Inspired by @zainclaw‘s post about Buck’s feelings around being called Christopher’s dad here is the first thing I’ve written since July 2021.
911/Buddie
2.7k Words
Read on ao3
“You two have an adorable son.”
It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time a stranger decided to comment on what they perceived to be his family. Two men and a young boy out in the world and everyone just assumed they belonged together.
Buck had spent four years of his career as a firefighter turning down proposals for a “proper thank you” from distraught citizens. Every excuse he gave (“I’m taken”, “I’m not interested”, “I’m currently dangling from a cliff, maybe now isn’t the time to ask me”) typically ended in the same shrug and eyeroll – as if to say: “well, I gave it a shot” – before they dropped the conversation all together.
But every once in a while, they would look at Buck, and then they would look at Eddie and apologize for hitting on his boyfriend before walking away.
While uncommon, Buck found he didn’t particularly care if people thought he and Eddie were romantically involved. For one: it wasn’t anyone’s business who he was dating and, two: it added an extra layer of protection from the more persistent interested parties to know his partner could be lurking around any corner.
That is to say: he never lied to people when they assumed he and Eddie were together. But he would never correct them, either.
He was much more vigilant when it came to Christopher.
He loved that little boy and had already proven that he would go to the ends of the earth for him. And once or twice a month, Eddie would have to work and Buck would take Christopher for the afternoon. It would just be the two of them out in the world – usually the zoo because he had taken Eddie’s suggestion of “something inland” to heart after the tsunami had nearly torn them apart. He would be forever grateful that he was still trusted to care for the kid so he wasn’t taking anymore chances. Instead, the two of them would stand in line for every new exhibit opening, and he would listen as Christopher taught him about whatever animal they were going to see (sometimes, he already knew about them but would listen just as intently).
Sometimes, Christopher would get tired from standing in line for so long and start to lean on Buck for support. And, though he offered to carry him, Buck would keep a steady hand on the boy’s back as they toddled forward. Sometimes, Christopher would get a second wind as the excitement to see the alpacas grew too high, giving him the energy to break away from Buck to get a closer look. Of course, Buck would keep pace just behind him, though calling out as though they were miles apart just to keep a smile on the boy’s face. Sometimes, a zookeeper would be answering Christopher’s questions to the best of their ability, and then look up at Buck and say: “If it’s all right with your dad, you can pet her.”
And then Buck’s world would slam to a halt.
He vaguely remembered nodding in permission and watching Christopher shuffle closer to the fence with a strained outstretched hand. In truth, they could have been petting that alpaca for a minute or a decade, Buck’s mind was far away and yet so close.
It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last time, and unlike the feeling of casual comfort he got when people assumed he and Eddie were in a relationship, Buck’s heart ached with something he couldn’t quite put into words. There was something… something wrong with being called “dad” when Eddie wasn’t also around. When it was the three of them, they were being mistaken for a family but when it was just the two of them – when they were a single father and his son – something didn’t sit right.
He tried to remove the thoughts from his mind – he truly did. He would be at a scene, rescuing a child who was crying out for his father and successfully not thinking about Christopher. He would be at the store, picking up the boardgame he’d had his eye on for weeks, and smile when the cashier told him how much her own kid loved that game. He even survived game night with the Diaz boys and didn’t falter when Christopher asked him for help on his science project.
In fact, he managed to pick him up from school without incident a few weeks later, listening cheerfully as the kid recounted his day while they drove to the grocery store. Athena was hosting a party for… some reason (more and more, it felt as though the Grant-Nashs would host a party just because they could – not that Buck would turn down an opportunity to spend time with his friends) and he had it in his mind to make ambrosia salad as his hostess gift.
“All right, buddy, you are in charge of pushing the cart, think you can handle that?” Buck stored the boy’s crutches in the basket of the cart and let Christopher lead them down each aisle. It was a routine they’d built up over the years whenever Eddie asked him to “pick up a few things”. Christopher was the driver and Buck was the navigator. Eddie had made a joke about Buck’s driving skills once when he went with them and observed their routine, but there was also a grateful smile he secreted away for when Christopher wasn’t looking. They both knew the truth and it made Buck’s heart ache with something he couldn’t quite put into words.
They were standing amongst the semi-fresh fruits and vegetables, picking out the best-looking strawberries, when an elderly woman approached. Christopher stepped over to the section of grapes to compare prices (because Eddie was determined to teach his kid to be frugal even if it wasn’t nearly as fun as impulse-buying, in Buck’s opinion). The woman shuffled in beside the firefighter with a pleasant smile on her face.
“I remember when my own were that age. You couldn’t get them that enthusiastic for produce unless you bribed them with something. What did you promise him?”
Where it a year ago, he would have laughed it off. He would have divulged that there were popsicles waiting in the fridge at home – which was still true – and smile at the woman with a bit of pride in his chest, knowing that people would even assume that he was Christopher’s father.
