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

[apricustar]

a soft place to land <- read on ao3

Eddie wakes to the sound of metal clattering against tile and a sharp, muffled shit.

For a moment, he’s disoriented–held between sleep and true wakefulness; though, if he’s honest with himself, he hasn’t fully felt awake in weeks. There’s that thick, cottony feeling behind his eyes again–grief, sleep-deprivation, loss. It all blurs together now.

The bed’s warm on one side. Empty on the other.

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face. His eyes sting, dry and overused, and everything inside him feels sore. Like grief settled into his bones and made a home there. The kind of tiredness that rest doesn’t touch.

Another curse comes from the kitchen, and he exhales slowly, dragging himself upright. The house smells like cinnamon now–sweet, incongruous to the hour, to the weight in his chest, to the image of Bobby’s casket still etched behind his eyes every time he blinks.

Eddie moves toward the hallway on autopilot, every step tugging at muscles that haven’t relaxed in days. The kitchen light is on and Buck’s standing there in the glow of it–back turned, sleeves rolled up, curls loose and slightly frizzy, hair flattened on one side. He’s at the sink, one hand braced on the edge of the counter like it’s the only thing holding him up, the other hanging limp at his side. The pan he dropped sits in the basin, untouched, water running but forgotten.

His shoulders are bunched up in the same way they have been since Buck picked him up at LAX, still not relaxed despite being home. Eddie has allowed Buck his time, his space–but it’s hard. Hard not to reach out, not to ask, not to pry. He thought–hoped–maybe Buck would come to him, but if today has proven anything, it’s that Buck hasn’t allowed himself much of anything in the way of working through his own emotions about Bobby’s death.

Eddie has seen him swallow back every emotion the second it threatens to show. Has watched him nod through condolences, hug people with imperceptibly shaky hands, keep his voice even. But Eddie knows Buck.

He knows Buck glowing with joy, face crinkled and hands waving like his happiness is pouring out from him. He knows Buck soft, too: quiet and present, melted into Eddie’s couch with Chris under one arm, smile tucked into the corner of his mouth while he listens, like a secret meant only for the moment.

This is a Buck he has not fully glimpsed before; melon-balled and hollow. He’s not falling apart; he’s holding it all in, so tightly Eddie can practically hear the strain of it.

And maybe that’s what scares him the most.

Because Buck doesn’t know how to ask for help until he’s already bleeding, and even then, it’s hard won. But they–they are always caught in each other’s gravity. Eddie knows that truth, too. They’ve never needed to talk about it. It’s just there, stitched into every look, every step taken together, every moment where they show up for the other without asking.

Eddie has seen Buck in misery, in pain– his every emotion somehow tied and caught up in Eddie’s own, like their hearts are tuned to the same frequency. Buck’s smile pulls Eddie’s out of him before he even knows it’s coming. Their joy has always been shared. So of course the pain is, too. 

He thinks of Bobby now–of how fast it all happened; or how fast everyone says it happened. Bobby woke up that morning alive, went to work, and didn’t live to see another day. Eddie is still trying to forgive himself for not being there for any of it. Keeps wondering whether if he had, if there would’ve been some way for him to stop it. Can’t forgive himself for not being beside Buck when the world tilted off its axis, either.

But he’s here now.

And Buck–Buck is standing at the kitchen sink like something inside him’s come loose. 

I wasn’t there for Bobby, Eddie thinks, throat tight. But I can do something now.

Eddie moves, then, stepping in close, right hand hovering at the small of Buck’s back, left hand reaching past him, quietly shutting off the water.

Buck doesn’t move. Doesn’t look at him. Just keeps staring down at the pan in the sink like it might explain how he ended up here.

“I was going to wash that,” Buck says after a beat, voice thin.

“I know,” Eddie murmurs.

Gently, his right hand settles at the base of Buck’s spine, light and steady. Buck tenses under the touch, just for a second, then doesn’t move at all. Eddie doesn’t push, just waits, his thumb rubbing a soft, absent circle against the cotton of Buck’s sweatshirt.

“Buck,” Eddie says, “Can you turn around?”

There’s a pause–heavy, aching– and the world feels syrupy slow. Still, Buck doesn’t move. Eddie doesn’t take his hand away, waiting him out. It’s easy to be patient, when it's Buck.

Buck exhales shakily, like it’s being dragged out of him. And then, slowly, like it costs him something–Buck half turns, Eddie’s fingers landing somewhere along the ridge of his ribs. Eddie feels the rise and fall of Buck’s chest beneath his hands and his own breath catches. 

