady gives him a sympathetic nod and smiles at him. “Of course young man, what’s his name?”

“Thomas Kinard,” Buck supplies immediately.

“Hmm, yes, I see him in the system,” her eyes scan over the computer screen and Buck catches the moment her demeanor changes.

“Is everything okay?”

“Um, you know, this thing glitches sometimes,” she says nervously.

She’s stalling, and if she’s stalling then…

“Anyway, I’d better let Stacy update you. She’s at the nurse’s station on the third floor. I’ll call her and let her know you’re going up.”

She holds out a visitor pass and Buck takes it, nodding numbly. His body’s on autopilot as he reaches the elevator and rides up to the third floor. Luckily, the doors open right in front of the nurse’s station. A harried-looking middle-aged woman leans tiredly against the side and Buck guesses that must be Stacy.

His feet are heavy as he walks up to her and something in his expression must tip her off.

“You’re here for Thomas, right?”

Bucks nods weakly, palms sweating, dread sitting on his chest heavier than the fire truck had on his leg.

“I’m so sorry,” she starts.

“No. Don’t.”

“We did everything we could, but he coded twice and his heart was too weak to sustain the stress and damage.”

Buck grips the desk, like a life-line. It’s the only thing keeping him from crumbling to the ground. He feels like he’s under water, Stacy’s words drift further and further away.

“Sir,” Stacy grabs his shoulders gently. “Sir, breathe. Match my breaths,” she demonstrates long, deep breathes until Buck begins do to as she says. “That’s it, come on let’s sit down for a little while,” she guides them around the corner to sit on a bench by the first few hospital rooms on the left wing.

“Evan?”

Buck must be hallucinating, because Tommy, a very much alive-looking Tommy is standing in front of him. Maybe Buck went into shock and died.

But then Tommy’s coming closer into view, a bandage visible across his forehead and his face is flushed, which means blood’s coursing through his body, and that means…god, he’s alive??

“Evan, are you okay?” He asks in that deep, sure voice of his. Buck had missed it like a limb.

He hardly knows what he’s doing, before he’s launching himself into Tommy, body racking with sobs and gasping for breath, as he chants into his neck, “you’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive.”

“Hey, hey Evan,” breathe for me,” Tommy pleads softly. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m very much alive, I’m okay.” Buck sobs harder and Tommy holds him closer, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

“I- I thought you were dead! I got a call and then she said-”

Tommy frowns, “I don’t know what they told you, but it’s just a concussion. I actually told them not to call you,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, you’re listed as my emergency contact and they wouldn’t let me leave the hospital alone.”

“I’m so sorry to interrupt.” Buck only just remembers Stacy’s still there and he would be furious- Hell, he is furious, but the relief of finding out Tommy’s alive surmounts his anger. He doesn’t let go of Tommy, only turns his body enough to look at her.

Stacy’s face is sheet white and unshed tears line her eyes “I- I can’t even begin to apologize for this. Sharon called and she said Thomas Kincaid. That’s the patient who coded. I didn’t realize you were here for Mr. Kinard. The names are so similar and both on the same floor, of all the things,” she’s crying now. “We’re short-staffed and I had to run off while I was on the phone with you. I know that’s no excuse and I understand if you need to report this. Again, I’m so, so sorry.”

Buck does feel for her. He’s very aware of the staff shortages all over and how overwhelmed the hospital staff has been, especially the nurses. He’s not going to report this. He’s angry, but he knows it was a genuine mistake. He’s learned that doing things out of rage isn’t a good thing, and all that matters is that Tommy is here, alive.

“Look, I won’t pretend like I’m not angry, but… I understand,” he assures her. “I’m not reporting you to anyone, just please don’t let this happen to anyone else. It’s the shittiest feeling in the world,” he chokes out. “And, I’m not trying to be rude when I say this, but can you please leave us alone?”

“Thank you,” she says voice barely above a whisper, her shoulders slump; Buck’s sure she must be relieved. She nods curtly and takes her exit.

Buck instantly turns back to face Tommy, not allowing more than a couple inches of space between them.

“Oh god, Evan, you thought I died- they told you I died. Well, who they thought- I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that felt like.” Buck can’t believe Tommy’s the one apologizing, of all people.

“I’ve never been happier about a mistake,” Buck proclaims with a watery laugh, a ghost of a thing. “You’re alive, sweetheart, you’re alive,” he repeats, assuring himself that this is real.

“I’m alive,” Tommy confirms, leaning in the rest of the way in to rest the uninjured side of his head to Buck’s forehead. Because he does, in fact, know Buck so well. Buck knows Tommy knows he needed to hear that from him.

“Tommy, I- I’m so incredibly sorry about that stupid fight,” Buck pulls back to look Tommy in the eye. “I was obstinate and dumb and I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Evan,” Tommy breathes.

“Please, let me finish,” Buck begs. “I wanted to take it back, as soon as I said it. You do know me. You know me better than anyone and I lashed out unfairly. You didn’t deserve it. It’s all on me and my insecurities, a- and I’ve been a complete mess since that night. This doesn’t erase that, but I missed you and I love you, and I want to be with you i- if you still want me.” There, he manages to get it all out and can only hope Tommy won’t turn him away.

Tommy lifts a hand and gently cups the side of Buck’s face. “Evan,” he starts, “first of all, I missed you too, terribly; god only knows how much, and, I love you too.” He rubs a calloused thumb across Buck’s cheek. “I won’t lie, what you said that night hurt like nothing I’ve felt before. I didn’t want us to be over. Turns out the sound of a heart breaking isn’t very loud at all,” he says, voice small and pained.

“Tommy-”

“Your turn to let me finish. Please?”

Buck nods, kicking himself mentally for interrupting.

“We- things won’t work if we retreat and withhold and jab. You have to talk to me, when your insecurities trip you up. We take care of each other, okay?”

Hope takes root in Buck’s heart for the first time in a week. Tommy smiles at him, tentative, yet tender.

“We’ll definitely talk more about what happened,” Tommy promised, “but of course I still want you, I’ll always want you, Evan,” he vows.

“Oh god, I promise,” Buck nods as a few tears run down his face. Tommy delicately wipes them away. “I called a therapist and made an appointment the day after,” Buck confesses.

“Really?”

“Mhm. I want to work on my issues- for us, but also for myself,” Buck asserts. “You’ve helped me grow and have shown me what healthy communication looks like, but I know I can’t put it all on you.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Tommy beams at him. “I think that will be great for you and I’m here for you, always.”

“Thank you, Tommy.”

“Of course.”

Buck rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet; He’s itching to kiss Tommy, but doesn’t want to push it. The ball should be in Tommy’s court he decides.

Tommy scans his face and must find what he’s looking for, because next thing Buck knows, he’s using the hand on Buck’s jaw to bring him in for a sweet, passionate kiss.

Tommy’s lips are chapped, from the hospital air, no doubt, but they’re the best thing Buck has ever felt. He sinks into the feeling, as they re-familiarize themselves with every ebb and flow. They go on for seconds or minutes, he can’t be sure, but at some point they taper off into gentle nips, until they’re parting, and Tommy pulls him in completely flush against his body so they’re holding each other again.

“God, I really missed you,” Buck exhales softly. “Love you. So much.”

“Love you, too, Ev,” Tommy says into his shoulder. “Let’s go home?” He pulls back, reluctant to leave Buck’s arms, but settles for intertwining their hands.

Buck’s never been more deliriously, insanely grateful. He sends a silent thank you out into the universe.

“Yeah,” he brings their tangled hands up to kiss Tommy’s knuckles.

“Yeah, baby, let’s go home."