#tommy's not well and maybe he hasn't been for a long time...!

[markiafc]

[munsonsboy]

steve's been knocking on doors trying to find eddie. he would be annoyed that all he's found are couples and groups in states of undress but this is some random house party, so it's what steve expects.

plus he's too relieved that he hasn't walked in on eddie being a part of any of it.

steve knows it's gross to feel this way. he trusts eddie 100%. it's not right to let past relationship problems cloud his judgement when it comes to what he has with eddie - who hasn't given him any reason to doubt.

but eddie is so new. been together for only 2 months now new.

and tommy was so old. childhood friend/fucked up situationship for 10 long years old. just ended for good a year and a half ago old.

so even though he knows, hopes, prays, that it's ridiculous to compare the two together, steve still checks the bathroom and makes sure the man on his knees in front of some blonde cheerleader isn't his boyfriend.

and then promptly ducks down to avoid a brush the blonde cheerleader throws at him.

'sorry!' steve apologizes. he hurries to slam the door closed and makes his way to the very last room at the end of the hallway.

maybe he left? eddie didn't want to serve here anyway, rich druggie clientele be damned. so even though they came together, maybe eddie had an emergency and-

steve cuts that thought off because well. he found eddie.

'baby!!' his boyfriend exclaims, alone, sitting on the floor in the middle of some random strangers room with a jar of peanut butter. he's got a spoon full of it half way up to his mouth and his eyes are red.

at least 4 brownies deep red.

the wave of relief he feels is actually pretty concerning, but steve will think about that some other time since he's too busy trying not to laugh at how ridiculous the long haird idiot looks.

'eddie, what are you doing?'

eddie looks guilty and for a split second steve thinks maybe he did walk in on eddie with someone else. (maybe he's waiting on them? maybe they already left?)

then eddie holds up the jar of peanut butter and says in the saddest voice, 'i needed it stevie, i don't remember how long it's been since i've had peanut butter. but i didn't think you'd find me! stay back! don't you come any closer!'

so this whole time while steve's been worried that eddie was off doing what tommy used to do to make him jealous, eddie just snuck off and hid away to eat peanut butter because steves' allergic.

starting to snicker, steve goes to sit across from him. 'i can be around it babe, im not gonna die.'

eddie rushes to close the jar, spoon shoved inside and all. he gives steve the stink eye. 'i know what peanut allergies can do to some people. i refuse to watch you blow up like a tomato.'

steve rolls his eyes and reaches out, acting like he's gonna touch the jar.

eddie yells. jumping to his feet, he scurries out of the closet like an over grown rat, 'steve harrington this is exactly why I was trying to eat this away from you!'

steves laughing now, giggling like a hyena. he can't believe he ever doubted this man.

later that night - after eddie has showered and brushed his teeth at least three times - when they're tucked away in eddies room under the covers, steve talks to him about his freak out. eddie apologizes for leaving him alone at a strangers party like that. he holds him close, gives steve a ton of kisses and promises to create a DND character that represents tommy.

'i'll turn him into a toad and kill him off in the most gruesome way imaginable. he'll be murdered to death, the kids will be traumatized. it'll be great. just you wait and see, my love.'

[cjlouwho]

Bucktommy cuddling in bed, please? Doesn't have to lead to anything, just them being soft.

Since their third date, when Buck told Tommy about his fears after getting struck by lightning and how he spent so long texting Bobby every morning to make sure everything was alright, Buck woke up to a text from Tommy.

Without fail.

Five straight months of 6am texts. Even the days he was working, when he was already awake and had been for a while, he'd still get a text to check in.

That's why Buck's heart nearly sunk directly to the floor when he checked his phone one morning at 6:32am, right after they'd gotten back from a call, to see that Tommy hadn't texted him.

He hesitated briefly, but sent Tommy a heart, followed by a everything okay?

Another thing Tommy had always been great at is answering Buck back quickly. The only time he didn't, or couldn't, was when he was working.

And he wasn't working today.

It didn't take long for Bobby to notice him glaring down at his phone.

“What's wrong, Buck?”

“Oh,” Buck put his phone back in his pocket, waving Bobby off. “It's nothing. No big deal.”

“You sure? Looks like it might be. Everything okay?”

Buck let out a sigh, then explained. “Tommy hasn't missed a morning of texting me for five months. Every single morning, six on the dot.”

“I'm guessing there was no text today?”

Buck shook his head. “No. I texted him, but I haven't heard back. Maybe... Maybe he just overslept? Or forgot, or something.”

“Okay,” Bobby replied with a nod, “well, go get changed and head on out. We've got it covered.”

“But, Cap-”

“Shift ends in thirty minutes anyway. And we both know you won't be able to let it go until you make sure he's alright. Need Eddie to tag along?”

“N- No, I.. I'm sure I'm overreacting.”

“Text me and let me know once you know. And Buck?”

“Yeah, Cap?”

“Try not to panic.”

Not willing to make any promises, Buck turned and headed for his locker.

*****

It took him nearly half an hour to get to Tommy's place, and he didn't think twice about using the key Tommy had given him a couple months back to let himself in. Especially since he still hadn't heard a word from him.

“Tommy?” He spoke cautiously as he entered the house, trying to keep calm against all the negative thoughts running through his mind.

No answer.

The house was dark. It didn't look like Tommy had been up at all. If it weren't for his car out front, Buck wouldn't think he was there.

He moved further into the house, heading down the hall toward Tommy's bedroom.

“Tommy?” His voice was shaky this time, unsteady.

The door squeaked as he pushed it open, but he immediately sighed a breath of relief when the body tangled up under the covers moved.

“Evan?” Tommy questioned, eyes squinting toward him in confusion. “Why're you here?”

“I'm checking on you.” Buck toed off his shoes and walked over to the bed, crawling up beside Tommy. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out and resting a hand over his forehead. “You don't feel hot.”

“M'fine,” Tommy answered, wrapping the blankets tighter around his neck. His voice still sounded rough from sleep. “What time is it? You're supposed to be at work.”

“It's a little past seven. I got worried when I didn't get a text from you this morning. Cap let me leave early.”

“Seven?” Tommy looked even more confused by that. He turned and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, shoulders slumping when he confirmed the time. “God, Evan, I'm sorry. I- I didn't know.”

“It's okay,” Buck assured him. “I'm just glad you're not severely injured or dead, like my head decided you were on the way over.”

Tommy smiled softly, holding out his arms for Buck to come lay in.

Happily, Buck pushed the comforter back on his usual side of the bed and laid beside Tommy, resting his head on his chest.

With one of Tommy's hands soothingly rubbing up and down his back, and the other massaging at his scalp, Buck almost allowed himself to be completely at ease.

Almost.

Because he still knew that something was wrong, even if he couldn't quite figure it out yet.

After pressing a kiss to Tommy's pec, Buck asked again, “Are you okay?”

Tommy took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he answered. “My mom died thirty years ago today,” he admitted.

Buck stilled, then brought his arm to wrap tighter around Tommy's waist. “Oh, Tommy, I- I had no idea.” He leaned up slightly to be able to look at him. “You didn't tell me before, did you? Because-”

“No, no. I don't ever really talk about it, so I'm sure I've never mentioned it.”

Carefully, Buck rolled off of Tommy, lying flat on the bed. He pulled Tommy along with him, having him rest inside his arms instead. “I decided you're the one needing held today,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head.

Tommy laid on him with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of Buck's heart thumping in his chest. “I don't usually miss her this much,” he said. “I mean, I always miss her, but anniversaries don't usually make it worse.”

“Grief has a way of sneaking up on you when you don't expect it.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “It's kind of a pain in the ass.”

Buck huffed out a laugh. “Yes, it is.”

“I just... I think about talking to her a lot. Telling her about my life, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“And there's always been updates here and there. She would have hated me being in the army. Would've been worried sick. She would still worry about me as a firefighter, but she would have been proud. But I think,” he paused, snuggling closer to Buck, “I think this is the first time I could've told her all about my personal life, not just the work stuff.”

Buck's hand stilled from where his fingertips had lightly been brushing over Tommy's arm. “Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. All these years I've just gone over what work accomplishments I could have talked to her about. I didn't even think about that this time.”

Carefully, Buck scooted further down into the bed. He maneuvered them around until they were both on their sides facing one another. He tangled their legs together, and they each slung an arm around the other's waist.

“What would you have said?” Buck asked. “About your life?”

Tommy smiled. “You wanna hear me talk about you?”

“Oh, this life conversation includes me?” Buck replied cheekily. “I guess that's just a plus.”

Tommy stared into Buck's eyes as he thought over his words. “I would've told her that my friend Howie called me one day and asked me for an insane favor. A favor I probably should've thought twice about, but I didn't. And how he showed up with these two other guys who I'd never seen before. Then one of those guys would go on to make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

Even as he teared up, a smile grew on Buck's face. “You mean Eddie, don't you?”

That got a laugh out of Tommy. A big laugh where his eyes closed and his nose scrunched up. “I'd also tell her he always knows how to make me feel better. And he's good to me, and for the first time in my life I feel complete.”

“You do?” Buck asked, eyes going soft.

“I do. I'd tell her that this guy never stops surprising me. How he cares so deeply about everyone around him that I constantly have to remind him that he exists too. How fiercely protective he is. How safe I feel with him.”

Buck fought at blinking his tears away. He cleared his throat. “Do you think your mom would wanna meet me?”

“Oh, I know she'd wanna meet you. She'd be crazy about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Because I'd like to tell her more about her son.”

“Evan.”

“I'm serious.” Buck brought his hand to Tommy's face, stroking his cheek. “I'd love to tell her what a great job she did raising you. How gentle you are, how loving and patient you are. How you always listen, and you seem to know how I'm feeling before I do. How I- I'd love to spend the rest of my life beside you, if you'd let me.”

Tommy swallowed hard. “Really?”

Buck nodded.

It wasn't a proposal. They didn't even live together yet. But it was a promise. A promise of a future together without an expiration date.

Tommy cradled himself into Buck's arms again. “I love you so much, Evan.”

Buck held him tight, hoping the depth of love he had for Tommy could be felt through his touch. “I love you too, Tommy.”

[inklessletter]

Happens after gym class. Eddie was held back, and the new gym coach is warned against the obscene numbers of excuses Munson handed over the last one to skip class, so this time, he actually has to go an do shit.

Fucking hates it.

First class of the year comes, and Eddie just tries his best to not engage with the new kids. Former class was a nest of assholes, and that was part of the reason he hated going in there. Hasn't got time to overthink because the coach is in the middle of the basketball court and makes them run thirty laps.

Eddie's sure he's dying at the ninth.

And it's mortifying being eighteen and in such poor shape he can't even run for a few minutes.

He's about to faint, and he knows he's not even running right because his feet don't respond how his brain wants them to. It's the fifteenth lap yet.

Eddie is dying, he's swearing he's going to quit smoking after this shit, when he feels a tap of a hand next to him.

Great, first asshole was taking to long to make fun of him.

It's Harrington.

"Hey, man" he says, and he's carrying himself with a fine layer of sweat that makes him look even good. "Get upright, come on, you're going to kiss the floor if you keep running like that."

"Leave me... a... alone..." Eddie says. Or tries to.

"Just run with me, slow your pace," Steve says. "Just like this. One, two. One, two. One, two."

And maybe it's because those are his last moments of his short life, but he actually decides to do as he's told. Eddie straightens his back and takes a deep breath and focuses on his feet, following the rhythm. One, two. One, two. One, two.

"That's good, keep going, just like that," Steve praises.

And it's fucking odd, and suspicious as fuck that Harrington is being nice to him.

Eddie thinks that maybe Harrington is avoiding Tommy H for whatever reason. Last year they were together all the time, but this year Hargrove seemed to have captured his attention.

Eddie also thinks Harrington is going to ditch Eddie once he doesn't look pathetic, but actually sticks with him the rest of the laps, and the last five he actually is looking like a mess too, but has some breath left for encouraging Eddie, who is deliberately not responding verbally because air is precious.

Then they finish the tirtieth lap and Eddie's knees barely work until he finds a spot to sit and never, ever stand up. His lungs are burning, and his vision is all blurry. He's hot, and sweaty, and fucking disgusting.

Steve is there again, offering some water.

Eddie takes it, and Steve just nods with his head and goes away to the showers.

With the last bit of strength his muscles has stored, Eddie stands up and goes to the showers. He need one SO. FUCKING. MUCH.

The kids are loud and there's a general vibe of complaining and Eddie has no meaning to finish soon to get to class right away.

Fuck next class, he's toast.

There's barely five or six of them still in the locker room when he can breathe almost normally again (his lungs still hurt) when he starts to undress.

Harrington is just going out of the showers, towel around his middle when Eddie is... well. Almost fully naked.

For a reason he's so not going to analyze, he feels a wave of heat going up to make nest in his cheeks. He tries not to stare when Steve takes off the towel, not looking at him twice.

He observes, and thinks that maybe needs to say thanks or something nice for helping him out back there. Anything, actually. But he's there. Staring. Frozen.

Harrington is... well. That. He's been that since a few years ago. They have never interacted before, so him being that was never a problem until he stands there, fully naked in front of him.

Who's also naked.

Steve is dressing, and he's not looking at Eddie, but Eddie, who's looking with no trace of discretion, sees him smiling while he's tying his Nikes.

"You've got no shame, man," Steve says, and then looks at him fully. He's putting his polo on and then working on his belt while looking at Eddie in the eye. "See something you like?"

"Uh... Ah... I'm not-"

Steve's eyes just go south on Eddie's body, and then back up, smirking.

Eddie is suddenly hyper aware that he's hard. Hadn't even noticed. He's got no time to feel ashamed when he feels a dry towel crashing against his face. He grabs it, and looks at Steve, trying to... to what? Apologize?

Steve is smiling when he closes his locker, takes the duffel bag and leaves the room.

"For your modesty, dude."

--

@lawrencebshoggoth

[alchemistc]

kiss in the rain, don't let me get on that plane

an: it feels like this might be part of a series. every iteration of a fix-it my brain comes up with penned to paper, as it were.

The air is crisper up here, the sky more blue.

Air operations is a county-wide endeavor here, with five volunteer departments in the surrounding towns to drive the engines where they're needed, but the hangar in the valley below him houses six helicopters, two engines, and one functioning ambulance. The other one is, apparently, out of commission and the yearly budget won't be available for another three months.

His station doesn't work with Air Ops very often, but once a month they host a county-wide dinner and Buck had volunteered to cook the bulk of it, this time.

