foolishness and all
summary: your boyfriend puts your love to the test when his heart is set on a certain unsightly purchase.
pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader
warnings: jar jar binks. not edited, i was laughing too hard.
wc: 1.8k+
a/n: this is the product of a very insane conversation that occurred in the middle of the night last night with @emmaisgonnacry, @lokis-army-77, and @emma-munson. forever sad we can't get the jar jar watch </3 (but at least emma got the darth maul one!) ((thank you for making me laugh until i cried last night, friends.))
“If you buy that thing, I’m breaking up with you.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m getting the watch.”
“And I’m getting a new boyfriend.”
You glare at your boyfriend for several beats of tense silence, narrowing your eyes as if it’ll do anything to change his mind. His heart is already set – there’s no stopping what’s about to happen.
“Edward Munson,” you stress, hand shooting out to hold his wrist, but he’s already whipping it out of your reach, “That thing is hideous. We’re shopping for a nice watch for Steve’s wedding, not that.”
“This thing has a name, sweetheart,” Eddie smiles toothily, tilting his head tauntingly at you, “And I think it fits the theme perfectly.”
“In what fucking world?”
You're whispering harshly now, trying to keep from causing a commotion in the middle of the store and garnering any more unwanted attention. The workers had given you strange enough looks when Eddie had first laid eyes on his prize, his little yelp of excitement seemingly startling them.
The less people who witnessed the atrocity on Eddie’s wrist currently, the better.
Eddie goes against that wish entirely, holding his wrist high in the air for the entire mall to see at this point, “In my world. He did say it was meant to be open for interpretation-”
“Not like this.”
“And my interpretation is buying this absolutely priceless Jar-Jar Binks watch.”
The thing looks down at you, almost as if it’s laughing at you just as Eddie was right now.
Part of you wonders if it’s all a bit – something Eddie noticed set you off, and he’s now making it into an entire catastrophic situation solely for his own enjoyment at your irritation. But part of you also knows that even if it is a bit, Eddie Munson will commit wholeheartedly to it.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke or not. He’ll be leaving this store as the owner of that watch, and the thought mortifies you.
“Please,” you finally resort to begging, feeling a bit childish as you give a pitiful hop to reach his wrist. It’s useless. He only stretches higher, shirt riding up to expose that strip of pale skin beneath the fabric. Your eyes catch on it momentarily, but you force yourself to not get distracted, “Eddie, baby-”
“Nuh uh,” he’s quick to shake his head, taking a full step back from you, “Nope. That baby shit isn’t working on me this time. I’m buying it. End of discussion.”
Fine. The sweet talk route didn’t work. That’s fine.
You had more than one weapon in the arsenal.
Before he can even think to step any further away, you reach out and hook your finger through one of his belt loops, giving a tug that further exposes the band of his boxers all while forcing him closer to you.
You’re back on your tip-toes, no longer reaching for the watch, but to let your lips barely graze over his as your whispers, “What if I ask you not to very, very nicely?”
That has him faltering. Complete hesitation as he takes a deep breath and visible gulp, arm beginning to drop ever so slightly.
“I would… I’d…” he trails off, clearly losing focus as your lips stay hovering just out of touch, “I’d probably… I-”
“Probably not buy it – right, handsome?”
And just as quickly as he’d fallen victim to the game you’d started playing, he’s pulled from it.
He leans back as far as he can with your finger still clinging to his pants, scrunching up his nose, “I see what you’re doing. Not fucking fair. It’s only thirteen dollars, anyway. I bet if Steve was here right now, he’d tell me to get it.”
“He wouldn’t!” you whisper-yell, giving up and pulling back as well, “It’s his wedding, Eddie. He told us to get something nice to fit in with the black tie dress code,” you can see him ready the argument of interpretation once more, and nip it in the bud, “No amount of interpretation can ever qualify the head of Jar-Jar Binks turned into a watch as something that fits into black tie attire.”
He’s not convinced. Not of the point you’re trying to make – no, you know he agrees with you and is just being a little shit at this point – but of not buying the watch.
“What if I just bought it?” he barters, “Maybe I don’t wear it to the weddin-”
“There’s no maybes about it. You can’t wear it to the wedding. You’re one of the groomsmen.”
He lifts his other hand just as the one adorning the eyesore finally drops to be eye level once more, “Fine! Fine. I won’t wear it to the wedding, but I’m still getting it.”
It’s a compromise. Or as close to a compromise as you and Eddie were going to get to right now.
