#which i guess aligns with what we know of eddie’s childhood and how strict it was and how enforced it was for him to be like the perfect ma

[stfuimprojecting]

Buck is the sun. Blinding and too revealing. He shines a light on all that Eddie wants to hide. So, Eddie’s body will act on his behalf. It doesn’t allow his heart to lead, instead, Eddie looks at Buck and squints. It’s best that he looks at Buck from a distance, from the corner of his eye, it allows him to drink Buck in without playing his hand. Especially on nights like these. The team is at Chimney’s favourite karaoke bar and Buck is ordering them drinks. His hands rest on the counter as he leans forward to catch the bartender’s attention. His long legs are highlighted by the cant of his hips, they’re shifted back and out and Eddie can’t help but follow the curve of his ass. It makes him flush. His cheeks pink, but his neck flashes hot and a cold sweat trickles down his back, his shoulders curl and Eddie looks away. It reminds him of Texas, of being 15 and playing baseball- quickly changing in the locker rooms, laser sharp focus and staring at the ground, desperate to avert his gaze. He had a Buck then too. In a way, at least, because Eddie had an Eric. Who was lanky and the fastest on the team and two years older than him. Eric would casually crowd into his space, throw his arm over Eddie’s shoulders and ruffle Eddie’s hair. It made Eddie blush and he would call it a sunburn. But then, Eric graduated and Eddie met Shannon and none of it mattered anymore.

He tries to keep his focus on Chimney embarrassing himself on stage, but his eyes keep drifting towards Buck. If Buck is the sun, then Eddie is trapped in his orbit. He promised to always have his back, and being his partner means keeping an eye on him wherever they go. Even here. Especially here; where vultures swarm around Buck, feasting eyes lingering as Buck throws his head back to laugh at one of the bartender’s jokes. His birthmark seems inexplicably more pink in the low amber lights of the bar. His hair shining golden, a halo atop his head. And the wide expanse of his chest is taken as the world’s most welcoming invitation to whoever is bold enough to approach. Like the bartender “fixing” Buck’s collar; or the tiny brunette sidling up to his side, her hand resting on his bicep as she joins the conversation. Buck is friendly as always. He doesn’t seem to take notice of their ulterior motives, or maybe he does and just doesn’t show it. Buck is good at that. Pretending. Playing up the playboy facade of his youth.

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one of my 911 wips. buddie focused and a little angsty. it’s somewhat a continuation of my last 911 fic (victoria secret perfume), at the very least it’s in the same verse

i can’t tell if this is good or not. this is my first time writing from eddie’s pov and i wanna do him justice, so any feedback is appreciated!