He’s felt the shape of Buck’s ribs under his hands before, slick with rain, unmoving. Remembers the clawing desperation with which he channeled every ounce into the compressions, refusing to let Buck go, refusing any possibility other than Buck coming back to him. 

It’s the same now. No sirens, no rain obscuring his eyesight, no chaos. But the weight in his chest feels splintered in a similar way.

His hand settles more firmly at Buck’s side, fingers spread like he could anchor him with touch alone. 

Eddie’s left hand comes up, resting in the warm spot between buck’s shoulder and his neck, softly squeezing–more reassurance than grip. His thumb brushes along Buck’s jaw as he pulls back just enough to see him.

There’s a smear of flour on Buck’s cheek, faded and soft at the edge like it’s been there a while. Eddie’s thumb shifts gently, wiping it away, letting his hand linger there for a second longer than necessary. Buck’s grown out his stubble, and Eddie feels the scratchy drag of it beneath his thumb–real, warm, here. Something about it steadies him. Like proof that this isn’t another moment slipping away. That Buck is in front of him–breathing, alive.

Buck doesn’t pull back. 

If anything, he leans into the touch–just a fraction, just enough for Eddie to feel more sure that Buck wants this–needs this, but hasn’t had the words to ask for it, hasn’t felt like he could for whatever reason.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Eddie says gently, voice low, “Just let me be here.”

Buck nods–barely a movement. His throat works around something he doesn’t say, and Eddie watches his lashes tremble, his eyes finally coming up to meet Eddie’s–there you are.

Something inside Eddie unclenches.

Buck holds the gaze for a heartbeat, maybe two, and in that look is everything–exhaustion, grief, fear, trust, and something Eddie can’t quite put a name to.

But it’s there. Curling low in his chest. Thrumming under his ribs. Rising up in the way his hands won’t let go. 

Buck swallows, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet. Rough-edged. Like the words have been sitting inside him too long, gathering weight.

“I thought if I kept moving… kept doing something… I wouldn’t have to feel it. Before he–before he–”

Buck stops, shuddering on his inhale, eyes falling to the floor again. Eddie can’t stop his thumb from sweeping across his cheek–slow, steady.

Even now–perhaps, especially now, cracked open and unguarded, trying so hard to hold himself together and not quite managing it, Buck is….

God.

His face is so dear. So beloved.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more worthy of gentleness.

“You don’t have to finish it,” Eddie says, his thumb brushing another slow arc across his cheek, “I know.”

Buck nods again, an emotion rolling over his face like a wave he doesn’t have the strength to outrun. It crests in the pinch of his brows, the tremble of his mouth, the way his eyes go glassy and then close–like shutting them might hold everything in for just a moment longer.

“I just–” Buck starts, then exhales in frustration when his voice cracks.

Eddie doesn’t press. His hand stays right where it is, thumb still moving in that slow, steady rhythm.

“You’re okay, Buck. You’re safe.”

Buck’s breath hitches again, and then softly, brokenly–”He told me the team was gonna need me.”

The words fall between them, brittle and raw.

“And now I don’t know what to do, Eddie,” Buck says, eyes still closed. “If I let go, if I stop for even a second–” He trails off, mouth twisting.

Eddie gives into the impulse to press his fingers against it, smoothing the crease away; Buck’s mouth is made for smiling, not this–this trembling, tight-lipped grief that doesn’t know where to go.

“Not this,” Eddie says, resolute, “Not alone.”

Eddie cups the side of his face, waiting until Buck meets his eyes, “If it catches up to you, then let it. I'll be right here for when it does.”

And that does it.

Buck leans forward, forehead pressing to Eddie's shoulder. It feels like being granted absolution–like being allowed to break, finally, without the fear of what comes after. 

Eventually, Eddie will coax Buck onto the couch and hand him a cup of his favorite chamomile tea. Eddie will tuck a blanket around them both, settling in beside him without asking, and let the silence stretch soft between them like a promise. The story will come out haltingly, and Eddie will catch every word without flinching. He won’t rush Buck, won’t try to fix what can’t be fixed. He’ll just listen, resting his hand against Buck’s knee.

There will be pauses. Long ones. Words Buck has to circle around before he can say them out loud. Eddie will be there for it all. They will figure it out, together, as they always do.

But for right now, Eddie holds Buck close, finally feeling his chest settle.

[lihhelsing]

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

8x16 coda | mature | 1k

READ IT ON AO3

Buck wakes up with a start. 

Ever since the lab, his sleep hasn't been the same and he doesn't think he's been able to sleep through the night once. But tonight's different. 