He's full - with food, with laughter, with a lot of light hearted teasing from the other captains about how he'd only gotten the call because he's essentially indestructible on the job (I've died twice doesn't seem to have much effect when he's standing across from them living and breathing)

He's been getting his lungs used to the elevation for a while now but he can't quite blame the thin air when his breath stops in his throat at the sight that meets him when he crests the hill towards his Jeep.

Buck feels his fist tighten around the shoulder of his duffle.

"Hey," Tommy says, and he looks -

Well he looks exactly like he'd looked three months ago at Buck's going away party.

Eddie had flown in with Chris for it, the smile reaching his eyes for the first time in a while, and Buck maybe just hadn't noticed the mischievous tilt to his grin when Eddie had pulled away from a back slapping hug, or maybe he just couldn't have clocked exactly why he looked quite like that.

He'd just been happy to see him after seven months without the comfort of a key to Eddie's place on his keyring, of knowing he'd get to see and talk to and be teased by his closest friend within a few days of the last time. He'd been ecstatic, actually, the grin refusing to leave his face while he hugged Christopher longer than necessary, while he listened to Eddie whine about his mother in a way Buck had never heard before, like he was actually a little amused by her rather than angry with her.

He'd been happy to be distracted by Bobby and Athena as they began their recollections of all the stupid shit he used to get up to, the calls he'd proved to be vital on, the ways he'd grown and changed in the near decade he'd been a firefighter.

"They're lucky to have you," Bobby had said when there were tears of laughter in everyone's eyes, and maybe he had or hadn't noticed Maddie clock-watching but he certainly noticed when front door opened and wide shoulders filled the frame - large hands curling around the handle, the downslope of a familiar nose hitting the open air before the rest of a familiar face. Thick arms framing a barrel chest and long legs in tight jeans.

It'd taken Buck another four hours and a series of hushed confessions whispered across a shared pillowcase for him to notice the slash of new silver along his temples.

He notices them now, again, as Tommy drops from the driver's side of his truck and tips his hip against the frame, sunlight catching in the lighter hairs. Tommy looks more wary than Buck's ever seen him. More hopeful, too.

"Did you mean it?" Tommy asks, and - Buck had said a lot of things, that night.

He can make an educated guess, but he's actually thinking he needs to make Tommy work for it, this time. It's startling to realize he's actually making moves to be a little selfish when his heart is pounding in his ears like this. He tips his chin. Drifts a yard and a half closer.

Tommy's gaze shifts. "Evan," and it's been three months since that night but they've talked, text threads that switch between bickering and serious and flirty and friendly, a few phone calls on hushed evenings when the cabin walls creak with wind around him. Buck hasn't heard Tommy say his name like that since it'd slipped out by mistake, three months ago, when Buck shifted his hips just enough to hit Tommy's prostate dead on. "I sold my house."

This is the big gesture, then. The one they'd talked about like it was a little bit silly, like it was still the kind of thing people did in movies that didn't really translate to a lived life.

"I literally talked to you yesterday," Buck says, and contemplates throwing something at him out of frustrated elation. A conversation from two days ago clicks. "Eddie knew, didn't he?"

Eddie with a smug tilt to his grin as he tipped the camera away from an unimpressed Christopher, Eddie pressing and pushing and wonderingly asking Buck if he'd thought about actually moving in to the house they'd offered up to him as part of the captaincy package. How Buck had scoffed, content to putz around his little bachelor cabin in the woods.

Tommy shrugs. "I shipped him all the mats from my garage when I was packing. Apparently I'm a shitty liar so he didn't quite believe me when I told him I was just upgrading."

He's beautiful, as he shifts his weight and drifts away from his truck, towards Buck, backlit by the gold-flecked, fluffy clouds hanging low over the jagged horizon line.

Buck checks his grip on his duffle.

"What happened to the car lift?"

It's - it's stupid, actually, but Buck feels like the next ten-twenty-fifty years of his life might hinge on the answer to it. Tommy steps closer - close enough for Buck to smell the aftershave on his very freshly shaved jaw. "I'm, uh. Thinking of having it shipped up from storage. If I find a place to stay."

He's got three more months he can't get out of on the cabin lease. The captains house is currently being occupied by his three most reckless probies and he won't just kick them out on a whim.

There's that ranch he sees tucked away in the valley, every time he drives into work, the one that's had a For Sale sign up since the first time he'd visited, four and a half months ago.

Buck drops the duffle and reaches forward to tug at the loops of Tommy's jeans.

The kiss is warm, soft, familiar. He shoves three and a half years worth of longing into it, in the way he hadn't, three drinks too deep with his ex after all his friends and family had wished him farewell. He'd spent six months after the breakup angry and hoping to make Tommy eat his fucking words; no one kisses like Tommy.

No one curls fingers so delicately around his ear before he lays his palm flat to Buck's scalp and tugs at Buck's hair, no one opens his mouth and licks in with a swirl and a groan like that, no one shifts their weight closer and breathes him in on a gasp.

"Tommy," Buck says, when they're both breathless and overwhelmed. He thinks of the text he'd sent, three weeks ago, after a phone call with Tommy about the kid who'd died in the air with him at the controls.

(Firsts and lasts are never guaranteed, and he hadn't meant it to sound petty, he'd really just meant to make a point about how a first high school dance and a last high school dance weren't so diametrically opposed.

Getting back a string of unpunctuated texts with misspelled words and no order or coherence had been enough to turn on his bedside lamp and call.

Tommy's voice had been tired, defeated, words slurred in a way Buck can't remember ever hearing before. It was a wall breaking down that he'd honestly never expected. Not after he'd thought he was chipping away at them only to realize Tommy had just been reinforcing them at the base.

"God, I fucking miss you," he'd said, while Buck stumbled through a speech about the survival mechanisms of the African beetle bug. Three and a half years, three semi-serious relationships between them and now over a thousand miles separated them as they'd been. A night of tipsy fucking before Buck kissed his sleeping forehead and hopped on a plane didn't change that.

But there in the quiet spaces between their breaths over the phone, he'd felt the weight of being missed by Tommy Kinard.)

"No one calls me Buck up here," Buck tells him, while they both press into each other, hands shifting over clothes, limbs stretching to meet, faces tucked in close. "You'll have to get used to Evan not being so special."

Tommy sighs. A finger draws a line from his temple to the curve of his jaw.

"Evan will always be special to me."

He's the first person since Buck began to ever call him that just because. There have been others, since then, no longer exclusive to the man who laughed as they soared through clouds and the one who'd brought him so fucking low he'd felt parts of himself fully fracture.

Buck is pretty fucking sure this means he wants to be the last. Still. He can tell his expression shutters by the way Tommy looks momentarily browbeaten, but his eyes clear, and he tugs Buck further into his chest, bundles his arms around him. "Ask me again," he says, and Buck stares into his eyes and tries to imagine what they'd look like against a skyline without smog, high up in the air, the ground falling away from them.

"That ranch I was telling you about is still for sale," Buck says, and tries desperately to keep his expression neutral as he continues. "Maybe in a couple years, you can help me with the mortgage payments."

Tommy nips at his nose, his laugh soft and quiet, warm. His eyes are a little misty.

"You're breaking my heart, Evan Buckley," and he has to clear his throat, corners of his eyes going wet. "Always knew you would."

Right now it's little more than a gesture and a promise. Buck's had three years to reflect, to understand that for all that Tommy had been the one who'd helped him reach this current update of Buck, they'd never actually dealt with too many of the hard parts. They'll have to fight for it. They'll have to talk through stupid shit, and miscommunications, and fear and regret and the love, too.

He thinks maybe Tommy's finally ready to fight.

---

Eddie looks smug as he catches sight of Tommy stumbling blearily down the stairs behind Buck on the video call.

Buck makes a face.

"Do you know how many times one of you thwarted my parent trap-esque plans for you two assholes? When you were both single six months ago I nearly hired some creep off Facebook marketplace to kidnap you both and lock you in a room."

Tommy ruffles Buck's hair, flips off the camera, navigates his way to the coffee pot, out of Eddie's view.

"And that's my cue to go," Eddie says, and Bucks gaze darts guiltily from Tommy's ass. "I better be the first one you guys invite to the housewarming." And he hangs up before either of them can argue that this is brand fucking new and they really haven't worked through the details.

He's right, though. He's right. Buck's got his teeth in the back of Tommy's neck twenty seconds later, and when Tommy leans back into it he holds up his phone and shows Buck the listing for the ranch he's been daydreaming about sharing with someone (this someone) since the first time he saw it.

[thepossummoldypasta]

I Lost Myself to Find You

Tw! a character thinks he's been drugged, strong depictions of someone feeling ill

Steve knew, he knew, it was a bad idea to come to school today. He had thought (ignorantly, stupidly,) that the effects of having his face beaten in and the horrors of almost dying to a fucked up paper-fortune-teller-monster would have faded away over the weekend. Apparently not. Of course not.

Stupid.

Now everything aches. It hurts more than Steve thinks it should. It hurts like he’s a walking livewire bruise. Like every muscle has torn apart and hurled itself back together with no care. He doesn't remember being so absolutely fucked yesterday.

It's pretty obvious that he’s in a bad way. Steve’s shuffling down the hallway like a zombie, arms curled around a suffering stomach that he doesn't even remember Johnathan socking. Not to mention the smell. Steve’s set to present as a beta and even he can smell how absolutely pathetic he is right now.

It's only second period and he longs to be back home with the covers pulled over his head.

Fuck it.

Steve turns around. O’Donnell can fuck herself; Steve’s insides are falling out and he's got priorities. His internal organs trying to eat each other has got to be more important than English class.

It's a long trek to his car parked at the far, desolate, corner of the lot. What stupid mountain was Nancy’s little brother going on about the last time he saw him? Card-something? Steve feels like that. Like he’s crawling lamb-like across some epic snowy mountain, about to collapse.

Where's his car?

Steve knows where he parked his car, but he doesn't see it in the lot. Or he thinks he doesn't; Steve can't see much of anything through the spots dancing in his vision. Maybe the swirling is making it harder to see than the spots are? Either way Steve’s got no idea how far away he is from the bimmer, lost amongst a swimming sea of metal.

He needs to sit down; to yell at his thoughts until they regroup.

Is he even in the parking lot anymore? fuck is he even in the parking lot? The swirling feeling is worse, now it's like he’s swaying on a giant seesaw crossed with a carrousel. Steve’s head feels heavy, like there is cotton and sand thumping around in there instead of brains and rational thoughts.

At least the spots in his vision are gone. If Steve focuses enough--despite his eyes mimicking a fuzzy camera lens zooming in and out—he can see boldly colored evergreen leaves and icy moss. Yep, not in the parking lot.

Probably not a good idea to wander around in the snow blanketed woods with no jacket. The weather is cold enough that Steve could freeze!

Well…

He could freeze if it didn't feel like a fire had been lit in his stomach and across his shoulders.

It's almost near dark, Hawkins is firmly in that time of year when the sun disappears early, but the sky remains dully lit. The shade cast by the trees Steve is trudging between dims the earth even further but everything seems so vivid to him that it almost doesn't matter.

It shouldn't still be this easy to see. It's almost like the preternatural senses that he’s heard come after presentation. Even Betas gain heightened senses, but Steve hasn't presented as one yet, so why is it so bright?

Suddenly it occurs to Steve that he might have been drugged.

Tommy did say he would get back at Steve for abandoning him; The really sad thing is that Steve can picture his used-to-be best friend slipping him something as payback. What would this even be? God, he hopes its not acid.

Steve knows what he has to do now, where he has to go.

Eddie can help

When you think about it, at first the idea seems utterly absurd, but Steve knows Eddie. Sure, the alpha is a major freak, but he’s also Hawkins High’s most prominent (only) drug dealer. He’s bought from Eddie. Every time Steve picked up the “party favors” his friends pressured him into getting, Eddie would get this look on his face and tell Steve that he was always there if he had a bad trip.

And that’s what this is right? It's just a bad trip—even if it was potentially caused by the one guy he used to trust more than anybody else in the world—but now Steve actually has a plan! He just has to make it to Eddie!

Shockingly that might be easier to do than one might think. Very luckily Steve knows these woods and knows them well. In abrupt clarity Steve realizes the route he must have taken to get here and therefore the route he needs to take to get to Eddie.

If he’s in the woods he must have wandered south out of the Highschool parking lot, weaved between houses and the thin tree line, and eventually got himself into the woods proper. He doesn't think he took any turns, so if he just heads west, he’ll either head straight to Forest Hills or pop back out on a road he can follow to get there.

After a small setback—because he can’t follow the sun to find west—Steve is on his way.

The hike through the frost and snow is still oddly easier than it should be. Steve feels like his body is running on fever and instinct. As he walks Steve absentmindedly starts to hum “Over the River and Through the Woods” under his breath, hoping familiar music will speed up the flow of time.

He can still see fairly well; well enough to see (and attempt to ignore) what seems like a little girl following him from close behind. Steve knows it’s probably just the ghosts of his foggy mind coming to haunt him but the idea of a young pup all alone in the woods makes something in him, ache.

Soon enough, she slips back into the shrouds of trees. The pup won’t answer when Steve calls for her; and though it hurts—oh how it hurts—Steve reasons he cannot stop and weep over the spirits conjured by his drug addled brain. He’s almost there.

It should be startling how direct the path Steve took is but he doesn't care about that. He’s almost there. Lights shimmer in the distance, if he listens closely, it's almost like he can hear the soft thrum of distant music permeating the forest floor.

Metallica.

Eddie.

The Munson trailer seems to rise from the freezing mist, welcoming and safe. Steve sees Eddie’s window aglow in the evening and a sigh of relief breaks free from his troubled chest. Steve knows Eddie’s trailer, his window (Eddie refused to sell anything worse than weed anywhere but at home), the certainty is a comfort.

Eddie promised he would help him, here Steve will be safe. Quickly but clumsily Steve flies like a moth to the soft window-light. All sense has left him now; Steve claws and whimpers at the window pathetically until it opens.

“Harrington?” Eddie sticks his head out to greet him, “What are you doing?” Steve whines at the harshness of the whisper. He knows it wasn't meant to be mean but it still feels upsetting somehow.

“Eddie, I need help” the plea is pitchy and sad even to his own ears but still Steve presses on. “Eddie, you promised!”

The poor alpha startles, sucks in a breath and leaps to settle the boy crying at his window.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie flounders. “Steve, calm down, we can sort this out.” no matter how Eddie tries to sooth him Steve does not get a hold of himself. It takes several, long, anxious, moments before Eddie retreats back from the window.

