100% in the Buddie Team Switch tent over here btw bc these bastards are honestly just far too complex to ever be anything else imo. like Buck with his praise kink, all somebody please tell me i did good as i wasn't told this growing up by the people who were supposed to say it to me and it changed my brain chemistry by denying me of positive affirmations and molded me into a pliable thing that cannot help but take any shape others want me to so i just need need need you to please please tell me that i did good and that i am good and please will you help me to believe that i am as good as you're telling me i am by holding me down and forcing me to take all of you into all of me until I'm fucking convulsing with just how good it feels and how good i am at it, and bc i now know for sure how much you love it too as you're saying it out loud to me, over and over and over again... and Eddie, with absolutely everything in his life (outside of work) feeling so very out of his control and needing to gain some of it back by crushing Buck with his body weight and telling Buck exactly what it is he should be doing and precisely how to do it and have Buck whining and keening with how desperate he is to comply bc Buck has complete trust in Eddie, in Eddie's ability to make the right decision for whatever it is Buck needs, for what they both need, and having that allows Eddie to have the courage in his convictions that he often struggles to have outside of the(ir) bedroom when it comes to his emotions and that just feels so good to Eddie, to be doing it right, to be the one making Buck feel good, so good, and to actually be taking—for once in his life—what it is that he wants and allowing himself to have the things he desires, to have Buck, all for himself, because that is what feels good to him... but then there are those other times in Eddie's life that he has had to and has to be a sure and steady hand, a reliable go-to, be totally unshakeable and unbreakable and in charge of making decisions that affect countless people's lives—victims of war, those he tries his best to serve and save on calls, colleagues, friends, the people he cares for and those he loves the most in his life—and it's, well. it's A Lot. so much, actually, that Eddie sometimes needs to turn it off and just let it all go and allow somebody else take over and tell him what to do and when to do it bc he just needs to not think about it anymore, to not think at all, needs to just be a vessel for somebody else's decisions and desires and put his trust wholly in somebody else, in Buck, bc he doesn't always trust himself but Buck knows Eddie so well and so completely and understands what Eddie needs to get out of his own head and just have somebody tell him (outside of his job) that he did good for once, that he can get matters of the heart right instead of always wrong wrong wrong and have Buck tell him that yes, of course he's good for something, good for this, good for splaying himself wide open and taking everything he is given by Buck... and then there's the whole Buck (outside of work) having zero fucking clue of what he's doing and even tho he is trying his very best all of the time he's getting it wrong A Lot of the time, bc his best isn't always good enough so he has to try harder but then he's trying too hard, too much, which means he still isn't getting it right. and so to be able to be the one in charge of things and have his will and instruction be absolutely the right thing? the very thing that Eddie needs? that's such a heady experience, such a rush, and when he makes Eddie beg and cry with it and Eddie loves loves loves Buck for it—loves Buck for telling him how it should be and for Buck insisting on what he's giving being what Eddie deserves—that is Buck living and thriving and loving loving loving Eddie right back, with all the plundering depth that he has in him and can give and is... and that, all of that, is just. how it is. every facet of it; every logistic; every angle; every way and any way you look at it; every (s)which way.
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feeling very very emotional over Buddy dawn rn. A kid who despite not liking Kristen or the Bad Kids, still volunteered to revive them during the last stand. A kid with complete trust in his religion and peers, who died alone by being slashed in the throat before he could realize what was happening, by someone he trusted. People he trusted hiding behind lies and hurting people and killing him in the process (Bobby, kipperlilly). “Helio wouldn’t have let that happen”. Kristen who died on the first day of school, with no intervening miracle. Buddy who was completely devoted to his god and was brutally murdered by his friend, no time left for saving throws. Buddy who is a complete reflection of who Kristen was and who she would continue being if she never questioned her religion. Helio who didn’t intervene when she died, and was only spared because of people she met hours ago, Buddy dying without any miracle or saving throw, by someone he had been led to trust for months. someone hold me actually.
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“Have you ever been in love?”
