Three Simple Words - the two of you have a routine for the day after a full moon. What Remus doesn't expect, are those three words to fall from your lips.
James Potter
Returning the favor - James is a knight in shining armor for anyone in need of help. Especially students who call in the middle of the night.
Warnings: swearing, alcohol, stalker behaviours (briefly mentioned)
Blurbs: (1) - (2)
Golden Trio Era
Ron Weasley
Blurbs: (1) -
Queen / BoRhap
Roger Taylor
Long Distance: Roger can't sleep and calls a random number left of a napkin. He expected to find someone to help tire him out. He never thought he'd find love. [Reposting and major editing of an old fic I had posted on an old blog]
Warnings: SMUT, +18 ONLY - MINORS DNI; swearing & cursing; unclear timeline (lmao); Brian is a bit of a douche. It's a long ass one, over 20K words. Read at your own risk!
I think ao3 is literally the only site where no censorship means no censorship. you can post the most vile things on there â things that will get taken down on any other platforms â and ao3 will protect you, your works, and your rights to create whatever you want, however you want.
and no, this isnât me saying âwrite that messed up, disgusting thingâ because while, yes, write it if itâs what you want (I myself enjoy writing dark fics, something I believe would be considered âvileâ to a lot of people), this is me saying in a world of censorship and capitalism, ao3 really is a treasure.
âĄïž Content warnings on fiction are a courtesy.Â
âĄïž Not every medium of fiction and storytelling has or is expected to have content warnings or extensive tagging.
âĄïž Print novels do not traditionally warn for content in any way.
âĄïž Until AO3 came along, fanfiction did not traditionally warn for content in any significant way.
âĄïž An author is only obligated to warn for content to the degree mandated by the format they publish their fiction on.
âĄïž Content warnings beyond the minimum are a courtesy, not an obligation.
âĄïž 'Creator chose not to warn' is a valid tag that authors are allowed to use on AO3. It means there could be anything in there and you have accepted the risk. 'May contain peanuts!'
âĄïž Writers are allowed to use 'Creator chose not to warn' for any reason, including to maintain surprise and avoid spoilers.
âĄïž 'Creator chose not to warn' is not the same thing as 'no archive warnings apply'.
âĄïž It is your responsibility to protect yourself and close a book, or hit the back button if you find something in fiction that you're reading that upsets you.
âĄïž You are responsible for protecting yourself from fiction that causes you discomfort.
I feel like when I say ârelatableâ what I really mean is âresonant.â I donât want characters who I feel are like me, I want characters who have emotions so strong I can feel them through the page.
I think this is important because a lot of us forget the power of stories to make us feel things about characters who are not like us, who have experienced things that we never will. The purpose of listening to someone else's story should not necessarily be identification, but understanding.
Replied to a recent comment on a fic that I wrote years ago and then took the time to revisit previous comments and I say this with complete sincerity:
Leaving a comment on a fic provides compounding delight. Authors will love initially receiving a comment, will love later recalling this and that particular aspect of a comment, and they will love rereading comments and being reminded how readers enjoyed the work.
Comments are not a one-time act of kindness and consideration. They keep giving.
Thank you to those who take the time to give a nice word, describe an excited reaction, point out favorite parts, and generally let it be known that not only has the work been read but it had some effect. :)
Friendly reminder that these only happen slowly, carefully, with lots of reader encouragement, engagement, reflection, and support, and an ending is never a guarantee.
Writing communities are gardens, not subscription services
description: in which he keeps trying to plan the perfect night, but something keeps getting in his way
pairing: evan buckley x female!reader
warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, mentions reader getting injured
masterlist (one, two, three)
Buck had planned everything for months. The reservation at the fancy restaurant, the dress you had been eyeing for ages but constantly made excuses why you couldn't buy it, and most importantly, the ring. He had taken the day off and told everyone his plan so they knew not to call him in for any reason. Everything was set to be perfect, and Buck was going to make sure it stayed perfect.
The dress was laid out on the bed when you got home from work. Buck couldn't help but beam when he saw your face light up with excitement upon seeing it. "What is this?!"
"You've been wanting it for so long," Buck said. "I thought it might be a nice surprise."
"It's an amazing surprise." You threw your arms around Buck and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I love it so much. Thank you, baby."
"Why don't you put it on for our date tonight?"
"I like the way you think, Buckley."
When Buck saw you in the dress, he had to remind himself of tonight's plan. If he didn't, he worried the two of you might not leave. He may be too tempted to take that dress off of you now instead of later when it would be in celebration of putting a ring on your finger.
Buck was getting ready to go when his phone started ringing. His sister's name and contact photo filled his screen. He was mid tying his tie when he glanced at the phone and decided he would call Maddie back later. He figured she was probably calling to wish him luck on the proposal, or grill him on if he really had everything ready for it, which he knew he very much did. But when the phone started to ring again immediately after it stopped, Buck had a bad feeling. He quickly answered, bracing for whatever Maddie was about to tell him.
"I need you guys to come watch Robert."
Buck groaned. "Maddie, you know I can't tonight."
"I know, Buck, and I'm so so sorry to ask because I know you've been planning this for months, but Jee has a crazy high fever and I have no one else to look after Robert while I take her to the hospital."
"Have you asked - "
"Everyone, Buck. You're literally my last choice and I didn't even want to ask you, but everyone else is working and I can't bring him to the station in case Chim has to go on a call. Please, Buck. I have no other choice."
Buck pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew Maddie wouldn't ask unless she had no other choice, and normally Buck would do anything for Jee and Robert, but tonight was special. He had been putting this night together for months. There was no way he could just postpone it. It wasn't that easy to get a reservation at the restaurant he was planning to take you to, and it wasn't easy to get a full 24 hours of guaranteed off time as a firefighter. Buck had no idea when he'd be able to put this night together again if it didn't happen.
Buck was about to tell Maddie that he couldn't look after Robert and tell her that he owed her big time in the future but he just couldn't do it tonight, when you walked into the room. You noticed Buck's state and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's just Maddie," Buck said, motioning to his phone.
"Is she okay? Are the kids okay?"
Buck couldn't help but smile at your concern for his family. It was one of the many things that led him to his decision to propose. "She said Jee has a fever and she needs someone to look after Robert while she takes Jee to the hospital - "
"Oh, we can do that."
Buck's heart fell. He shouldn't have told you that. He should've known that you'd be more than happy to postpone a date night if someone was in need. He didn't know how to deter you from this decision without revealing to you why this date night was more important than your usual date nights. "B-But...our reservation...it's impossible to get another one."
"I know, but that place is so fancy and expensive." You shrugged. "I mean, it'd be nice to go there for the exclusivity of it, but I don't mind postponing for a less fancy place some other time. Especially so we can look after Robert so Jee can go to the hospital."
Buck had no other arguments. There was no way out of this. His perfect night to propose to his girlfriend had been snatched away.
On the phone, Buck heard Maddie softly say, "I'm so sorry, Evan."