Now, though? Now, the idea of laying claim to the name felt wrong. How did he explain that he wasn’t related? That he was only the boy’s caregiver in the event of his father’s death? That it made him breathless to think there might come a time when he’d have to make trips to the grocery store without Eddie waiting for him at home.
Home.
“I’m-I’m not…”
“Buck, what’s better for the salad: red or green?” Christopher called from a few sections down but his voice felt far away – as if in a distant memory.
“Oh, are you his step-father?” The old woman was still there, casually searching through the strawberries as though she hadn’t sent Buck across the stars to another day when the strawberry juice on his fingers was blood drying on his skin, and the one mumbling his name was a different Diaz.
“Buck?”
“Sorry, buddy.” The firefighter blinked and the memories were pushed to the back of his mind. “Let’s get the red grapes.” He turned towards the woman with the best polite smile he could convince his muscles to produce. “Have a good day.”
And then they were headed towards the check-out line.
And then they were loading the groceries into the back of the jeep.
And then they were on the road for the journey home.
Home.
“Hey Christopher, can I ask you something?” When the child grumbled something close to “what?”, Buck inhaled deeply. “Does anyone ever call me your dad? Like teachers or other adults?”
From the back seat, Buck could hear Christopher shuffling in his seat, contemplating the question.
“I think Mr. McPhail thinks you’re my dad. He said dad was coming to pick me up but you came instead.”
He remembered meeting the boy’s math teacher when he picked up Christopher a few months earlier. He’d shaken the man’s hand and answered questions about Mr. Diaz. He’d called him Mr. Buckley so he must not have confused him for Eddie. He just… assumed that they were both Christopher’s father.
The ache squeezed tighter.
“And, uh, what do you say when people say things like that?”
“I tell them you’re not my dad.” The squeeze folded his heart in half, like wringing a cloth. “I tell them you’re Buck.”
As though that simple four-letter word (barely even a name) could explain what they meant to one another. As if it could explain damp rag that was left of his heart.
“Are you… okay? With people accidentally thinking I’m your dad?”
Again, a moment of silence drew Buck’s eye to the rearview mirror where he watched the young boy – soon to be a young man – looking out the window before he answered.
“Yeah. Lots of people have two dads.”
Buck stared in the rearview mirror for so long that the driver behind him honked in annoyance. As he drove forward, Christopher’s words echoed in his chest until they wound around his aching heart. Somewhere in that answer was the word Buck had been struggling to find.
Home.
It wasn’t until hours later that Buck told Eddie about the incident at the grocery store. The actual details of the events which transpired between Buck and the nice old woman were lost to time, but the conclusion came busting out the moment Christopher was asleep in bed.
“I think we should get married.”
The plate in Eddie’s hand slipped into the sink with a thunk that seemed to match his stunned expression. Even Buck could admit he might have been too impulsive in his desire to talk to his friend. What else was he meant to do when the words have been rolling around in his chest for days – weeks – and had finally formed into something that was too big to be contained.
“You wanna run that by me again, Buck?”
The younger firefighter used a steadying breath to walk to his partner’s side, feigning a casual stance with his back against the kitchen counter; arms and ankles folded as though he weren’t preparing to bare his heart.
“I’ve just been thinking.” He confessed. “And I don’t want to be Christopher’s guardian.”
Eddie abandoned the last of his pretense to turned to completely face Buck. “What?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He cursed himself for not preparing any sort of speech when his next words held so much importance. “What I mean is… well… I don’t want you to die.”
“Me neither.” It didn’t help his confidence that Eddie was his usual sarcastic self while his eyes searched for the truth which Buck knew he couldn’t hide. He opened his mouth to stutter an explanation but Eddie held up his hand to silence him. “Take a breath, okay? Let’s sit down.”
Buck let himself be led to the kitchen table – the table where he’d had so many meals with the Diaz boys, where they made breakfast, and gingerbread houses, and ill-fated science experiments; each one of them a memory, he treasured.
“Okay.” Eddie stilled smirked at him once they were seated across from one another. “Do you want to try and tell me what’s going on? Because I don’t remember the two of us dating so this is a really awkward way to propose.”
“Sorry.” Buck ducked his head, clasping his hands over the table in a sort of prayer for guidance. Whatever words came out of his mouth next would hopefully save him. “Sometimes, people mistake the two of us for a couple. And I don’t really mind – it’s usually easier to go along with it, anyways. And sometimes when me and Christopher (or you, me, and Christopher) are out, people think we’re a family. And again, I don’t really mind.
“But people think I’m his dad, Eddie.” He confessed as though it were some shameful secret which, to his mind, it was. But his partner remained stoic as always. The only hint that he had heard him at all was the twitch of his jaw. “And I like it. I like that people think I’m his dad because he’s a great kid and I am so lucky to know him. There is a future where I get to be his guardian but in order for that to happen, you have to…die.” His voice trailed off and he lost some of the conviction that had led him to this conclusion – this absolutely insane conclusion. Still, he persisted. “And I really don’t want that. The idea of me and Christopher having to go on without you is…” There were no words. “So I figured, in order for me to be Christopher’s guardian without you dying is for the two of us to get married.”