It's different because it takes him a long moment to figure out where he is. For someone who struggled with sleeping in this house after Eddie left, he sure got used to his bedroom. 

Eddie's bedroom. 

But he's in the living room now, sleeping on his couch, even though he knows his back is going to complain about it in the morning. It just felt like the right thing to do. 

There's something else, though. A small, barely audible sound echoing through the house. Almost as if someone had forgotten to turn off the tv, but he's looking at it right now and it's definitely off. 

He gets up slowly and his whole body feels heavy. He's exhausted, but he's been exhausted for the past two weeks and he doesn't think he'll ever not be exhausted anymore. 

There's a certain kind of tiredness that seeps into your bones when you lose someone you love, and he doesn't think it ever goes away. 

He walks quietly through the house trying to figure out where the noise is coming from and that leads him right to the bedroom door. 

His bedroom. 

Eddie's bedroom. 

The door is closed, so the sound is still a little muffled, but it's much clearer than it was in the living room. And it sounds terribly like someone's crying. 

Buck pushes the door open because how can he hear his best friend crying and not go to him? Never mind all those other complicated, messy feelings that have been swimming inside of him. 

If Eddie needs him, that's where he'll be. 

The room is almost completely dark, but Buck can see that the bed's empty. He panics for a second, looking around the room and finally, finallyfinding Eddie in the corner, completely crumpled on himself. He has his knees tucked into his chest and his face buried on it, and now that Buck's inside, there's no mistaking it. 

He's sobbing.

The sound rips through Buck's heart and it makes his legs falter under him, forcing Buck to lean on the wall so he doesn't fall. 

As soon as he feel steady, Buck crosses the room in three long strides and kneels in front of Eddie, unsure if he should touch him or not. Eddie, for his part, doesn't seem to have noticed Buck's presence yet, and he definitely doesn't want to spook him. 

"Eddie?" Buck calls softly, his hands hovering over the ball of sadness that's his best friend. Crying like a child on the floor. 

Buck knows that feeling. Knows that pain. He had felt it on the cold lab's floor just a few weeks ago. He had felt it ever since that day. 

It had been eating him alive and Buck has been trying to stifle it down as best as he can. He doesn't need that right now. He needs to be strong for everyone else, and most of all he needs to be strong for Eddie. 

Eddie, who had to hear about what happened through the phone. Eddie who had been miles and miles away when he found out, and didn't have anyone to hold him as he broke down. 

Eddie, who had apparently bottled everything up and was just now losing it. 

"Eddie, please," Buck says, moving his hand to touch Eddie's arm. He flinches away from Buck, looking up with those huge, brown eyes completely wrecked. 

"He's gone," Eddie mumbles through his sobs, and yet again, Buck feels it twist his insides. "He's gone, and I wasn't here, Buck. I didn't get to–"

"Shh," Buck says, "You're here now." 

"It's not enough!" Eddie says, and there's so much hurt in his eyes.

"Of course it's enough, Eddie," Buck tries, but he knows there's no use. None of them can do anything to bring Bobby back, but Eddie has lost time. 

"It hurts," Eddie says, and this time when Buck moves to touch him, he doesn't pull away. Buck feels relief flooding through him as he cups Eddie's jaw. 

"What hurts, sweetheart?" His voice goes impossibly soft. 

"Everything. All of it." 

Buck sighs quietly and lets his thumb caress Eddie's face. It's the first time he's seen him with a stubble, and it feels a little rougher, but Buck likes it. 

He likes everything about Eddie. 

"Let's get you back on the bed, okay?" He says, watching Eddie carefully. It takes him a moment, but he nods and it almost seems like he's leaning into Buck's touch. 

Almost. 

Buck gets up and offers Eddie a hand, and when he takes it, he holds it tight, as if he's scared Buck will let go. 

Doesn't he know Buck will never let him go? 

They walk to the bed, and Buck helps him get back in, adjusting his pillow and making sure the comforter is properly covering him, and the whole time, Eddie holds on to him.

Buck ignores the way his heart flutters. 

"Try and get some sleep," Buck says, and when he moves to walk away, Eddie tugs at his hand. "You gotta let go of me, bud." 

Eddie blinks up at him. The room is still mostly dark, but Eddie's eyes are sparkling in the dark as he tugs again. 

"Can't you stay?" 

"Can't I... Eddie, we talked about this. I'm sure you're going to be much more comfortable if you sleep alone." 

There's a beat. Another tug. 

"I don't want to sleep alone." 