He responded, "We'll be over as soon as possible."
You were looking at Buck with pity. You knew how much he had wanted to go to this place and how hard it would be to get another reservation, but you also knew you'd both feel bad the whole night if you turned down helping Maddie just to go out on a date. You could go out again, eventually to the fancy place, even if it was no time soon.
Buck was trying not to let his frustration show as the two of you changed out of your fancy date clothes. He knew you'd pick up that he was more frustrated than he'd normally be over a cancelled date and you'd start to ask questions. And he knew Maddie truly would not have called him for help if she wasn't in a bind, so he knew he shouldn't be frustrated with her. But that didn't mean he couldn't be frustrated at all. He knew realistically that he could plan another special night to propose, and he knew that's likely what he'd be doing the second he calmed down, but for now he couldn't shake the frustration at the night being ruined so suddenly.
Maddie thanked the two of you profusely before rushing out of the house with Jee. Buck's jaw was still tight as you went to check on Robert. He was in his playpen, blissfully ignorant to the world around him. When he heard you walking in, he turned around and a wide smile spread across his chubby cheeks. You couldn't help but coo at him and pick him up out of his playpen. Robert giggled as you spoke to him in your baby voice and poke his stomach. Buck's frustration finally melted away as he watched you and Robert. You were always great with Maddie and Chim's kids. Jee took to you the moment you met her, and sometimes she was more excited to see you than Buck. Of course, the same thing happened with Robert after he was born. They both loved you dearly, and you loved them, and it made Buck's heart so full.
Thinking about how well you got along with his niece and nephew made Buck think about a future where you two had your own rugrats running around. It reminded him of what tonight was supposed to be, and Buck suddenly had an idea. He could propose right here and now, without the ring, and give it to you when you got home. In Maddie and Chim's home instead of the fancy restaurant, in sweatpants and hoodies instead of the dress he bought for you and the suit he picked out for himself.
"Hey, Earth to Buck."
Buck shook himself out of his thoughts to find you and Robert looking at him. "Sorry. I was just thinking."
"I can tell," you teased. "What were you thinking?"
Buck shrugged. "Ah, nothing important."
You gave him a look, but you didn't ask any further.
Buck decided no, he couldn't propose here. He had a plan, and the plan may have been a little derailed, but he could get it back on track. He wanted the proposal to be absolutely perfect.
~~~~~~
A week later, Buck had a new plan. It wasn't as perfect as his initial plan, but it was still pretty good. He couldn't get another reservation at the restaurant as they were booked up for months, so he got a reservation at a not as fancy, but still pretty fancy place. It was his night off and he had already made sure Maddie would have someone to look after the kids in case of emergency.
You needed no convincing to wear the dress, although you did still tell Buck you didn't understand why he insisted on being so dressed up for this date.
"You usually wear jeans and a t-shirt, now you're basically wearing a suit," you teased him.
"Dress pants and a button up is not a suit," he said. "Maybe I just want to dress up nice and treat my beautiful girlfriend the way she deserves to be treated."
You leaned into Buck's embrace. "You really know how to sweet talk a woman, Buckley."
As he drove to the restaurant, Buck felt the nervousness grow within him. A million different plans were running through his mind on how he'd ask you: ask the waiter to bring a glass of champagne with the ring in it; get down on one knee right there at the table and cause a scene (that could potentially result in free dessert or free alcohol in celebration); he could ask before you even sat down, just to get the nerves out of the way. In the end, Buck came to the decision that a lowkey, intimate way was the best way to pop the question. He'd do it over dessert, which he knew was your favorite part of any meal. He'd give you the ring, and ask in a hushed voice if you'd marry him, so that it was a moment shared just between the two of you.
He opened the car door for you and linked your arm through his. The host seated you both as a table that was somewhat secluded, which Buck knew would make the moment more intimate. You both ordered a glass of wine each and decided to forgo appetizers in favor of dessert after the meal. You ordered your main courses, and luckily you were more than happy to fill the silence with small talk about work and what you had been doing that day. Buck was too afraid to say more than a few word responses to your stories and questions, in case he accidentally let the surprise slip before the main course even came.
When Buck's phone started to ring, he had no intentions of answering. But, he did pull it from his pocket just to see who was calling, and his heart sank upon seeing Bobby's name.
"You should get that," you told him, as if reading his mind while he mentally debated on ignoring the call.
"We're on a date," Buck reasoned.
"It might be important, Buck."
He signed. Damn you and your reasonableness and your big heart. Just this once he wished you were selfish enough to tell him to ignore the call and stay on the date with you.
He answered the phone, praying that Bobby was just asking him a question, or reminding him of something for his next shift. To his dismay, Bobby said, "Buck, I'm so sorry. I know you had your postponed plans to propose tonight, but we really need you. Ravi's injured himself and he's likely going to be out for a few weeks."
You noticed Buck's demeaner deflate and you knew exactly what Bobby had said. You waved down your server to ask, "Can we get that food to go, actually? And the bill?"
A familiar feeling of frustration grew within Buck. He had come so close this time. Within the hour he would've been engaged, if Ravi hadn't done whatever he did to injure himself, thus giving Bobby no choice but to call in Buck.
Although, they were still waiting on the food and the bill. He had just enough time to pull out the ring and ask you, maybe salvage this night from being completely ruined.
But, as he watched you quickly finish your wine as to not waste it before you had to leave, Buck realized this wasn't the time. He wasn't going to ask you to marry him in a rush as you waited for your food to be packaged to go, then run off to work instead of celebrating your engagement. He would just have to try again some other time.
Third time's the charm, right?
~~~~~~
After two and a half weeks of covering for Ravi, he finally returned to work and Buck was finally able to come up with a back up proposal plan for the original back up plan.
He decided he was going to abandon the fancy dinner idea all together. It clearly was not meant to happen that way. Instead, he was going in a completely different direction: he was taking you for a hike.
You both loved hikes and nature walks. So, Buck planned to take you on a hike to one of the most beautiful views in the Los Angeles area, and propose there. It helped his decision, too, that the hiking trail had little to no service, so he wouldn't be interrupted by any phone calls.
The trail was steeper than Buck anticipated, and a little rocky, but you were pushing through it like you always did. The sun was beaming down on you both, making the hike extra hot. You paused a few times to drink water and stand in any nearby shade. Buck wasn't about to rush you, either. Even he was finding the hike a little difficult, and he regularly worked in big, heavy firefighting gear in this type of weather.
"Maybe this trail was a bad idea," he said after finishing his water. Luckily, he had packed several bottles in his bag just in case.
"No! It's good," you insisted. "It's just...a little strenuous."
Buck nodded. I really hope this is all worth it once we reach the top.
You started off again. Buck was trailing ahead of you, so he noticed the trail was coming to an end first. He smiled to himself and was turning to tell you that you were almost there, when he was cut off by the sound of you shrieking.
Buck was quick to turn around and rush down the rocky terrain towards you. You had slipped and taken a small tumble. On his first look, it seemed you survived the tumble with no injuries, but upon looking closer, he could see your foot was turned in a way it shouldn't be.
