#mostly so buck can blue screen when he sees Eddie's pictures | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sorrowingsoldier · 2 years

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a little snippet of my to be published fic Cuando En Tus Ojos Me Vi which is a 4+1 where four times Eddie’s family calls Buck a nickname (affectionately) and the one time they don’t

The first time it happens, Buck doesn’t pay much mind to it.

It’s Christopher’s birthday and Isabel pulled Eddie’s arm until he agreed to let her cook, threatening him with death if he bought pizzas for Chris’ birthday.

It’s not Buck’s first time going to Abuela's house, not by a long shot. But when he makes a right turn and sees the street lined with mostly unfamiliar cars, large trucks parked half on the curb, he suddenly feels nervous. He doesn’t see the familiar sedans and suvs from his 118 family, and something about going into Eddie’s abuela’s house that’s full of Eddie’s family, drops a stone into his stomach. The hand he has wrapped around the steering wheel sweats, and instead of parallel parking in a spot he knows he can fit in, Buck parks two blocks down to give himself an excuse to not be in the house already.

Buck puts the Jeep in park, picks up his phone and taps the screen, waking it up. There’s already a text from Eddie asking where he’s at, another from Chris that’s just a picture of his cake, packed away in the stuffed fridge. It puts a smile on Buck’s lips and subsides the nerves, just a little because the two most important people at the party want him there. It’s not enough to make him jump out of the vehicle and into Abuela’s house, because when he looks down the street at the house, he feels like he’s frozen to his seat.

Taking in a deep breath, Buck forces himself to unbuckle his belt, grab Chris’ present from the passenger footwell, and open the door. He gets one foot out on the running board before the nerves hit him again. It’s aggravating, being nervous about what feels like nothing, but getting angry at himself now won’t help anyone.

Buck pushes himself out of the jeep, door still open behind him. He’s aware that the walk to the house should take him one minute, tops. He’s got long legs and a fast stride from having to keep up with speedwalking king Eddie. But the moment his feet touch the curb, the moment he can smell carne asada, it’s like his legs turn to cement. Buck stands outside his jeep, the door wide open and Chris’ present in hand, and stares at the yellowing grass in front of him.

It’s literally just Eddie’s family, is what he tries to reason with himself, he’s not a guest in Eddie’s house and he’s well aware that extends to Abuela and Pepa’s houses too. But the problem is there isn’t a “just” when it comes to Eddie. Not when Buck wears his heart on his sleeve, when he wants to make the best first impression, when he wants the people that make up the core members of Eddie’s family to like him.

So, he stares at the yellowing grass. He adjusts his grip on the twine handles of the gift bag, and squares his shoulders just a little. With a shut of the Jeep door behind him and a click on the fob to lock it, he steps over the grass and onto the sidewalk. It takes him another handful of moments to get his brain in check, and he’s proud of himself when he only stops once two houses down to force his heart to not beat out of his chest.

The gate leading to the house is open. There’s blue and green balloons tied to the posts, streamers woven through the chainlink. He can hear joyful shouting and music coming from the backyard, can smell the delicious scent of meat and corn, and with one more breath he steps into the property line.

Buck stares at the open front door and then looks over at the side of the house he knows would take him right to the back yard. He’s usually with Eddie when he comes over and follows his lead, to go in through the front door or around the side of the house. He’s conflicted on which path to take (Is going through the side too familiar? What if Eddie’s inside? Should he call or would that make him a weirdo?) when a man rounds the corner, car keys in hand like he was going to grab something.

They stare at each other for a moment. The man looks about his age, button down tucked into faded bootcut jeans. He’s probably confused, Buck realizes, as to why there’s a random guy standing in the yard. Buck, staring at the man with wide eyes, is just as confused as to why there’s a man interrupting his very public crisis.

The man breaks the silence, keys jingling in his hands when he motions behind himself, “You here for the party?”

Buck nods once and clears his throat, forcing himself to use his damn words, “Yeah,” he lifts the gift bag a little, “I’m Eddie’s friend, Buck.”

When Buck says his name the man’s entire face changes. He smiles, wide and giddy, and a teasing glint comes to his eyes. He steps forward, and pulls Buck into a hug, clapping his back before leaning back to look Buck over, “Ah, Buck! I’m Eduardo, Eddie’s cousin.”

Buck wasn’t expecting the hug, he is a stranger to this man after all, but it lifts some of the anxiety that was living in the base of his stomach. He settles for gripping Eduardo’s elbow, letting himself smile for the first time since he turned down the street, “Nice to meet you, do they call you Eddie too?”

Eduardo laughs, letting Buck go and nodding with his head to follow him, “Nah, ‘Eduardo’s are ‘Lalo’s. So you can call me Lalo, only my mom calls me Eduardo.” Lalo dramatically shudders, like the thought of his mom calling him by his full name is frightening.

“Lalo,” Buck tests the name out, keeping in step with him as they walk between the house and the gate, “noted.”

The backyard is an organized chaos. Kids are running, people surround the barbeque pit with beers in their hands, others sit around fold out tables of various shapes, some on actual chairs while others make use of the tops of coolers. Buck automatically searches the faces for Eddie and Chris, he knows he needs to be respectful and introduce himself to everyone else, but he’s got his priorities.

He finds Chris under a tree close to the house, watching as a dinosaur shaped piñata is carefully rigged to a branch. Following the bright orange nylon rope, Buck’s eyes land on Eddie, on the roof of Abuela’s house, yelling something at the teenager in the tree who adjusts the piñata accordingly. Eddie looks like something out of a dream, in a nicer button down and brown jeans stretched over his thighs where he’s on one knee, the boots he wears on a daily basis poke out of the hem.

“Eddie,” Lalo yells, stopping just below where Eddie’s squatting on the roof, “tu güero is here!”

Family members whoop at the comment, looking from Lalo, to Eddie, and then at Buck. Buck never took Spanish in school, he’s decent enough at it to help people on a call if he needs to, but Buck never learned the slang. He’s pretty sure he’s missing some context, but Lalo’s words don’t sound mean, so he just shrugs and watches Eddie.

Eddie frowns for a moment, gloved hands still holding on to the rope, but then he looks two feet behind Lalo and the frown leaves for an embarrassed smile, “Cabrón,” Eddie shouts down at his cousin, earning laughs from spectating family, before saying, loud enough that everyone can heart but with such softness that it almost make Buck’s knees weak: “Hey, Buck.”

Lalo laughs and slaps his shoulder like Buck’s in on a joke, and Buck’s just excited to be involved because he grins, on hand coming to his hip, “Eds, I don’t think that’s regulation.” He points to the roof, the rope, the random kid in the tree. It’s teasing, but Buck knows that’s the vibe going on.

“Yeah,” Lalo sing-songs, “Eds what about regulation?”

“Fire marshal's going to dock you,” He’s grinning like an idiot, egged on by Lalo who nudges him in the side encouragingly, obviously excited with the prospect of teasing Eddie, “don’t make me pull my clipboard out.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, it’s fond and annoyed at the same time, there’s a little flush on his face and Buck can’t tell whether it’s from the sun or the chorus of ‘ooo’s from his family, “What the fire marshal doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Buck feels two small arms wrap around him from the side, forcing him to look away from Eddie. He smiles down at Chris, his love struck idiotic grin turning fond, “If it isn’t the birthday boy!”