At every turn, there was a voice in his head, warning him to stop. It told him that making this confession to Eddie was one step too far. He was asking for too much – wanting too much – and now that he’d crossed a line, their relationship would be changed forever.
That voice grew louder the longer Eddie stared silently at him from across the table, his expression as unreadable as ever.
“So…” When the man spoke after an infinity of silence, Buck could barely hear him for the ringing in his ears. “You want me to marry you so that you can call yourself my kid’s dad?”
Well, when he put it that way…
“Yeah, I’m just gonna let myself out.” He pushed himself to his feet but a hand over his own stopped him before he could make a clean getaway.
“Buck,” The amusement and pleading in Eddie’s eyes had him sitting down again. “Look, I appreciate the gesture. One of the reasons I put you in my will is because I know you will stop at nothing to make sure he’s taken care of. Including…marrying his dad.” An odd expression cross Eddie’s face then. Something sad and confused; uncomfortable. “But this isn’t the way. I don’t mind that you don’t correct people when they think you’re his dad. I get that it’s just easier and people are less likely to ask questions. And if that means that people think we’re a couple, that’s their business. I do wonder what Christopher thinks about all of thi-”
“He says he doesn’t mind having two dads.” Buck interjected – perhaps a bit too quickly.
“Well, that’s… good.” Once again, Eddie’s face morphed into something unreadable before softening. “My point is: we’re family, Buck; you, and me, and Christopher. I don’t know what labels you’d put on it but we are a family. And the way you feel about you and Christopher having to go on without me: we feel the same.”
Something passed between them in that moment; a conversation with only a piercing look that asked am I allowed to hope? Except, Buck wasn’t sure who was asking and he had no idea of the answer.
Eddie looked at him through hopeful eyes and asked “Are we good?” and all Buck could do was nod.
“But I really should get going.” He concluded, finally rising from his chair. The warmth on the top of his hand was missed immediately, his connection to Eddie so natural he’d forgotten it entirely. “Thanks for the talk.”
Eddie followed him to the door, hands in his front jean pockets as casually as possible given his future sleepless night. “Any time.” He assured the firefighter, and then, with a humorless chuckle, he added: “Besides, I learned a long time ago that getting married for the kids doesn’t end well.”
“We wouldn’t be getting married just for the kids.”
Whether he’d intended it or not, Buck’s answer – and his hopeful gaze – would keep Eddie up the rest of the night. In his mind, he’d imagine a future where he wore another ring on his finger and filled out the miles of paperwork and woke up engulfed in someone’s arms. With a slow smile curling his lips, Eddie mumbled: “I’ll see you tomorrow, Buck.” Before closing the door between them.
Buck didn’t mind so much, however – he had a key, after all. Everything on the other side of that door would still be there tomorrow. With or without a marriage certificate, his family wasn’t going anywhere.
Inspired by This Board by @catdadeddie, enjoy my attempt at being creative.
University Teacher/Librarian AU
Grad student/TA Eddie Diaz spends all his downtime in the university library because his house is a bit crowded at the moment (a new baby, his parents, his abuela, his tia... not sure who's louder). He meets the cute late-night librarian who mostly got hired to put away books but he knows a little bit about everything because why have all these books if you're not gonna read them during your quiet times?
At first, he just goes to Buck for help finding certain books, but sometimes they just sit and chat and he finds that his favourite desk is always free when he goes to study and one time he fell asleep and woke up to a warm cup of coffee waiting for him. And Buck finds he just really likes Eddie's company. A lot of the grad students don't talk to him or discount him because they think he's too dumb to get into University so this was all he could get - he tried the whole University thing but he found a real-world education was much more exciting. Eddie treats him like an equal, plus he's kind and hot and yes, he has a bit of a crush. But it's also just nice to have a friend to keep him company on his long shifts.
Months into their friendship, Buck gets caught in the crossfire of a campus shooter but it makes him realize that life is short and Eddie saved his life so he should probably kiss him. Except Eddie never comes to visit him in the hospital, and by the time he returns to campus, Eddie is gone - presumably graduated. He knows he'll never see him again so he tries to move on.
Years pass and Eddie has graduated, gotten a decent job, and decides to take a now 6 year old Christopher to the local library. Of course, Chris wanders off to look for a specific book but the second Eddie realizes he's lost, there is Chris with his book and a new friend - the local librarian. And wouldn't you know it, it's Buck. Eddie confesses that he wanted to come check on him but he felt guilty thinking if he'd tackled Buck sooner he wouldn't have been hurt. Of course that's crap and Buck kisses him for it - the way he's been wanting to for years.
my sweet darling - how about an armed forces 911 AU? Maybe Eddie meets Navy Seal Buckley overseas? Maybe they meet back stateside at the VA?
You, my darling, always send me such fun and interesting prompts. I promise I didn’t forget.
Ooh, okay. Let’s see...