Buck sighs. That's not... he's not... well, he doesn't mind sharing a bed with Eddie, it's just that his heart has been doing this annoying thing whenever Eddie's involved and he's not sure sleeping in the same bed as him is the smarter choice here, but how on earth can he tell him no when he's looking so fucking sad? 

"Fine," Buck says, and pretends to be annoyed. "Can you let go of my hand so I can at least climb into bed?" 

Eddie snorts and does as he's being told. Buck joins Eddie on the bed very ungraciously, and as soon as he's settled, feels a body pressing on him. 

"Eddie..." Buck says, much more to himself. 

"Please," Eddie whispers back. He's not sure what he's asking exactly, but Buck is a weak man when it comes to his best friend. 

He ends up stretching his arm around Eddie, so he can properly snuggle close to him, and feels Eddie latching himself onto Buck as if he's his lifeline. 

And maybe, in a way, he is. 

Buck's not going to overthink this. And he's not going to read too much into things. Eddie is hurting and he's being a good friend. A friend that wakes up in the middle of the night to comfort him. A friend that cuddles him, if that's what he needs. 

He's going to be what Eddie needs, and he's going to hold on to him until it's time for him to get back to El Paso. And then, Buck's going to smother all of those stupid romantic feelings he has for his best friend because he already lost Bobby. 

Buck cannot, for the life of him, lose Eddie.

[buckleyseddie]

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

happy birthday @cowboy-buck ♡

[the-fools-prince]

Looking forward to when eddie comes back to LA and he and buck argue who gets the bed

[bybobbysbeard]

Let’s look at this from Tommy’s perspective.

He regrets the breakup. He admits to wanting to reach out, and even driving past the loft. Buck doesn’t say he missed him too, but he does invite him home. They reconnect (passionately) and Tommy must wake up feeling hopeful. He goes grocery shopping, cooks breakfast, buy champagne. Maybe they’ll celebrate, or at least have mimosas.

Buck wakes up, and the first thing he says is: “I thought you left.” Ouch. Shortly followed by: “Last night doesn’t change anything.” Rough start.

But Tommy’s been missing him, so he makes the leap. Asks Buck out again. Buck says “You want to try again?” Doesn’t say if that’s what he wants too. Instead, he says “You’re not scared any more?” So Tommy reveals an insecurity, couched in a joke, like always. He’s jealous of the family Buck has, and he’s worried about his place in it. Eddie and Buck are so close, and Buck is obviously missing him, holding onto whatever part he can. Tommy’s threatened by the “unattainable straight friend”, and yeah maybe that’s shitty, but fears aren’t always rational.

Buck calls him on it. Pushes. Tommy backtracks. Buck gets mad. Says: “I don’t have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for, and I don’t have feelings for everyone I sleep with.”

The audience has been watching Buck spiral for months. We’ve seen the baking, the obsessive phone checking, the constant name-dropping. In a few scenes, we’ll see Buck confirm to Maddie that he is not in love with Eddie, that he misses him, but doesn’t want him that way.

Tommy doesn’t see any of that.

Of course he ran.

[buckadoodledoo]

and well the thing about buddie roommates is that crucially of course they are sharing the bed. because eddie refused to kick buck out of the bedroom after he SUBLETTED HIS HOUSE FOR HIM to get chris back and buck refused to let eddie sleep on the couch because it's STILL HIS HOUSE. so they are sharing the bed. and they are waking up every morning with limbs tangled and both trying so so so hard not to think -> i wish it could be like this forever (it Can you idiots). but also the first couple of nights. before they start sharing the bed. they fall asleep on the couch together. because they're both being annoying and stubborn about trying to give each other the bed. eddie's like, i'm not kicking you out of your bed. and buck's like, this is YOUR HOUSE eddie (chuckle. throwback to THIS ISN'T HIS HOUSE. HE'S A RENTER) you're not sleeping on the couch. and eddie's like, well i guess we're at an impasse. and buck's like, yeah. i guess we are. and eddie's like, okay! 😊 and makes himself comfy on the couch. and buck's like, okay! 😁 and makes himself comfy right next to him. and they fall asleep half on top of each other on the couch. this happens again the next night before they're both like, okay this is stupid, probably we should just both sleep in the bed.