"Fuck," you hissed. "It's sprained for sure."
"Can I look?" he asked. You nodded. Buck was careful as he pulled off your sneaker and rolled down your sock. He winced at the sight of your ankle, which was already starting to swell. "Yeah, sprained for sure. We should get you to a hospital."
"Not gonna call 911 for me?"
He chuckled at your attempt to joke through your obvious pain. "No signal up here anyways. I'm gonna have to carry you down."
"Oh no, how devastating."
Buck lifted you into his arms and carefully started making his way back to the car, trying very hard not to think about the fact that another attempt at proposing had been ruined.
~~~~~~
"I'm starting to think it's not meant to be," Buck was telling Eddie the next day. "That's three botched proposals. It has to be a sign, right?"
Eddie gave him a look. "You think the universe is trying to tell you not to spend the rest of your life with the woman you're madly in love with?"
Buck shrugged in response. He knew that sounded crazy, but it was hard to think otherwise when there was always something getting in his way and ruining his plan.
Eddie put a hand on Buck's shoulder and said, "Listen, this is not a sign that you shouldn't be together. It might be a sign that you're trying too hard to make the perfect proposal. Sometimes, the moment doesn't have to be romance novel perfect in the lead up. The moment itself, when you propose and she says yes, that will be the perfectness."
Eddie gave Buck's shoulder a squeeze before walking past him to the station kitchen. Bobby was cooking for the team, and unsurprisingly it smelled delicious. It was enough to take his mind off of his proposal problems for a brief moment as his mouth watered and his stomach started to rumble. An idea quickly formed in his head, and he let himself get his hopes of a proposal up once more.
~~~~~~
A few days later, you limped through the apartment door. Your ankle had gone back to normal size and the bruising had started to turn from blue and purple to a light yellow color. The doctors told you as long as you rested it and didn't put too much strain on it, that it wouldn't be long until it was mostly healed. And you were already walking on it, albeit still with a limp but with much less pain than before.
You were met with the delicious smell of home cooking and your stomach rumbled in response. You shed your coat and kicked off your shoes, and found your boyfriend in the kitchen wearing his very adorable apron.
"What's happening here?" you asked. "Doesn't smell like baking."
"Because it's not," Buck replied. "I'm cooking us dinner."
"What's on the menu?"
"Lasagna, recipe curtesy of one Captain Bobby Nash."
You gasped. "No way! I thought Bobby refused to give that recipe up!"
"He did."
"So how did you get it from him?"
"Used my irresistible charm."
You gave Buck a playful look, but it seemed he wasn't going to elaborate further. You weren't about to argue, though. You loved Bobby's lasagna, and you and Buck had been trying to get it from him for ages. Bobby continuously refused to give it to anyone. Whatever Buck had said to finally change his mind didn't make a difference, at least you had it now.
Buck set the table and insisted on helping you over, even though you told him you were more than capable of walking the few feet from the island to the table. He served you both a generous heaping of lasagna. You were having a hard time stopping yourself from gobbling down the steaming hot food before it was cool enough to not burn your mouth. When you were able to take a bite, you moaned in pleasure at the taste. Exactly the way Bobby makes it.
"Should I be jealous of the lasagna?"
You tried to glare at Buck, but you couldn't help but laugh. "It's just so good. I can't believe you got Bobby's recipe."
You both ate in mostly silence. You were too busy devouring the delicious food, while Buck was trying to figure out how he was going to pop the question. Eventually, he decided to just go for it before he lost his nerve.
"You know," he started, "there is a big reason Bobby finally gave me his lasagna recipe."
You looked at him, waiting for him to go on. Instead of elaborating further, you watch as his hand reaches for his pocket. Your eyes widen as he pulls a ring box from his pocket, opens it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring, and placed it in front of you.
"I told him I wanted to make you a special dinner because I wanted to ask you to marry me."
Your eyes were glued to the ring until your vision became blurry. You looked up at Buck's face to see him watching you closely, studying your face as if he wasn't sure if your tears were good or bad. Your body moved before your mind could catch up to it, lunging across the table to kiss Buck. He chuckled against your lips as he pulled you onto his lap so that you didn't knock over the food, or hurt yourself further.
"Is that a yes?" he asked between kisses.
"Yes," you breathed. "Absolutely yes, I'll marry you."
Buck beamed as he pulled you in for another kiss. He broke away only to give the ring. You held out your left hand and Buck slid the ring onto your finger. You marveled at its beauty, the diamond twinkling in the kitchen lights, before going back to kissing Buck.
It wasn't the proposal he had planned; it wasn't in a fancy restaurant or at the top of a hiking trail with a beautiful view. It happened in your shared dining room, where you both spent so much time, after a homecooked meal of a recipe from his boss, after Buck had worked an early shift and you had a sprained ankle.
And Eddie was right, it was the most perfect moment of Buck's life.
you ever just suddenly remember that linguini and remy canât communicate. linguini does not have some special ability to understand rats. he just fuckin. accepts that this weird rat wants to cook and can control him with his hair. heâs just okay with that
5 times you embarrass yourself in front of Eddie, and 1 time it bites you in the ass. Somehow, it ends with you, Buck, and Eddie in a relationship? (featuring established Buck X Reader, eventual Buddie X Reader).
Word count: 28k+
Whole work tags: established Buck x Reader; Buddie x Reader; readerâs parent death; reader has dysfunctional parents; NSFW content (fingering, penetration); injuries; offscreen fire emergency; stalking; kidnapping; sexual assault; hospitalisation.
Timeline: Vague season 6ish. Buck still lives in the loft.
Read tags list for trigger warnings.
Due to tumblrâs 1000 blocks restrictions, the fic will be posted in parts. You can read the whole fic on AO3, or wait for updates on tumblr.
1.
Somehow, it happens at the same time.
You stumble, and the door opens. Your eyes are closed, curled into yourself, prepared for the fall, but it doesnât happen.
Strong arms catch you.
âOh!â you squeak out.
âUmâŠâ an unfamiliar, deep voice hedges.
You blink your eyes open, seeing a handsome, dark haired man stare at you, confusion clearly painted on his face.
âUm. Buckâs justâgone to get more drinks. Something stronger than champagne,â you say. Itâs obviousâyouâre at Buckâs place. This man probably came looking for him, evidently looking for the man in question, and wholeheartedly confused at the sight of a you thatâs almost naked, save for your undergarments.
âAre you⊠okay?â he asks. His eyes roam around the entryway, gently guiding you into the apartment so he can close the door.
Thatâs fair. You had been getting cold, goosebumps breaking out on your arms. You inch a little closer to him, trying to relish in the warmth radiating from his body. âYep! Weâre celebrating! Kinda. He should be back soon.â
âWhat are you kind of celebrating?â the stranger seems amused, echoing your words.