“Hi Buck,” Chris looks up at him still holding on to his waist, “what took you so long?”

“Traffic,” Buck says instead of devling through the crisis that still lives in his chest, he kneels himself down a little, pulling Chris into a side hug, “were you the one to get your dad on the roof?”

Chris shakes his head, peering over Buck's arms to try and get a look into the gift bag, “No, that was Lalo. Even I know that’s not in regulation.”

“Guilty,” Lalo says with a shrug when Buck looks up at him, “he’s literally a professional at this rope, climbing shit.”

Buck hears the impact of someone carefully jumping off the roof, the soft grunt, and then Eddie’s next to Lalo, “Yeah Buck,” Eddie takes off his gloves, wiping his forehead with a little huff, “I’m a professional.” It’s Eddie’s turn to grin, and he looks so fucking good Buck has to flick his eyes away with the guise of looking down at Chris.

#buddie #syd writes #this should be published tomorrow or wednesday i have not decided

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starlightbuck · 4 years

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i wanna be known (by you)

part 1/2 || word count: 6.5k || read on AO3

“I didn’t mean to do it.”

Hen glances down at Eddie’s phone then back up at him in disbelief. “How do you ‘not mean’ to download a bunch of dating apps but still have them on your phone?”

In which Eddie delves into the intimidating world of online dating.

“I didn’t mean to do it.”

Hen glances down at Eddie’s phone then back up at him in disbelief. “How do you ‘not mean’ to download a bunch of dating apps but still have them on your phone?”

Eddie ducks his head, feeling a warm blush work its way up his neck and onto his cheeks. He can’t tell Hen the truth. It’s a pathetic story that includes a night without Christopher, a bottle of red wine, and a very sad Spotify playlist. “It just happened.”

“Okay,” Hen says, but her tone makes it painstakingly obvious that she doesn’t believe him. Eddie is just grateful that she’s choosing not to call him out on his lie. “So, remind me what you need me for again?”

When Eddie woke up this morning, he had a phone full of apps he didn’t remember downloading but couldn’t bring himself to delete. Sober him was too scared to take the first step towards putting himself out there again, but apparently last night’s wine-drunk version of him wasn’t. He was thankful for that courage, up until he tried logging into the first app and realized that he was way out of his depth. He needed help and he knew exactly who he could turn to.

“I don’t know how to use them.”

Hen leans closer to Eddie so that she can hear him over the chatter in the firehouse. “Can you say that again? I didn’t hear you.”

“I don’t know how to use that dating app,” Eddie repeats, gesturing to the one that Hen currently has open on his phone. When her eyes widen behind her glasses, he resigns himself to being a little overheated for the entirety of his conversation thanks to his embarrassment. “Or any. I’ve never used one before.”

He braces himself for whatever jokes Hen has up her sleeve in response to his confession - she always has at least three at her disposal - but they never come. Instead she says, “alright, then let me show you.”

“What?”

“I’m going to show how to use the app.” Hen tilts the phone in his direction so that he can see what she’s doing. “Once you get the basics down for this one, using the rest of the apps will be a breeze.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open. He had mentally prepared himself for the teasing he’d be on the receiving end of as soon as he recruited Hen for assistance. He knew it would be done good-naturedly, which is why she was the one he chose to turn to. “You’re not gonna make fun of me?”

Hen sighs, lowering Eddie’s phone and using her free hand to hold his. It’s an unexpected move, but not unwelcome. “C’mon, Eddie. In what world would I possibly make fun of you for putting yourself out there again?”

Her brown eyes bore into his and it takes all of Eddie’s strength not to look away. They’ve been working together for close to two years now. It’s how she knows about Shannon’s passing and how much of a mess Eddie was after it happened. “Thank you,” he whispers.

She pats his hand before picking up his phone again. “Now, enough of that. It’s time for us to get down to business.”

She inputs some basic information on Eddie’s behalf, all the while showing him what she’s doing so he can do it on his own with the other apps later.

“And now all that’s left before we choose some of your pictures is to put in your sexual preference,” Hen explains, finger hovering over the word ‘women’.

Eddie’s heart rate kicks up a couple of notches as Hen moves to click that word, not even bothering to acknowledge the other two options. It’s a conversation Eddie has never had at work, not because he’s ashamed, but because it’s never come up.

He can let Hen believe her assumption is correct and choose the ‘women’ option for him now and go home and change it for himself later. She would be none the wiser and nothing would change. But, Eddie decides that that’s not what he wants. Hen, hell the entire 118, have become his family and it doesn’t feel right to lie to family. Not that he’s been lying so much as omitting the truth.

“Actually,” Eddie interjects, cutting off whatever Hen was in the middle of saying. If he doesn’t do this now, he might never do it. He holds his breath as he lightly knocks her hand out of the way so that he can bypass the ‘men’ and ‘women’ option to choose ‘both’.

She looks over at him, shock clearly written across her face before letting out a startled laugh. “Okay, Diaz. I see you.”

He exhales, happy that coming out to her was as simple as that. No questions, no accusations, nothing. It makes a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying float away and he’s lighter because of it.

He knocks his shoulder against Hen’s and she does the same back to him before giving him his phone back.

“Okay, time to pick the pictures you want on your profile.” Hen taps her chin before saying, “taken a picture with any puppies recently? No one, man or woman, can deny a cute man holding an even cuter puppy.”

Buck, 26 Los Angeles, CA Birthmark not eye herpes.

“He’s cute.” Eddie drops his phone face down onto his lap, heart racing as he looks over his shoulder. Hen is standing there, smirk firmly in place. He doesn’t know how long she’s been there and he’s not sure that’s something he wants to know. If she’s been there the whole time, that would mean she knows he’s been openly staring at this guy’s profile for the last twenty minutes. “Did someone punch him in the face?”

“Did someone punch who in the face?” Chim asks as he raids the fridge for a snack.

Bobby must be in his office or somewhere else in the station because no one would ever dare to mess with anything in the kitchen when he’s around, especially the fridge. They’re all convinced he has some kind of organization system in place in there that he refuses to tell them about. It’s the only way to explain how he always knows when something’s been moved.

Eddie shoves his phone into his back pocket as if doing so will suddenly end this conversation. “No. No one.” He clears his throat. “No one got punched.”

Hen snorts, mouthing ‘smooth’ at Eddie before heading into the kitchen area to make herself a cup of coffee. She only gets as far as replacing the coffee filter when the alarm suddenly sounds overhead. They’re all heading for the stairs in an instant, leaving everything behind in the loft as they go.

Well, almost everything.

Eddie’s mind strays to brilliant blue eyes and a bruise-like birthmark as he jumps into the fire truck.

“Why is this so hard?”

Eddie stares at his darkened phone screen before tapping his finger against it. When he does, Buck’s profile lights up the otherwise dark room. He’s spent close to an hour on the app, finger ready to swipe right on Buck, before chickening out, letting the phone lock itself and then repeating the process all over again.