Steve wails.

Why would Eddie leave? why when he said Steve could always come to him?

Steve has never felt so fragile before, He doesn't remember feeling this heartbreaking lonesomeness since maybe before high school. It could be just a culmination of every emotion he's felt and locked away because of the hell he was pulled into. it could be that this was just the last straw. Either way for some stupid reason he feels a small twinge of abandonment in his bruised heart.

All of a sudden arms envelop him in warmth and care.

"Hey, lets get you inside, okay Steve?" Eddie murmurs by his ear. "Jesus man, what are ya a space heater or something? You have your own vapor cloud." Steve doesn't think he was actually supposed to hear that part, but when he turns around, sure enough, a fine mist rises from his shoulders and trails after him like a sorrowful miasma.

how did that happen? When did that happen?

The Munson trailer is warmer and more comforting the anywhere else Steve has been in his entire life. Something rumbles deep contentedly in his chest; its so nice.

Eddie leads him over to a small couch covered in more through pillows on it than a couch thrice its size would need and Steve is glad to rest there.

"Okay man, what do you need?" Eddie questions when the other boy is settled in, "What can I do?"

Steve can't muster actual words but somehow the alpha understands. Swiftly Steve finds himself under a bundle of blankets to situate any way he wants while Eddie steps away once more. This time it isn't so bad; Steve still feels unhappy that Eddie isn't with him, however unlike last time Eddie had told Steve where he was going and was still in his line of sight as the Alpha goes to call his uncle.

"Hey Wayne" Steve hears Eddie greet his uncle. There is a brief back and forth about why Eddie is calling, and how "yes it is suspicious for you to call this late", before Eddie admits defeat. "look, You really cant get mad about this okay?" Eddie stresses into the phone. "I picked up another stray."

Another? but could that mean--

"I-I know Wayne," Eddie interrupts Steve's train of thought, "but I really gotta help my friend out okay? He's in heat."

The conversation continues at a steady murmur, but Steve can barely hear it, let alone make sense of the yeses and i-knows being passed back and forth.

Steve can't stay. He should have known taking advantage of someone's hospitality would have consequences. Here he is, a pathetic lump, on Eddies couch when he should be focusing on his omega! His omega in heat no less!

Steve struggles to free himself from the blankets and pillows he hadn't realized were completely surrounding him. Distantly he hears Eddie frantically tell his uncle he has to go and slam the handset back into the cradle as Steve almost tumbles to the floor.

"Hey! Hey! Steve what's wrong man?" Eddie manages to catch Steve by the shoulders holding him in place.

"No! Let me go!" Steve cries, thrashing in Eddies hold "You should be taking care of your omega!"

Steve nearly breaks free but Eddie wraps around him. now he's trapped in a hold more like a hug than a trap pushing him back into place.

"Well I don't know if we're quite there yet big boy, but that is what I'm trying to do!" The Alpha huffs.

"No you should be with him! He's the one in heat!" the cry pierces into the night, Its so sharp Steve is almost shocked it cam from his own mouth. Eddie makes a confused noise--that might have been a word if Steve was paying attention--he shifts his hold once more, putting Steve at arms length so he can look in his eyes.

"Steve!"

"What!" he shouts in return, Eddie looks deep in his eyes despite Steve's best efforts to look away.

"You're in heat." Eddie says it with such conviction it's startling. In fact Steve is so caught off guard that he goes limp enough to be laid back against the couch.

What--

Eddie coos at him softly, Tucking the blankets back around Steve, even going so far as to fluff a few of the pillows.

"oh honey," Eddie says sweetly as he brushes a hand along Steve's hair in a way he would normally despise, "You really didn't know? is this your first one?"

Steve nods against the alphas careful hand, taking it to nuzzle. Literally three hours ago--heck five minutes ago--if anyone had asked Steve if he was in heat he would have laughed in their face. Now the low, thrumming, ache has settled back in his gut and inclines him to think differently.

What else could this be really? well, he thought drugs, but hindsight and a safe place to rest vanishes the thought. looking back on the day all the cramps, the post-presentation senses, the fire that's settled within him, it all seems to make sense.

(a distant part of his brain--the one that will be embarrassed in a couple days time--tells him that the emotional sensitivity was also probably the result of his surprise presentation. That it was the natural, sudden shift, in hormones and pheromones effecting his already slightly addled brain)

"I don't want to leave, Eddie." Steve eventually sniffles against the warmth of the alpha. He reaches up to hold him gently and Eddie sinks into the hug.

"You don't have to go anywhere sweetheart. I'll look after you, I promise."

Later, after many cuddles and complaints from the new omega about how he "thought heats were supposed to be sexy", Steve will reflect on this week as probably the best one of his entire life. Up until that point of course. After all he has the rest of his life with the most caring alpha he's ever known ahead of him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Yay It's Done! Feel free to come check this out on Ao3 as well because I've decided to cross post as many of my works as I can =]

[diazsdimples]

Prompt 2! coming back for another kiss + BuckTommy

BUCKTOMMY MY BELOVED okay okay I got this

Buck was not sulking.

He doesn't sulk. He's a grown man of 30-something, with an equally grown 40-something boyfriend (although calling Tommy his boyfriend makes him feel like he's in high school again), so sulking doesn't play a huge part of his day to day life. They're mature. They talk about things.

Except today, Buck is pouting a little. And in his defence, he's allowed to. This is the first time him and Tommy's shifts haven't overlapped perfectly to give them at least 24 hours where they're both off, and Buck is not pleased.

They're spooning in bed together, the early morning August sun streaming in through the windows of Buck's loft, and Tommy has one arm circled around Buck's waist and the other under his neck, pressing small but loving kisses into his shoulder.

"Evan, what's going on? You've been quiet all morning."

Buck sighs. "Nothing I just - I'm gonna miss you," he says quietly, pulling the sheet up to his face so it muffles his voice. Tommy brushes another kiss to the back of Buck's neck and Buck snuggles further into his arms. "This is the longest we've gone without seeing each other between shifts."

Tommy pulls Buck even closer to him and whispers "I'm sorry baby, I know."

They lay in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the peace and quiet before Tommy's alarm is set to go off. Tommy rubs his hand over Buck's chest and down his arm. He feels Buck tense and relax as his fingers drag across his skin, and he presses another kiss to the back of his neck.

"I can cancel my shift today, call in sick," he murmurs, his hand resting on Buck's forearm.

"Don't be stupid," Buck snorts, "they'd see through that in a second."

"Okay well, maybe I can just call out sick tomorrow."

"Tommy, stop," Buck turns over in Tommy's arms to face him, and gives him a soft smile, "you don't have to do that. I'm being dramatic, I'll survive."

"Hey," Tommy leans forward and presses his lips against Buck's forehead, then down his nose, "if I'm being honest, I've kinda been looking forward to the chance to miss you."

Buck blinks and tilts his head back to look at Tommy. "What do you mean?"

"I just -" Tommy looks away from Buck, a small blush rising to his cheeks, "I've never had to miss someone before. It's kinda nice, you know? Having someone I care so much about that I can't bear the thought of being away from."

Buck looks at Tommy, his face open and his eyes shining, and a wide smile stretches across his face. He pulls Tommy into a hug, their bodies pressed against each other, and kisses the side of his head. This thing with Tommy hasn't been going on long - maybe 4 months - but Buck is already beginning to feel more for Tommy than he's felt for any other of his past relationships. He's always been an all-or-nothing type of person, and with Tommy it's no different.

Tommy presses another kiss to Buck's shoulder, and Buck hums contentedly. "You wanna make the most of these last few minutes?"

Tommy lifts his head up, his eyes darkening, and a wicked grin spreads across his face. He rolls himself over so that he's above Buck, and kisses him, their mouths moving together in sync. Tommy trails his hand down Buck's stomach, fingers running over his abs and curling in the light dusting of blond hairs just below Buck's navel. Buck groans into Tommy's mouth, his tongue running over his teeth and he can feel Tommy smirk into the kiss.

"Don't tease me," Buck whimpers, kissing Tommy with more fervour, and Tommy just chuckles.

"'M not teasing," he counters, kissing down Buck's jaw sloppily. "Not if I plan to follow through."

Buck grabs his chin and pulls him up for another bruising kiss, their lips making slick, wet noises as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

"Is teasing, if you're just gonna -"

They're cut off as Tommy's alarm blares, ringing through the room. Buck groans and Tommy rests his forehead against his with a sigh.

"I gotta go, sweetheart," Tommy says as he rolls over, silencing his alarm with a swipe of his forefinger. He looks genuinely regretful as he pulls the covers off himself and begins to get dressed.

Buck swallows back a lump in his throat and props himself up on his elbow to watch. "I know. You go, save some lives. I'll be here when you get back."

Tommy smiles, buttoning his shirt and doing up his belt, and he walks over to the bed, leaning over to cup Buck's face in his hands and kissing him gently.

"I'll call you, yeah?"

"Yeah," Buck says, "text me when you can, I want to know you're okay."

Tommy nods, his thumb brushing over Buck's cheekbone, and Buck leans into the touch, barely able to contain his whine as Tommy pulls away.

"Tommy, wait!" Buck calls as Tommy crosses the loft, pausing just before the top step. He turns around and Buck throws his arms out in front of him, making grabby hands and pouting, pleading with his eyes.

Tommy laughs - he knows exactly what Buck's asking for - and strides back to the bed, taking Buck's face in his hands once more and giving him another kiss, this one just a bit more heated. He pulls back, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on Buck's cheekbones, and gives him a wink.

"See you later, Evan."

"Be safe," Buck whispers.

Tagging some Bucktommy mutuals

@theotherbuckley @bidisasterevankinard @watchyourbuck @wikiangela @loveyouanyway (if anyone wants to be added to my Bucktommy taglist pls lmk)

Make 'em swoon prompts!

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Hi! For the ficlet prompts: For Tarlos: 🫶🏻 Breakfast date For BuckTommy: 🛏️ There's only one bed, and it's… a single (or broken? Like sunken down in the center or something. Whichever option sparks joy. 😂)

There's only one bed, and it's a single

A few weeks into their relationship, Buck wonders why Tommy still hasn't invited him over to his house. Somehow, they always seem to end up in the loft, apart form that one memorable date that ended in the 118's locker room – he’s still proud of himself for keeping his mouth shut about it the next day, even though his face probably screamed „ask me what happened last night“. Anyway, Tommy often just turns up at his door or picks him up from work and drives to the loft as a matter of course, and for a while Buck thinks it's just because he likes his place so much. It's tastefully furnished, right? And since he owns a couch again, Star Wars movie nights with Tommy next to him are much nicer.

It's just... Eddie had been so enthusiastic about Tommy's house, the garage, the dōjō; and Buck – Tommy’s boyfriend, mind you – hasn’t even seen a glimpse of all that. There are, of course, many possible explanations for this. Maybe Tommy’s a slob and it's always untidy (Eddie didn't mention this), or he's ashamed of his furniture (Eddie didn't mention this) or he's currently renovating (nope, not a word about that from Eddie). Either these made-up motives are as silly as they sound in Buck's head, or the real reason is him. Both could be true. 

One evening, after a very good dinner (it's perfectly acceptable to praise yourself, Buck thinks, especially after receiving top cooking honors from Bobby), it's time to grab the bull by the horns. 

“We're gonna sleep at your house tonight,” he says.

Tommy sets his glass down, blinks and replies, “We’ve basically just arrived at your place, Evan.”

"Right, but you’re staying overnight at my place about three times a week.“

“Didn't have the feeling that it was too much,” says Tommy with a wink.

Buck is melting away. This man has such a magnetic effect... But not this time, he swears to himself. He's let this slide long enough. If there's one thing he's learned, it's that problems should be addressed. This one isn't necessarily a problem, but it's a little oddity that has piqued his curiosity. And perhaps it also scratches his ego a little.

“No, I love it when you're here,” he says, feeling his cheeks flush. “But Eddie keeps telling me about your house and...”

“What is Eddie doing in this conversation now?” 

Tommy sounds genuinely confused, and he can't blame him. Buck takes a deep breath. 

“I want to see how you live.”

That's not quite the right approach, but at least Tommy smiles his adorable smile, which makes his face go all scrunchy. His answer, however, is not an exuberant “okay, let's get going”. Instead, he says, “That's sweet, but I'm rarely at home. It’s actually not that exciting.”

Somehow, it is, at least it starts getting annoying; Buck's curiosity is hard to tame when he believes he's discovered some kind of riddle. While it’s certainly exciting to see that there still are some things about Tommy that remain mysterious to him, his house shouldn't be on the top list of sweet secrets he holds. 

“I’m getting a vibe that you don't want me there, Tommy.”

“It's not like that.”

“Then what is it? Do you have any porn magazines lying around? Don't you want me to see your underwear drawer?”

“Evan...”

“Are there pictures of your ex-boyfriends on the walls?” Now Buck is on a roll. “Do you collect tasteless art? Is your house just too small for two people to be comfortable?”

“Evan,” Tommy groans. Wide-eyed, Buck glares at him, until Tommy finally exhales loudly and adds, “Yeah, it's too small. You're not going to give it a rest, are you?“

“My therapist says I should talk about my feelings. And there's no one I'd rather do that with than you, Tommy, and right now... well. Honestly, it's driving me crazy.”

“All right,” goes Tommy, getting up and taking his hand, ”there's no point in delaying it any longer anyway. Come with me. We're going to my place – but whether you want to sleep there remains to be seen.”

That, of course, was an even more mysterious answer, but Buck jumps to his feet immediately.

From the outside, Tommy's house looked neither particularly small nor large. The most remarkable thing about the single-storey, flat-roofed building was probably that it stood in the middle of a terraced housing estate in the suburbs. It wasn't an area Buck would have associated with Tommy, and there was probably a story behind it that he was eager to hear one day. 

Inside, it was just as unremarkable. This was the house of a single man who often did 24-hours-shifts and also had very excessive hobbies that made him leave the house quite often. In other words, a comparatively interchangeable place. Eddie hadn't mentioned anything about that either, he'd probably been blinded by the flights to Vegas and the garage. There were no photos of ex-boyfriends on the walls, no obvious porn movies in the impressive DVD collection, no tasteless art; there weren't even any potted plants, “I just don't have a green thumb,” says Tommy. 

“I don't understand why you didn't already show me your house,” Buck says, a little disappointed that he still couldn't solve the puzzle.

“Hm,” Tommy utters, and it sounds almost apologetic. He wraps his arms around Buck and adds, “You're here now.”