Prompt Me with AUs
Delta X-Ray (I am Sinking)
Read on Ao3
Eddie first sees him as he’s getting off the plane in Washington. He’s going to receive a medal. Apparently his work in Bagram made him a hero and not a broken, shell of a man. Who knew. And really, it’s just a glance because he has other things to worry about besides a Navy man getting dressed down by his captain. He doesn’t need to hear what’s being said to know that’s exactly what’s happening. He’s seen that look too many times, felt the hot breath of his superior as they spat harsh words meant to ‘toughen him up’.
As he passes the sailor, he hears something to the effect of “if it happens again, you will be dismissed.” And Eddie wonders how many times this particular man has received this exact lecture. It doesn’t really matter, anyways. He just wants to get his medal, shake a few hands of politicians who think they had anything to do with his ‘accomplishment’ and go home to his wife and child – ex-wife, he reminds himself. Shannon had the papers shipped to Afghanistan. Couldn’t get away fast enough, his mind bitterly supplied. All he would have at the end of the day was his son, and a medal to replace the wedding band he’d worn since he was 19.
Before he knows it, he’s standing on a small stage, a million lights flashing in his eyes as cameras and stage lights practically blind him. His shoulder aches – out of the sling for the afternoon so he can at least look more put together than he feels – and he’s dizzy from the attention. That’s his excuse for why he doesn’t recognize the man standing beside him.
“Seaman Petty Officer First Class Evan Buckley.” A blond man steps forward and Eddie catches himself staring at the dress whites and stone expression for longer than is strictly necessary. He seems a far cry from the officer being scolded less than an hour ago, but it is definitely him. And he was standing on stage beside Eddie, about to receive a medal of his own.
“For distinguishing oneself by heroism not involving actual conflict with an enemy of the United States, Petty Officer Buckley is awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Medal.”
As he watches the stripes being pined on the officer’s lapel, he lets himself wonder what crime the man could have committed to be dressed down and rewarded in the same afternoon.
He’s so curious, in fact, that he nearly misses his own name amongst the titles thrown around.
“Staff Sergeant Edmundo Diaz.” He steps forward, holding his breath until the entire ordeal is finally finished. “For gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States, Staff Sergeant Diaz is awarded the Silver Star.” The medal is heavier than he anticipated, but he supposes that makes sense. It is quite a burden he’ll be carrying around, and now he has a gold star to go with it – he wants to chuckle at the irony of his ‘Silver Star’ actually presenting as a golden one.
It seems everything about his life is a life.
There were a lot of reasons Eddie hated attending events like this: The politics, the bravado, the crowds of people ‘thanking him for his service’. Mostly, though: he never knows anyone. Sure, he can charm a senator or two for a few minutes, swap stories with other officers from other divisions about where they were and what they saw. But those are fleeting relationships, meant to get him through the day. He’ll go back to his hotel room at the end of the night with no more friends than when he’d stepped off the plane in this awful, awful town. Eddie is tired of ‘schmoozing’. With any luck, today will be the last time he has to tell the governor’s wife how lovely she looks in her dress.
That’s when he spots the man sitting at the edge of the bar like he’s trying to hide from the world, and he decides to make his way over.
“Do you mind if I join you?” He asks, even as he sits down.
The other man’s eyes light with recognition – and damn, are they as blue as the sea. “Not at all. Diaz, right?”
“Eddie.” He supplies, raising a finger to the bartender to snag his attention. If he is going to make it to the end of the evening, he’s going to need one, good drink. “And you’re Buckley.”
“Actually, it’s Evan but you can call me ‘Buck’.” His amusement must be evident because his new drinking buddy supplies the answer. “There are a surprising amount of ‘Evan’s in the Navy.”
It had never occurred to him to check how many ‘Eddie’s were in his squadron. Maybe he should ask his CO if that’s why he always called him by his full first name.
“Congratulations, by the way.” Buck looks somewhat nervous even as the words leave his mouth. “On your medal. Good job.”
“Oh.” Is all Eddie can bring himself to say as he stares into the bottom of his glass. “Thanks.”
“You don’t look too happy about it.”
He really isn’t doing a good job of hiding his emotions if this relative stranger ca read him so easily. “No, I-” he takes a deep breath to recalibrate his thoughts and paste his best fake smile. “It is a great honour.”
“Bullshit.” Buck laughs in his face but for some reason, Eddie doesn’t bristle nearly as hard as he expected. It almost feels playful. The rest of Buck’s response is cut off by his buzzing phone on the counter. The man quickly grabs it long enough to check his notifications, returning it to its place at the bar with a disappointed look.
“Are we keeping you from something?”
“Uh, no.” It’s Buck’s turn to look caught out and in need of recalibration. His expression changes much slower. “I’m just waiting for a call from my sister. I sent her an invitation to this thing but she never responded.”
Eddie has experience with family not coming to big social events like this one. Of course, in his case, he never invited them in the first place.
“Family ain’t easy.” He shrugs as he takes a long sip of whatever burning liquid he’d ordered – it really doesn’t matter so long as he can stay sitting here and not mingling with the crowds of vultures.