âMy mom died. I feel bad for thinking she deserves it, and I also feel bad because I miss my mom. Parents areâtheyâre complicated.â
âYeah, theyââ
The door opens again.
âEddie? I saw your carââ
âBuck!â you cheer.
âBuck,â Eddie greets.
You let out a loud gasp, interrupting them. âWait, youâre Eddie?!â You turn back to the man who still has warm hands on your bare arms. You throw yourself against him, embracing him like youâre long-lost friends and not strangers who have just met five seconds ago. âAw, you are as pretty as Buck says you are. Howâs Chris?â
Eddie hesitates. âChris isââ
âOooookay.â Buck, face beginning to redden, scoops you away from Eddie. âLetâs get you in some clothes.â
âAnd more drinks.â
âYeah, I got that too.â
âThanks, Buck. Youâre the best,â you say. You pad upstairs to his bedroom. Or, try to. Somehow, again, you trip.
âWhoa, okayâ!â This time, Buck is the one that catches you before you face-plant onto the stairs.
âThe stairs hate me,â you whine, sullen. Your moodâs tanked, a complete 180 from the joy you had expressed not five seconds ago.
âNo. No, they don't, honey.â
âYes, they do. They donât want me. No one wants me.â
âThatâs not true.â Buck cups your face, leaning down to face you. Even drunk, he doesnât want you to entertain that possibility.
âUh.â Eddie clears his throat.
When you both look up from your drunken pity party, you see Eddie holding out his jacket in your direction.
âSince the stairs hate you,â he offers.
You sniffle as Buck takes the jacket, wrapping it around your body. âThank you,â you say wetly.
Eddie nods in acknowledgement.
âThanks,â Buck says. He rubs your arms, then leads you to the couch, depositing you on it.
âDrink,â you call out in reminder.
âYeah, Iâll get them.â He meets Eddieâs eyes, chin gesturing towards the kitchen.
They head off, and you promptly fall asleep on the couch.
2.
The second time you meet Eddie Diaz, youâre a little more clear-headed, though nursing a nauseating hangover. You groan before pasting on a smile. âHi.â
âWeâve met,â Eddie says, thoroughly entertained by the turn of events. Not that he thinks you deserve what is sure to be a hangover of titanic proportions, but heâs tickled by your unlucky demise.
âSo Iâve heard,â you say, scratching your nose in embarrassment. âBuck told me. Anyway, I promise, Iâm a lot more composed than that. That wasâhumiliating. And I donât really remember anything, so I do apologise if I said or did anything that might have offended youââ
âNo, you didnât. You didnât say anything.â
âAt least thereâs that.â You take a sip of your coffee, grimacing. You definitely need it to remain awake, but youâre sure itâs going to go through you in an unpleasant way.
âSo, howâd you two meet?â
âLibrary,â you say. Both your gazes gravitate to Buckâheâs chatting to the cashier by the register, ordering food for the three of you. âI was working. He wanted some help on some parenting books,â you say absently.
âOh,â Eddie says. Thereâs something swarming in his stomach at the thought of Buck in the library, lost, looking for books on how to raise a kid. For Chris.
âIâm not supposed to tell you that,â you say, covering your mouth.
He visibly relaxes, sinking against his seat again. âNo? He tell you to keep it a secret from me?â
âNo. Itâs library privacy policy. Patrons are entitled to privacy when it comes to their borrowing history. I shouldnât have told you that.â
âYour secretâs safe with me.â
You nod, but your hand remains over your mouth. âThank you.â
When Buck comes back, he sits beside you, one arm across the back of your chair. âThey said it should only take another 20.â
âItâs okay,â Eddie reassures.
âBut Chrisââ
âCarla has him. And sheâs sticking around for dinner if you two want to join.â
âI get to meet Chris?â you ask, uncertain. You didnât think Eddie would be so willing to let strangers meet his son. Sure, youâre the partner of his best friend, but youâre essentially strangers. Hell, the first time youâve met the guy, you were so drunk you didnât remember. You think you behaviour screams irresponsible adult.
âYeah. Any friend of Buckâs is a friend of Chris. He loves the guy.â
Buck ducks his head when you turn to look at him.
âYou guys are so sweet,â you say.
Just as your food arrives, you feel your stomach gurgle. And not in the Iâm starving way that you had been before you downed your coffee. Itâs heavy, and you feel yourself begin to sweat.
âI⊠need to go,â you say quietly.
âWhat?â Buck furrows his brows, fork midway to his plate. âBut the food just got here.â
âI know. You guys can have it. Or I can take it home. I just⊠I really need to go. I think itâs the hangover, Iâm not really feeling well, and Iââ
âI didnât mean to make you uncomfortable,â Eddie pipes in.
When you look at him, thereâs genuine concern on his face, like heâs afraid he overstepped.
âWhat? No, youââ you start.
âI know Chris is my kid, and heâs technically Buckâs too, but it doesnât have to mean anything if youâre notââ
âNo, oh my God, thatâs notââ
âI promise, I didnât meanââ
âGuys, I thinkââ
âI need to use the bathroom!â you interrupt. Your face is hot. Your stomach is twisting. You avoid looking at either of the two men. And anyone else at the cafe. Just in case you were louder than necessary. You canât really tellâyour head is pounding. âI think mixing coffee with the hangover isnât agreeing with my stomach, so I really need to use the bathroom. For a while. I was trying to make a tactful exit. Itâs got nothing to do with meeting Chris, but I would love to. Iâm so sorry.â Then you scamper off to the bathroom.
3.
Youâre sure heâs an incredibly kind man, but you never want to see Eddie Diaz again.
âBaby,â Buck coos, bundling you up. He drops onto your couch, you situated on top of him. Heâs facing the muted TV screen, while your legs are sprawled atop the seat cushions. His hand rub your legs.
âNoooooo,â you bemoan. âDinner canât happen. Iâm going to combust into flames if I see him again.â
âWell, itâs lucky weâre both firefighters,â Buck teases, kissing your cheek.
You groan even louder. âI can never show my face in public again.â
âThatâs a shame. Itâs a really pretty face.â
âWeâll have to be hermits for the rest of our lives. Iâm not going back out there.â
Buck feels something flutter in his stomach at the mention of rest of our lives. âYeah?â He clears his throat when it comes out hoarser than he'd like. âAnd rob the world of two pretty faces?â
You tuck your face into his neck. Lips against soft skin, kissing him; you feel him shiver against you. âMy babyâs head is so, so big. Weâre lucky youâve got a good heart, and youâre not some weird narcissist with an ego and an ugly personality.â
âYou can thank Maddie for that.â
You hum, not wanting to verbally disagree. Youâre sure his sister did a great job raising Buck, but you know heâs who he is due to himself. Maybe Maddie planted the seed, but Buck watered and bloomed the flower in spite of everything.
âEddie says itâs okay, you know. That you donât have to be embarrassed.â
Eddie, obviously, had other commitments with Chris, so left easily. No hard feelings, according to what Buck relayed.
