#on bucks pov

[lover-of-mine]

nothing safe is worth the drive

Pairing: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (911)

Word Count: 2,1k

And, sure, it took Buck way too long to realize what he was feeling. To name it. To try to understand it. But he's here now. And can't keep not doing something about it. So he's doing something about it. He's getting in the goddamn car. Who cares if it's almost midnight? Who cares if they're just out of a 24-hour shift? Who cares if he doesn't know for sure the answer he's gonna get? He's doing it. He's gonna say it. Put his feelings out in the world. Evan Buckley is in love with Eddie Diaz. And he's gonna tell him. or Buck decides he needs to confess his feelings and drives over in the middle of the night.

read it on ao3

[feelsforsterek]

[lonelychicago]

you started a riot in my mind heart.

[aesthetictarlos]

No one has ever called Tommy beautiful before. He's been called hot, sexy, attractive, that's for sure, especially by the guys who hit on him in clubs. Someone has even told him he was easy on the eyes or good-looking, and it's not like he didn't have mirrors at his place, but it was always nice hearing those words because he could use a boost of self-esteem here and there, especially in those bad days where he would look at himself in the mirror and saw that chubby young boy who got braces, too many unruly curls, and had to deal with bullies.

People call him cool and competent once they know what he does for a living and that's nice, too, but no one has ever called him beautiful. And it's not like he minds, he hasn't even thought about that until now.

Now that he's laying in bed with his boyfriend, after they made love for the first time (yeah, made love because what he and Evan just did is so, so different from the sex he was used to and he's also a romantic, sue him) and Evan is leaving the imprint of his fingers all over his face. First, Evan traces the outline of his eyebrows, then thumbs at the laugh lines around his eyes and grins softly before his index finger follows the slope of his nose, down to his cupid's bow, murmuring a soft "God, your lips are perfect." Tommy believes him, and sometimes he wishes he could see himself through Evan's adoring eyes. Evan's not done, yet, and his fingers graze every inch of his face, lingering on the cleft on his chin.

"Tommy, you're beautiful," Evan whispers, his impossibly blue eyes filled with so much fondness and affection that Tommy tears up. "So beautiful."

With those few words, Evan fixes something in him that he didn't even know was broken.

[russellradio]

something so beautiful about eddie saying "what you always do" (meaning make it better) in contrast to buck thinking he always makes thinks worse by trying to fix them

[queerweewoo]

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, possibly for all of eternity—because being past the age of thirty is all fun and games. 

Bare feet padding as 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 ago 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, and deciding to remedy the latter—with the hope it might help with 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 is trying to relocate to 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, and 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— 

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 right in Eddie's helpless direction, then breathing his next words right into Eddie's mouth as he leans up and pulls Eddie into him at the same time, 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, 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—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 is shaking his head, and saying, “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?”  

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

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

“Well, you shot my recurring dream down in flames by not listening to me for the very first time in seven literal years and talking right over my heartfelt love confession—even if I did still your line,” Buck tuts.“ You're a monster, Eddie Diaz,” he teases.  

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 had presumed you were letting me down gently?” 

“Absolutely not, Firefighter Diaz—because you should never presume when it comes to a Buckley,” Buck follows that with a pointed look. “But, I might let you make it up to me,” he grins again, a hopeful sort of thing, “by agreeing to be the teaspoon to my tablespoon in your big, comfortable bed… Whadda ya say to that?” 

“I say yes sir, Firefighter Buckley,” Eddie agrees instantly, obviously, as he bends down and scoops Buck up and over his shoulder and into a very appropriate Evacuation Lift, Buck squealing hilariously when Eddie sets off for his bedroom at a pretty impressive pace, if you were to ask Eddie.

And after they've sunk 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, hopefully—Eddie breathes a full breath for the first time all summer, and allows himself to love and be loved.  

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

Oh, and in case anyone is wondering, it turns out Eddie really, really loves being the little spoon—almost as much as he and Buck love each other. 

.

(unedited; pls be forgiving!)

[blurredbuddie]

Eddie Diaz in Buck's POV ☀️

[wikiangela]

we don't know where this is going now (don't be afraid of heights, let me open your heart wide)

bucktommy rating: G words: 5.6k summary: Tommy cuts their first date short, but to his surprise he gets a call from Evan just a few days later. or, 7x05 from Tommy's POV.