“It’s more than that.” Buck looks worried, and the way he bites his lip is… Eddie shouldn’t be focusing on that. “It’s just…” The man shakes his head, dismissing whatever feelings were eating at his gut. “I don’t want to bore you.”
“Please.” Eddie leans into his space with a playful smile. “It can’t be any more boring than this event. Please try to bore me to tears, if you dare.”
When Buck smiles, Eddie’s heart flutters out of his chest and sits beside him as they listen to Buck begin to speak. He tells Eddie about his sister, how she cared for him growing up, how she went away with her asshole of a boyfriend – now her deceased asshole of a husband – leaving him to fend for himself. He talks about travelling the country, trying every odd job he could get his hands on, until a buddy of his suggested he join the Navy. And he loves the work, he really does, but he hasn’t seen his sister in over a year. Their last conversation ended in a fight about some family secret that Buck is reluctant to talk about. Even Eddie can tell that the man just misses his sister. No matter what the argument was about.
Eddie finds himself talking – in less detail – about Shannon and the divorce and his son at home. At Buck’s prompting, he shows off his favourite photos of Christopher (avoiding the one burning a whole in his shirt pocket, torn and bloody, which never leaves him). The man’s face positively lights up when he sees the kid, offering an appropriate amount of sympathy for his divorce without pushing him for more emotions.
It’s easy talking to Buck, he realizes after a few hours. Because suddenly, the venue rental is nearly up and he’s still sitting at the corner of the bar, talking to Buck. Sure, a few people have passed by and shaken their hands, thanking them for their service – Eddie cringes every time and Buck has to hide his laughter once he realizes – but for the most part, it’s just the two of them, sitting and talking.
“The flag signalling we use now was established in 1855.” Buck explains as he leans further into Eddie’s space. “And while Robert Morse invented Morse Code in the 1830s, the International Morse Code that we use didn’t come out until the 1850s.”
“How do you know all of that?” Eddie was fairly certain he hadn’t had to study the history of communication when he was in training. But he’d also been very focused on his medical textbook.
Buck was incredibly cute when he blushed, Eddie decides – though he opts to keep that opinion to himself for now. “I get bored and I read.” The man shrugs nonchalantly, as though he hasn’t been entertaining Eddie with stories of Naval history and his own dumb-ass mistakes all evening. Honestly, Eddie wants to sit here all night and listen to Buck tell him stories of the world. It seems like he’s lived a lifetime already. And what has Eddie done? Gotten a girl pregnant, joined the army, gotten shot, and now he doesn’t even have a wife to go home to.
“Can I ask you something?” Eddie realizes too late that Buck looks nervous. He thinks he probably wouldn’t have said yes if he’d noticed. “How did you get your medal?”
Now he knows he doesn’t have to answer – and his initial instinct is to close out his tab and see if he can run to El Paso on his still-injured leg. But he also realizes that he hasn’t told anyone since it happened. Not the full story. Even now, he might not have the words. But he tries.
“Our helicopter got shot down while transporting wounded. I could still move so I got everyone out. Or I tried to get them out.” The echo of gunfire is not as distant as the others told him it would be. He can still smell it. “Support finally arrived and they decided to give me a medal for holding down the fort.”
Buck places a gentle hand over his and Eddie gasps, reminded that it has been a very long time since anyone has touched him. God, how he misses it.
“You saved wounded soldiers in the middle of the desert while being fired on. And you think you were just doing your job?”
“I’m an army medic.” He reasons with the bottom of his glass. “It’s my job to save people.”
“Maybe. But I don’t think that’s why you do it.” Without elaborating, Buck smiles at him and Eddie forgets the question.
“What about you?” He asks instead. “What’s yours for?”
Unlike the enthusiastic, bubbly personality he’s been talking to for the last few hours, Buck melts into the face he saw up on that stage. The stoic, professional.
“We were on our way back from an escort mission when we encountered some rough seas. I happened to be on deck with the chief mate when he had a stroke. I tried to tend to him but the storm was getting worse and no one could find the captain, so I just took over navigation. It was rough, I had no idea what I was doing, but we all made it out safely and the chief mate was okay.” As Buck shrugs, memories of an overheard conversation come flooding back to Eddie’s mind.
“Wait, were you on the USS Angelo?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Eddie can’t believe it. He has to laugh. “You were the cadet who sailed out of Hurricane Ida?”
“I am a petty officer first class, I’ll have you know.”
“Buck, you navigated a 2,000 ton ship out of a hurricane and all they gave you was a lousy medal?”
“I should get that printed on a t-shirt, or something.”
“That was incredibly reckless but also incredibly brave. Buck, you’re a hero.”
“I was just doing my job.” The smirk tells Eddie he knows exactly what he’s doing but it still hits him that he’s throwing Eddie’s words back in his face. Cute and cheeky.
He doesn’t know why he asks – well, he does, but it’s incredibly stupid and impulsive, and he definitely can’t blame it on the alcohol but he sure would like to.
“How long are you in town?”
Buck looks pleasantly surprised by his question but answers with regret in his eyes. “I head out with the Fifth Fleet in the morning.”