[butchdiaz]

can't stop thinking about the morning after the breakdown right now. eddie slept on the couch. his room was a mess. his bed had glass in it so he slept on the couch. but buck slept over too. where did he sleep? on the floor next to eddie? did he sleep at all? or did he just lay there listening to eddie's breathing, watching the rise and fall of his chest, thanking god that he's here and he's safe with every little sniffle and snore? maybe he saw the sun start to creep through the curtains and eased himself up with cracking knees, holding his breath until eddie snored again, sound asleep. and he reached over and adjusted the blanket to cover him a little better and just watched him for a moment, looking so peaceful in sleep. so different to the pain on every line of his face the night before. then buck wakes chris up, a gentle hand on his shoulder. says Hey Bud. Time to get ready for school. We have to be Quiet though. Your Dad's still sleeping on the couch. chris whispers Okay Buck. and buck knows it's usually cereal on school days but he whips up pancakes with chocolate chips because. well. it was a hard night. chris slowly opens the kitchen door to avoid it creaking and sits down, still in his pjs, crutches left behind in his bedroom. and they eat in silence. there's a million questions on chris's tongue and most of them are Is Dad Okay? but he doesn't ask, because it's a stupid question. because he peeked into the bedroom while buck was making breakfast and saw the holes in the wall. buck steps outside while chris is finishing up and dials. Good Morning Buck, bobby says. Hey Bobby. Um. Could you come over to Eddie's house? He kind of. Uh. Lost it. Last night. And I Have to take chris to school soon and I just. Don't want him to be alone. When he wakes up. theres a little pause then. Of Course. Be there in 20. buck does the dishes, checks on chris, checks on eddie. hears the car pull up and opens the door. bobby gives him one look before pulling him into a hug and buck has to fight back sudden tears. and eddie makes a noise in his sleep like he's distressed and they both look over. and bobby whispers What Happened Buck? and buck tells him. He destroyed his room. Went at it with a baseball bat. Chris was so scared. I was...Fuck. Everyone he saved is dead, Bobby. and bobby understands, more than buck ever will and says, I'll have a cup of coffee waiting for him. buck drives chris to school and chris finally asks Is Dad gonna be okay? feeling like he's five years old. and buck says, Yeah. He just needs a little help right now. chris voice Are you gonna help him? buck voice Yeah buddy. I'm gonna try. and he vows to stay glued to eddie's side. just until he feels better. or maybe forever.

[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.”

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Epic Buddie Fic Rec | February 17th-23rd 2025

I got braces put in last week - for the second time in my life mind you! - so it's been a pretty miserable week for me 🙃 so I started a 9-1-1 rewatch to cheer me up 😄 (and because I'm in 9-1-1 withdrawal, only 10 days to go!!!!)

I also want to rec a 9-1-1 rewatch podcast I've been listening to, Tales From the 118! They don't have a tumblr so I'll just link to their first episode. I've really been enjoying it!

Complete

love bite by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Werewolf Eddie, Established Buddie | 1,8K | Mature):

“It’s okay, Eddie.” Buck soothes, “This is okay. You’re allowed to give into these instincts. There’s nothing wrong with it. You can bite me all over if you want.”

just hold on until the sun comes up tomorrow by thelikesofus/ @thelikesofus (Post-S4E14: Survivors | 2K | Teen):

“Buck,” Eddie says Buck’s name like a promise, like a prayer. “You're having nightmares and I'm not sleeping. If we're both going to be awake all night we might as well be awake together.” OR Why should either of them have to face the darkness alone when they have each other?

Love Language by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S8A, Getting Together | 4K | Teen):

When Eddie reluctantly reveals he can speak Swedish, Buck ends up learning a lot more about him than he bargained for.

i wanna feel you from the inside by shortndiaz (Vampire Buck, PWP, S3 | 4K | Explicit):

Starts with ‘wanna go for the title?’ and ends in some blood and sex

Eddie 2.0 by bellabrady (Eddie Moves to Texas | 5K | Not Rated):

Or: After Eddie moves to Texas, Buck adopts a stray cat and names it Eddie.

🔥 The Great Valentine's Day Debacle of 2025 by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Valentine's Day, Getting Together | 5K | General):

Eddie books a couples Valentine’s Day weekend for him and Buck. Except they’re not together. Eddie is an idiot.

tell me that you'll never let me go by farfromthstars/ @farfromthstars (Eddie Goes To Texas, Getting Together | 5K | Teen):

From the apartment, he calls Buck, who picks up after two rings. “Hey, did you make it okay?” Eddie leans back against the pillows on his bed and closes his eyes, wishing he was at home on his couch with Buck next to him. Or that Buck was here with him, at least. “Yeah, just got back from my parents’, actually.” “How’d it go?” Buck asks. His voice is warm, even through the phone. “Did Chris talk to you?” “A little bit,” Eddie says, and allows himself a smile. “Buck, he– he hugged me and told me he missed me. Of course, then he remembered that he was mad at me, but for a minute–” “That’s– that’s awesome, Eddie,” Buck says. “Hey, uh, I gotta run, but keep me posted, okay?” “Sure,” Eddie says, confused at being cut off so quickly. “What are you d–” But Buck has hung up already. ~ Eddie goes to Texas. Buck is being weird. It only takes them both five days to crack.