„Yes, and I forgot a change of clothes. You’re gonna have to lend me some tomorrow.“

“You're really determined to spend the night here?”

“You bet,” Buck says, his eyes roaming the room, ”show me your bedroom and I'll show you how determined I am.”

“Then get ready for a cold shower,” Tommy returns, taking Buck's hand and leading him further into his house. 

The door opened to another plain, rather functionally furnished room with a built-in wardrobe, a second door that probably led to the bathroom, a large window without any curtains and virtually no accessories. Then Buck’s gaze falls on the bed, and his jaw drops.

“Well, I told you it was small...”

“I thought you meant your house.”

It was the bed. A narrow, single bed. It wasn't an unusual place to sleep, of course; millions of bedrooms were furnished like this. Buck just couldn't understand why anyone would voluntarily give up the comfort of a kingsize when they were tall and beefy like his adorable boyfriend with the very embarrassed look on his face. 

“W-wait a minute. Is that why we always spent the night at my place? Because you’re sleeping in... this crib?”

“Hey, I like this bed,” Tommy replies, grimacing. “It's just not a good place for two. Hold on, what were you thinking, Evan?“

“Well, for a while I thought you just liked my shower...”

“... it's an excellent shower, I must say.”

"Well, to be honest, I thought it’s not that important to you."

Tommy looks intently at his face, shaking his head. 

“Did you seriously think you weren't important enough for me? I thought we had clarified that point by now. And for once, I'm not talking about the excellent sex, honey.“

"Which would be … not that comfortable in that bed," Buck says when the penny finally drops. “Adorable, Tommy. As if the kitchen table wasn't enough for us.”

“But would you want to sleep on it?”

“Good point,” Buck mutters. “We really can't both fit in the bed.”

“Gonna be tough. And… actually, I really prefer your shower.“

“I'll probably have to talk to the landlord about the water consumption.”

"Well, we don’t need to move together so soon," Tommy argues. “But you could help me buy a bigger bed, how about that?”

“Excellent,” says Buck. “But we have to be sure it’s too small for the things I’d love to do with you.”

He pushes the surprised Tommy onto the bed with a casual nudge.

“Fine,” Tommy replies with a grin before closing Buck's mouth with a kiss, ”but we're sleeping at your place tonight.”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Thank you for the adorable prompt, @herrmannhalsteadproduction. I'm gonna need to skip the Tarlos one because I'm running out of spare time, but this was fun 😂❤️

[themultifandomgal]

Isaiah Jesus-Wrapped Around Her Finger

Here’s another request!

I stand starring at Isaiah after telling him the news that I'm pregnant. We have been courting one another behind my brothers backs now for a year, but this was definitely not planned

"Say something, please" I beg

"Your brothers are going to kill me"

"Bloody hell Is, that's what your worried about? I just told you I'm pregnant"

"Of course that's what I'm worried about. When you tell them I loose all chance of being a father and living" he throws his arms in the air

"Oh don't be so dramatic Is. They won't kill you. Force you to marry me, most likely"

"Whoever said that marrying you would be forced?" Isaiah looks at me with a frown

"Were you really going to ask my brothers if you could marry me?" I cross my arms with a raised eyebrow

"In the future yeah, but looks like we will have to marry quicker"

"Tommy and Grace didn't marry straight away, maybe Tommy will be more relaxed about all of this"

"At least let me prepare myself for the rathe of the Shelby's"

"Fine but we tell them end of this week"

The end of the week comes by way to quickly and now I'm stood in front of my whole family about to tell them that I'm pregnant

"Alright YN. Out with it" Tommy says placing an unlit cigarette in his mouth before lighting it up

"Well erm. I guess we should just come out with it"

"We?" Arthur questions looking between me and and Isaiah

"Yes. Err we have been, involved with each other for a while now and...."

"And what?" Tommy asks with an angry expression

"I'm pregnant"

"What!" John is the first one out of his chair "you better be bloody joking"

"Calm down John. YNs not a kid anymore. She's the same age as we were when we had..."

"We were married" John points at Esme

"Fuck sake YN. I don't care that you've been busy behind our backs because your an adult but how stupid can you be to get pregnant?"

"Arthur that's unfair. You could say the same for me"

"I did" Arthur retaliates looking at Ada. I look at Tommy worried because he hasn't said anything yet

"Tom?"

"Well. Can't say I'm not disappointed, but I got Grace pregnant out of marriage and John boy only married Martha because she got pregnant so I can't get to angry. However. I think Isaiah and I should have a little chat"

"Oh Tommy leave him be" Polly says getting up and walking over to me "congratulations sweetheart" she pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek

"How can you all be so chilled out by this?" Arthur asks annoyed "Isaiah was meant to keep YN safe and away from men"

"He did just that didn't he" John grumbles. A fire is then lit up inside me and I suddenly get very brave

"Ok wether you like it or not, I'm pregnant and I'm having this baby. Isaiah and I aren't getting married just because I'm pregnant. So you can either all act like my family or fuck off" I notice Tommy smirking. John and Arthur both settle back down, still grumbling about how they aren't happy with me. I roll my eyes and then I'm pulled into another hug, this time by Ada and Esme

"Congratulations YN" Ada says

"Thank you"

"So am I going to survive long enough to see my child?" Isaiah asks

"You'll survive long enough to raise the child, love the child and take care of my sister" Tommy stubs his cigarette out and leans back in his chair

"Yeah, yeah course"

"Thank you Tommy" I run over to him and hug him being grateful that he was able to keep everyone calm, or as calm as the Shelby boys can be

"She's always had him wrapped round her bloody finger" Arthur grumbles takes a swig of his drink. I roll my eyes at the comment. All my brothers love me so him and John will get over this eventually.

[yikesharringrove]

Nobody knows what's wrong with Steve Harrington.

He was there one day, and the next, he was a shell of himself.

It wasn't even really the mall fire that did it.

He was okay, seen around town a few times, although more withdrawn than he had been a few years ago, but that change has been slow. It's been happening for longer than just summer break.

But then the mall burned down, and Harrington could be seen applying to new jobs, tied at the hip with some weirdo incoming senior band geek.

And then, all of a sudden, nothing.

The weirdo band geek was all by herself.

The maroon BMW sat gathering dust in the driveway of the big house, the paint getting sunfaded.

The blinds on the bedroom window were drawn.

And Steve wasn't dead.

He just wasn't really alive anymore.

He sat, well, he laid, every minute of every day, in his darkened bedroom. IN his bed.

He barely moved. He barely ate.

And nobody knew why.

There were whispers around town.

He'd gotten injured in the fire. He was on house arrest. He'd skipped town.

But really, what no one knew,

was that the second Billy Hargrove's body was locked six feet under, Steve's heart was buried with him.

It had taken a long time to arrange a funeral.

Billy's body was burned and broken.

(And government property).

So, no open casket at the Irish Catholic mass that served as a funeral.

His dad spoke.

His sister spoke.

A teacher spoke.

A friend spoke.

And Steve Harrington sat in the very back row, twisting a piece of loose thread around his finger, over and over again.

He left early, slipped out the back before anyone could see the imminent breakdown.

And he hasn't been seen since.

He's thin.

Much thinner than he's been in a long time.

And he's pale. Really pale. His olive skin tinged a sickly yellow.

But there's no point in any of it anymore.

Because the love of his life died, and nobody knows.

There has been activity at his house, people going in and out.

The band geek trying to lure him into the shower. The loud know-it-all kid speaking in a hushed tone and begging him to eat.

But he didn't feel anything anymore.

And he didn't feel there was a point to his existence.

He thought that maybe, wasting away into nothing was easier than the stabbing pain, the guilt and regret he felt every moment of everyday.

Because he can't even mourn him.

He couldn't speak at the funeral.

Nobody knew they were friends, let alone more than that.

He couldn't cry over the grave.

He couldn't wear black and walk around like some Victorian woman.

Life goes on.

But he doesn't know how to keep going.

Because his life was Billy.

They would see one another every day. Sometimes more than once.

They would spend their nights together, they would drive together. They would sit on the couch and make fun on the whatever was on the t.v. together.

And now, he's alone.

And doing everything they used to do, it's agony.

It's agony when for a split second, he forgets that his love is dead and buried, and he wants to turn to say something to him, and finds empty air.

He doesn't know how he could ever cope with the crushing disappointment of being alone.

The typewriter is his mom's idea.

He took a typing class in school, just a semester learning about how to actually use one of the clunky things.

(He and Tommy used to take out the springs so that theirs wouldn't work and they didn't have to actually so anything in class that day.)

He woke up one morning with it sitting on his desk. Brand new. A stack of paper on the right, one piece already loaded in.

It took him six days to type anything.

And when he did, it was garbage. Nonsensical feelings covered in correction fluid and typos and tears. Stupid ramblings about his absolute misery.

But, it did help. A tiny bit.

He's never been good at writing.

Which is why he left the finished product in Robin's mailbox and biked away as fast as he could. (He doesn't really like driving anymore.)

He didn't want to face her as she read it.

He left a note, explaining what it was.

She never made a comment that she got it, but two days later the draft was back in his mailbox, red pen corrections and comments covering the pages.

He took her suggestions. Edited out what she felt should go, added in where she needed more detail.

And it took six months.

But he has a novel.

Or, something like it.

It's a sort of memoir.

All the events are true. All the feelings are true.

But nobody would believe it was real.

Certainly not anyone on the list of independent publishers Robin had slipped into his mailbox with her final round of edits.

Steve typed each of the five copies by hand.

It took him months, somehow longer than the actual thing had taken him to write.

But he sent them off, manuscripts in sealed envelopes. A queer romantic science fiction novel. Something with a devastating ending.

Something that most certainly didn't happen to himself.

He didn't receive any notice for several weeks, and the waiting would've been the worst part, if all of this hadn't been born out of the gory death of the love of his life.

But it was.

And the waiting was the second worst part.

Until a letter.

A publisher asking for a meeting.

Robin accompanied him on the Greyhound to Chicago, but she didn't come into the meeting with him. She had done enough already, it's time for him to finish the story.

The person he met with told him she cried when she read his story. Told him if I ever lost my wife the way that the Steve in the story lost his Billy, I don't know how I could go on.

The book was published under the name S. Hargrove.

Because if he couldn't have Billy, at least their story could have his name.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi again! Here's the second Henry Sherlock X Peaky idea I had if you wanted! It would be a Sister Holmes X Tommy Shelby where reader is Tom's secretary and has just stated dating him but hasn't told her family yet because she hasn't seen them in a while. Then maybe one day a girl (badly disguised as a boy) is caught snooping around the betting shop and as Arthur takes her to Tom's office for questioning the reader immediately clocks it as her little sister who a agreed to spy for Sherlock. Then reader finds him and is berating him for putting Enola in danger while Sherlock is mad about her ruining their cover because he's investigating Tom for a case and as their arguing the reader says she knows Tom didn't do it because he was with her at the time (maybe she reveals the hickies) and Sherlock just freezes and goes into big bro mode while the Shelby family is trying to figure out what's going on because for once they didn't commit this crime and they haven't heard about the readers family yet. And yeah! That was the other idea😂 idk which to send in so you can choose which you'd rather do! Feel free to change anything about them too! I just desire some Sherlock x Peaky goodness 😂 ❤️❤️ also I hope those weren't too long I just didn't know how to explain them shortly!

Have a great night/day/time! ❤️❤️ and remember: GO YOU!!

Hey Love,

Hope you enjoy this and thank you for waiting so long! Was away on vacation (realized I didn't post that I was away.) Thanks again for these requests! they were so fun!!!

Warnings: Mention of child trafficking/conflict between family / peaky blinders-related themes

You were tired after being up all night. The conditions were nothing to complain about though. You lay in bed thinking about the chaos that surrounded your boss, and your relationship to him. You knew he wasn’t always a good man. But just like the morning sun streaming through your curtains, your mind was hazy. 

This feeling was not something you had experienced before. Complete ease. You were relaxed when he was around, and you even enjoyed being around his family. The feeling was addictive and considering the family you were born into it wasn't a mystery how you had ended up with such an appetite. 

While the Shelby family could match your folks for chaos, they had a consuming warmth about them that was foreign to you.

You thought long and hard on your way to the betting shop. This emotion could be a result of lovemaking, you knew enough about brain chemistry to know that there was a scientific side to these things. But why were you so happy the rest of the time? Why were you becoming so attached to him and his family? 

You got to the betting shop and were thankful to see tea brewing in the kitchen upstairs. You poured a cup and grabbed a muffin from the counter before settling in at your desk. 

Your mind was finally distracted from trying to sort out your feelings. Relief flooded you as you tied your hair out of the way and dug into the various file folders. You were doing your favorite, well, second favorite thing. Analyzing data for patterns. This particular situation was close to your heart you wanted to find the evidence as quickly as possible. 

You were so consumed with compiling evidence that you didn't even notice that something had kicked up in the betting shop until Arthur had dragged the commotion to the front of your desk. 

He held a girl dressed in boy's clothes by the collar of her shirt. The girl was young with a face that resembled yours a great deal. Your stomach dropped and you weren't sure if you wanted to shout at him to take his hands off of her or die of embarrassment. 

Your own appearance was embarrassing enough, your hair was tied up in a scarf, and your thick-rimmed reading glasses probably only made your eyes look even wider than they were. 

“Enola?!” You hissed. Your whole nervous system kicked into high gear. She could have been killed. Arthur could have killed your baby sister. 

You stood up and Arthur was smart enough to release his grip on her. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” She looked up at you with sad eyes, a trick that had been abused many times over the years of broken dolls and colored pencil scribbles on the pages of your books. 

“Arthur?! What on earth-” Polly shouted from upstairs. 

“Eh - Looks like it's being handled,” Arthur called back, giving you a wink. His face told you that he knew exactly what emotion you were feeling. Older sibling to older sibling, he was going to let you handle your sister. Rather than the alternative, which would have been to put her in the cellar till Thomas got back. 

Your stomach dropped. 

“Enola what the fuck.” Your voice was low and she gave up on looking sad. 

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and you fought the urge to slap her. She gave you a meaningful look and slowly said “It’s family business” 

Arthur snorted slightly. Polly was coming down the stairs. 

“I called Thomas. Now what is going-” She started but you cut her off. 

“Enola, why are you here, I trust them with family business.” 

“Well, you shouldn't.” She snorted and you hated the arrogance that was radiating off of the girl. This attitude and performance lead you to the conclusion that Sherlock must have sent her. She was always hungry for his approval. 