But still. Youâre mortified. You may not remember what happened the first time you met him, but you distinctly recall prancing around Buckâs apartment, practically naked, getting drunker and drunker as the night went on. If Eddie came after that, well. Wasted you is something you typically try to avoid, but finding out your mother had passed away brought up complicated and ugly feelings you would have rather forgotten.
âI donât want you moping around by yourself.â
âI donât mope.â
Buck says your name warningly. Heâs serious, and he rarely is.
You sniff. You know his heart is in the right place. âOkay.â
Dinner passes without incident, surprisingly for you. Christopher Diaz in an angel that absolutely adores his father and worships Buck. Carla is a gorgeous soul that loves her boys so much. But not once do they make you feel like an outsider.
The adults are a little more tactful, but Chris tugging you over to the couch to play games to help âcheer you upâ clues you into the real reason for the dinner. You know that Buck didnât want you moping alone, but surmise that Buck managed to rope Eddie, Christopher, and Carla into this too.
But itâs fine. You look over Chrisâ head, watching the three of them converse as they clean up the kitchen. And as if Buck notices your gaze, he looks up from the plate heâs clearing, sending you a smile.
You smile back, feeling warm.
A week later, and another one of Buckâs days off brings you grocery shopping with him. And Eddie. Running errands with Buck is a usual occurrence. Completing errands with your boyfriend and his best friend, however, is not. Theyâd been trying to re-sync their grocery runs for a while, apparently.
Buck presses a kiss to your forehead, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he trudges through the pantry aisle, leaving you with the other half of the list. And Eddie.
âSorry,â Eddie says. âIf I knew you were spending the day together, I wouldnât have tried to do this with Buck.â
âItâs okay,â you reassure. âThough, it seems like this is your thing to do together, and Iâm the one intruding.â
Eddie snorts, shaking his head. âNot sure I want to know what that means.â
âIt means, Diaz, one of us is third-wheeling and Iâm pretty sure itâs not you.â
âNo, câmonââ
Heâs interrupted by your name being called out. You whirl towards the voice, seeingâ
âOh no,â you let out.
âWhat?â
âMy ex.â
âOh. Awkward.â
âExtremely.â This is not your regular grocery store. Youâre here because this is the one that Buck likes going with Eddie. Your local haunt did not include your ex, which was partly why you had chosen it when you first moved away from him.
âHey!â Your ex, Ben, looms over you, pulling you into a hug that you make no effort to return.
âHey,â you greet flatly.
âDid you move again? I donât remember ever seeing you around here.â
âUm, no. Iâm grocery shopping with myâboyfriend.â
âOh.â Benâs gaze slides toward Eddie, whoâs awkwardly hovering near you. Ben sticks his hand out. âBen.â
Youâre quickly realising your mistake.
Eddie shakes his offered hand. âEddie.â
You turn your head to meet Eddieâs gaze, mouthing please. You just need him to go along with it. The last thing you want is for Ben to overstay the chance meeting any further. Especially if Buck is going to come back with his share of the shopping and youâve not started on your half.
Eddie has a tight smile on his face as he lets go of Benâs hand.
You surreptitiously inch closer to Eddieâs side, and his arm easily slings over your shoulders. You definitely owe him one.
âHowâs your mom?â Ben asks.
âSheâs dead.â You paste on a smile.
âOh. Iâm sorry. I didnât know.â
âYeah. I figured. You werenât at the funeral.â
âI thoughtâI mean, no one told me,â he says, defensively.
âYeah. That tends to happen when no one wants to tell you things.â
âAre you still mad at me?â Ben asks, like heâs the poor victim of a wrongful grudge; like you should have forgiven him by now.
You blink at him. âUhâyeah, dude. Thatâs what happens when you sleep with someoneâs mom.â
âJesus,â Eddie mutters under his breath. His hand squeezes your shoulder. Thereâs a concerned furrow between his brows. Parents are complicated, you had said. Thereâs complicated, and then thereâs this, he thinks. A âkind of celebrationâ seems ill-fitting and apt, all at once.
Benâs eyes narrow at Eddie, attention drawn onto him. It makes something in you flare upâEddie doesnât need it, but you want to protect him from Ben and what experience tells you can be sharp, harsh words. âHow long have you been seeing him for? Is he why you didnât return my calls?â
âAre you stuâserious? Are you serious?â you ask.
Eddie ducks his head, clearing his throat to cover what you think sounds suspiciously like a laugh. His face is smoothed out when he looks up at Ben. âCome on, dude. Iâm pretty sure your calls havenât been going through for a different reason.â Eddie wouldnât blame you if you were either ignoring them, or had already blocked Benâs number.
Ben scowls at him. âButt out, Edward. Mind your fucking business.â
âItâs Eddie. And it is my business. Iâm literally the boyfriend.â
You suck in a breath, covering up your reaction by stepping forward. Eddieâs hand grazes against your arm as the weight slides off. âI think you should leave us alone. I donât really want to talk to you.â
âYou and your grudges.â Ben rolls his eyes. âYou donât even like your mom. Even before all of that happened. But noâeverything always happens to you, and youâre always the victim, and itâs always someone elseâs fault.â
âGo to Hell, Ben.â
âWhat happened to needing me? What happened to being desperate for me? You used to be all over meââ He grabs your arm when you try to walk away from his tirade.
âGet offââ
âBack off.â Eddie wrenches the guy away from you, standing between you and Ben.
Your heart thuds in your chest.
Benâs gaze flickers between Eddie, and you behind him. âEnjoy the sloppy seconds. Youâll get bored, sooner than later.â
Eddie reaches behind him, his hand taking a hold of your wrist, taking a step backwards towards you. âGo fuck yourself, actually.â Without waiting for a response, he marches you both through the aisles, wounding through them until you lose sight of Ben.
âSorry,â you finally say. âSorry about saying you were my boyfriend.â
Thereâs a beat of silence as he lets go of your wrist. You pretend to investigate the shelves.
âDoes Buck know about him?â Eddie asks.
âThat heâs here? Probably not. That I have an ex that slept with my mom? Yeah. That was a third date story. Lucky you for finding out now.â
âSeems like a piece of work.â
You snort. âYeah. Eight months of him on his best behaviour, until I got comfortable enough to let him meet my parents. It was like a flip switched, and I had no idea who this new person was.â
âHow long ago was that?â
Taking a bottle of condiment of the shelf, your eyes scan over the ingredients on the back. âTwo years ago, maybe? Really did a number on my ability to trust in potential partners.â
âAt least you met Buck.â
You smile. âYeah. It helps that my competition just died.â
He chokes on a sharp bark of laughter. âJesus.â
Silence lapse between you two again.
âAre you okay?â he asks.
âYeah. Itâsâyeah. Iâm okay.â
âDid he hurt you?â
You look up at him, seeing concern in his eyes. You shake your head. âNo. Heâhe was mean, sometimes, but he never got physical like that before.â
âThatâs the first time?â
âYeah. Heâsâmad, probably. I donât know. I was fine forgetting about him.â
âI donât blame you.â
âHey, there you guys are.â Buckâs voice pops in. His basket jostles, one of his arms resting on Eddieâs shoulders. âDid you even look for anything?â He eyes both your empty baskets.