this life that we make by farfromthstars/ @doeeyeseddie (Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 5K | Teen):

Eddie stares at his bottle of beer and grits his teeth. He has to go, he knows it’s the right thing. He’s going to go. Why does he want Buck to ask him to stay so badly? “Why did you never ask me to stay?” Buck makes a sound, a mix of a hiss and a hiccup, and when Eddie turns to look at him, he suddenly looks as if he’s in pain. “Eddie, I–,” Buck rubs his hands on his thighs. “Did you want me to?” “I want you to be honest with me,” Eddie says. “And I guess I hope you’re not actually this…unbothered by my leaving.”

🔥TRUST! by pairofraggedclaws (PWP, Quarantine | 8K | Explicit):

“I get used to it, I guess. Kind of. After a while,” Eddie says. Then, very quietly, “I’m just, uh, sensitive.” “Oh,” Buck says. Eddie's just sensitive. Eddie, his best friend, who he has now seen when he comes. Who comes in under a minute if he isn’t getting some on the regs. This is – this is – interesting. * Love and premature ejaculation.

Good Job! by pretty_boy_buckley (Post-S8A, Getting Together | 8K | Mature):

Buck begins giving Eddie little star stickers to encourage him, Eddie really loves them

I don't wanna miss you like this by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Eddie Moves To Texas, Love Letters | 9K | Teen):

Once he was home—or, as Chris puts it, back in his stupid, shitty apartment, he sat down, poured himself a drink—then another, once he downed the first—took out his laptop, and started to type. It was surprisingly easy, once the alcohol hit his bloodstream, to write it out. To put himself in the mindset of someone who loved Buck and couldn’t keep it inside anymore. Eddie Diaz was living in El Paso—miles away from his best friend who needed him, struggling to cross the invisible distance his son was keeping from him. There was no quick fix for either—but he was working on it. And in the meantime, he could do something to help Buck feel better from afar.

I lose my feet in my father's shoes by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S8A, Chris Coming Home | 12K | Teen):

Just as Eddie is planning to move to El Paso, Chris gets into a fight at school, and Helena and Ramon decide they've had enough, sending Chris home.

The Pieces of You (I Carry With Me) by Kwills91/ @kwills91 (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Getting Together | 12K | Teen):

Eddie makes Buck a baby box and chickens out of giving it to him, leaving it in his closet for years and trying his hardest to forget about it, and what it might mean. Until Buck is helping Eddie pack for his move to El Paso and happens to find it.

disappearing into the distance by bucksclipboard/ @endofthedaymp3 (Eddie Comes Back From Texas, Getting Together | 16K | Teen):

Eddie wasn’t sure why he and Maddie weren’t close. It was strange, considering her little brother was the most important person in his life. Still, when the door opened, tight hugs were exchanged and cheerful welcome homes rang in his ears. “Does Bobby know? I gotta call Bobby!”, Chimney yelled. “Could you wait a minute?”, Eddie interjected. His eyes darted between them for a moment and landed on Chim, deciding he was his best bet. “Maybe first explain to me why I went to see Buck and his loft was empty. Am I missing something? Did he move?” or: eddie comes back from texas – only to find that buck has left los angeles

WIP

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 16/? | 96K | Explicit):

In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path

🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 13? | 58K | Teen):

Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.

Podfic

🔥 [Podfic] Paralytic Narcolepsy Guy Hates Buckley & Diaz by oRóisín (oKathleen) // fic by eightpackdiaz (Outsider POV, Canon, Getting Together | 30-45min | Teen):

Paralytic Narcolepsy Guy is forced to listen to Buckley and Diaz talk to and about each other in his unconscious presence over the years. He insists he fucking hates them. But then he also accidentally helps them get engaged.

[andforyouevan]

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

[rainbow-nerdss]

8x14 coda

It was a good morning.

Eddie let himself sleep in—there had been a concert the night before, and he’d picked up a couple of late night fares. Chris was still in bed when he woke up, but he was there, in Eddie's house, right there on the other side of the bedroom door. He felt refreshed, at peace with himself and the world around him. 

It wasn't perfect, of course. Chris helped a lot, but no matter how much work he put in, the house still didn't quite feel like home. He knew what was missing. It was glaringly obvious.