There are people out there who use dating apps with ease and it’s apparent to Eddie that he’s not one of them. He probably should’ve seen this coming as soon as he asked Hen for help setting up his profile, but he didn’t. He had foolishly assumed that creating his profile was the final hurdle he needed to get past before putting himself back out there in the dating world. He didn’t take into consideration the fact that there was still one last hurdle to get past - actually swiping right on someone.

It sounds completely innocuous when it’s put that way - swiping right. It’s nothing more than a quick motion, a movement that can be done in the blink eye.

For Eddie though, it’s more than that. For him, it’s the equivalent of letting someone know you like them and hoping that they feel the same. It’s a position that Eddie hasn’t been in in years and, now that he’s stepped back into it, the ground has become unsteady beneath his feet.

But it’s time, it’s been time. If he doesn’t now, when will he?

“Fuck it.”

With a bout of confidence that wells up from an unknown source somewhere deep within him, he unlocks his phone and finally swipes right.

The action alone is enough to make Eddie smile triumphantly. He did it. He didn’t think he could, but he did and now -

You’ve matched!

The words on his screen are accompanied by two small circles - one that has Eddie’s profile picture and the other has Buck’s. It must be the app’s way of letting him know what him and his match will look like together, but all it’s done is send Eddie’s heart rate spiking. He’s been so focused on the steps that needed to be taken to put himself out in the dating world again that he didn’t stop to think about what would come after that.

In this case, that ‘after’ means sending a message to the person he’s matched with.

“Shit.”

“Daddy?”

Eddie puts his phone down right away, screen facing down so that he can offer up all of his attention to his son. They’re sitting at the table working on a project for one of Chris’s classes and, although Chris swore that he could handle it on his own, Eddie chose to sit across from him and offer up some moral support. There aren’t too many days where he can just sit and be in his son’s company, so he figured he’d take advantage of the opportunity today. “Yeah, Chris?”

“Are you mad at your phone?”

“I- what?”

“You were looking at it like this.” Chris pushes his eyebrows together with the tips of his pointer fingers and turns his lips down in an exaggerated pout. Something tells Eddie he didn’t look exactly like that, but maybe that’s how obvious his mood is to his son. And here Eddie was thinking that he was good at keeping his emotions under lock and key. “You only make that face when you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

And he’s not, at least not per se. He’s mostly just aggravated at himself and his inability to type up a simple message.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chris asks earnestly. It’s done in such a way that Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s something he definitely cannot take credit for teaching his son. Not him, someone who makes it a point to bury his feelings so deep beneath the surface that it would take at least a full day of digging to actually reach. “Carla always tells me that it’s good to talk about my feelings instead of letting them bubble inside me.”

“Carla’s right,” Eddie admits. He wishes there had been someone out there to tell him that when he was younger. It would’ve been refreshing to hear in comparison to his father’s motto of keeping everything bottled up inside where no one can see it.

“So, why are you mad, daddy?”

Chris’s head is tilted just so and it makes it impossible for Eddie to tell him anything other than the truth. Or at least a version of the truth that’s appropriate for Chris’s ears. “I made a new friend recently and I’m trying to figure out what to say to him.

“Oh!” Chris is excited about this, something that's apparent to Eddie after years of learning how to read his son. It might’ve been hard for him to really decipher his son’s words and actions upon returning from overseas, but Eddie found his bearings over time. For example, if not for Chris’s voice, Eddie would be able to deduce his son’s excitement from the red in the apple of cheeks and the flailing of his limbs. “That’s easy. You just say, ‘hi’.”

“Hi?”

“Yeah, what else would you say?”

His son makes a very valid point and Eddie feels a little foolish for not thinking of that himself.

“When’d you get so smart, kid?”

Chris’s answering grin is bright as he picks up his pencil to get back to his project. “I’ve always been smart.”

Eddie laughs before grabbing his phone, unlocking it and opening the app where an introduction is waiting for him. There’s no world where he would've considered typing a message to an almost stranger after a conversation with his son, but who cares. He’s tired of overthinking things.

He types up the short message quickly, hitting send before he has a chance to second guess himself.

Eddie (6:42pm): hi

Buck (6:43pm): hey! :)

“Carla send you a cute picture of Chris again?”

Dazed, Eddie glances up and finds Bobby staring back at him. “Huh?”

“Picture of Chris?” Bobby asks, pointing at Eddie’s phone. “You’ve been smiling at your screen for the past five minutes.”

“Oh uh yeah.” Eddie is quick to switch over to his photos app and pull up a picture that he had taken of Chris at the park yesterday. His captain will be none the wiser of when it was actually taken. “The two of them went to the park today since Chris had a half-day,” he explains as he holds his phone out for Bobby to see.

Bobby’s eyes light up immediately. It’s a reaction that Eddie’s grown accustomed to whenever Chris is involved. There’s no denying just how cute his son is.

Eddie waits until later, after Bobby has gone back to his office and no one else is around, to open the dating app that he spends a fair amount of time on these days. And to think, only a week ago he was asking for help on how to use the app.

Eddie (3:02pm): my boss called me out for smiling like an idiot at my phone

Eddie (3:02pm): I’m mortified

Buck (3:03pm): hi mortified! i’m buck!

Eddie shakes his head, biting the corner of his lip to keep from laughing.

Eddie (3:04pm): you’re the worst

Buck (3:07pm): if I was the worst would you really be smiling like an idiot at your phone because of me?

Eddie (3:09pm): I never said that YOURE the reason I was smiling at my phone

Buck (3:10pm): you haven’t denied it yet either ;)

Eddie stares off into space, trying to find the words he needs to send a message he should’ve sent ages ago. It’s just that talking to Buck these past two weeks has been fun, easy, and he never found the right time to bring up the fact that he has a son. Maybe if they had met in person, it’s something that would’ve been mentioned much sooner, but it’s different since the two of them are only messaging each other. Eddie is sure that there must be some kind of etiquette about telling someone you’ve met online that you’re a single parent, he just hasn’t figured out what it is just yet.

But, as he watches his son whoop happily as he flies down the playground’s slide, Eddie knows it’s time to be upfront with Buck and tell him. Better now than further down the line, especially if Buck has a problem with Eddie having a kid.

He really hopes he doesn’t.

Eddie (5:42pm): I have to tell you something.

Eddie thrums his fingers against his phone and tells himself that the way his stomach swoops has everything to do with the burrito he had for lunch today.

He doesn’t have to wait long for Buck’s response.

Buck (5:44pm): Is this when I find out that the pictures on your profile aren’t actually yours?

Buck (5:44pm): I knew it was too good to be true

Buck (5:45pm): Who’s THAT good-looking and easy to talk to???

Buck (5:46pm): I wonder if I can get on Catfish with this story

Buck (5:47pm): I’ve always wanted to be friends with nev

Eddie thinks that maybe he would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so nervous. He types out the message quickly, but between checking on Christopher again and his own nerves, it takes him longer to hit send.

Eddie (5:55pm): I have a son.

Buck (5:56pm): Cool! How old is he?

Eddie’s eyes widen, it can’t be that easy. Can it?

Eddie (5:57pm): he’s 9

Buck (5:58pm): that’s such a fun age!

And, because apparently Eddie doesn’t know to not look a gift horse in the mouth, he shares his disbelief with Buck.