“What does Sherlock want with them?” You asked firmly. Her eyes widened slightly but she brushed it off. 

“How long have you worked here?” She said giving you a cold look. 

“I’m the one interrogating you.” You reminded her. “Now where is Sherlock? I’ll just ask him myself.” 

Just then as if summoned he came through the doorway with Thomas. Your temper flared up and you gripped the edge of your desk to steady yourself. 

“Could have just called me.” You said trying to keep the anger out of your voice. 

“You can’t really be trusted on this one.” He said in his usual unbothered tone. You knew that this mess was clearly for an ongoing case and that because you were employed here you couldn't be involved. But it hurt non the less. 

“Right.” You said narrowing your eyes. “Get it over with. Now.” You demanded, unsure if Arthur took a step closer toward you in an effort to show solidarity or if it was in case you ended up being a threat to the family. 

“Well, I’ve been employed by a family to investigate the Shelby family here. Yesterday it became an active murder investigation..” 

You watched an expression cross Thomas’s face and you wondered if he lied about that part of his life being packed away. You caught a look of confusion on Polly’s face that quickly turned into a stony mask. She didn't know what this was about, but she’d turn on you if it was necessary. 

“What family and when?” You said sharply. You felt Thomas’s cold eyes stay locked on you. 

“Harris, I placed the time of death around 8pm.” He bit back. 

“We were at dinner, I can account for his whereabouts for the whole evening. Before you accuse me of lying, I’ve been looking through all their books and paperwork.” You picked up the papers you had been collecting your findings on. You almost wanted to laugh at your luck, for once you had the upper hand. 

“Your employer didn't take too kindly to us after we refused an offer they made regarding the children at the orphanage.” Sherlock’s face paled slightly. “I’ve got more than enough evidence through the paperwork here to put them away for life. Human trafficking.” 

You both entered a famous Holmes staring contest and he knew that he’d messed up. You weren't expecting him to look so angry though. Sure when you were children he would get mad like this. You hoped he was angry at the horrible crimes being committed but something in your stomach said otherwise. 

You wanted to break and look to Thomas. You suddenly became aware yet again that your hair was messy and you were still wearing your glasses. You normally always took them off when someone was approaching. Your cheeks got slightly pink at the thought of him judging you. 

“The real question is what will we do to bring them down,” Polly said trying to break up the tension. 

“Why this?” Sherlock’s voice cut like a knife as he gestured to the room.  

“We can discuss this later.” He didn't budge and you were grateful that Polly started to pull Enola up the stairs. 

“Come let's get you some tea and a snack,” She said quietly. Polly shot Arthur a look over her shoulder. He gave you a reluctant look but followed her out of the room. 

Thomas stayed against the wall looking as relaxed and bored as he always did when in the company of outsiders. 

“Why them?”Sherlock repeated once he realized Thomas wouldn't be leaving, and you realized it was the same question that had been nagging you all morning. 

“They make me happy. He makes me happy.” You said quickly. 

“They are criminals.” 

“These are hard-working people. You snoop around if you like, but you won't find anything criminal here.” You knew this because you handled the transition of the business yourself. 

“I don't like it.” He said firmly and the emotion he was giving off finally made sense. He wasn't one-upping you, he was trying to protect you. 

“You wouldn't like it if it was anyone else either.” You said with a small smile finally understanding. “I’m sure we can help each other with this?” You gestured to the paperwork. 

“Of course.” He nodded and came to stand next to you. Just like that things fell into their usual flow,  you explaining a pattern and him trying to prove you wrong to help narrow it down. You and him went back and forth at a rapid pace and within a few moments, he was in agreement with you. Just then you heard Enola speak. 

“Did I miss all the good stuff?” She asked Thomas and you looked up, breaking your concentration. He gave her a small smile. Once seeing his friendly nature you went back to pulling the last of the stolen documents you hadn't examined yet. 

“I think they have most of it sorted,” Thomas responded. 

“Damn.” Enola sighed. “Was it cool? I bet it was cool.” 

“Very.” Thomas’s response caught you off guard. 

“Sorry about your shop - and everything.” She said in an uncharacteristically shy voice.

“It’s alright. Feel free to stop by anytime.” You watched Enola’s face light up at his words. While they were legal on paper, you knew this was a dangerous place and probably always would be. Was Sherlock's world any different? As long as the family kept her safe she would be fine you reassured yourself. 

“Thanks.” She held out her hand to him.

“Enola.” 

“Thomas.” 

They chatted and your heart got a little bit softer the more they spoke. 

“This is enough to take to the inspector.” Sherlock finally said officially letting you win in his own way.

Your eyes snapped up and looked to Thomas, he was listening to something Enola was explaining. He gave you a nod before looking back at your little sister. 

“Excellent - erm Thanks.” You said not sure how to proceed with things. “I know they have a rough history. But so do we.” 

“You and Enola are my responsibility. I’ll be around.” He gave you a long look before standing up. He shook hands with Thomas and you walked him and Enola to the front door. You said your goodbyes and watched them hail a cab. 

Once they were on their way you took a few deep breaths before going back into the shop. You took your hair down and tucked your glasses into the pocket of your sweater. 

After another moment you went back inside to apologize. 

You came back in and heard their voices from the bottom of the stairs. It sounded like they were filling John in on what he had missed. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like watching a machine or something.” Thomas said and you weren't sure how you felt about his words. You were a receptionist on paper, you could have done many things with your life. But this job was invisible. No one bothered you, no one compared you to either of your big brothers. It was comfortable. When Thomas asked you to take a look at things you were simply going to give him your findings so he could bring those bastards down. You didn't want credit or publicity. You certainly didn't want him to see you as that nerdy girl with glasses who had so often been belittled. 

“Machine or not, she’s one of them. She’s handled everything! She could take us down any moment - you just can’t-” Polly hissed and you felt her words cut through you like hot knives. 

“I’ll handle it.” Thomas cut her off darkly and you felt like you had been dunked into cold water. 

“Tom - at least hear her out. Not like they treated her nicely. Maybe she’s different?” Arthur said in a pleading tone but there was no response. 

You knocked on the door frame to announce your presence. Sharp eyes landed on you and you took a breath trying to look composed. 

“Walk me home?” You asked Thomas and he looked at you for a long moment as if he was studying something strange in a museum. He gave you a nod and took your arm. 

He didn't say a word the whole way back. You felt his eyes land on you periodically and each time your heart rate sped up. These were last looks and you could feel parts of you start o spin out of control. 

You opened the door to your flat with shaking hands. Once you pushed it open the stuffy air made it even harder to breathe. He shut the door and locked it, the sound making your chest constrict even tighter. You felt like you were being suffocated, but now wasn't the time to show such emotions. 

“Why did you help us?” The question was simple and you were relieved he was going to hear you out, even if he just had the patience for a fraction of the story, it would lessen the burden on your chest significantly. 

“You needed help. You wanted to be better.” It was hard to get your voice up above a whisper. Your mind flashed to all the times you wondered about him and his family and why they would be converting their business over to be completely legal in the first place. They would reach much farther opportunities being shady. What was in it for them? But there was always something shining in Thomas’s eyes that answered your question. Pride. He didn't care about making more money at this point. He cared about his family being respected after a hard life of being dismissed and shit on. 

You remembered the various balls and social events you had been forced into at Mycrofts side. All the men that had tried to take your hand in marriage. All from grand wealthy families that had started much like Thomas had. It was unavoidable. You thought about how your life would have been as a wife instead of a gangster's girlfriend. 

“You could have turned us in any time. Given your bothers the tip-off”

Brothers plural. So he knew Mycroft too. Fuck. 

“Why would I?” You mumbled feeling defeated. “They care about themselves. Well, not Sherlock, he cares in his own way. Enola is just a kid still. Mycroft only cares about himself.”

“He hasn't pressured you for information on us?” 

“We would have to talk for him to do that. As far as he knows I’m a “worthless spinster living within the dregs of society.” You mocked his voice feeling frustrated. If his existence was the thing to fuck this up for you, you would find a way to make him pay for it. 

“Why didn't you tell me about your family?” He was still as cold as you expected him to be but there was a slight toe of hurt in his voice. 

“Well, there's the Holmes family that everyone sees and then the other side. I just - I really like it here. Your family is - more - they like me. They seem to enjoy having me around. It’s not a big competition all the time. And then you -” Your voice cut and tears started to become unavoidable. 

“Well, nothing bad has happened.” he shrugged. “Mycroft certainly doesn't know we're together.” He said with a smile. You wanted to know how he knew that.

“Everything was destroyed anyway. It would be my word against yours, and as you can see no one listens to me anyway.” 

“I do.” He said and pulled you against him into a tight hug. 

_________________

He proposes shortly after.

Mycroft finds out and needs to be taken to the hospital because he thinks he's having a heart attack

Sherlock randomly shows up at Arrow House while You are shopping with Enola. Examining the whole house while Tommy smokes and follows him. Eventually, Sherlock agrees that this is a fine house for you to run. That if Thomas fucks up in any way that Sherlock would kill him and that Sherlock was sure he wouldn't get caught. They shake on it.

They end up working together occasionally. Enola becoming very attached to Esme & Polly. Sherlock eventually becoming fond of the family and occasionally accepting a dinner invitation when he had time.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Man (gn), I have this idea for a breakup/makeup story for Buck and Tommy that I'll probably place in the Denial-Verse.

I think it's going to happen after Gerrard has taken over the 118. And for weeks, Buck's been coming home and decompressing. He's been talking about the experience of it, and Tommy's been there for him. He's been listening. He understands just how bad it can be to work under Gerrard. And it's draining for both of them to work through it, especially as it becomes a facet of their lives.

But sometimes in a relationship, one partner needs more love and care than the other for a period of time. It's a balance of giving, and you support who you love. So, Tommy can do that. He can be there for Buck.

But living with that constant low-level to high-level trauma isn't good for anyone.

Slowly but surely, they both become a little raw and stressed and prickly because dealing with that sort of stuff for a long period of time can get to people.

Then, Tommy has the worst shift. One of the worst shifts in his life. It was genuinely terrible and there were some horrible moments not just because of how bad the shift went, but because people didn't treat Tommy particularly well either.

And so he comes home to Buck's apartment, and he tries to start talking about the shift. And Buck talks about his own shift, but this hits Tommy the wrong way. Because they're always talking about how bad Buck's shifts are now. And sometimes, maybe Tommy's shift was bad and he wants to talk about it. And Tommy's feeling insecure about how it feels like this is some sort of "my shift was worse" competition with how Buck framed his response to Tommy talking about his shift from hell.

And they get into an argument.

Not because either of them feels like they don't deserve to have space to talk about what's happened to them, but from a clear misunderstanding and a tiredness from both having horrible shifts and a rawness from the last few weeks that has made them both a little less patient than they usually are. And neither of them are exactly expressing themselves in a way that makes them feel like they're actually getting anywhere with this fight, their first big fight.

And Tommy decides to go home to his apartment. To calm down. To clear his head. To try not to be mad about this because maybe he gets to have a moment to talk about bad shit, even if Buck's going through it too.

And Buck's not happy about it, he says as much, but he doesn't stop Tommy from leaving. And for Tommy's part, Tommy expressly tells Buck this isn't him leaving leaving, he's not abandoning Buck, but he needs the space, and Buck concedes to that. And respects Tommy when Tommy asks Buck to let Tommy be the one to reach out when he's ready to finish this conversation.

And Buck's confused and annoyed and frustrated and mad at himself for not understanding what went wrong with the conversation; at Tommy for putting a pause button on the argument. He starts going around asking for advice to figure out what to do because he wants to work through this, he just doesn't know how.

And Tommy becomes insular. He places back that distance he used to have before he started to open up with Evan's influence, but through prodding from his friends - from Lucy and Melton and Chimney and Eddie - Tommy concedes and starts to actually work through why he reacted like that; tries to figure out how he can talk to Buck about this.

And after another shift, Tommy meets up with Buck at the 118 to pick him up from work because Tommy always picks Buck up from work on his second shift of the week, that's just what they do. Which is tense more because of Gerrard, but they walk out together. Tommy drives them.

And the drive is a little aimless. And the silence they start with - it isn't uncomfortable, it's actually very comfortable. There's a love there that hasn't gone away; hasn't disappeared because of one giant fight. They love each other's company.

And they start to actually talk things through. With some time and clearer heads and advice from friends, they explain how they feel to one another. How Buck hadn't meant to bring up what happened to him that day to minimize what happened to Tommy. How Tommy didn't mean to lash out, but he's always had problems opening up about how he's felt, about putting his own negative feelings out there for someone to judge. And he needed the support too. Which, of course he knows Evan will give him, but he was in such a bad headspace after that shift.

They make up. Stronger than before. Aimlessly driving around together for a while before going back home to Buck's loft.

[cjlouwho]

I 100% agree with you that that was lazy writing. What was the point of deliberately picking someone the audience (and the 118) were familiar with to be Buck's LI when they could have picked some random. What was the point in delving into Tommy's history and his feelings, what was the point of showing him head over heels for Buck in the last ep, of getting a gift for their 6 month anniversary only to say "oh well, I figured we wouldn't last, so I'm gonna get out now before you break my heart". Why let him get that involved if Tommy's ideology was to never allow himself to move forward in the relationship because ultimately he thought it wouldn't last? It's whiplash for the audience after you saw how INVESTED Tommy was in the last ep! And how exactly is this Buck getting off the hamster wheel? This relationship has ended pretty much exactly like all his others - he gets invested, they leave! They had so much potential as a couple - seeing what it's like for two fire-fighters to date knowing they're both in risky jobs, maybe Buck having to meet/deal with Tommy's homophobic father, getting to explore a "new" character's back story instead of rehashing the same story lines from the mains as well as seeing more of how Buck deals with being in a same sex relationship. All wasted.

And since they referenced Glee, if the plan is for it to echo the Kurt/Blaine relationship in that show where they broke up so they could "explore" before getting back together, by doing so they ruined that relationship so much that by the end it wasn't satisfying that they WERE endgame - they weren't the couple we fell in love with. (And also, way to reinforce the negative stereotype of "you can't ever be long term with your first". I should let my sister, my cousin and my aunt know even though they've all been married for years to their husbands - all their first.) Even if they do decide to bring Tommy back down the line, would it even be the same relationship we fell in love with? Would we even trust the writers to stick with it and treat it well? Or if they did a final episode reunion so Buck doesn't end the series alone, how is that satisfying for the audience?