The question seems to take Evan by surprise. “What?”
Barty repeats the question, shifting up into a sitting position. His hands dig into the ground, still damp from last night’s rain. “Have you ever been in love?”
There’s a beat of silence. Then, looking down at his feet, Evan quietly answers, “Yes.”
Suddenly, Barty is mad at himself for asking. He can’t even say why he asked in the first place; he simply had the thought, and being the impulsive person he is, he asked without thinking. Now he wishes he hadn’t, if only to have avoided this odd burning in his chest caused by Evan’s answer. And really, he should drop the topic, based on downcast tint to Evan’s response, but he can’t seem to let it go. So instead, he presses the issue.
“When?” he asks, looking intently at Evan.
At that, Evan looks to his left, purposely avoiding eye contact with Barty. He stubs out his cigarette on the grass next to him, a thin curl of smoke rising up from it as he does so. “A long, long time ago.” His voice is dark with something Barty can’t name.
“Did it end well?”
Evan cuts him a look. “Who said it ended?”
At his words, something twists inside Barty. Suddenly there’s a lump in his throat as he works to get out his next sentence. “Well, you said a long time ago. So I thought that it was a, uh, past thing.”
“Yeah. It was a long time ago. When I… fell in love.”
Barty knows he’s the one who started this conversation, but he really hates the way Evan says love in reference to some mystery person. At least he used past tense, though, meaning it’s a thing of the past.
“So what happened?” Barty questions.
“They didn’t want me in the way I wanted them. Still don’t want me that way.” There’s something bitter in Evan’s tone, and he’s gone back to refusing to look at Barty. In contrast, Barty stares at him intently. He feels as though he’ll be able to see through Evan’s exterior and into his insides, where all his secrets are hidden, if he only looks hard enough.
“Who was it?”
“Does it matter?” Evan’s voice is biting as he sharply turns his head back towards Barty.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Barty leans back onto his elbows, tearing his gaze from Evan. It’s almost comical how their positions have changed; now, Evan stares at Barty, and Barty looks out over the lake in an effort to avoid his gaze.
“It was no one important, okay?”
“Oh.” Something settles in Barty when he hears that, even if Evan’s tone contrasts with his dismissive words. “They were—still are—an idiot, though. Just for the record.”
Evan laughs in that disbelieving way of his, as if he’s sharing an inside joke with himself. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Barty says definitively. “I mean, you’re perfect. And whoever can’t see that is an idiot.”
“Perfect?”
“Yup.” Barty means it, too.
“Yeah, well,” Evan scoffs, “it isn’t good enough for them. So it doesn’t matter.”
“Well, you’re good enough for me,” Barty says hotly. “So don’t worry about that idiot. Because you and me? We’re best friends, and you’ll always be good enough for me. You know that, right?”
Evan is avoiding Barty’s gaze again. He picks at the grass next to him, focusing on that instead. “Right,” he says somewhat bitterly.
“I mean it,” Barty insists. “You are.”
Evan looks at him, smiling sadly. “Thanks, Bee. But it’s getting cold. I think I’ll head back inside if that’s all right with you.”
“I—okay. Yeah, uh, sure.”
With that, Evan gets up and begins the walk back to the castle. Barty watches him go, thinking their entire exchange over.
He’s not entirely sure where the conversation went sour enough to get Evan to leave, but clearly something must’ve caused his abrupt departure. Even if Barty had thought he had said the right things to get Evan to cheer up again. He had meant what he said, too; Evan always would be good enough for him. Barty honestly couldn’t imagine a better best friend.
So Evan shouldn’t, Barty thinks heatedly, have ever been hung up on some random person who couldn’t even see how amazing he is.
Barty continues to sit there, close to the shore of the lake, and watches Evan’s retreating form. And as he watches Evan reach up to wipe at his eyes, trying and failing to act like it was nonchalant gesture, he resolves to find out who Evan was talking about. And he’s going to make them, whoever it may be, pay for how they hurt Barty’s best friend.
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