With his wrist finally lowered, you can finally get a proper look at the thing. It’s Jar-Jar’s head with a band to mimic his skin, no clock in sight until it’s flipped open. The inside might be even worse though. Vivid font curling to spell out Jar-Jar, a light orange background with darker swirls, and the world’s smallest sliver of a screen to display the digital time.
It absolutely blows your mind that anyone thought it was a good marketing idea. But then again, people like your boyfriend exist. He was the intended audience, not you.
“It’s not even that cool,” you weakly still try to fight the losing battle, gingerly grabbing for the wrist this time with your free hand. Your finger hasn’t left Eddie’s belt loop, now resting comfortably in it, just growing fond of the closeness rather than weaponizing it against him.
And maybe as a way of keeping him from running up to the counter to complete the purchase. Maybe.
“It’s the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he proudly proclaims, right there in the middle of the Radio Shack, never having looked more satisfied with himself, “It can just be a conversational piece. I promise, I won’t break out the secretly evil little shit-”
“What?”
“Unless the occasion actually calls for it.”
“I’m sorry, can we go back to where you just called Jar-Jar secretly evil?” you ask, more perplexed than concerned at this point.
He was getting it. You were hating it. You had bigger wars to win with the man before you at a later date, surely.
His grin makes you regret asking, “Oh, you haven’t heard the theory about Jar-Jar being a Sith lord, have you?”
Your finger slips from his jeans, and your eyes nearly roll out of your head.
“Go buy that thing. I’m waiting in the car.”
“Wait, babe, no!”
“Nope. I’m not listening to this.”
You turn from Eddie to walk away, making sure he can’t see the corners of your mouth twitching with a smile you’re so desperately fighting, but it’s no use when he grabs onto your elbow to spin you back around.
“Eddie, I’m not-”
You’re interrupted with his lips on yours, an unexpectedly genuine kiss ensuing. The kind that reminds you why you’d ever deal with someone who wants a Jar-Jar Binks watch, the kind that reminds you why the occasional embarrassment Eddie purposefully puts you through in public is all worth it.
All the butterflies, all the sweetness, all the tenderness. The way his thumb traces over your skin as his hand stays wrapped around your elbow, the way his other hand comes up to cradle your cheek. You can still taste whatever sour candy he’d bought moments before walking into the store all over his tongue and lips, hiding his last cigarette from hours ago.
It’s a good enough kiss to forget the entire interaction that had just occurred.
When he pulls away, you’re a little breathless, all fluttering eyes glazed over as you look up at him, “What was that for?”
His smile could melt your entire existence. Turn you right into a puddle of all the love you struggle to contain, just for him.
“Just because,” he shrugs, but then he continues on, “And for putting up with me. Thank you for that.”
“I don’t put up with you,” you say immediately, and mean it.
Even when he’s being insufferable. Even when he’s still wearing the goddamn Jar-Jar Binks watch. You don’t put up with him – you love him. Foolishness and all.
Your finger returns to his belt loop, and this time, you tug him in for another kiss. Something short and sweet, something just because.
“You know,” he mumbles against your lips, arm wrapping around you so you can’t leave him just yet, “They have a Darth Maul one, too…”
Your hand comes up between the two of you, only a slight struggle, just for you to smack him in the center of his chest, “You can only have one, Munson.”
“We could match!”
“I am not wearing that thing.”
He throws his head back and cackles, a certain glee only born of being with the one you feel safest with flooding his features. All those wrinkles in the corners of his crinkled eyes, the stretch of his lips that bring on the appearance of dimples you could bury yourself in if given the chance. A boy made up of stardust and felicity. Your boy made up of every good thing that could have ever existed in this lifetime.
You’d rather bicker over the useless things with him a hundred times over than ever live a life without him.
“It’s fine,” he finally sighs dramatically, “I’ll just wear the Jar-Jar Binks watch to our wedding one day.”
Our wedding one day.
Your heart just about explodes, and the only thing you can do to not choke up is smack him even harder.
Our wedding.
It has a nice ring to it.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” you tell him instead.
There’ll be plenty of other moments to talk about that. Now, when he still wears the ugliest watch you’ve ever laid eyes on, is not the time.
“Gotta catch me first,” he teases as he slowly backs away, a twinkle in his eyes that makes you question if he knows how you’d secretly felt about that joke. That makes you question if he and Steve Harrington had really only been shopping for Steve’s rings for the last year.
He doesn’t even run to the counter, knowing that you won’t be chasing him. You’re content to stay back and wait. You’ll always wait on him, really.
Even if it meant waiting for the day he wore that goddamn watch on your wedding day, because at the end of it all, you’d probably let him. You’d even wear the Darth Maul watch to match if he insisted.