Chris may have been the most important person in his life but he wasn’t Eddie's only family, and the absence of Buck and the rest of the 118 only felt more pronounced now Chris was back, and the gaping wound of his absence was beginning to heal. Like at the site of any incident, the most painful injuries always make themselves known only after the emergency is over. 

His vitals were stable, the life-or-death fight had been won, and he suddenly found himself without the use of his left arm.

He started breakfast, figuring the smell of bacon would be as good as any alarm clock to wake Christopher, and tapping Buck's contact as a matter of routine. 

There was no answer, and Eddie pushed aside his disappointment. It was later than they usually called. Buck was on shift already, might even be out on a call. 

Eddie sent him a text instead, replying to the good morning message that had been waiting in their chat when he woke up.

Chris sat at the table, inhaling his bacon and eggs as though he hasn't eaten in a week.

“What's on the agenda today?” he asked between bites.

“Chris, swallow, please,” Eddie laughed, pretending to wipe away a spit fleck from his face. “I thought I'd tackle the front yard?”

“Gardening? So you need my help, then.”

“I wouldn't say no,” Eddie admitted. “But only if you're done with your weekend homework.”

Chris dropped his head on the table with a dramatic sigh. “Ugh. Fine. I have to finish that English assignment, but I'm all yours after!”

Eddie checked his phone, then tucked it away. “Great! Abuela was telling me about a nursery she likes the other day—how about I pull some weeds while you finish your assignment, then we can drive out together and pick out some plants?”

“Deal.” Chris shoved the last bit of bacon in his mouth and reached for his crutches. Eddie let him get halfway to his room before calling after him. 

“Hey, have you heard from Buck today?”

“Not yet!” Chris’s bedroom door closed behind him, leaving Eddie on his own.

It was fine.

Everything was fine.

He waited an hour, weeded a decent patch of the yard, then tried calling again.

No answer.

He sent another text, then switched tactics, texting Chim to ask how their gender “reveal” had gone.

For good measure, he also texted Hen a picture of the patch he'd been working on with a complaint that she'd stolen Buck’s free labor from him.

He worked for twenty more minutes, then checked his phone again.

No answers. From anyone. 

Something was wrong.

Eddie made his way inside.

“Hey, ready to go?” Chris asked from his spot on the couch. “Finished my assignment—you can check it if you want.”

Eddie didn’t say anything. He just sat next to him, turning on the TV and switching channels until he found somewhere showing the news. It was a local channel, and Eddie grunted in frustration.

“What's wrong?” Chris asked, picking up on his mood. 

“I don't know,” Eddie managed to say through gritted teeth as he searched for something, anything that would tell him what was happening in LA right now. Finally, he remembered Google.

It didn't take long to find the breaking news story about the lab explosion, the quarantine, the virus. And there, beside the army tents and the news vans was a ladder truck, the familiar red with 118 emblazoned on it. Eddie's hands shook as he read the story, clicked the video, and heard the words firefighters trapped inside alongside potentially deadly contagion.

He felt completely useless, hundreds of miles away while his family was at risk. Chris leaned into his side. “Are they—”

The reporter interrupted. “We have received word that there are at least two firefighters in critical condition, with no sign of any relief incoming. Doctor, what can you tell us about the virus?” 

The camera cut away to a woman in a lab, who started explaining something, but Eddie didn't hear a word. 

He closed the news site and started texting everyone he could think of—Buck, Bobby, Hen, Chim, Ravi, Athena, Maddie, Karen, even Tommy, though he hated himself even as he sent it. Karen replied right away, though she didn't know much more than he did. Finally, Maddie was able to give him some information, and his heart broke as he read it. 

Chris comes back into the room, though Eddie hadn't even registered him leaving.

“Buck's okay. He got out, no sign of infection, he's working on getting them out, but…”

“The others?” Chris guessed.

“Hen,” Eddie confirms. “And Chim, they… he's infected, and she's… Bobby had to…”

They were down a medic, he remembered. If he had been there, he could have helped them, not made Bobby do the surgery. Sure, it had gone okay but with these things, even the tiniest error could…

Eddie’s breathing was coming short and fast, until Chris put a hand on his shoulder. “Dad. Breathe, Dad. You can't drive if you're panicking.”

“Drive?” He asked. It was then he noticed the bag in Christopher’s hand. 

“I know we have to come back. You bought the house, and I have school and… but I want to go back. I… please, dad? Can we go home?”

Eddie's phone pinged, the name he’d been longing to see all day flashing on the screen.

Buck: I'm safe, but it's. It’s bad, eddie.