Buck frowns. âThe one that slept with your mom?â
You nod. âHeâs here, by the way. I may have told him Eddie was my boyfriend to get away from him.â
The only response is Buck laughing.
âStop that. Stop laughing.â You, yourself, are trying not to laugh, attempting indignation at the situation. Trying to find solidarity in Eddie proves futile. Eddie has his lips pressed together, looking everywhere but you and Buck.
You feign stomping away, but really, you just need to get the grocery shopping done and get out of here. Hopefully without ever seeing Ben again.
âYouâre always in situations,â Buck says between chuckles. He easily catches up to you with long strides.
âMe? Says the firefighter thatâs always in situations.â
âNo, Iâm not.â
âYes, you are,â you and Eddie say at the same time.
âHah! See?â You share a fist bump with Eddie. âSituations. Eddie works with you and he still agrees with me.â
âThatâs not fair.â
You look down at your list as Buck and Eddie continue bickering. Lettuce. Cucumbers. âDid you get the juice?â You start rifling through Buckâs basket.
âNo, that was on yours.â
âOh. Itâs not written here, but I can get it.â You write out orange juice before you can forget.
âYouâre in as many situations as I am, though,â Buck explains to Eddie. âWe have the same calls.â
âI handle them better than you do,â Eddie says.
âHe does,â you agree.
âYouâre not even there,â Buck exclaims. How did he turn into the one being made fun of when it started with you?
âNo, but I get enough texts about it.â You clear your throat, doing your best Buck impression. âOh my God, Eddie lifted me up the wall today. The harness was so slackâhe did all of the work. Some girls were flirting with Eddie andââ
âOoookay!â Buck encircles his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your lips to silence you. He snatches the list from between your fingers. âIâm going to do the rest of the shopping. See you. Love you.â He kisses your cheek and runs off.
You turn to Eddie, still grinning. His cheeks are red. âI told you I was third-wheeling you guys.â
4.
Your hips move against his hand, his fingers buried inside you. Bitten off gasps as you curl forwards, your forehead against his shoulder.
Buck hums, pressing kisses to your shoulder. âThere you go.â
âBuck,â you whine.
He shushes you, even though he shifts, fingers moving in the exact right way that hits yourâ
âAh, Buck, yes yes, there.â
âThere?â
Even though you canât see his face, youâre so sure thereâs that smug little smirk on his face.
âOh, please,â you beg. Your arms encircle his broad shoulders, trying to give yourself more leverage to fuck yourself on his fingers.
âPlease what, baby?â
âI want to feel you inside me.â
âI am inside you.â
You whine, shaking your head. âI need your cock. Please.â
âYou will, sweetheart. Just want you to come on my fingers, first. Get you all nice and ready for me.â
You let out something between a moan and another noise of protest. He had been quick to realise you liked coming even before he even got his cock in you. And who was he to say no to that, even with your impatience?
âThatâs it. I got you.â
You know youâre straddling the line, hips moving at their own pace. Buck uses his other hand to lift your head, lips against your neck, kissing, sucking. You moan, feeling yourself clench around his fingers.
âCâmon, beautiful. I know you want to. I know youâve been thinking about me filling you up all day.â
âOhhh, Buck, yes, please. Please please.â
âJust come for me first, baby. Then Iâll give you what you want.â
Thereâs a sound in your throat, high and reedy and you feel it build in your stomach. You reach down, providing additional stimulation.
Buck nips at your neck, and you moan, grinding down into both yours and his fingers.
âThatâs it, baby.â
You clench tightly around his fingers as you come. âBuck, Buck, yes yes, yes, oh my God, Iâm coming.â
âThere you go. God, youâre so beautiful,â Buck murmurs against your neck, his fingers still pumping inside you. An arm secured around your waist, weighing you down into his fingers. Your hips rolling, drawing out your orgasm.
You whine, gasping. Youâre not sure who moves first, but your lips are crushed together. Wet, open-mouthed kisses. Your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. Youâre boneless with his fingers crooked inside, repetitive motion of fingers curling back and forth, rubbing that spot inside you.
âBuck,â you whimper. You bite at his neck, your form of retaliation to how sensitive heâs making you feel.
âI got you,â he says, chuckling at your defiance. Itâs cute.
âNeed you. Please.â
Buck removes his fingers from inside you, and you blindly reach down to jerk his cock. Once, twice.
Buck moans into another kiss, feeling a small semblance of relief. Heâs so desperate to be inside you. His hands on your waist, effortlessly lifting you. Your hand guiding his length to your opening, slick and warm.
A slow, tortuous slide. Youâre both moaning againâit feels heavenly, to finally have him inside you. He bottoms out. You rest your forehead against his cheek, slowly rolling your hips against him.
âBaby.â Buckâs fingers dig into your skin.
You need him, you want him to leave imprints of himself across your flesh. âI love you,â you whisper.
âI love you too.â
âFuck me, Buck.â
And he does. Arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place as he fucks up into your tight, warm heat. Youâre gasping, breathless and so, so full of him. The only thing you can do is hold on.
Gasps, higher pitched noises released between you. He loves every one. He groans, low in his throat, forehead pressed against your shoulder.
âHey, Buckâoh shitââ
âEddieâ!â
âOh myââ
You didnât even hear the door open. You instinctively turn towards the new voiceâEddieâs voiceâbut Buckâs hands grip your waist, rolling you both until your back meets the couch cushions. Heâs looming over you, hiding you from view.
âHoly shit, Iâm so sorryâ!â Eddie immediately pivots, ducking behind the wall of the entryway.
You and Buck are left staring at each other with wide-eyes. He climbs off of you as you harmlessly slap at Buckâs shoulder.
âOh my God, do you guys have keys to each otherâs places?â you hiss.
âWell, yeah.â Buck scrambles to get his clothes on. âOne minute, Eddie!â he calls out.
âNo!â Eddie yells back. âItâs okay! It can wait until tomorrow!â
âToo late for that, buddy!â you pipe in. You pick up a shirt, slipping it on before finding your underwear. You tuck yourself under the lone blanket on the couch. Buck had suggested taking your activities upstairs. You, however⊠are now regretting not listening to him.
âSorry,â Eddie says, again, loud enough for both of you to hear.
Buck presses a kiss to your forehead before he darts out from behind the floating stairs.
âIâm sorry, I should have called,â you hear Eddie say in a low voice.
Your head thumps against the couch.
You could suffocate yourself under the blanket. That would save you from the embarrassment. Excellent plan.
5.
âWhat are you doing here?â you frown, jaw clenching, swallowing thickly.
âThe hospital called me,â your dad says. He hovers near the door, having only taken a couple steps into the room. He doesnât come any nearer; always distant.