You’d let him wear whatever he wants, and you’d wear whatever he insists upon, because at the end of the day, it wouldn’t matter – it’d be enough to simply marry the dork that just tripped on his way up on the counter while giggling over a watch on his wrist, and know that he’s yours, forever.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin
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@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking
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outsider perspective for @bucktommypositivityweek
Even with everything else going on, Bobby notices that Buck is particularly restless in the weeks after the cruise disaster. He figures it’s nerves about Chimney and Maddie’s wedding or the bachelor party. He doesn’t pay much attention to it.
Buck’s restlessness hits an all-time high around the time Eddie is out with a sprained ankle. Bobby attributes it to the absence of his partner and doesn’t think much of it.
And then, only two weeks before the wedding—just when Buck should be getting even more stressed out—Buck gets very calm. Maybe more calm than Bobby has ever seen him. And he stays that way.
Something changes for him between one shift and the next, but he doesn’t talk about it; just walks around the firehouse with a small smile on his lips and a spring in his step. For the first time, Bobby thinks Buck looks at ease with himself.
Bobby waits patiently to find out why.
He officiates the hospital wedding with tears in his eyes. He’s proud of Chimney, happy for Maddie, and he’s still sensitive from the fresh wave of appreciation for Athena and their life together he’s felt since they almost died on their honeymoon.
When he sees Buck lead Tommy into the hospital room by the hand—his face covered in soot that’s clearly transferred from Tommy’s, smiling wide and goofy, bouncing his way towards his sister and the cake with a lightness Bobby hasn’t seen from him in a long time—Bobby instantly understands this is it. This is what finally allowed Buck to feel at ease. The tears are back in his eyes.
“Did you know about this?” Athena asks Bobby quietly.
They’re watching Tommy try to figure out how to greet Maddie without getting any soot on her beautiful dress. He ends up awkwardly kissing her hand, which makes her laugh in delight. Buck can barely contain his excitement at the two of them getting along. He looks like he should be wagging a tail.
“No, I didn’t have a clue,” Bobby answers honestly. “But it explains a lot.”
Bobby can’t say that he didn’t see this coming for Buck. They’ve been out on too many calls where Buck has tripped over himself in front of hot men for this to be a surprise. True, Bobby didn’t foresee Tommy being Buck’s first relationship with a man, but he’s glad he is. Tommy is a good guy. Bobby might not know him well, but he knows that much. For Buck to finally settle into this part of himself with Tommy by his side fills Bobby with joy for both of them. Tommy will treat Buck well, and will be treated well in return.
Bobby watches as Tommy wets a paper napkin with condensation from his drink and tries to clean what is obviously the soot of his kisses off of Buck’s mouth. Bobby sees the soft, smitten way Tommy smiles at Buck—like it’s a privilege to do this; like Buck is something to be treasured. Bobby sees the way Buck smiles so hard at the simple intimacy that Tommy has trouble reaching inside his dimples. Bobby has never seen Buck smile quite like this. There’s nothing inappropriate about it, but Bobby almost feels like he shouldn’t be seeing it. It’s so nakedly tender that it feels like it should be private.
Tommy finishes cleaning the soot off as best he can and gives Buck a gentle kiss. Buck laughs gleefully when Tommy grimaces and wipes where his lips just were again. They’re too far away for Bobby to hear, but he sees Buck say, I don’t care, and lean in for another quick kiss. The corners of Tommy’s lips turn up. He doesn’t try to wipe the soot off this time.
It’s so early, but Bobby can already tell that this is the kind of love that Buck has been waiting for; the kind he deserves. There’s a maturity under the flirtation—a steadiness—that Bobby can feel from across the room. It’s early, but it isn’t casual. Buck doesn’t love by halves, and Tommy is already all in. He wouldn’t have shown up to a hospital wedding in ash-covered turnouts if Buck wasn’t special to him.
The last Bobby knew, Tommy didn’t do relationships. That was a long time ago. When they worked together at the 118, Bobby could always tell that Tommy was holding parts of himself back. He’d talked about being intentionally single almost convincingly, but sometimes Bobby had seen a bit of panic under it. Sometimes a wistfulness; a longing he’d shove down with a careful dismissiveness. Bobby had taken notice, but he hadn’t locked into where it came from at the time. Maybe if Bobby had spent more time with Tommy before he transferred—if Bobby hadn’t been drowning in his own demons at the time—he would have understood this thing inside of Tommy a little better. But he understands it now: under the jaded matter-of-factness and from inside the closet, Tommy had been bursting at the seams to love and be loved. He just didn’t know how to let himself have it.