[read on Ao3]

It’s honestly a surprise when just a few days later, late in the evening, Tommy’s phone rings, and Evan’s name pops up. His traitorous heart beats a little faster when he answers the call and leans against the kitchen counter, where he’s been finishing up making a late dinner. “Evan?” he asks, confused but trying to play it casually. He’s good at that. He thinks years of pretending, trying to act straight, playing off gay jokes and even joining in to not make anyone suspicious made him way too good at acting cool and unbothered. He’s definitely surprised and excited, though. “Hey.” he smiles to himself. “Uh, hey- hi, Tommy, hey.” Evan stutters, and Tommy can imagine that flustered smile.  “Hi.” Tommy greets him again, grinning now. “Gotta say, I didn’t really expect you to call.” “I- I know, I just- I wanted to talk?” he says it more like a question, then huffs quietly, takes a breath. “I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee. With me. Tomorrow morning?” he says, sounding nervous but hopeful. And Tommy- Tommy has had a very hard time trying to say no to Evan, especially when he doesn’t actually want to. Besides, they can be friends, if whatever potential for romance didn’t work out. He’d be fine with that. He’s friends with Eddie, anyway, so he’ll surely have to be around Evan sometimes, and he doesn’t want it to be weird. “If you’re not- if you’re not busy? “Yeah, okay.” Tommy responds, trying to ignore the excitement swirling in his stomach at just the thought of seeing Evan. “I can do morning. What time?” “Uh, how’s nine? There’s this place I usually go to- I can text you the location? Or we can meet somewhere you like, that’s totally-” “Evan.” Tommy interrupts softly, still smiling. Even over the phone, even still this nervous, Evan is just adorable. “I’m sure your pick is fine. Just text me, and I’ll be there. Tomorrow at nine.” he assures. He thinks if Evan wanted to meet right at this second, he’d be there in a heartbeat. Which is a surprising thought. He really didn’t want to get attached this fast, but there’s just something about Evan… “Okay.” Evan breathes out. “So- so I’ll text you.” he repeats. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.” “See you tomorrow.” Tommy says, before Evan stumbles through a goodbye and hangs up, and Tommy just chuckles to himself. He’s curious what Evan wants to talk to him about. But he also needs to be careful, because he can see himself falling for him so fast and deep and easy. He shakes his head at himself. He’s being silly and ridiculous. Evan makes him feel silly and ridiculous and giddy, and Tommy doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this. 

[read on Ao3]

[buckleyblueyes]

yeah, yeah the Diaz family finding out about the Will would be juicy and dramatic, for sure. but you know what I kind of can't stop thinking about? Tommy finding out. Not only an outsider POV, but a queer outsider POV, seeing buddie at their most codependent? oh the drama potential.

Cause, at this point, from Tommy's POV he's dating this guy, and he knows he's really close with his bestie, and with his bestie's kid. but that's fine. they've been through a lot together and Tommy understands the bond that is often forged among first responders. and Buck's bond with Chris is sweet, makes him more attractive.

and then one day Eddie gets gravely injured and is hospitalized, and his boyfriend steps in to take care of his kid. no one in his life questions this. no one discusses it. it is assumed. it is natural. Buck knows exactly how to take care of Chris in Eddie's absence, how to navigate this house that isn't his, how to keep Chris's day to day going smoothly, in spite of it all. Buck is falling apart himself, but he pushes that aside to be there for this kid.

it surprises Tommy, because Eddie has mentioned an aunt who lives nearby, and after a couple days, Eddie's parents have flown in, and yet Buck is still staying with Chris. so Tommy asks, casually, if Chris doesn't have other family who could be taking care of him, if Buck has to be doing all this when he is clearly struggling himself. Buck just shrugs. "I mean, technically, but that's not what Eddie wants. it's not what I want, either."

what does that mean, that Eddie wants Buck to take care of Christopher? how does Buck know? so he prods further, not judgemental, but curious, not quite getting it. finally, Buck explains that Eddie put it in his will. if anything happens to him, Buck gets custody of Christopher. he explains, rather emotionally, how Eddie told him this after the last time he almost died, how Eddie trusted him to be there for Chris, to fight for him.

and Tommy has spent enough time with Eddie to know how much he loves his son, how serious this decision would be. that's Eddie's heart and soul on a silver platter. and suddenly, he understands. he looks at his boyfriend, eyes red from crying over another man. a man whose son he is caring for, whose house he is staying in, and he sees it with startling clarity.

and, in a reversal of bucktaylor getting together at the end of season four after Eddie was shot, this becomes the impetus for the (hopefully amicable) buck/tommy breakup.

[poughkeepsies]

I'm unglued, thanks to you

Are we falling like snow at the beach?

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Now Expanded on AO3 here

The bed is hard and cold, not anything he isn't used to, but uncomfortable all the same. Especially with the way his body aches right now.