Eddie (6:00pm): you’re okay with the fact that i have a kid?

Buck (6:01pm): i love kids

Buck (6:02pm): i’m a 1st grade teacher

Buck (6:02pm): did i never mention that?

He most certainly did not. Although, now that Eddie thinks about it, he never told Buck what he does for a living either. He should probably do that.

It’s interesting, the details that don’t come to the surface versus those that do in the world of online dating. Eddie’s sure that, had he met Buck in person, them talking about what they did for a living would’ve been one of the first things to come up in a conversation.

Eddie (6:04pm): you didn’t but i’m glad i know now

Eddie (6:05pm): i’m a firefighter by the way

Buck (6:06pm): you’re kidding me

Eddie (6:07pm): nope

Buck (6:08pm): so you’re hot, easy to talk to AND a firefighter

Eddie’s face heats up at the casual mention of his own attractiveness. Apparently being complimented via text makes him react the same way he would’ve had he heard the compliment in person. Add that to the list of things he’s learned thanks to the world of online dating.

Buck (6:09pm): please do not be alarmed if i don't respond for the next hour or so, i need time to properly digest all of this information

Buck (6:34pm): totally unrelated question, but if i set my apartment on fire right now will you come save me?

“I know that look.”

Eddie startles, almost dropping his phone in the process. When he seeks out the person who has caught him off guard, he’s surprised to see May. What surprises him even more is how the knowing look on her face is an exact match for the one he’s seen Athena wear countless times before.

It’s unsettling.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with the boys?”

Eddie and Chris already had plans for a movie night when he overheard Hen complaining about her babysitter canceling on her and Karen, thus leaving them without anyone to watch Denny on date night. Eddie, knowing that Chris wouldn’t mind the extra company, told Hen that Denny was more than welcome to join him and Chris for movie night. Then, because Bobby was sitting right next to him, Eddie extended the invitation to Harry and May as well.

It’s how he ended up here in his home on a Friday night with three young boys and May.

“I was, but they’re thirsty so I told them I’d come by and see what’s taking you so long.” May walks a little further into the kitchen and leans against the counter. “I wasn’t expecting you to be distracted by whoever it is you're texting and obviouslycrushing on.”

Eddie splutters. “I-what?” He can’t remember the last time he was called out for having a ‘crush’ on someone. The term itself sounds so juvenile. “I wasn’t texting and I’m not ‘crushing on’ anyone.”

May rolls her eyes. “You might be able to fool an adult with that argument, but not me. I saw the heart eyes you were directing at your phone as soon as I walked in here. So, can we skip past the part where you try to deny it?”

Eddie’s jaw falls open at May’s bluntness. He really thought he was in for an easy and fun night with the kids and instead he’s being called out by a teenager. If this is what he has to look forward to when Chris gets older, Eddie will start looking into ways to keep his son nine-years-old forever.

As if conjured by his father’s thoughts, Chris yells, “daddy! Are you coming back with our hot chocolates?”

Eddie moves to pick up the tray of mugs he was planning to bring to his living room before getting sidetracked but May beats him to it. She purposely takes two mugs off of the tray, leaving them behind on the counter. “I’ll take these to the boys, get the movie started, and then we’re gonna talk.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument and all Eddie can do is stare at her as she walks away. He’s always known better than to get on Athena’s bad side and, tonight, he’s learned that the same can be said for May.

Accepting that there’s no escaping what he’s sure is about to be a very thorough interrogation, Eddie picks up the two mugs May left behind and brings them to the table before sitting down. He’s tempted to message Buck while he waits for her to return but messaging him earlier was what got him into this situation to begin with.

“Okay,” May says as soon as she returns, taking the seat across from Eddie and wrapping her hands around her mug. “Spill.”

“Spill?”

“Yes, spill. Who’s got you looking at your phone like a lovestruck teenager?

Eddie’s grateful he wasn’t taking a sip of his drink when May asked that question because he might’ve choked on it. Lovestruck teenager, really?

“Just someone I’ve been talking to for a couple of weeks now.”

“And?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “And what?”

“Can’t you be a little more detailed?” May leans forward, forearms resting on the table as her inquisitive brown eyes lock on Eddie. “When did you two meet? Where? Are they cute? Can I see a picture of them if you have one? Have they met the team yet?”

Eddie’s head is spinning from all the questions being thrown at him, but what really sticks out to him is May’s use of the gender-neutral terms ‘they’ and ‘them’. He’s grown so used to everyone around him assuming he’s straight, that it barely phases him when they use female pronouns. But here May is decidedly not doing that.

“They? Them?”

“You’ve never explicitly said what your sexual orientation is, and it’d be wrong of me to assume,” she explains, shrugging as if there’s nothing out of the ordinary with her reasoning. It’s that, her blasé attitude towards something people barely put any thought into, that cracks Eddie’s resolve.

“His name is Evan, but he goes by Buck.”

Eddie goes into more detail about the man that he’s been talking to, answering all of May’s questions about him. The experience makes him feel a little like his abuela when she sits at the dinner table gossiping with relatives.

“This is him,” Eddie tells her, sliding her phone across the table to her so that she can look at Buck’s pictures.

“Oh!” May exclaims, covering her mouth at the last second to keep from being too loud and drawing the boys’ attention away from their movie. “He’s cute.” She swipes through a few of Buck’s pictures. “Really cute. You two would look good together.”

Eddie does not puff out his chest a little bit at the compliment.

“Have you guys exchanged numbers yet?”

“No, why would we? We can just talk on the app.”

May shakes her head as she hands Eddie back his phone. “That’s the next step of online dating. You’ve gotta transition away from the app and, after messaging on it nonstop for three weeks straight, I think it’s time.”

Her statement lingers in Eddie’s mind later that night after all the kids have been picked up and Chris is tucked in and asleep. Honestly, he never even thought about asking Buck for his number so they could text each other instead of having to rely on the app. It would definitely be much easier to remain in contact that way and Eddie won’t have to hide his phone every time he opens the app to keep anyone from seeing it. The messages app is much more inconspicuous.

Eddie (9:34pm): what are your thoughts on exchanging phone numbers?

Buck (9:40pm): i thought you’d never ask :)

Eddie is walking into the station when his phone chimes. The sound is followed shortly thereafter by a second chime. He’s carrying a tray full of drinks, having woken up early and in a good enough mood to stop by the team’s favorite coffee shop to pick something up for Bobby, Chim, Hen, and himself. The tray itself isn’t all that heavy, but Eddie doesn’t trust himself to carry it in one hand. If his friends found out that he had purchased them all drinks, only to end up spilling it right before their shift began, he’d never hear the end of it.

At the same time, there’s only one person who would be texting Eddie at this time. It’s the same person who he’s continued to talk to nonstop since they exchanged phone numbers.

Although him and Buck had already gotten into the habit of messaging one another through a dating site, things somehow feel different now that they’ve switched to texting. More intimate. More real.

With this on his mind, it’s easy for Eddie to decide to take the risk - balance the tray in one hand so he can use the other hand to retrieve his phone.

Buck (8:50am): my kids are going to be the death of me

Buck (8:51am): if I had known I was going to die today I would’ve at least dressed better

Buck’s flair for dramatics is a trait that Eddie learned about the younger man when they first began messaging each other. It’s thoroughly entertaining.