You drop your head into a nod. âEmergency contact.â
âYou forgot to update it.â
âYeah. I did.â But you donât even know who it would have been updated to. Your only other family is your father, even if he lives out of state.
The way he looks at you radiates disapproval.
âI didnât end up here on purpose.â This time goes unspoken. You recall a previous hospital visitation from him in your teenage years, your mother oscillating between crying and screaming at you for your stupidity. How could you do this to me? You ungrateful child.
Your dad looks at you, weighing the world against what he sees. âI canât tell with you, sometimes.â
Your eyes well with tears. You wonder what he sees. If he sees the same thing you do when you wake every morning, maybe that explains why heâs constantly disappointed.
You look away, staring at the blanket. âThe doctors said Iâll be good to go tomorrow morning.â
âGood. I need to get back home. I travelled far to get here, you know?â
âI know. Iâm sorry.â
âAnd you need to be more careful. Your mother is gone, now.â
âI know.â
âShe wouldnât like seeing you this way.â
âShe wouldnât care.â
And he doesnât dispute it.
You let out a shuddering breath the same time the door closes behind him as he leaves. You lean into the pillows behind you, your good hand shakily covering your face as you cry.
Youâre alone.
Tomorrow morning comes, and youâre released by the hospital. They sent you away with a sling for your fractured clavicle, and some ointment and additional dressing for the small burns on your side.
You know Buckâs a phone call away.
Heâs triple texted you, and had attempted to call you once during the time of the incident, and another time whilst you were in the hospital. He still doesnât know what happened. You hadnât had a chance to call him, and no one else knew he existed in your life.
The phoneâs pressed to your ear, the dial tone ringing.
âHey.â He picks up after the third ring, voice breathless. âAre you okay? You disappeared.â Thereâs something cautious in his tone. You know you put it there.
Your last text to him was yesterday at the start of your lunch break. It wasnât even a textâyou laugh reacted to something that he had sent in the morning, intending to reply after getting your food. For all intents and purposes, youâve ghosted him for 22 hours. You feel something in your chest squeeze.
âCan you come over? Orâor I can come over?â
âAre you okay?â he asks again, because youâre avoiding his question.
âIâno.â You suck in a breath. âYes. Yes and no. There was a fire at work. I think the 133 got to us.â
âWhat? What happened? Where are you?â
âIâm at home. I justâI donât know know if I want to be alone. My dad came by, in the hospital. Heâs my emergency contact, so heâs the only person that knows what happened, and I justââ
âOkay. Okay, Iâll be there. Just sit tight.â
It simultaneously feels like the longest and shortest wait time. The drive between you isnât a long one. Especially out of peak hour traffic, which it is, given that itâs almost 10 in the morning.
When you open the door, Buck cups your face between his palms, fingers ghosting over the bruises on your face. âHey,â he whispers.
âHi,â you croak out. You tuck yourself against his chest, and his arms gingerly wrap around you. Heâs scared to hurt you.
âI got you.â And it sounds like a promise.
You get deposited on the couch, and Buck tries not to, you know he tries not to, but he canât help but hover. Heâs essentially waiting on you, hand and foot.
âBabe,â you say, slotting a palm against his cheek. âYou donât need to do this.â
âI want to.â
âI know. But you donât need to. Itâs okay.â
âI didnât hear from you,â he whispers, a soft confession.
âI know. Iâm sorry.â
âItâs not your fault. I just⊠I wasnât sure. I didnât know if you wereâŠâ
âRunning away?â
âYeah.â
âIâm right here.â You place your head against his shoulder. âI love you.â
âI love you, too.â
Sometime later, he asks if Eddie can come by. âChris is doing dinner with friends, apparently. Eddie wanted to hang but if weâre here, then maybe he can come here instead.â
This wouldnât be the first time Eddie visited your apartment. Or Chris. Since the grocery store incident, youâve started hanging out as the weeks went on. Most of the time, itâs the three of you. Buck, somehow, and yet predictably, doesnât know how to separate his time off between his best friend and partner.
Grocery shopping remains a Buck and Eddie adventure, since you didnât want risk running into Ben. But you still did other thingsâlazy movie nights, pizza parties, board games; one accidental sleepover at Eddieâs place. The crick in your neck told you that couch was not made for two people to fall asleep on.
You find your social circle is incredibly small outside of coworkers and work acquaintances. The camaraderie at your work doesnât quite hold a flame to the bonds between the 118, but that doesnât mean you donât enjoy the occasional outing.
âYeah. Two birds, one stone. I donât want you to use your day off to babysit me.â
âHey, no, Iâm not babysitting. I would have wanted to be with you, anyway.â He crowds into your space, kissing your forehead. âOkay?â
âYouâre sweet.â
Buck hums before he pecks your lips. âIâll do dinner for you guys.â
âCheck the fridge. You might need to buy extra stuff.â
âAlright. Iâll handle it. You sit here and look pretty. Hey, look, youâre doing great already.â
You canât help the grin, pulling him in for another kiss. âSays the pretty boy.â
âWe can both be pretty. Okayâwhen Eddie gets here, you stay. Iâll get the door.â
âButââ
âYou. Stay.â He takes the remote from the coffee table and places it in your hand.
You drop it onto your lap and flip him off. You hear his delighted laughter in response as he busies himself.
Eddie gets here late afternoon, after he drops off Chris with his friends for dinner. True to Buckâs words, you remain on the couch as he gets the door.
You hear them murmur out greetings before Eddie walks over. He squeezes your good shoulder, depositing himself next to you. âYou feeling okay?â
âGetting restless.â You hand the remote over to Eddie, setting down the book that you started reading after deciding that you were losing interest in staring at a screen for a few hours.
âCollarbone?â
âMm. And a few burns. Racking up the scars count.â
âMight be catching up to us.â
âI highly doubt it.â
âI just want to sayâif I was a betting man, I would be winning,â Eddie whispers, conspiratorially.
âWhat?â You perk up. It sounds like gossipâBuck gossip, to be specific.
âHe just got a bit mopey about you suddenly ghosted him. I, of course, had your back. Said you wouldnât do that to him. Something probably happened to keep you away. I was thinking work related, though, not âget yourself into hospitalâ related.â
âAw, Eddie. Thatâsâthank you for not thinking Iâm the worst person in the world.â
âHey. Itâs my job to keep him in check for you.â
You lounge on on the couch for until Buck remembers that they need to change your dressing.
âBath first, and then weâll get it changed.â He inspects it, lifting up your shirt. Specks of blood and pus seep through. Itâs still sore.
Despite your protests that you have working legs (you have a limp. Itâs not terribleâyouâve sprained your ankle before), they get you to the bathroom. Your bedroom sits opposite it.