He wasn't even supposed to be on the ground, running into burning buildings wasn't really his main job description anymore. It was just...

The woman was screaming for her cat. And Tommy loves cats, he has his own, Missy. She's probably wondering where daddy is right now.

Who is he kidding, she probably didn't even notice he left for work.

No one is probably noticing he's missing. He likes the people at harbor, his coworkers, but they aren't family like the 118, Evan has told him how half the station will be sitting bedside vigil when any of them get injured. It must be nice to have that. After his childhood, shipped from one foster home to another, kicked out at 18, a family like that is something he's always wanted; fuck he acted like an absolute asshole just to try to get the old 118 to like him.

He's just mulling over whether calling Eddie and asking him to pick him up whenever they discharge him is too much when he hears the squeak of sneakers on the hospital floor and glances towards the door.

In stumbles Evan, looking scared and adorable and making Tommy's heart beat so fast the monitor actually beeps a few times in warning.

"Tommy, hey, are you okay?" He says, scrambling towards him, dragging a chair over with a loud scrape that has Tommy wincing at the sound.

For a moment all he can do is stare over at this human ball of sunshine, something in his chest unknotting. Fuck he really didn't think anyone would come, how did he...

"I, I'm okay," he says, trying to put on a brave face for Evan. He's older, more experienced, he should try to be calm and not get emotional.

"You look like shit," Evan says in that earnest way he has, sitting there and taking Tommy's hand in his own. His thumb brushes over Tommy's bruised knuckles, his concerned expression staring straight into Tommy's soul.

"Oh..." he says as he feels something crack open in him. Because Evan is here, he's holding his hand, he's worried for him he... He wants to take care of him, its written all over that adorable face. And well, that's, its not really something Tommy ever has anymore. "I'll be okay," he amends, and his hand squeezes Evan's even if it hurts a little. "How did you even?"

"The hospital called me. Apparently I'm your emergency contact?" Evan asks, and there's confusion there, but also something that looks like that same giddy contentment that Evan gets whenever Tommy does something to make him happy.

Fuck. He forgot he'd done that. That looked crazy and desperate, they'd only been dating a couple months.

"Uh, yeah it was either you or Chimney," he said, and fuck if that didn't sound pathetic. It wasn't like he didn't have friends. He had a lot actually, but none that he trusted implicitly like that. To see him weak and vulnerable. Chimney had saved his life though, and Evan well...

Evan leans in and kisses him. "Well I'm glad you did because I might not have known otherwise. Chim is at work right now so."

They sit for a while, Him recounting how he saved the cat but got blasted out a first floor window by the explosion. There wasn't any serious damage but he hurt like shit and had a lot of bruises and scrapes.

"Would you want to, y'know, come home with me and I can take care of you? Or I can stay at your place," Evan asks and fuck, fuck he is Not going to cry, he is not that kind of guy. But then, before he can answer.

Eddie rounds the corner, followed closely by Chim and Hen. Eddie's in plain clothes but Hen and Chim look like they came directly from the station.

"Tommy, shit, you okay?" Eddie asks, and Hen and Chim are looking at his chart by the bed and this is. Its too much. Its exactly what he wanted but wasn't at all expecting.

"I'm," he starts, looking at Evan for a moment before deciding, "I feel about as bad as I look, yeah." Evan squeezes his hand and his heart starts racing again and the monitor is beeping a little and he feels a tear going down his cheek. Evan wipes the tear away and then they're all talking. About what happened as Evan explains it for him, about a call where Hen saved a dog a few months back, about whatever. And fuck if Tommy doesn't feel safe, feel like he belongs.

Later that night, laying in his own bed, Evan having dragged him onto his broad chest in the same way Tommy usually does to him, he starts to think he could get used to this. He really hopes he can keep Evan, keep all of this for himself. Missy curls at the foot of the bed and purrs and he thinks, yeah, I feel like purring in contentment too.

[orangemoustache]

(phrygian class with prof. ezeem, the second thirstly)

[peoplemakemesick]

Imagine Tommy not telling Buck his coffee order and being all flirty "guess you'll have to get to know me better and figure it out"

But then Buck figures it out surprisingly fast and Tommy is like "what?? You weren't even remotely close up until now??"

Then Buck proceeds to tell Tommy all excited how after HOURS of research and a very thorough spreadsheet (with apparently all the flavors, beans, syrups, types and beyond what you could even imagine and all the combinations with their taste characteristics) he developed a strategy to figure out the different components (like earthy tones etc whatever that means?).

They apparently also need to go to the coffee shop soon because the baristas there will freak out when they learn that Buck finally got it right.