Eddie (8:54am): what happened?

Eddie (8:54am): just asking so i can give the police the correct info when the murder investigation begins

In place of a text, Eddie receives a picture. In the background, there’s a chalkboard that says ‘You’re the best, Mr. Buckley!’ and on a large desk which must belong to Buck, there are various cards and what looks like a container with cupcakes in it. Eddie would zoom in to confirm this assumption, but it’s a little hard to do so with one hand while walking up the stairs.

Eddie (8:56am): why are you the best?

Buck (8:57am): i’m thoroughly offended that you even have to ask that

Buck (8:58am): (it’s teacher appreciation day)

“Are those for us?”

Eddie stops abruptly. The drinks in the tray tilt precariously, but Chim steps forward to save them with a steadying hand.

“Well someone’s distracted this morning.”

“No I’m not,” Eddie argues, locking his phone and stepping around Chim so he can carefully place the drinks on the counter.

Chim’s there a moment later, grabbing the mixed berry smoothie he’s been trying to convince his coworkers to drink instead of coffee. He takes a long sip before leaning against the counter and studying Eddie. “Distracted and defensive. Something’s definitely going on with you.”

In place of answering and implicating himself, Eddie grabs his coffee and takes a sip. It’s nowhere near as good as the one Abuela makes for him at her place, but it has caffeine and that's what matters most. He’ll gladly drink anything that’ll help him get through a 24-hour shift.

Chim stares at Eddie a little too intently for his liking, but Eddie stands his ground and doesn’t look away. Looking away would mean admitting defeat and that’s not something Eddie is prepared to do, even if Chim’s observation is correct.

“There’s something different about you these days. And I intend to find out what it is.”

It’s definitely a threat, but it’s one that Eddie can handle especially since Hen and Bobby unwittingly come to his rescue only a few seconds later. They collect their drinks from the counter and thank Eddie for them before Hen engages Chim in a conversation. Bobby heads in the direction of the fridge, which temporarily allots Eddie some time to himself. He intends to use it wisely.

Eddie (9:03am): you definitely deserve the appreciation

Eddie (9:03am): those kids are lucky to have you as their teacher :)

Buck’s reply doesn’t come until much later in the day, but that doesn’t stop Eddie from laughing when he sees it.

Buck (4:10pm): I read your message during lunch with some of the other teachers and got mocked for my reaction to it

Buck (4:12pm): and no I will not tell you what that reaction was. you don’t deserve to know

It’s late when Eddie finally gets home. Christopher is spending the night at Abuela's, which means it’s also silent as Eddie slowly makes his way towards his bedroom.

He hates it.

The silence reminds him of the last call from his shift. A neighbor had called in about a very loud argument going on in the house next to theirs. As soon as the 118 arrived at the scene and began gearing up, the sound of two gunshots pierced through the night air and threw everyone into high alert. The all-clear was given at some point thereafter and, when Eddie and the rest of the time were finally allowed inside of the house, they were met with silence.

Two DOAs. Nothing they could do to help either person.

Eddie changes out of his clothes on autopilot, thankful that he had the forethought to shower at the station. Now that he’s home, all he wants to do is crawl under the covers and forget about the horrors of the world for a little while.

He has just pulled back his covers and laid down in bed when his phone vibrates. It’s not until it happens a second time, that he checks to see who’s texted him.

Buck (10:45pm): pretty sure I just saw you and your team on the news?

Buck (10:45pm): could be wrong but I figured I’d ask

Right, the news. Eddie forgets that, sometimes, being a first responder means ending up on television. It’s a part of the job he could happily do without.

Eddie (10:50pm): yeah that was us

Buck (10:51pm): are you okay?

Without thinking, Eddie’s fingers tap out his response - yes. Right before hitting send though, he stops himself. No, he’s not okay. Not really.

It’s late, he’s tired, and he doesn’t feel like being a liar. Not tonight. It’s why he erases his original response and types a new one.

Eddie (10:52pm): no

Eddie puts his phone down beside him and closes his eyes. As soon as he does, the image of the dead man and woman from earlier infiltrates his mind. In comparison to everything he saw during his time in Afghanistan, the crime scene he witnessed today was nothing. But it’s the fact that it was a crime scene at all is what really got to him. Death was the norm overseas. It shouldn’t be the norm here, at home.

What’s the point of going off to war in the hopes of making the world a better place when violence can still be found everywhere you turn?

Eddie’s phone vibrates and, at first, he assumes it’s another text. When it continues vibrating, Eddie realizes that someone is calling him. Considering how late it is, he assumes it’s his grandma and is quick to pick up the electronic device. He’s about to accept the call when he sees the name at the top of the screen - Buck.

They’ve been messaging each other for over a month now and it’s become such an ingrained part of Eddie’s daily routine that it’s hard for him to imagine a time when that wasn’t the case. There have been moments where he’s felt like maybe they’ve been taking things a little too slowly and that, by now, other people would’ve met already. Or perhaps even gone on a date or two. But Eddie is in no rush and he’s been more than happy to keep things moving at this pace.

But now, here Buck is taking things another step further and catching Eddie completely off-guard. Exchanging phone numbers was one thing. Talking on the phone is something else entirely.

His phone is still buzzing in his hand and Eddie stares at it. The alternative to not answering this call is to continue lying in bed and being mocked by his overly quiet home. The latter is somehow scarier than the former.

“Hello?” The voice, Buck, says as soon as Eddie answers. It’s weird that Eddie can list off so many random details about Buck - what he does for a living, what his favorite taco place is, what kind of music he listens to when he’s in a bad mood, where he grew up - but he’s never actually heard him speak. Not until now.

“Hi, Buck.”

For a few seconds, all Eddie can hear is Buck’s breathing on the other end. Then, “I hope it’s okay that I called. It’s just, I saw the news about that call you were on and then you said you weren’t okay and just texting you back didn’t feel right. But maybe this is weird, and I should’ve asked you if it was okay before doing it. Sorry. My sister says I should work on my impulse control.”

Buck rambles when he’s nervous. That’s good to know.

“It’s okay,” Eddie tells him, smiling when he hears Buck’s sigh of relief. “I’m glad you decided to call.”

“You are?”

Eddie pulls the covers up to under his chin and turns, allowing him to wedge the phone between his ear and the pillow. “Yeah. It was too quiet in my house.”

“Christopher?”

“At Abuela’s for the night.”

Buck hums and Eddie relishes in the sound. It makes him regret not transitioning into phone calls with Buck sooner.

“Did you… want to talk about it?”

Eddie knows the ‘it’ that Buck’s referring to and also knows it’s that last thing he wants to be having a conversation about. “No.”

He doesn’t mean for the word to come out so harshly, but it does that of its own accord.

“Oh.”

“I’m just not really up for talking.”

“Right, of course.” Buck says in a rush. “You just got off of a crazy shift. You don’t need someone bothering you when all you really want is to rest.”