Buck had the same need inside of him: he’d worn that love me love me love me desperation on his sleeve for years. Tommy is the first of Buck’s partners to meet him on this level, as far as Bobby has been able to tell.
As Buck and Tommy make their way excitedly between groups holding hands, Bobby can see how that gnawing need has dissipated in both of them. They both look relaxed and happy, even after everything they’ve both been through in the last 24 hours. They have each other now.
Bobby is proud of them both.
Buck and Tommy are two of the first to leave. Tommy started with high energy—still running on the adrenaline of firefighting and the anxiety of trying to make it to the wedding on time—but he fades fast. After an hour, he’s half asleep on his feet, leaning hard into Buck’s side while they talk to Eddie and Chris, his hand tight on Buck’s hip to keep himself upright. Buck whispers something into his ear and he nods. Buck drops a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s almost shy, the way he does it; almost disbelieving, like he’s still coming to terms with the idea that he can do this now. Bobby can see the joy that bubbles up in Buck when Tommy nuzzles into it. He gets more soot on Buck’s face.
Buck leads Tommy over to a chair in the corner and parks him there while he does his rounds of goodbyes. Smart, Bobby thinks. Goodbyes at their group gatherings take upwards of half an hour. Tommy is asleep within seconds of sitting down.
Bobby watches as Buck gets lots of gentle teasing, lots of hugs, and even a firm handshake from his father. Buck blinks hard like he wasn’t expecting such a clear show of approval, small as it may seem. The Buckley parents aren’t ones for affection, even when they’re trying to be supportive. Buck takes his father’s hand like the olive branch Bobby knows it is.
Bobby has no such reservations. Buck starts walking towards him and Athena looking more nervous than he did when he walked up to his parents, and Bobby pulls him into a solid hug before he can even say anything. Bobby doesn’t let him go for a long moment.
“I’m so proud of you, kid,” he says, trying not to cry again.
Buck has come such a long way from the lost, desperate person he was seven years ago. He’s not casting about in the dark looking for something, anything to tether himself to. He’s grown and matured on his own, and finally he found a partner who wants to meet him where he is. A partner who shows up for him.
“Thank you, Bobby.” Buck clings a little and sounds on the verge of tears himself.
Athena makes Buck promise to bring Tommy to the next cookout. Buck blushes and ducks his head as he agrees. Bobby remembers how happy Tommy was to have family dinners, back when Bobby first instituted them. He gets the sense that Tommy didn’t have too many of those growing up. He can’t wait to see Tommy’s face at a family cookout. Bobby might even let him have a turn on the grill.
Buck wakes Tommy up with a gentle hand on his cheek. Tommy stirs, pressing into Buck’s hand before he’s even fully awake. Bobby watches as Tommy remembers where he is, as he looks up at Buck and gives him an eye-crinkling smile; somewhat refreshed from his nap and happy to have Buck near him again. He nods at whatever Buck says to him and lets Buck pull him to his feet.
They throw a last goodbye to the general group as they leave the room hand-in-hand. Buck has never looked more settled in his own skin; more like himself. Neither has Tommy. They both look like they’ve found what they’ve been looking for their whole lives.
Bobby’s not sure he believes in soulmates, but they make a pretty compelling argument.
“I give it six months,” Athena says.
“You don’t think they’ll last?” Bobby asks, surprised. “Haven’t you seen them tonight?”
“Six months until they’re engaged,” Athena clarifies with a teasing smile.
“Ah,” Bobby smiles. “I don’t know. Buck might not rush this one.”
“It’s not a rush if you know it’s right,” Athena says. She gives Bobby a significant look.
“I can’t argue with that.” Bobby leans down to kiss Athena. Every kiss still thrills him like it’s the first time. “Let’s just hope their honeymoon goes a little better than ours.”
Athena hums. “We’ll keep them far away from any boats.”
They watch Buck wrap his arm around Tommy’s waist while they walk down the hospital hallway. Tommy leans into him and presses a kiss to his temple.
It’s so early. This could just be the honeymoon phase. It could just be the two of them finding something that feels good after so many relationships that felt wrong, for one reason or another. It could be explained away a million different ways. But Bobby has a feeling in his gut that this is it for both of them.
Bobby may not have foreseen Tommy being Buck's first relationship with a man, but he does foresee Tommy being Buck's last relationship. If Maddie had thrown her bouquet, Buck would have caught it without even trying. They’re next, Bobby knows. And it’s going to work out.
They’re good for each other.
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