I have been watching 911 since it started, and I have always been part of the general audience up until S7 where I joined the fandom because I thought Buck/Tommy were adorable. It's the first time in years I've become invested in a couple on a show. It's the first time in years that I've dipped my toes back into a fandom. Like you, this ship inspired me to write fic again. I have a bunch of wip's waiting to be posted on ao3 and I honestly don't know if I'll finish them now. And if they have broken them up for Buddie to get together I think I'll stop watching. And not just because I never saw them as a romantic couple (I only ever saw a deep friendship) but because logistically I don't see it working. Besides the fact that I think that while they work as friends, they probably wouldn't gel as a couple, two people on the same team in a relationship? That will screw up the 118 dynamic, especially as this show looooves relationship drama. If they get in a fight, or worse, break up, then what? How would that work within the 118, unless someone transfers out, but then it's bye bye the 118 we love. And not to mention, in the only 4 months I have been in this fandom I have seen some VILE crap from the buddies, and from what I understand it they've been like that for years. And the show runners know about it, so if they go with Buddie, congratulations, you've rewarded toxic behaviour and given them a license to be worse (look at them already, going in the bucktommy tags and gloating).

I told myself after Glee ended and they royally screwed everything up that I wouldn't watch another Ryan Murphy show because he has a history of doing that sort of thing. When 911 came along I was cautious, but it looked like it would be different - more grown up if you will, especially since Ryan Murphy hasn't really been involved since season 1. I should have just gone with my gut. I just hope that, knowing these last two eps were filmed weeks before they aired, the showrunners see how popular they were and realise crap, we've made a BIG mistake. (Everyone should flood instagram and especially Facebook, whoch is more GA than most social media platforms, with RESPECTFUL comments about how devastated they are, and who knows, it might make them consider bringing Tommy back sometime in 8b - I believe they're still writing the back half of the season.)

Side note, I feel really sorry for Lou. Yeah he's going back to SWAT, and I love him in that (even though his character can be a dick sometimes) but he's said in interviews how he's tired of always being cast as "the muscle" due to his size and he seemed genuinely happy to get this role, which was exactly what he was looking for - the sweet, caring, romantic love interest role where he could show some depth, and they screwed him over (sounds like he even thought Buck and Tommy were doing well and wasn't expecting the break up until the end).

(Apologies for the long rant. But what you've been saying really resonated with me and I needed to share your sentiments.)

.

[ivegotyourbackbuddie]

Ao3 Link because this one is a bit long <3

Buck ducks his head on his way into the station, hoping that it's one of those days where everyone else is too caught up in their own stuff to notice that he’s kind of spiraling.

It's not that he wants everyone to be going through stuff. And really, thinking that might bring it into existence, and the 118 already feels cursed enough as is. So, Buck really doesn't want anyone to be dealing with emotional baggage on the same level as what he's dealing with but-

"You alright?" Bobby asks as he turns off the stove, pulling everyone's attention toward Buck which is exactly what he doesn't need right now.

"Fine. Just thinking," Buck replies easily, ignoring the way Eddie is leveling him with an I know you're lying because you're a worse liar than Christopher look.

Before Eddie can say anything, Chimney points a piece of bacon at him and chimes in, "Uh oh. That's dangerous."

"What's more dangerous are the thoughts he isn't willing to share with the class," Hen says, eyebrows raised in an almost accusatory way. "So, what aren't you telling us?"

Buck shakes his head with a frown. "Nothing," he states, taking a place at the table and shoveling food on his plate, hoping it's the end of this conversation.

Eddie leans over and lowers his voice to ask, "You're not having nightmares again, are you?"

"No," Buck replies honestly, although after the events of last night, he just might.

"Maddie hasn't said anything, so it's not family related,'' Chimney very unhelpfully adds.

"Are you and Tommy okay?" Hen asks.

The grimace is entirely involuntary.

"Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!" Chimney says with a laugh which dies down quickly when Bobby gives him a look.

"What happened?" Hen questions softly.

Bobby takes the opportunity to clear his throat. "Buck, you don't have to answer any of their questions if you don't want to, after all, we are all at work."

"When has that stopped anyone before?" Chimney asks, getting a swift kick in the shin by Hen in response.

The tiniest bit of relief floods his system when everyone stops pressing and moves on. Well, besides the occasional lingering glance of curiosity, they mostly move on. But the smallest part of Buck wishes they would press on because he has to tell someone, and while they are some of the nosiest people he's ever met, they're also family.

"I called Tommy the wrong name last night!" Buck blurts out.

Everyone stops mid-conversation to look at him.

"I called him the wrong name... and he left."

The amusement on Hen's face slips right off as she puts a hand over Buck's. "Oh, Buck."

Eddie swallows his food audibly before gently asking, "Left as in..."

Buck glances his way, taking in the soft sympathy in Eddie's eyes. "Left the apartment with a quick goodbye saying he needed time to think about things, and he hasn't talked to me since. It's been twelve hours."

"That's not too bad. What we really need to know is what name you called him. Then we can figure out the damage. And hey, I've had many girls call me the wrong name, and the longest I waited was maybe a day before speaking to them again," Chimney says.

"I don't think you're the best person to be giving advice about this," Bobby says with his ever-present small smile.

"Hey, I'm married now! I think I'm doing pretty great."

Bobby turns his attention back to Buck. "Hey, kid. We've all been there, okay? You're still in the early stages of this relationship, and it's natural to revert to old tendencies - including calling someone the wrong name. Hell, I've called Athena my first wife's name before; there's nothing to be ashamed of."

Buck shakes his head and stares down at the table. "But it was... really bad this time."

"This time?" Ravi asks in disbelief, only to be ignored as Buck continues.

"He didn't even look mad. He just looked... disappointed. And I thought it was something we could laugh off because really it was just a slip of the tongue! I mean, I didn't mean to call him 'Bobby!'"

An eerie silence settles in the station as everyone takes in what was said.

Buck tries to defend himself with a quick, "Uh-" But is immediately cut off by the bell going off.

On the way to the scene, everyone glances at Buck who finally says, "Okay, so Tommy has a daddy kink."

"Yeah, I could've gone my whole life without knowing that," Chimney sighs.

"And!" Buck continues, "Daddy and Bobby are... kind of similar sounding, you know? Daddy... Bobby..."

"If you say 'daddy' one more time, I will revoke Uncle Buck privileges," Chimney groans.

Hen shrugs and says, "There's nothing wrong with a daddy kink as long as everyone is consenting. Now a Bobby kink..."

There's a mixture of laughter from Hen and Chimney, an ay dios from Eddie, a mumbled what is happening from Ravi, and Bobby pointedly tries to ignore the conversation.

"We were in the kitchen and he handed me-!"

"Nope! I do not want to hear about your sex life, Buckaroo!"

Buck frowns at Chimney for a moment before his eyebrows shoot up in shock. "Oh! No! You all think I- Oh god. No. No." Buck shakes his head seriously and continues, "The kink extends outside of the bedroom. He likes it when I call him that all the time. Like when we're having dinner or when we're making dinner. Which is exactly when it happened last night. See, Bobby and I cook all the time, plus like I said Bobby and Da-"

"Alright, we're one minute out, let's wrap this conversation up please," Bobby says, as the tips of his ears turn red.

"Yes, d- Bobby. Shit," Buck mutters, ignoring the cackling around him. Who knew a minute could last so long?

Luckily, the call isn’t too bad – a car accident with the worst injury being minor airbag burns. They're able to clear the scene quickly - too quickly in Buck's opinion because none of them forget their previous conversation.

On the ride back, it takes less than a minute before Eddie asks, "So, I don't get it. You misspoke, and Tommy just... walked out?"

"If it was during sex... that would definitely be off-putting, but you would think you could just laugh it off even if it killed the mood," Hen thinks aloud, "But what exactly did you say when you called him Bobby?"

Buck shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he recalls the moment. "He just asked me to hand him the garlic powder, and I said 'Yes, Bobby' and immediately started laughing about it because I thought we could just laugh it off. But when I saw he wasn't laughing I apologized because it was an honest mistake, but he said the thing about taking time to figure things out, and he walked out."

"Maybe he didn't want to be compared to Cap because he's ancient," Chim jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Hen laughs and looks at Bobby. "You have no comeback today?"

"Don't need one if being ancient got me Athena."

There's a series of cooing, awws, and catcalls from everyone as they're quick to tease Bobby who throws a proud smile over his shoulder. Buck tries his hardest to focus on the secondhand love he feels for their relationship but notices how dim it is when compared to his tarnishing relationship. Bobby must notice it because he's quick to say, "Tommy is a good man. He'll come around."

Buck nods, lost in the thought of what if he doesn't? and too distracted by it to conceal his other thought, "Yeah, if he can get over me calling him Eddie in bed then he should be able to get over this, right?"

A weird strangled noise comes out of Chimney's mouth and Hen's jaw visibly drops. But Buck's eyes shoot to Eddie when he realizes what he just confessed.

Eddie just smiles, looking disturbingly undisturbed and a little amused and maybe… proud?

A minute of silence passes by before Ravi of all people asks, "So is no one going to question what was just said?"

Eddie shakes his head and laughs. "Come on, you guys. You said it yourself it happens to everyone. And I've had my fair share of partners who have gotten offended because they thought I said 'Buck' but 'Buck' and 'fuck' sound very similar."

"Just like 'Eddie' and 'baby' sound similar," Buck rushes to say, jaw tight, nodding quickly in agreement.

"Yeah because I'm sure that..." Chimney trails off and throws his hands up. He shoots Hen a look and asks, "Do you want to take this one?"

Hen blows out a deep breath of air and shakes her head. "They don't pay me enough to even begin to unpack this."

Eddie rolls his eyes and bumps his knee against Buck's. "This doesn't change a thing between us, okay?” He lowers his voice to say, “And between you and me, there was definitely one time I clearly said your name, so I guess we're even."

"You realize our radios are all on the same channel, right?" Bobby asks with barely veiled amusement.

Eddie's eyes widen for a second before he straightens up and fixes everyone with a flat look, almost daring them to say anything.

"Does this happen often?" Ravi asks naively.

"With these two idiots?" Hen asks.

"Yes," comes the answer from Chimney, Hen, and Bobby.

Buck crosses his arms, but he can't feel too bad when Eddie shoots him a small private smile.

Soon enough, they get back to the station, and Buck can sense something is off when he's the last to get out of the truck.

"Someone is here to see you, Buck," Bobby says, his smile tighter than usual before he squeezes Buck's arm and walks past him. Buck glances over everyone else's shoulders and finds Tommy standing there, hands in his pockets looking slightly uneasy.

"So, I'm assuming everyone knows," Tommy comments to the group who all look around uncomfortably.

"I think Cap said something about cleaning something upstairs," Ravi says before running off. He's definitely one of their smartest firefighters and probably their least nosy - maybe there's a connection there. Buck doesn't have much time to think about it as everyone rushes past him, giving him looks of encouragement and poorly concealed grimaces.

"Hi, Tommy," Buck says, purposefully saying his name to prove to both of them that he's capable of it.

"Evan," Tommy replies easily. He glances up and sighs, "Let's go somewhere a bit more private, hm?"

Buck turns and finds everyone including Bobby leaning on the railing upstairs, trying to overhear. Buck furrows his eyebrows and frowns at them, shaking his head - although he knows if the roles were reversed, he would definitely be doing the same thing.

He follows Tommy outside and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely.

Tommy nods, the ever-so-slight smile appearing on his face. "I know." He just looks out around them, glancing up at the sky as if trying to determine the impending weather. Buck nearly makes a joke about it, but Tommy beats him to speaking first. "I'm sorry that I walked out like that. I should have said what it was that was bothering me, but I truly needed the time to get my thoughts together."

"And that's okay. You can take all the time you need."

Tommy nods again before finally looking at Buck. "Evan, I think we both know what I'm about to say."

Buck's heart sinks to his stomach as he shakes his head. "No, I really don't."

Tommy glances over his face, frowning for a moment before fixing him with a look of... pity? "You really don't know, do you?"

Buck shakes his head, but he's pretty sure he can tell when someone is breaking up with him. So maybe he should nod, but this feels like something more than that.

Tommy puts his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to him. "The reason I left like that wasn't because I was angry that you called me Bobby. And really, it was funny as hell given the situation."

"But?" Buck can't help but ask.

"But," Tommy continues, "It was your reaction that startled me." Buck shakes his head, confused as ever. Tommy just sighs. "Evan, you were genuinely startled by it and taken off guard. You immediately laughed it off, and I knew it was nothing. But that made me remember the other time when you said Eddie's name-"

"Which was also an accident!" Buck cuts him off, quickly, almost desperately.

The look Tommy gives Buck nearly makes him want to take the statement back. "Please, Evan. You didn't just laugh it off then, and we both know it. And we always avoided bringing it up because we both knew what happened. From the beginning, I accepted that it was only a matter of time before you figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Buck questions weakly.

Tommy pauses, seemingly debating if he's going to tell him or not. Eventually, he settles on saying, "Both times were an accident. But one was an honest mistake while the other... wasn't."

There's a moment where Buck almost brushes it off and says I don't know what you're talking about. They were both a mistake. But he can't lie to himself or Tommy anymore, and he can see the moment that Tommy registers that, expression dropping to something somber but not surprised.

"You got my attention, Evan. But whose attention was it that you were really after?" Tommy asks, slowly backing away.

"I really liked what we had!" Buck interjects before Tommy can get away.

Tommy gives him a small smile. "I did too. But we both knew it was only a matter of time." He hesitates before walking up to Buck and pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye, Evan. And go talk to Eddie, please."

Buck huffs out a small humorless laugh, experiencing a weird sense of deja vu. He watches as Tommy walks away and doesn't say anything in response because if he fucks up his name one more time, he doesn't think he will ever recover.

As he makes his way back into the station, he notices that most people are upstairs actually minding their own business. But then he catches Eddie watching him carefully and slowly approaches him.

"I take it that went well?" Eddie asks.

Buck chuckles and glances over his shoulder to where Eddie must've had a clear view of their conversation. "Were you watching me?"

Eddie shrugs. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He says it so casually yet sincerely that it makes Buck duck his head, trying to fight the blush that threatens to color his cheeks. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

"So, everything is good then?"

Buck pauses and considers what Tommy had said – go talk to Eddie. “Yeah, things are… good.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows slightly, definitely not believing Buck’s weird tone.

Buck sighs and looks down. “Okay. They’re not good. But they’re fine. We broke up- amicably! And… I’m fine.”