And, now that he’s said more, Eddie understands what Buck thinks Eddie meant when he said he’s not up for talking. “No no no.” He wants to correct this misunderstanding now before it leads to Buck hanging up the phone and leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts again. He’s not ready to stop hearing Buck’s voice, not now. Having just this small taste of it isn’t enough. “I just meant I don’t really want to talk, but if you do, I’m all ears.”

“Are you sure?” His voice is timid, small. “I talk a lot.”

“I’m sure.”

There’s rustling on Buck’s end and Eddie wonders if the other man is getting into a more comfortable position too. “Let me tell you about what my first graders did to me today.”

It’s almost two in the morning when Eddie’s phone rings. He groans, rolling over onto his side and trying to ignore the loud intrusion altogether.

“Shut that off!” Someone in the bunk room calls out, and it’s that that fully wakes Eddie up. He’s the only one on shift that keeps his phone volume on at all times, just in case a call comes through from whoever is taking care of Christopher.

He scrambles out of his bunk, presses his phone against his chest in an attempt to dull the noise, and all but runs out of the bunk room. His eyes are still half-closed when he answers the call. “Hello?”

“Eddie.”

“Buck?” There’s a choked sob on the other end of the line. The sound is amplified in the stillness of the station around him, and it pierces Eddie’s heart. “What's wrong?”

“I-” Buck gulps back air and Eddie reaches his free hand out, as if his touch will somehow reach Buck instead of the empty space around him. “I can’t sleep.”

Eddie is sure there’s more to the story than that, but it’s not his place to pry. Only a few nights ago, Buck offered Eddie the distraction he needed before going to bed. It’s only fair that he returns that favor.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

That seems to bring some of Buck’s vocabulary back to him. His voice sounds raw when he says, “I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I was up anyways,” Eddie lies, making his way up to the station’s loft and sitting down on the sofa. It’s a little odd being up here with all the lights off and no one else around him. Odd, but peaceful.

“Let me tell you about some of the calls we had today.”

Eddie’s not sure just how much time has passed, but he’s in the middle of telling Buck a story about a woman who got stuck in her date’s window when he’s interrupted by soft snores. He smiles, thoughts drifting to the image of Buck asleep in bed with his phone still in his hand.

Eddie ends the call then and wills himself to get off of the sofa so he can catch at least another hour of sleep in the bunk room. The pull of sleep is far stronger than he’s expecting it to be and, instead of getting up like he should, he leans further back on the sofa and closes his eyes.

When he wakes up later, it’s with a dull ache in his neck, a small blanket tossed over his body, and two new messages from Buck.

Buck (6:40am): I’m sorry that i kept you up so late

Buck (6:52am): thank you for answering my call

Eddie doesn’t need anyone to tell him what the next step to take with Buck is.

Before he can second guess himself or chicken out, he dials Buck’s number.

Buck answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Eddie!” Buck’s enthusiasm would be obvious to anyone who can hear him. It’s an observation Eddie made early on when they switched to daily phone calls. Whereas Eddie keeps his feelings as close to his chest as possible, Buck is happy to put them on full display. So much so that those same emotions always find a way to bleed into his voice. “I didn’t think we were going to be talking until later tonight?”

“Will you go out with me this Friday night?” Belatedly, Eddie adds, “like on a date?”

Eddie can’t remember the last time he’s had to ask anyone out, but that’s no excuse for forgetting just how nerve-wracking it is to wait for an answer.

Time loses its meaning as Eddie holds his breath, waiting for Buck to respond. It might be seconds but could also be minutes later when Buck finally speaks.

“Yeah I’d-I’d really like that.”

A bubble of laughter threatens to creep past Eddie’s lips, but he manages to keep it at bay. He can’t keep from smiling though. “Cool. I’ll text you the details.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #my writing

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firstdegreefangirl · 4 years

Text

Love Starts With a Toothbrush

Word Count: 3772

Original Pub Date: 5 June 2020

Relationships: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Author’s Notes: I really should be banned from listening to country radio in the car, but this is completely and utterly inspired by Brad Paisley’s song “Toothbrush.” If you haven’t listened to that yet, check it out here

Read on ao3 here

Tagging: @theycallmebobbob @rebeccaofsbfarm @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @meloingly

Buck looks at himself in the mirror, pondering his own reflection and the way the white foam covers his chin before breaking his own eye contact and tipping his chin back. He focuses his gaze on his jawline as he pulls the razor over his skin, watching the blades slice through the light stubble and push the shaving cream out of the way.

His touch is light, his strokes are careful, and he can’t think of a time he’s shaved more carefully since he was 17 and half-convinced that he’d slit his own throat with a Bic safety razor identical to the one he’s holding now.

The stakes tonight are equally high, just as life-or-death, but in an entirely different way. He thinks about it as he rinses the razor, flicks his thumb downward across the blades to clear any stuck hairs from between them. He’s going out for dinner with Eddie, just like they’ve done probably hundreds of times in the time they’ve been friends. This time is different though, in the way Eddie couldn’t look him in the eye when he asked, the way he’d tentatively added “... it could be a date, if you’re OK with that,” when he’d mentioned an Indian restaurant he’d been meaning to try.

Buck wonders if Eddie is feeling the same amount of pressure he is tonight, if he’d tried on half a dozen shirts before settling on his favorite go-to, then realized that he needed to take the shirt off and shaved before he gets dressed.

Part of him hopes that Eddie isn’t so uncertain about the night they’re going to share, hopes that he’ll have enough bravado for them both. But he also wants this to mean as much to Eddie as it means to him.

Because it means everything, he realizes as he drags a wet washcloth across his skin, lets the warm water clean the last dregs of shaving cream from his face and rinses it out. He leans up over the sink, examining his skin closely to make sure he didn’t miss any stray hairs. As blond as he is, it’s not like they’ll show up, but he still wants to make sure everything is perfect tonight.

Satisfied with the shave, he shakes the razor dry and sets it back in the medicine cabinet, reaching for the tube of toothpaste on the shelf above.

He squirts a blob of the mint-flavored gel onto his toothbrush and sticks it into his mouth. Dental health isn’t usually such a focus for Buck; most of the time he squishes the foam around his mouth and spits as soon as every tooth is mostly brushed.

Tonight, though, he scrubs every tooth carefully: front, back and top. He angles the brush down to get his gum line, and even gags himself when he brushes his tongue. It might be the first and only time he’s actually brushed for two minutes, and he briefly wonders how weird it would be for him to call his dentist in the morning and brag.

Very weird, he decides as he plucks a soft blue paper cup from the dispenser on the counter and fills it with water to rinse his mouth out. As the foam swirls down the drain, he rubs his favorite aftershave across his hands and his hands over his face, wincing at the sting against the freshly shaven skin.

It’s the scent he saves for special occasions; he can’t remember the last time he wore it, the last time something felt important enough to warrant the high-quality leather notes that pair perfectly with the fresh citrus scent of his best cologne.

He grabs his shirt from where he’s hung it on the shower door handle and shrugs it on. The buttons are straightforward, but take just enough time that he decides he needs to run a comb lightly through the edges of his hair again.

When that’s done, he looks down at his phone. 7:28, the screen reads, and Eddie is supposed to pick him up at 7:30. He makes it halfway down the steps, though, before he’s turning around and ducking back into the bathroom long enough to swish some mouthwash around and rinse it down the sink.