Buck: Chim is

Buck: and Hen

Buck: fuck

Buck: so glad you're safe in Texas rn. I couldn't 

Buck: sorry

Eddie felt the tears begin to pour down his face. “Don't forget to pack your meds,” he said. “And snacks—we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

[allisonrw96]

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.

[mythmagicetc]

when eddie and chris first move back, buck and eddie are taking turns between the bed and the couch, alternating every night. to eddie, it’s torture. no matter where he sleeps, the sheets, the pillows, the blankets, everything smells like buck. and it should be comforting, but honestly, it was easier in texas. buck is so close now, just barely out of reach. and buck suggested this in the first place, so of course eddie agreed; maybe buck needed it, the distance. maybe eddie needed to wait for his cue.

to buck, though, this is paradise. because, well. no matter where he sleeps, the sheets, the pillows, the blankets, everything smells like eddie.

he feels like he’s been bad, somehow. like he’s taking something that doesn’t belong to him. but it’s not buck’s fault, it’s not. this is the most of eddie he’ll ever get, okay? and someday, probably soon, he won’t even have this, so he savors it, burying his nose deep into the pillows, tossing and turning in the sheets until he feels eddie all around him. he needs this. he needs it. it’s all he has.

and one day, eddie finally finds the courage to say, “buck, we need to figure out the sleeping situation, man. i can’t—i can’t do this anymore.” and buck’s poor little heart snaps in two.

(eddie kisses him and says they should just share the bed. and buck’s poor little heart is healed up and working harder than ever.)

[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!

[lihhelsing]

For the first three nights after Eddie moved to El Paso, Buck slept on the living room couch. 

He didn't tell anyone, afraid of the pitying looks he knew he would get if he did, but he couldn't find it in himself to walk to Eddie's room and sleep in Eddie's bed. It felt too much like crossing a line. 

Sure, he had slept in Eddie's bed once or twice, but Eddie usually was there and Buck was scared shitless of the loneliness he would feel alone in it. 

Just him, and Eddie's old pillows that faintly smelled like him and the whole emptiness of the place. 

On the fourth night, Buck was too drunk to remember he didn't want to sleep alone. He went out that night, by himself, to try and hook up with someone, but no one had gotten his attention and Buck didn't do that kind of thing anymore. 

He didn't hook up with strangers to ignore his feelings, that is. 

What he did do, though, was drink until he couldn't walk straight and then head home with enough of a buzz that feelings weren't something he needed to think about. 

The problem was that  he'd struggled with his uber app, typing his old address instead of Eddie's house, and by the time he got home (back to Eddie's house, that is) Buck was slightly less buzzed. 

Enough to forget his decision to sleep on the couch. But not enough to avoid feelings once he walked inside Eddie's room and was assaulted by Eddie. 

Well, not Eddie himself, but Eddie's presence, in a way. 

Eddie's smell was the first thing. Still impregnated in the room. Then Eddie's sheets that Buck supposes he didn't want to take to El Paso for some reason. And finally... 

Buck walked to the side table, eyes locked in a picture frame he had seen countless times. 

In it, there was a photo of Eddie and Chris. One that Buck himself had taken a few years back. Buck knew that he kept that on his bedside, of course. Had seen it a million times, probably, which was exactly why it struck him as odd that Eddie had forgotten about it. 

Maybe Eddie had wanted to take it with him instead of put in the boxes, afraid that it would break, somehow, and then he simply ended up forgetting. 

But it was such an important picture. Wouldn't Eddie have missed it already? 

Eddie mentioned he had started going through his boxes, emptying them slowly as him and Chris settled up in El Paso. But if he had decided to take that out of a box, then Eddie must've missed it, right? 

Why hadn't he asked Buck about it yet? 

Buck fished his phone in his pocket and snapped a picture the picture frame, opening up Eddie's chat and starting to type. 

'Hey! I think you forgot this.' 

Buck's finger hovered over the green send button, but he couldn't find it in him to press it. He erased the message, biting his lip. 

Telling Eddie his precious picture with Chris wasn't lost was the right thing to do. But then again, how would Eddie get it anyway? It wasn't like he was about to make the drive back just for a photo right?

And sure, Buck could mail it to him, but that would be expensive. The best thing Buck could do was keep it safe for Eddie until he came to visit. Right? 

Buck put the picture back where it belonged and placed his phone right next to it, getting ready for bed, and for the first time ever since Eddie left, he fell asleep in Eddie's bed, with his favorite picture of him and Chris beside him. And for the first time ever since Eddie left, Buck didn't feel so alone.