Eddie takes a step closer and tilts his head down so Buck looks him in the eye. “Are you sure?”

It takes a moment for Buck to process what Eddie has said- he always gets flustered when he stands this close. He wonders how he pushed it all down before. But he remembers all the pep talks he would give himself to confess things to Eddie before finding out he was seeing someone new, and all the times he was with Christopher and knew that he would do anything for the kid. Anything meaning not dating his dad and fucking up their whole dynamic. And that’s the thing about Buck, he never knows how to keep a good thing. And if Eddie were the one to leave… he thinks it might destroy him.

“I will be fine,” Buck insists and plasters on a smile. “And don’t worry, I won’t stop your and Tommy’s whole bromance thing. So don’t stop hanging out because of me.”

Eddie frowns and puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting on his collarbone. “You know you’re my best friend, right? Even if I’m out with Tommy, you can always call me, and I’ll be by your side in a heartbeat.”

“Even if he’s flown you to a different state?” Buck jokes.

“I’ll make him fly back even faster. Maybe even see if he can land where you are,” Eddie answers, smiling wide and sincerely. Buck laughs.

They remain there for a few moments just smiling at each other before the moment is interrupted. “Everything okay?” Bobby asks cautiously.

“It will be,” Buck says with a nod because it will be.

He just hopes it will be sooner rather than later.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Buck’s in Eddie’s kitchen the Thursday after the breakup, staring at the calendar with the dumb circle around the date. Basketball pick-up game with Tommy.

Jealousy still swirls in the pit of Buck’s stomach, and he’s no longer trying to fool himself that he’s jealous of Eddie. He never really has been, and he wonders if Eddie knows that. Because Thursdays are Eddie and Tommy’s night. Even with Christopher’s absence and Buck’s extended stays at Eddie’s, Thursdays are the nights Tommy comes over to distract Eddie from the emptiness for a while.

But tonight, Eddie asked Buck to come over and have dinner with him probably knowing Buck would’ve had the tiniest mini spiral on his own. And Buck wonders what he’s done to deserve such an amazing best friend.

He glances in the pantry, wondering if he should tell Eddie to cancel the pizza order he'll be picking up on his way home in favor of Buck making something that will distract him from his thoughts. Just as Buck picks up his phone, there's a rattling of keys in the front door that makes Buck nearly jump out of his skin as he rounds the corner until he sees Eddie pushing the door open.

"You're early," Buck states as he takes the pizza out of his hands.

"Basketball ended early today," Eddie replies easily.

Buck narrows his eyes at him because he's pretty sure the only way that's true is if basketball ended early only for Eddie. "Right."

"I'm going to shower. Find something for us to watch tonight."

As Eddie goes down the hall, Buck calls after him, "You know you don't have to baby me, right?"

"Who else am I supposed to baby with Chris gone?" Eddie yells back, knowing that Buck can't really argue with him. He only wishes he had something to throw at him in response. He really should've made some popcorn.

While Eddie quickly showers, Buck set the pizza down in the living room and grabs two beers, plates, and napkins before settling on the couch. He opens Netflix and goes to his account, knowing Eddie’s is full of romcom suggestions that he pretends to hate, and picks out a random true crime documentary that fulfills Buck’s thirst for random knowledge and Eddie’s thirst for drama.

Eddie joins him a few minutes later wearing slightly ratty sweatpants and an old t-shirt that clings to his chest and arms just right.

Buck averts his gaze before Eddie can catch him staring, although he thinks he might be too late because he sees Eddie watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye. Buck grabs the remote and presses play in hopes of distracting him, but weirdly enough, Eddie’s gaze never really seems to leave him. At one point, Buck even glances over and gives him a questioning look which Eddie answers with a shake of his head before looking at the TV only to glance back at Buck a few moments later.

When the documentary comes to an end, Buck has absorbed about none of it and he doubts Eddie has either. So instead of talking about it, he grabs their empty plates and heads to the kitchen hearing Eddie trailing behind him with their empty bottles.

“Want another one?” Eddie asks as Buck rinses off their plates.

Buck shakes his head. He has a feeling that Eddie is about to ask him how he’s doing or something, and although another beer won’t really affect his cognitive abilities, Buck rather not take any chances. Once he’s through with putting the plates in the dishwasher, he turns carefully and leans against the counter, locking eyes with Eddie who lingers by the fridge, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Is there something you need to talk to me about?” Eddie questions, throwing Buck for a loop.

“Me? I was going to ask you the same thing after you found me more entertaining than that documentary,” Buck jokes.

Eddie frowns and looks away from him. “I did not.”

“Tell me one thing that happened during it.” And Buck really hopes he doesn’t say anything because he wouldn’t be able to confirm it.

Luckily, Eddie stammers for a moment before sighing, “I was staring out of concern after Tommy said…”

Buck's heart drops to his stomach as Eddie trails off. “What did he say?”

Eddie pauses and crosses his arms. “He asked if you had talked to me, and I told him you told me about the breakup, but he acted like there was something more that you needed to say.”

Buck crosses his own arms to try to hide how much his hands are starting to shake.

“Is there more?” Eddie asks.

There’s a moment where Buck almost says, No. I don’t know what he’s talking about. But then he hesitates, wondering if this is it. This is his moment.

Before he knows it, too much time has passed for him to lie and say there’s nothing, so Buck lets out a deep breath and takes a seat before he does something dumb like lock his knees for too long and pass out mid-confession. He looks up at Eddie who begins leaning against the fridge, head framed by one of Chris’s tests with a big A on it.

“I never told you why we broke up,” Buck confesses. “I never even told you the truth about why we started dating.” He pauses and looks down, unable to look at Eddie’s reaction as he continues. “You know, when I met Tommy, I thought he was pretty cool with the whole flying-a-helicopter-through-a-hurricane-to-help-us-without-asking-any-questions thing. I mean. Who does that? So, yeah I asked him for a tour because I wanted to get to know the guy - as a friend.

“And then, I saw him with you,” Buck looks up at Eddie, reimagining the moment. “And you were so happy with him. Happier than I’d seen you in a while, and I knew I should’ve been happy that you got a new friend. But I was devastated. And I felt so guilty about it, especially after the whole basketball thing. I told Maddie about what happened, and she told me all about this best friend she had and how she got jealous when she got a new best friend, and I thought… that was it. As selfish as it was, I wanted to be your one and only best friend.”

Buck pauses, wondering if he should cross this line, but Eddie nods gently in encouragement, brows furrowed as he takes it all in, and Buck continues, “But that wasn’t it. And deep down, I think I knew what was really happening, and I didn’t want to admit it. So, I changed the narrative in my head a bit… I think? Honestly, things aren’t one hundred percent clear to me about how I repressed it - but all of a sudden I was so sure that I was jealous of you. That I was jealous of you hanging out with Tommy. And that’s what I told him before he kissed me, and things just progressed from there. And really, I was happy with our relationship, he was great, and he was… kind of like you. But…” he trails off, words on the tip of his tongue but unwilling to fully let them escape.

“But?” Eddie prompts so gently that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

In one breath, Buck says, “But he wasn’t you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up so fast that Buck would find it comedic if it was in any other situation. “So, you’re saying…” Eddie asks, head cocking to the side.

“Calling Tommy ‘Bobby’ was an accident,” Buck states, uncomfortably straightening up in his chair as he prepares himself for what he’s about to say. “Calling him your name was not.” And just to put the final nail in the coffin Buck says, “And it was never his attention I was after. It was yours. I wanted you, but I couldn’t handle the thought of telling you and ruining things between us. I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship or my relationship with Chris, but here I am… doing exactly that.”

Eddie purses his lips and nods for a few long moments before turning to the fridge and opening it up, grabbing two beers, and setting them on the counter.

“I’m good, Eddie.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, these are both for me.”

Buck feels his entire being shrink in on itself and he wonders if this is the worst rejection he’s ever felt.

“To think,” Eddie clarifies quickly, walking over to place a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb soothing over his collarbone. “About everything you said - which absolutely won’t ruin our relationship or your relationship with Chris. I promise. I just need a few minutes.”

And that’s all Buck needed to hear to know no matter the result of this conversation, things would be okay.

He stands up quickly, suggesting, “Why don’t I let you sleep on it?”

Eddie gives him a look mid sip that says no before he can actually say anything. “The only way you’re letting me sleep on it is if you stay the night on the couch because I’m not letting you doom spiral in your apartment.”

“I wasn’t going to…” Buck trails off when Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “Okay, yeah, I would’ve spiraled on my own. But let me at least give you some space to think.”

Eddie nods, eyes staring off into space entirely unfocused.

Buck quietly says, “Okay,” under his breath and goes to the living room, closing the kitchen door behind him. He takes a deep breath and settles on the couch, trying to make himself comfortable but failing entirely. He takes out his phone and starts typing a message to Maddie saying this is probably crazy but remember that time you said something like whatever I had to tell Eddie I would tell him in my own time? well, guess who just found out what you meant by that and told their best friend they’re in love with them???

But then he remembers Maddie will tell Chimney and Chimney will tell Hen and Hen will tell Karen and Athena and Athena would tell Bobby and… really he does not want everyone to know he confessed his feelings for Eddie before Eddie has time to process those feelings.

Buck sighs and goes through his apps before going to Google and looking through whatever is trending in searches before going down a rabbit hole that becomes a fairly decent distraction until he thinks Man, I need to send this article to Eddie. Then he gets an achy feeling in his chest.

Quite a few minutes pass before Buck gets a sudden dry feeling in his mouth and he realizes he needs water. This is arguably the worst time to need water when the kitchen is off-limits, but he doesn’t think he could drink straight from Eddie’s bathroom sink faucet without feeling weird about it. Plus, he’s sure Eddie will understand, and he won’t interrupt his moment if he’s quick about it.

So, Buck makes his way to the kitchen, pulling the door open only to find Eddie pushing it open on the other side.

“Hey,” Buck says with a small smile.

“Hey,” Eddie responds, eyes trailing over Buck’s features as if taking them in for the first time.

A few seconds pass before Buck finally asks, “Do you mind if I get some water?”

Eddie shakes his head and steps back out of Buck’s way. But as Buck steps forward, Eddie shakes his head and says, “Wait, I’ll get it for you.”

Buck frowns, trying to interpret Eddie's body language, but he's not sure if he's ever seen him so... nervous or maybe... flustered?

As Eddie walks back to where Buck is lingering in the doorway, his eyes roam over Buck before he snaps himself out of it, shaking his head and handing Buck a glass of water. He turns and rubs his hands over his face. "Dios," he mumbles.

Buck doesn't say anything as he sips on his water, leaning against the doorframe and taking in Eddie's spiral. It's simultaneously comforting and nerve-wracking. After a few moments of silence, Buck finally asks, "You okay?"

Eddie pauses and glances up at him. Buck's almost sure that Eddie is about to lie and say he's fine, but right as he opens his mouth, he closes it and shakes his head. Buck wants to step forward and comfort him, but he hesitates, wondering if the push into Eddie's space will scare him away.

Eddie takes a few steps toward Buck, effectively making Buck feel pinned up against the doorframe. "I have been trying to replace the hole Shannon left in my life since she passed. And I've been finding all these replacements that never felt right. Hell, I found Shannon's doppelganger, and it still wasn't right. And I always thought that she was just irreplaceable. And I was right. No one will ever be Shannon, and no one will be able to replace her role in Christopher's life or what I had with her. And that’s okay. But... while I pursued all these women for the wrong reasons, I never realized that Shannon wasn't the only reason why things never worked out."

Eddie takes a deep breath and takes another step closer to Buck. "There was always this small part of me that knew that no matter what happened with my relationships, it didn't matter because you would always be there - for me and Christopher. But I never really considered that this," Eddie makes a quick motion between him and Buck, "could even be an option. And I feel..." He trails off as he stares at Buck.

"Uncomfortable?" Buck asks slightly cowering in on himself, prepared for the mental hit Eddie's answer will be.

Eddie gives him a flat look, completely shutting down all of Buck's thoughts. "Like an idiot," he states as if it's the most obvious answer. Eddie crosses his arms and takes another step toward him. "I mean, I’ve always known you were attractive. Sometimes I would wonder what it would be like to be one of your girlfriends – especially when they didn’t treat you right. I would imagine what I would do if I was them.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “Hell, I used to call Ana your name often enough that Chris tried to make it an inside joke. At the bachelor party, I really should've known though because as soon as I saw you and Tommy together I felt... awful." Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "For a minute there, I was confused as hell wondering if I was suddenly homophobic."

Buck can't help but burst out laughing.

"It's true!" Eddie laughs and hits Buck on the arm. "I had to reevaluate my feelings when Karen and Hen walked in, and I became very aware that it was just a you and Tommy thing. Then, I thought maybe I was just jealous seeing you close to Tommy or maybe seeing Tommy close to you. But that didn't really make sense because I've been so excited whenever you hit it off with anyone else in my life."

"So, how did you rationalize that thought?" Buck asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

"I got blackout drunk and didn't think about it again." The answer is so immediate that Buck can't help but laugh again. Eddie smiles at him and nudges him on the shoulder. "I should say, I didn't think about it again until about half an hour or so ago"

Buck can't help but look at him a bit bashfully. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be," Eddie says, hand landing on Buck's shoulder. "Don't ever be sorry about telling me how you feel even if it sends me into an identity crisis of sorts."

Buck cocks his head to the side. "Identity crisis meaning...?"

"I might be into guys?" Eddie says more as a question than an answer, but it still makes Buck's heart skip a beat. "I'm not sure," Eddie confesses. He pauses, eyes roaming over Buck before breathing out, "I think I might just be into you."

Buck's brain lags for a few seconds as he processes what he's been dreaming about hearing practically since he met Eddie. After replaying the words in his head a few times, he can't help but ask, "Might?" But before Eddie can answer, Buck leans over far enough to set his glass down and effectively crowd into Eddie's space, "Because I know a way for us to confirm that you're definitely into me."

"Is that so?" Eddie asks, an amused smile gracing his face. The hand on Buck's shoulder slowly yet firmly travels up his shoulder to the back of his neck. "Do you want to show me?"

Buck doesn't trust any words that are about to come out of his mouth, so he lets out a shaky breath and nods, already feeling his cheeks flush and his eyelashes flutter involuntarily.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him, and they both share a moment of this is really about to happen.

As they move closer together, Buck is sure something is going to interrupt them - like an alarm or an unwanted knock on the door.

But Buck's nose brushes against Eddie's gently, and then there's a breath shared between them before their lips connect gently.