It’ll probably wear off before they’re even through eating, but hey, who can blame a guy for trying?

Buck doesn’t think about it again until Eddie is walking him up to the front door at the end of the night. But the hope that the mouthwash is lingering on his breath is his last coherent thought as Eddie backs him up against his doorbell and leans in for what has to be the longest single kiss Buck has ever had.

They’re both breathing hard when Eddie breaks away, lingering just long enough to murmur a ‘goodnight’ against his lips before he walks away, leaving Buck standing there in a daze, hoping he’s not imagining the minty taste Eddie left behind in his mouth.

Two years later, to the day, they’re dropping Chris off at Pepa’s, promising to pick him up on Sunday night and waving from Eddie’s truck as they back down the driveway. Buck looks at Eddie as they turn the corner, sees the way he’s worrying his bottom lip.

“Hey, you’re sure about this? We can go pick him up, bring him with us. Or ditch the plan altogether, do the big ceremony in a few months.”

“No, I’m sure. I want to marry you tonight. And I like the idea of that being just for us.” Eddie sighs, and Buck wishes he believed him. “I just … feel bad for lying about the double shifts all weekend, telling Bobby we needed the days off for a ‘family thing.’”

“This is a family thing. It’s us, becoming a family. Legally.” Buck rests his hand on Eddie’s hand, wrapped around the gearshift.

“We’re already family, Buck.”

“I know, but this makes it official. And we’ll talk to Bobby and Athena when we get back, see if we can borrow their backyard for a big reception. Everything else can be for everyone else, but this? This here, our wedding? It’s for us.”

Eddie nods and releases his lip.

“Yeah. You … you’re right. Pre-wedding jitters, am I right?”

They laugh together, relaxing as Eddie drives them a couple hours up the coast. He’s not sure where they’re going, taking directions from Buck, who’s reading off of a list of turns he’s scribbled on the back of a junk mail credit card application.

He’d taken every other aspect of this to the n-th degree, as soon as Eddie suggested that they stop trying to plan the perfect wedding for their friends and family and just have the perfect wedding for them. Just the two of them, wearing the best suits they already owned and brand new matching ties, standing somewhere beautiful and private to pledge their lives to each other.

Buck had looked for close to a week before finding the perfect spot: a tiny beachfront town with a little wedding chapel. He’d found the referral on a same-sex wedding forum, with a litany of stories and photos from couples praising the picturesque waters and friendly staff, willing to personalize intimate ceremonies for a reasonable cost.

All he had asked Eddie to do was make sure their bags were packed and pick him a ring. Everything else was a surprise, from Eddie’s brushed steel wedding band with its fine gold stripe pressed into the pocket of Buck’s jeans to the three tiny crystals on the tie clips: each of their birthstones and Christopher’s in the middle.

The ceremony is everything they could have imagined; every last detail Buck planned went off without a hitch. And he couldn’t help but privately noticing that the officiant who pronounced them husband and husband resembled the surviving half of the elderly gay couple he’d met on the car accident scene only a couple of months after Eddie came into his life.

Mitchell, he’s pretty sure.

It’s coincidence, he’s sure, but it feels fitting nonetheless. Even if it was still over a year before their first date, talking to that man, hearing him tell Buck that a truly lasting love is made, not found, was a pivotal moment in his relationship with Eddie. It was the first time he let himself consider making something more than a friendship with him, so it feels fitting that Mitchell would visit him again today, give him a sign that he’s in the right place, marrying the right person for him.

Not that he needed a sign, not after he saw the way Eddie’s eyes watered when he ran his finger across Buck’s tie, understanding the gems the moment he saw them.

He knew he was making the right choice.

Even if he did have to go all the way down to the lobby of their hotel that night, get a couple of flimsy plastic toothbrushes from the desk agent.

“Really, Eddie? The only thing you had to do was pack our bags. You got the suits, you got my shampoo, but you left our toothbrushes on the counter?” He rolled his eyes as Eddie shook the toiletries bag open on the bedspread, no toothbrushes to be found.

Of course, Eddie was fresh out of the shower, so it fell on Buck to go downstairs, sheepishly explain that he hadn’t packed for their trip (even if he did preen a little bit when he said ‘my husband was in charge of the luggage,’ the new title feeling perfectly at home on his tongue) and ask if they had any for sale.

The clerk had come back with two barely opaque white-handled brushes that Buck is pretty sure he could have broken in half easier than a pencil. But they’re free, and they’re better than nothing, so he smiles gratefully at her and accepts the brushes and packets of toothpaste.

After their teeth are brushed, when Eddie is tucked in and waiting for Buck to join him in bed for their first night as a married couple, he snaps a quick picture of the cheap toothbrushes.

It’s the sort of story that will make a good memory years from now, he knows already, and he never wants to forget this moment. He never wants to forget the way he feels two days later, either, packing up to leave and slipping the disposable toothbrushes into the bottom of his bag, tucking them away to be remembered and laughed about later.

Their love wasn’t found; they made it between toothbrushes and minty fresh kisses along the way.

The first day off Buck and Eddie have together as husbands is spent boxing Buck’s loft and moving his life into Eddie’s home.

Their home.

They’d talked about it, over breakfast on the beach the day after their wedding, thrown around the idea of buying a new house, a place that they picked together and decorated as a family. But ultimately, they decided that Eddie’s place was almost perfectly located between the station and Christopher’s school, it was already accessible for him, and Buck has long felt at home in Eddie’s living room.

He didn’t need a new house, he just needed Eddie in his bed and Christopher right down the hall, every night for the rest of his life.

So he’s the only one moving, a whopping 17 minutes from where he had lived. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Especially when Eddie suggests redecorating after Buck gets settled, giving the house a new feel for their new lives together. It’s just turning to summer, the days growing warmer and longer enough that they can start with the backyard. Eddie puts out grass seed, plants a couple of twigs that will hopefully grow into lemon and orange trees.

Buck takes it upon himself to watch a dozen YouTube videos and visit the hardware store, borrowing Eddie’s truck to haul cords of lumber home with the promise of a picket fence around the back of the house.

He’s never built a fence before, but Bobby lends him a small table saw, spends an afternoon standing in the yard and teaching him how to use it before leaving him to finish building his fence. As with everything, Buck throws himself completely into the project; every spare moment he’s got is enough time to cut a couple of boards, drill a few holes.

It’s one of the most fun projects he’s ever embarked on, especially when Christopher starts joining him in the backyard, plopping down on the fresh grass with a book and reading out loud to him, or telling him stories from his latest sleepover. Sometimes, when he’s got a brand new board, all 10-feet of it to control against the vibration of the saw blade, he’ll ask Chris for a hand. He’s got a tiny pair of safety goggles, bulky enough to go over his regular glasses, and kid-sized work gloves, and he’s always excited to help hold the long end of the board, tiptoeing forward as Buck pushes his end across the saw blade.

Digging the post holes is its own kind of challenge, especially when driving his foot against the top of the shovel makes the pain in his leg flare up. But for those moments, Eddie is there. He’s always watching Buck out the kitchen window or from the back deck; Buck can feel his gaze following him around the yard, especially when the high heat of the summer gets the best of him and he pulls his T-shirt off.