Eddie walks in first, perched on the edge of the tub. He turns the taps on, waiting for the tub to fill. âCâmon. Get your clothes off and get in the bathtub.â
You wrinkle your nose at him. âAre you propositioning me, Diaz?â Deflection. Youâve learned its the 118âs greatest tactic against traumatic, life-altering events. âWhile my boyfriendâs in the other room?â
âNoââ
âYes,â Buck calls out. He hovers by the entryway to the bathroom, arms full of laundry he rummaged through your room for. Apparently, you canât do them yourself. âIf it gets you in the tub and cleaned up, then yes. Eddie has my permission to do what he needs.â
You roll your eyes, but it carries no heat. âFuck you, Buckley.â
âIn six to 12 weeks. When youâre recovered.â That Goddamn impish grin takes over his face.
A beat. âYou asked my doctor?!â
âSo did you.â
âYou freak.â
âYou like it.â
âGuys.â Eddie clears his throat, busying himself with the taps. He feels warm. Itâs probably the steam curling up from the water. And definitely not because heâs thinking about that time he accidentally walked into Buckâs loft when you two were on the couch. Doing⊠Nope, no sir. Heâs not going there today.
âSorry,â you say, biting down on the smile that seems to take over your face every time you see Buck smile like that.
âBathtub,â Buck says, and his tone brooks no arguments. Again, his voice is unusually serious and you find that you can never really disagree when heâs in this mood. Maybe heâs picked up on it, and heâs doing it purposefully just to watch you fold. You wouldnât be surprised.
âI can do it myself. You donâtâthank you, but you donât really need to be in here, Eddie.â You turn to where Eddieâs perched on the edge of the tub, turning the taps off.
Eddieâs gaze flits from you, to Buck.
You follow his attention, and see the tail end of a nod.
âFine,â Eddie relents.
âAre you serious?â you demand, gobsmacked. Your eyes are darting between Buck and Eddie. âWhy are you acting like heâs the boss of me? You donât need to check with him to see if I can take a bath by myselfââ
âWeâre just worried about you.â Buck tries to calm you down.
âOh, like the both of youâve never done something this before?â
âThatâs why we know youâre being incredibly stubborn when you donât need to be.â
âWeâre going to be outside,â Eddie interjects, before it can turn into another childish bickering match. To be fair, he finds it wholly entertaining, but he came here to help. You quarrelling with each other isnât helping. âAnd periodically checking in on you.â
You let out a weighted sigh, while maintaining eye contact with Eddie. Then very obviously roll your eyes, just to let him know of your displeasure. âFine.â
Eddie shakes his head exasperatedly, but thereâs a hint of a smile on his face.
Without further prompting, you unbutton your pants with one hand.
âOopâthatâs my cue.â Eddie pivots on his feet and beelines for the door immediately.
Buck drapes a fresh towel on the towel rack. âWeâre right outside, okay?â And his voice is softer. Quieter.
âOkay.â
âLet us know if you need help.â His blue eyes are imploring as he bends down to press a kiss to your forehead. âPlease.â
âOkay.â Your resistance deflates, thumping your head against his chest. Heâs worried. He has every right to be, you think. If the roles were reversed, youâd want to do the same for him.
âI love you, baby.â
âI love you, too.â
Fifteen minutes later, with three check-ins from them, youâre done. It was like clockwork, and of course it was, because Eddie has a military background. Itâs in the name that heâs militant about this kind of stuff.
âBuck, can you change my dressing?â You wander into the kitchen where you can smell him cooking.
He turns from where heâs stationed at the stove. âEddie, can you take over?â
Eddie, whoâs sitting at the counter space on his phone, looks up. âUhâfor the cooking?â
âNo, donât touch my cooking. For the dressing, Mr Medic.â
âYeah, I can do that. Câmere.â
You draw closer to where heâs sitting, holding out the bag that you had been given on release, the ointment and dressing in there. When he takes it from you, you use your free hand to lift up your shirt. It sucks that you broke your clavicle on your dominant side. You think about trying to eat; youâd probably make a mess.
âDoes it hurt?â Eddie asks, focused as he works.
âKind of. Probably a four out of ten. Was at seven, before.â
âThatâs good that itâs gone down. But you know it usually means youâre probably at a five or six?â
âBut I said four.â
âPeople tend to downplay the pain chart.â
âBecause it doesnât really make sense. I donât have a reference point for a 10.â
Quiet settles between you, and you focus on breathing, staring at a singular point on the wall as Eddie works. You can hear Buck clattering in the kitchen, and something soothes inside. Youâre usually alone, but at this momentâright now, youâre not.
âAlright,â Eddie says. âDone.â
You lower your shirt. âWow. Youâre good at that.â
âOh, really?â
âMhm. Insane idea, but have you considered becoming a medic for the LAFD?â
Buck laughs from the stove.
âFunny. Real funny. I didnât know you were dating a comedian, Buck,â Eddie says, shaking his head good-naturedly.
âOh, I didnât tell you? One of the best.â Buck sounds smug. And happy.
âThanks,â you say softly, and Eddie nods at you in response.
âFoodâs ready.â Buck carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders, and one hand on Eddieâs where heâs sitting down.
âI can set up.â Eddie tries to rise from the chair.
âNo,â you say, stopping him. âYouâre a guest. My mom will probably haunt me if she found out I let guests do anything in my house.â
âHey,â Buck interjects. âIâm a guest.â
âEh. Debatable, darling.â
âSee if I ever cook for you again.â
âYou will. He will,â Eddie says. âItâs the same at mine.â
âHow come Iâm always exempt from the house guest rule?â Still, he ushers you away when you try to get the utensils from the drawers.
âItâs what you get for being a token white man,â you say.
Eddie snorts out a laugh while Buck lets out a faux wounded noise.
You open the fridge, getting the jug of water.
âOh, hey, let me get that.â
âI still have one good working arm. And Iâm not weak.â
âOf course not.â Eddie takes the jug from you anyway.
Buck pulls out a chair. âSit,â he says pointedly to you.
âYeah, yeah.â
After dinner and your painkillers, youâre knocked out on the couch. The painkillers probably made you drowsy. You wake to Buck crouching in front of you, gently stroking your hair as you get your bearings.
âHey,â he whispers.
You make a sleepy noise.
Buck thinks itâs adorable. âItâs getting late. We should go.â
Youâre about to ask him to stay, but it registersâwe, he said. And if Buck is in front of you. Then.
You jerk up. âSorryââ You let out a sharp hiss as pain shoots through your side and collarbone.
âWhoa, heyââ
âCarefulââ
Eddie. You fell asleep on Eddie. Your head was in his lap. You let out a groan as both Eddie and Buck help you sit up. Eddie repositions your sling as Buck checks the dressing.
âSorry,â you say. âI didnât mean to fall asleep.â
âYou needed it,â is all Eddie says.
Buck checks your ankle as well. âAlright. See you in 24 hours.â
Eddie gently pats your shoulder before he gets up. âSee you. Look after yourself.â
âBye, Eddie,â both you and Buck chorus.
Buck takes Eddieâs spot, letting you lean against him.
âYou canât stay?â you whisper, even though you know the answer.
âMy stuffâs at home, baby. Iâll bring some over after my shift. That way I can stay next time.â
You snuggle against him, his lips pressed to your temple.