Wow. “You just got a medal, and you’re headed out to earn another one?”
“Something like that.” Buck laughs and Eddie wishes he was braver than he felt. “But I won’t be gone forever. And I’m really good at telegraphy if you wanted to send anyone a message.”
He’s so grateful that Buck has the good sense to be everything he needs right now. Because asking the next question is easier with someone standing next to him. “I suppose I’ll need a way to get in touch with you, then.”
Buck winks and Eddie has never been gladder that the concept of ‘standing’ was only metaphorical. The man should not be so irresistible after only a few hours, but Eddie can’t help but watch him push off his barstool and walk around the side of the bar.
“Hey, Diaz!” The spell is broken long enough for him to look across the room at where his name is being called. He waves at old friends – well, Senior Airman Han and Space Force First Sergeant Wilson are the closest things he has to old friends but in actuality, he’s not sure he knows their first names. “We’re going to the afterparty, want to join?”
On a normal night, Eddie would decline on the basis that he doesn’t want to go, and would rather lay in bed and watch reruns of ‘Murder She Wrote’. Tonight, Eddie wants to decline on the basis that he doesn’t want to go, and would rather stay up all night talking to someone who makes me feel curious about the future.
“Not tonight.” He shouts back across the room. “I’ll catch you at the next ceremony.”
They wave him off because they know it’s the same excuse he makes every single time but the only thing that matters is getting back to Buck.
“So.” He turns to the bar only to find it empty. The seat beside him is also unoccupied, as is any of the space surrounding him.
Had he dreamed up Buck? Had he been imagining this person who made him feel like divorce wasn’t his last chance at happiness? Was he truly so desperate and lonely?
“Hey.” Eddie looks up with too much hope in his eyes to only come face-to-face with the bartender. “He left this for you.” The man – who is not Buck, no matter how much Eddie hopes to see those eyes again – slides a napkin across the counter and walks away before Eddie can ask anymore questions.
He picks up the napkin and reads the blue ink-stained note written in messy scrawl.
The dots and dashes he recognizes as a series of numbers – a phone number, he hopes – but the word above? He tries to recall his academy days.
Kilo. Short for Kilogram. Used in the International Code of Symbols to represent the letter ‘K’. In Maritime Signal Flags, it indicates: I wish to communicate with you.
He’s pretty sure the bartender hates him for how late he stayed and how loudly he laughed at Buck’s note, but he can’t bring himself to care. Instead, he spends his energy memorizing the napkin’s contents long after he’s input the number. It’s more than just a piece of paper: it’s hope.
Sending you all my hugs 🥰🥰🥰😍 How about...Buddie having the time of their lives being absolute shit at arcade games.
I remember I asked for fluffy prompts the night my boss passed away. That was months ago but I did not forget. Thank you everyone who sent me prompts while I was processing some tough emotions.
911/Buddie
1v1 Co-op Matchmaking
Read on Ao3
“Are you sure this is the place?” Eddie tried to peer through one of the windows with the scratched off signage but the tinted glass made it impossible to see anything beyond vague shapes in evenly marked spaces.
“Absolutely.” Buck joined him in looking through the glass but seemed to be satisfied with what he saw there. “I found this place my first year in L.A.” He went on to explain as Eddie followed him to the blacked out double doors. “I promise you’re going to love it.”
As with most things in Eddie’s life, he had no choice but to follow his partner. He entered first, a blast of cool air hitting his face, bringing with it the scent of French fries and old pennies. Beyond the sound of whirs and buzzes was quiet chatter and the occasional exclamation of excitement or disappointment (usually accompanied by a string of barely recognizable curses – no doubt, due to the ‘No Swearing’ sign hanging on the cash register in the corner). All around him were a collection of game machines in nearly straight aisles reaching several rows down and across. Interspersed between the machines were tables and chairs with folded signs informing guests that food and drinks were not to be taken to the game machines.
“It’s an arcade.” Eddie dumbly informed his friend.
Buck stood beside him, chest puffed with pride as he examined the terrain. “One of the last in the city that hasn’t been overrun by hipsters.”
“So you’re saying you found this place before it was cool?” Eddie strolled towards the register knowing Buck would be glaring at him all the way. As predicted, Buck paid for both of them and converted twenty dollars into quarters for the two of them two split.
“Oh, this place is old school.” Eddie, once again, exclaimed the obvious while pocketing his share of the coins. “How did you find this place?” he asked as they wandered the aisles looking for their first game. “I didn’t think you would be old enough to remember ‘Ms. Pacman’.”
Buck bumped his shoulder with a playful gasp. “You are being so mean to me today.” He chided before falling more somber. “When I first moved here and started training, I needed a place to study. I had, like, six roommates so there was no way I could concentrate there. So, I wandered around looking for something a little less chaotic and I found this place.”
“And this place was quieter than your house?” Eddie hadn’t lived with roommates in a few years – not since his army days – but he couldn’t imagine one house being that overwhelming.