But when his leg start to hurt, almost like Eddie can feel the pain too, he appears beside Buck, pulls the shovel gently from his hands.

“Here, I got it,” he says, squeezing Buck’s arm gently. “I’ll dig for a bit.” When Buck starts to protest, tries to tell Eddie that he’s fine, he can keep working, Eddie raises an eyebrow. “I know you can, but it’s almost lunchtime, and if you don’t cook, I’ll have to.”

They both know it’s a cop-out. Eddie can handle sandwiches and pouring lemonade from the gallon jug in the fridge. But it means that Buck can take a break, sneak back to the bathroom and swallow a couple Advil when no one is looking, without having to admit that his physical limitations stop him sooner than they did before his myriad of near-death experiences.

It takes a few months, but then their fence is up, pine boards marking the edges of a backyard that Christopher keeps mentioning is probably big enough that they could get a dog now, since he’d have somewhere to run.

“Maybe for your birthday, Superman.” Eddie ruffles his hair, shares a knowing glance with Buck. The three of them admire the handiwork for a few minutes longer, then Buck jumps and pulls Eddie’s truck keys out of his pocket.

“Ooh, hang on, I forgot the last part. Chris, you up for a trip to the hardware store? Think you can keep me on track?”

“Sure! Dad, I gotta go make sure Bucky doesn’t get lost.” With that, they’re gone, chasing each other out the new gate and around the house. Buck hears Eddie’s confused shout, and feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He doesn't have to look at the message to know that Eddie has sent him a long string of question marks, but he and Chris have a mission.

They’re back 45 minutes later, Buck hauling a five-gallon bucket in each hand as he follows Christopher around the back gate. He hears the back door open as he’s taking the plastic sack from Chris and pulling out paint trays and rollers.

“Alright, what’d we talk about, kiddo?”

“Dad! Buck says I can help paint, but only if you wrap me up in a trash bag first so I don’t get messy!”

Eddie laughs but leads Chris into the house. They emerge a few minutes later, Chris covered in a trash bag with sloppy holes cut into the bottom for his head and arms. The three of them spend the afternoon painting, and most of the next day too, but when they’re finished, the picket fence is a crisp white, contrasting starkly with the grass around it.

Except the parts of the lawn that got their own coat of white paint, but Buck can’t bring himself to care. The grass will grow, he or Eddie will cut it short and no one will be the wiser. And they’ll still have their backyard, with the white picket fence that he built, for his family.

He’s pretty sure this sort of thing is the best that his life is ever going to get, that nothing could ever top the feeling of standing here, Eddie’s arm around his waist and Chris leaning against their legs, admiring something they made together.

Buck grunts as he lifts their toddler out of the bathtub and wraps him in a towel.

“Jeez, you’re getting big, Trey.” He rubs the 4-year-old's hair dry and helps him tie the belt on a tiny camouflage-print bathrobe. “Alright, what’s next?”

“Brush teeth!” He shrieks with delight and grins at his papa.

“That’s right, let’s go brush your teeth with Daddy and Chris!” Buck scoops him up, without grunting this time since he can get a better angle to lift from, and carries him down the hallway to the master bathroom. Eddie and Christopher are already standing in front of the mirror, trying to untangle Chris’s curly hair enough that it’s not totally insufferable in the morning.

He’s 11 now, old enough that he can get most of it on his own, but there’s a patch at the back of his head that’s hard to reach, so Eddie helped him with that while Buck and Trey had a rubber duck war in the bathtub.

“Daddy! Time to brush teeth!” Trey grabs for the side of Eddie’s pants leg as Buck situates him on the step stool beside the counter. “You can help me?”

They’ve had Trey for almost two years now, and he’s always been very diplomatic about dividing his attention between Buck and Eddie. If Buck helps make his lunch, Eddie can sit with him while he eats. On the days that Eddie drops him off at preschool, he likes it best when Buck picks him up.

When Buck gives him a bath, Eddie helps brush his teeth.

“I sure can, kiddo. Chris, you’re all good. Get those pearly whites, bud.” He passes a tube of bubblegum-flavored toothpaste to his older son, watches him carefully squeeze a blob of it onto a blue toothbrush with a distinctive red ‘S’ logo on the handle. Christopher hands the tube back and jams the brush into his mouth while Eddie reaches for the smallest toothbrush in the cup.

Buck isn’t sure when it started, but somewhere along the way, all four of them started sharing a bedtime routine. Sure, that’s parenting, but this is a little bit more. The boys have their own bathroom, full of plastic boats and low-hanging towel bars, but still all four of them gather in Buck and Eddie’s bathroom at night to brush their teeth together.

He’s scrubbing across his own teeth as he thinks about it, white minty foam gathering at the corners of his mouth. When he catches Christopher looking at him, he turns his head and growls playfully, baring his teeth.

“No, Bucky! Don’t get me!” Chris’ toothbrush is still in his mouth, so the words are distorted and he sprays pinkish flecks all over the mirror when he cries out.

Buck laughs, splattering his own toothpaste foam to create some sort of abstract bathroom art that he knows Eddie will wipe away while he sees the boys down to their shared bedroom.

Trey leans back against Eddie’s hip, tipping his chin and opening his mouth.

“-Eddie, -addy!” He tries to say, without moving his jaw. ‘Ready, daddy!’ they both know it means, and Buck leans forward to spit as Eddie starts brushing carefully through their son’s mouth. He counts the teeth out loud, just like every night, even though the number hasn’t changed since six months after they welcomed him into their home.

Buck leans back upright, looking at his family in the mirror as he reaches around Chris to take a paper cup from the dispenser he brought with him when he moved in. He fills it with water, freezing when he sees the design on the side.

The water flows over the top of the cup, down his hand, and it’s enough to shake him from his stupor. It shouldn’t have surprised him; he’s the one who’d purchased the box of planet-themed bath cups, remembering how excited Christopher had been to be able to recite all nine planets in order. He's staring down at a smiling planet, Mars, according to the reddish label beside it.

Even if it were a surprise, there’s no reason that a Mars cup should stop him in his tracks like this. But he’s suddenly thinking of a different day, a different paper cup in a different bathroom. That cup was blue, plain blue, and he’d stood alone in the bathroom.

He remembers every detail, the sting of the aftershave and the way the mouthwash tingled against his gums. And he remembers everything that came after, too, right up to Eddie kissing him against his front door. He’d gone inside that night and imagined a future with Eddie and Christopher. But never, not even in his most elaborate fantasies had he dreamed of having all of this.

This is the most in love Buck has ever been, standing here in the bathroom with his family, watching Eddie hold a light-up toothbrush in one hand and a Jupiter cup in the other. He’s helping Trey spit into the sink – not onto the counter – and Buck feels his heart swell at the simple routine of it all. He puts his own toothbrush back into the cup and thanks his lucky stars for every moment like this, every night he gets to be a part of this. Every time life has caught him by surprise, every day that was better than the one before it, even when he hadn’t thought that would be possible.

There are four toothbrushes on his counter, three people at the center of his world, and he thinks it again, this is the best moment I’ve had in my life.

Because love, he’s come to learn, isn’t found in any of the obvious places to look.

Love starts with a toothbrush.

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