Buck breathes in sharply, heart pounding in his chest, and Eddie responds by weaving his other arm around Buck's waist and pulling him in deeper as if he's trying to make them one whole entity. And who is Buck to deny him his wish?

Buck suddenly remembers that he also has arms which he uses to cup Eddie's face, and then he backs them up until his back is suddenly colliding with Eddie's fridge.

Eddie pulls back momentarily to make sure he's okay, and Buck laughs breathlessly before pulling him back in.

It feels like his first time on the job as a firefighter, the first time he and Eddie truly worked together as a team, and the first time he met Christopher. It feels right.

Buck smiles so wide that he has to pull away with a laugh that sounds almost like a sob, but he doesn't try to stop the happy tears that escape - especially when he sees Eddie in a similar state.

They both stare at each other in disbelief for a moment as they laugh and pull each other into a hug.

"I definitely just like you," Eddie chokes out.

Buck laughs and squeezes Eddie a little tighter.

They linger in the hug for a few moments longer than they usually would, swaying slightly. They slowly pull back to look at each other before resting their foreheads together. “This is real, right?” Buck questions quietly.

He can feel Eddie nod before he says, “It better be.”

Buck laughs softly. He pulls back and notices a faraway look in Eddie’s eyes. “You okay?”

Eddie nods and looks down. “I just wish Chris was here for this. He would probably roll his eyes at me and tell me that you were right in front of me the whole time. Or maybe he’d also feel like an idiot for not realizing that you’re all we need.”

Buck cups Eddie’s face again and redirects his gaze at him. “Hey, we’ll get to know what he thinks soon, okay? In the meantime, don’t you think it’s better that we work out all the kinks of turning what we had into something more before getting Chris involved?”

Eddie nods and laughs softly. “Of course, you already want to fix what we have before it's really begun.”

“I’m the guy who likes to fix things,” Buck says with a smile. “But I don’t think there’s much to fix here, you know?”

“Other than the years of dates, kisses, and declarations of love that I need to make up for,” Eddie comments cheesily.

Buck cocks his head to the side and feels his cheeks turning red. “Wow. Eddie Diaz is a romantic.”

“For you, I sure am,” Eddie flirts.

Buck can almost hear Christopher groaning at the line. “Declarations of love?” Buck recalls out loud.

A pinch forms between Eddie’s brows. “Yeah. You know that I love you.”

Buck frowns and tilts his head. “Really? Because I don’t think we’ve ever truly said that to each other.”

Eddie looks off as if trying to recall every moment they’ve spent together. He frowns and looks at Buck. “Another thing that should’ve made things obvious to us.” Buck laughs as Eddie smiles and grabs his shoulder. “But, just so you’re totally aware, Evan… I love you.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks with a big smile, already pulling Eddie back in for another kiss.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles against his lips.

A few moments later, Buck quickly pulls away and says, “I love you, too, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Buck laughs, “Good. But I’m still going to spend as long as I can proving to you that I love you more than you know. That I love you and Christopher more than you both know.”

Eddie smiles at him so sweetly that Buck almost forgets that he’s allowed to openly stare – more than that… he gets to openly stare at that smile forever. “And we’re going to do the same for you.” There’s a pause before Eddie gets a slight mischievous glint in his eye. “Just try to refrain from calling me ‘Bobby,’ okay?”

Buck sighs and rolls his eyes, pulling away to put his glass in the sink.

There’s a sudden loud chime, and a moment later Eddie gasps.

Buck turns to find Eddie turning the phone to him with a text from Christopher reading I’m ready to come home Dad. Love you.

“Scratch what we said about working out the kinks?” Buck says with a breathless laugh.

Eddie nods and kisses him. “Let’s go get our kid.”

[holidayslinger]

i do think there's a reason buck hasn't said the word bisexual yet, btw, and that's that he *hasn't* sorted through all of his feelings. i think he liked tommy and, to him, that's all that mattered. i think the idea that queer people need to experiment a lot IS problematic when speaking on the whole but also queer people, like anyone else, aren't all the same and sometimes you do need more time to reflect and think about who you are and how you define yourself. especially a character like buck, who has always struggled with his sense of self (defining himself by his job and how useful he is, changing himself to suit romantic partners, etc).

buck hasn't really sat in his feelings about his sexuality yet because at the time and all this time, all that mattered was that he's into tommy. he saw a future with tommy, and so thinking about it further probably didn't really (and likely still doesn't) matter a lot to him. he just knew, hey, all this time i thought i was straight, but actually i guess i'm not!

but i think we might get there, and i think it's really strange that so many people have just...decided they know where the story is going. we still have all of 8b and a couple of episodes of 8a to go, and the story is definitely still coming into itself. saying that it's bad representation of bisexuality to me is premature because we just don't know where it's going.

we just don't know. could it end up being really awful? sure. but it also could end up being a great story of someone who has always been searching to find themselves and learning to define themselves in their own terms. which may not end up being on your terms, or my terms, but it will be on buck's terms.

and i think that's what's ultimately going to be important. i still think, regardless of some of the things he's said that may not have been perfectly well thought out, oliver cares about telling this story. i think he's wanted to do this for a long time, and i think he really enjoys getting to play this version of buck, and he doesn't know what's going to happen anymore than we do.

maybe i'm being naive and maybe i'm being a little too hopeful but i've loved this show since i watched the first episode, even though that wasn't only about 6 months ago. I've loved Evan Buckley since the moment I saw him. I think it just needs time.

[ponyregrets]

I wanted to write about Buck and Eddie going in the ocean and I'd written most of it before I thought to check what the weather in LA is actually like right now (look, I'm in New England, I just think of it as Warm down there, okay?) and I decided to go with it anyway. as @frightfullytreeish said, get chilly, idiots

(806 coda, 1900 words, also on AO3)

"Hey, what brings you joy?"

Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper.

And of course there's the Tommy of it all. Buck hasn't exactly been mourning or anything, but he's obviously down. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to say that nothing is bringing him joy at the moment. It's not a particularly joyful time.

But Buck doesn't hesitate, doesn't question. He just says, "The ocean," and doesn't even ask why Eddie wants to know.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I never saw it until I left Hershey. We never went to the beach or anything when I was a kid. The first time I saw it, I fell in love. It was the best thing I'd ever seen."

"I didn't know that."

Buck shrugs. "Doesn't come up that much. And I guess I always think I'll get used to it? But it's amazing every time. I never get tired of it."

He should have known, right? They've gone to the ocean together. Or--well, they've had calls near the water before. That guy who got struck by lightning. The shark.

The tsunami.

But they've never just gone. Buck has never tagged along with him and Chris on any of their trips, and he and Buck have no reason to just take a beach day together.

Joy doesn't need a reason, right? He can just do it.

"Cool," says Eddie. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"What else are we doing?"

It hasn't been a problem, exactly, their lack of things to do. It's just kind of new, the way they're hanging out in the last week. Usually they have Chris, or girlfriends, or boyfriends. They have some reason to stop being together, and now they just…don't. And Buck just keeps on coming over, hanging out on Eddie's couch, in his space, like he can't bear to be in his loft now that Tommy isn't there.

Or something.

"You got some trunks I can borrow?" Buck asks.

"Are we swimming?"

"You want to go to the beach and not swim?"

Most of the time, that's what he does. When Chris was younger he'd get in the water, but the last few years it's been Eddie supervising while Chris does his own thing far enough away that it doesn't look like he's being supervised.

But Chris is in Texas. And, yeah, it's November, but Buck doesn't seem to care.

"I'll see what I've got," he says and finds he has two pairs of trunks in good enough shape that he's not embarrassed about anyone wearing them. Small miracles.

He throws the bigger pair to Buck and then goes to change in his bedroom. Buck will be doing the same thing in the bathroom, not for the first time, but he's never been changing into Eddie's trunks before. Did Ana ever wear anything of his? Marisol didn't. Buck might be the first person since Shannon.

As long as they fit, it's fine. Not a big deal at all.

They take Buck's car, the podcast he's listening to about the issues with the keto diet resuming as soon as he turns it on. Hen has gotten tired of explaining why his diets might be a problem herself and is outsourcing, which Eddie can't blame her for, but he doesn't find the resources nearly as interesting as Buck does. He already knows he doesn't want to do keto.

"You don't need to cheer me up, you know," Buck says, about halfway to the beach, without bothering to pause the keto thing. "I'm doing okay."

"I know."

It's mostly true. Buck has seemed fine with the breakup. Not happy, but not heartbroken either. He's been a little quiet about it, more so than Eddie was expecting. All he'll say is that Tommy initiated it, but he understands why.

"I'm trying to be happier," he tells Buck. "For me."

"Is that a thing you can try? Like, aren't you just happy or not?"

"If that was true, the ocean wouldn't bring you joy, right?" He lets out a breath, his stomach tied in inconvenient knots. "Someone pointed out that when I had the choice between something that would make me happy and something that wouldn't, I picked the one that wouldn't."

Buck mulls this over for a long moment. "I always figured that's because you're more mature than I am." It's only half a joke.

"Yeah, that's one way of looking at it." His breath shudders more this time. "Anyway. I'm not doing that anymore. I'm looking for things that bring me joy. So I figure if the ocean does that for you, maybe it'll do it for me, too."

"I hope so."

They set up like Eddie would with Chris, towels and belongings planted in the sand, the only difference that they left their phones in the car since no one is staying behind. He keeps his back turned as they shed the layers of clothing they have on, but when Buck hands him a tube of sunscreen, he has no choice but to stare at the expanse of bare back. The motions are familiar, nothing he hasn't done a thousand times for Chris, but…

Well, he's never done it for Buck.

Buck makes him turn around so he can return the favor, a much less familiar process. These days, he usually leaves his shirt on.

But he knows Buck's hands. They're familiar, all heat and callus. Careful, incongruously so. Buck looks like he's built clumsy, someone who can't do delicate work, and maybe he knows that too. Like happiness to Eddie, precision doesn't come naturally to Buck. He has to put the effort in, and he does. Eddie's skin lights up with every stroke of Buck's hands, so he's sure that Buck gets every inch.

And then he keeps going a little longer. Just to make sure.

"Okay," says Buck at last. "We're good to go."

Eddie is expecting Buck to run into the ocean like an overgrown puppy, all bright enthusiasm despite the chill, but he's cautious. He dips a toe in, then his foot, then the other. He walks in slowly enough that Eddie overtakes him, even though he's not running. He's just eager.

"The first time I went into the ocean, I was in Virginia Beach," Buck explains without making Eddie ask. "It was May, and I thought it would be warm enough, it was a hot May. But I ran in and it was so cold. I ran right back out."

"Goes to show," says Eddie.

"What, exactly? I know how the water's going to be today. It's cold."

The water is probably around the same temperature as it was in Virginia Beach in May. Eddie shivers, but doesn't stop, not until he's up past his knees. He smiles at Buck, who's still just letting the waves lap his toes. "Yeah, it's nice anyway. It's hot out."

"Not hot enough."

"It's fine."

He's in up to his ankles now. "You're not getting the joy, though."

"I am."

"Eddie."

"I'm getting used to it."

"You're not supposed to get used to it. You're supposed to be be making choices that make you happy right away, right?"

"I am happy," he says again, and it doesn't feel like a lie. "It's nice, there's no one else here. And it's not cold enough for us to get hypothermia."

"Are you sure this isn't just for me?" Eddie cocks his head, and Buck clarifies, "For my benefit."

"Should it be?"

Buck kicks at a wave. "He said I wasn't ready. Tommy. That's why he broke up with me. I asked him to move in with me, and he broke it off instead."

"So he's an idiot," Eddie says. "Always knew there was a chance, but I was hoping I was wrong."

"Is he, though? Was he wrong? I didn't really want him to move in. I just wanted…" He huffs. "I want to be done with this, you know? I'm ready to be with someone. And I think it could have been him."

It's not like getting shot, or even like getting punched. It's like a bullet or a fist going past him, close enough to graze the skin. Close enough that he's thinking about how much it could have hurt.

"But that's shitty, right? Like, how long could I have kepg going just because I didn't have a reason to break up with him? He was…fun. I liked him. I liked feeling like I'd figured it out. Like that was the last piece. I like guys too."

"Maybe it was," Eddie says. The water is lapping against his legs, the surf gentle. He's used to the temperature where he's submerged, but it's only halfway up his thighs. Every time the droplets splash higher, there's this shock of sharp little pinpricks.

He's so fucking happy.

"Maybe that was the last piece, but that doesn't mean Tommy is it. Maybe you're ready, but you're not ready for him."

"I'm just tired," says Buck. "I'm tired of waiting for someone to want me enough, you know? I'm ready to settle."

"You shouldn't," says Eddie. "You shouldn't be with someone just to be with anyone."

"You can build it," he argues, like Chris angling for a later bedtime or more video games before homework. "Love. Like you and Shannon did."

Nausea roils his stomach. "We didn't. It wasn't like that."

"I know it wasn't perfect, but you two were working on it. You were going to--"

"She wanted a divorce. Before she died. That was one of the last things she told me. We weren't going to have another kid, we weren't going to get married again, we weren't going to be together." He's not crying, but in that way where he is very aware that he's not crying. Where Not Crying is currently defining his existence. "I think we could have been friends," he says. "And maybe we could have figured it out. Been together again, made it good. That's what I told myself. And that's…easy."

"Easy?" Buck asks, in a small voice. Like Eddie is telling him a fairy tale he wishes could be true.

Which Eddie is, actually.

"If she was the love of my life and I lost her, then that was it. No one else would ever measure up. Nothing else could ever be as good. It was never going to work."

"But she wasn't?"

"Maybe she was. Or maybe--" He's Not Crying. "Maybe I don't just get one love, or even just one life. Maybe it doesn't have to be about finding her again. It can be about finding someone new. Someone who…"

He chokes then, the words dying in his throat. Buck is dazzling in the sunlight, his eyes as blue as the sea, his expression open, waiting. His whole existence focused on Eddie.

Eddie would marry him today. Eddie would marry him tomorrow, Eddie would marry him yesterday. Eddie would tie himself to Buck in any way Buck could think of, in every way, with wills, with contracts, with mortgages, with handcuffs, with string.

"Someone who brings me joy," he finishes.

"Joy," says Buck. He looks over the horizon, smiles, shakes his head.

Eddie's chest is too small and too big. He's never had so much in him.

"I've never had that," he muses. "Someone who makes me feel like the ocean."

"Like the ocean," Eddie says. "Yeah."