“No.” Buck rolled his eyes at Eddie’s internal monologue. “I ended up at the library a few blocks away. But I came here once or twice when I needed to get out of the house. Obviously, work keeps me pretty busy, but I like coming here from time to time.”
All of it made sense, but Eddie heard the softness in his friend’s tone, the way he spoke about this place as though it were something precious. He was being handed a gift and he would not turn it down.
“Thank you for sharing it with me.” When Buck looked up at his partner through long eyelashes (when did he start noticing Buck’s eyelashes?), Eddie felt goosebumps rise and wash down his body. Like awakening from a long nap, his limbs tingled and he felt every step as they continued their journey to find the perfect game.
It wasn’t the first time he felt that flash of lightning through his veins at the sight of his friend – he was a single man and his partner was very attractive – but it had been happening more often than he cared to admit. Noticing the little details of Buck’s appearance (his eyelashes, for example) was new. Feeling his heart beat faster and his skin burn with a desire he hadn’t felt in a long time…was less new. In fact, Eddie was nearly ready to put a label on the feelings stirring in his chest.
Last winter, when his sisters were visiting and the three siblings got to have a big family dinner with all the cousins and aunts and uncles, he’d spent a little too long talking about Buck. Or, maybe, Christopher had. Either way, Sophia managed to corner him in the kitchen after dessert had knocked out the majority of the children, and asked Eddie how long he’d been with Buck. Romantically. It was sometime after midnight (and a bottle of wine between the three of them) that Eddie finally admitted to both of his sisters that he had feelings for his best friend. Adriana had cooed and asked if Buck felt the same and, on some tipsy instinct, he’d answered “Yes.”
Of course, he didn’t know for certain – he’d never come out and said “Hey, Buck, I want to bend you over the railing and then grow old with you. What do you say?” – but he knew Buck. He knew Buck better than anyone (Maddie might give him a run for his money, but he’s fairly certain there’s a few stories Buck hasn’t told his sister about his time travelling the country). When that man loved, he loved with all his heart, and Eddie figured out a long time ago that Buck had given at least part of himself to the Diaz boys. Why not his heart?
So, yes, Eddie had a pretty good idea of how he felt, and was nearly certain that Buck felt the same way. And now, they were standing in an arcade – the location of which Buck hadn’t shared with anyone else in his life – occasionally making extended eye contact through the aisles. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’. It was a matter of ‘when’.
So now, when not staring longingly into his friend’s eyes, Eddie scanned the names listed above each game. Some of the names were ones he recognized (‘Frogger’, ‘Pacman’, the aforementioned ‘Ms. Pacman’, ‘Centipede’). Others, were less familiar (‘Inferno’, ‘Dig Dug’, ‘1942’) and looked…confusing. His eye caught on a ‘Space Invaders’-looking game and he called his partner to his side.
“Want to be a member of the ‘Moon Patrol’?” He bumped Buck’s shoulder with the smile he reserved just for his friend, and dug for a quarter.
“Nope!” Buck declared as he retrieved his own quarter and inserted it into the appropriate slot, bumping Eddie out of the way so he could stand centered at the controls. “I call first game!”
Though he rolled his eyes in annoyance, Eddie took the loss as an opportunity to watch his partner work. He loved watching Buck work (nearly as much as he enjoyed working beside him). There were times when the man’s focus was hypnotizing. The firm set of his jaw, the piercing eyes that seemed unblinking, the way every part of his body tensed in concentration. He’d seen Buck excited, anxious, worried, panicked, even numb – when it came to the uncontrollable dangers of their job, they had been through a lot together. Every emotion showed Eddie how much his friend cared about his work.
This expression, however, was one he doubted many other members of the Los Angeles Fire Department had seen on the young firefighter. It was one Eddie had been privy to on more than one occasion when Christopher had brought over a particularly difficult puzzle or science question. He wasn’t sure he was ever meant to see it but he happened to be standing in the doorway after putting away leftovers from dinner and he’d seen it: the desire to win, the earnest focus, the eagerness and seriousness of his intent. The first time he saw, it was an accident. Every other time he rushed to finish his chores whenever he thought that face might emerge… that was less of an accident.
He was pulled from his fond musings by a minor key jingle and light-hearted groan of disappointment.
“Only got to Point Q on the Champion Course.” Buck exclaimed, throwing his hands in defeat.
Eddie couldn’t help himself – or at least, that’s what he told himself. His partner was too genuine. But that was one of his favourite things about the man. Where Eddie could usually keep his outward appearance neutral in the face of adversity (a skill he’d used nearly every day since joining the LAFD), Buck never shied away from letting his face show just exactly what was on his mind – even if he never said anything.
And so, Eddie laughed. Only a small chuckle, but his heart never felt so light as when he was with Buck. It was easy to see, however, that his laugh could be misconstrued as mocking. Perhaps it was both.
“Think you can do better?” The newly-defeated champion bowed and offered the center position to his friend and Eddie stepped into place with another fond eyeroll (he made a mental note to ask his optometrist if too many eyerolls could cause nerve damage).