When Buck finishes his story, Tommy just keeps staring at him with so much adoration in his eyes and not uttering a single word... Did Tommy think it was weird?

Meanwhile Tommy's mind is screaming "I love you" over and over but it's WAY too early to tell Evan that...

[aesthetictarlos]

We've talked a lot about BuckTommy first argument from Buck's pov, about how scared he'd be because people always leave when things get difficult and all that. And yeah, Buck has abandonment issues and he would be scared and insecure. He had tons of arguments before, but what about Tommy? Tommy didn't.

Tommy's previous relationships weren't serious enough to get to the point of arguing. Of course he's argued with people before, but not with people he was in love with. Except that it happens, and he knows it's perfectly fine for partners to argue and it's not even a big argument - no raised voices, no mean words - but Tommy's terrified because what if this pushes Evan away? What if this argument drives them apart like it happened to his parents? What if Evan thought Tommy was different and this argument makes him realise he's not? What if Evan won't look at him the same way after this? What if...

Tommy's terrified. After a few hours of radio silence from Buck, he drives through cross-town traffic, all the way to Evan's loft again, and knocks on his door with red rimmed eyes and tears streaming down his face, voice insecure as he asks, pleads Evan to forgive him, to let him explain and Buck's a bit stunned at first, because he was too caught up in his own struggles to think about Tommy's insecurities. When he does, and realizes that Tommy was as affected by this argument as much as him, he opens his arms and hugs him tight and promises him that they're fine, that everything's gonna be okay, and at his kitchen island, exactly where Tommy has kissed him the first time, they save each other again.

[buck2eddie]

[i don't know how i still can't make it make any sense.]

[queerweewoo]

Twenty-seven seconds.

Buck had counted each terrifying one of them. Those moments, between one to the next, they'd felt like entire lifetimes.

Twenty-seven seconds.

The length of time they’d held each other's steadfast gaze through the glass that separated them; he and Eddie in different rooms yet locked together in a shared, living hell.

Twenty-seven seconds.

It was how long it had taken the CDC doctors to inspect Eddie's hazmat for rips or holes as they'd checked in minute detail for any place the toxic substance could have breached the suit and reached Eddie's skin.

Twenty-seven seconds.

That's what it had taken, in the end. Barely a half-minute—not the full four, as that psychologist from New York would have the world believe.

Buck had read about it in a Big Think article one time:

‘Holding four minutes of sustained eye contact with another person is a sure-fire way to fall in love.’

There had been some other stuff in there about asking a series of tailored personal questions before beginning the looking part of the experiment, but he and Eddie already had six years worth of personal.

No two people on earth knew each other the way Eddie knew Buck and Buck knew Eddie—and although some folks would say that couldn't possibly be true, Buck didn't give a damn about a single one of them.

Twenty-seven seconds.

And Buck knew that Eddie was just as in love with him as Buck had been with Eddie for those six years they'd spent by each other's side. Or, at least, Eddie was in love with Buck now; Buck was sure of it, after the terror he'd seen in Eddie's eyes that was reflected in his own, when they’d each thought they might be about to lose the other half of themselves.

Twenty-seven seconds.

It was more than long enough, after everything they'd been through together.

Twenty-seven seconds.

Then the doctors had given Eddie the all-clear and the pair of them had burst into relieved, happy-tears.

Buck had already speed-dialled Carla (they'd taken Eddie's mobile from him) because he knew Eddie needed to hear Christopher's voice—they both did—and Buck handed the phone to Eddie as soon as the doctors let Eddie tear his way out of that awful room that Buck never wanted to see ever again, for as long as he fucking lived, and they'd held back the tears as best they could, for their boy's sake, while they chatted on speakerphone just like it was any other day, about Eddie's shitty cooking and which Lego structures they were going to build when they got back home.

Because that's where they both knew Buck belonged: With Eddie and Chris. The three of them, at Casa Diaz.

Together.

Twenty-seven seconds.

That's how it began.

Twenty-seven seconds.

With those three words.

“Twenty-seven seconds... Eds, that's how long it took me to realise how stupid I've—”

It took Eddie's hands no time at all to find Buck's face and pull it down into his own, Eddie pressing his lips to Buck's and kissing twenty-seven seconds and six years of pure, unadulterated love into them.

Twenty-seven seconds.

Until they were uttering those other three words to each other, over and over again.

They cried more, and laughed about it.

Then they kissed more.

And if Buck had to hazard a guess at how long it took before Hen and Chim and Bobby were able to pull them apart, trying their best to admonish them through their fits of giggles?

Twenty-seven seconds.

Or thereabouts.