All right, Eddie thought as he tried to get a handle on the controls, so it wasn’t as easy as he thought. The joystick was rigid and the control pad was sticky and the graphics were definitely from an era long-passed. If he hadn’t been raised with an infinite amount of patience (according to his aunt), he might have given up. As it was, he died before reaching the first checkpoint.
Buck’s laughter could not be interpreted as anything other than mocking, and he didn’t bother to hide it. “You are truly terrible.” He informed Eddie with a slap on the shoulder.
Though he knew he didn’t need an excuse, it was too easy to play when Buck was around. “I’m used to the console at home. Unlike some people, I don’t spend my time playing with technology from the Reagan-era.”
“Well then let me show you.” Before Eddie could properly interpret Buck’s offer, the man had come to stand behind him, chin hovering over his shoulder, arms palming his elbows and guiding him back towards the console. “One more round.” Buck declared, enthusiastically. At his prompting, Eddie gripped the joystick and placed his hands just above the cluster of buttons on his left side. The now-familiar starting music began and Eddie focused all of his energy into game before him. Every few moments, he heard Buck mutter a command or offer advice and he took it without question. The joystick was still rigid and the buttons were still sticky but together, they made it to the second checkpoint. And then the third. By the fourth, Eddie had all but forgotten the world around them. The only things that existed were Eddie, the game, and Buck’s voice in his ear. It was soothing, almost, to fall into that rhythm. So long as he navigated the bumpy terrain and dodged the alien invasion, nothing else mattered.
Until he missed jumping over a landmine and was blown to smithereens.
“Damn!” Buck’s voice was suddenly too close. The air around him electrified on an exhale and the heat of his chest warmed Eddie to his core. As quickly as the world had fallen away in Buck’s arms, it came rushing back, more vibrant and alive than before. Every sound of electronics whirring, Buck’s steady breathing, and people shouting – even the rumble of the cars outside the arcade – was amplified. Every smell of old metal, sweat, and smoke hidden under Buck’s aftershave was overwhelming. Every touch of his scratchy jeans, the clammy plastic in his hand, and the warm presence at his back, made Eddie close his eyes to shut out one of his senses. The only one left was taste.
Buck and Eddie had held each other plenty of times over the years. They were partners and friends who worked in close contact with one another. At the end of a hard day, in the middle of a daring rescue, at the beginning of a heated glance as they stood in front of a game machine. They had shaken hands, hugged tightly, gripped for dear life at the edge of a cliff, even bumped shoulders often enough that he had a Buck-shaped indent near his heart. But standing in this loose hold – the other man’s arms barely brushing his, his back pressed against the other’s front – Eddie had never felt the overwhelming urge to taste more fervently than he did in that moment.
He knew that Buck was an attractive man – he was repressed, he wasn’t dead – and though he’d been contemplating thinking about maybe working up to taking some next step, he hadn’t counted on standing in Buck’s arms and feeling his heart flutter like a school girl with a crush.
Upon slowly dragging his eyes to meet his friend’s Eddie found himself breathlessly overtaken by the sensation of hope. Buck’s eyes were bright and round (earnest, just as he’d known them to be) His eyelashes closed and opened slowly, seemingly disbelieving of his circumstance. If Eddie knew Buck as well as he hoped he did, then there was a question in his friend’s eyes that was begging to be asked. A question Eddie was more than happy to answer.
“We make a pretty good team.” He felt his own breath reverberate off of Buck’s cheek and it stuttered in time with his heart.
“I’ve always thought so.” Buck’s lips twitched with suppressing a smile.
Then, came the moment of truth. Eddie felt a brief flicker of panic as he took one last breath before diving in.
“What should we do about it?”
In reality, Buck only contemplated his response for a few seconds but for Eddie, the silence stretched for years – three years, in fact. He felt the world move in slow motion and within it, he watched as Buck’s face flicked with a thousand emotions: fear, anxiety, excitement, contentment, desire, hope, doubt; finally, he settled on quiet happiness.
“I think we need to find a game we can play together. As partners. What do you say?”
As if there were any other response, Eddie smiled at Buck. “Partners.”
The rest of their time at the arcade was locked away, inaccessible to even Eddie, who recalled nothing more than laughter and flirtatious eye contact as they made their way through the aisles of games. At the end of the night, Eddie would get down the block before turning back to Buck’s door. He would run a nervous hand through his hair while he knocked with the other, and waited for the answer. And then, he would blush as he asked if Buck wanted to go on a date with him tomorrow. Buck would blush harder and assure Eddie that he would happily attend, but warn that he no longer kissed on the first date.
But maybe on their second date tomorrow, he’d get lucky.
Hey! I've never written a prompt before, so I don't really know what I should be suggesting, but could you do your otp having a really heartbreaking moment where they realize The Dealbreaker and they have to decide if it really is one? or if you're feeling something a bit more lighthearted, could you have one have to carry the other home (injured, drunk, or other reason) that's just kinda cute fluff?
So first I just want to say that I really appreciate this prompt. I did a call out back in November asking for writing prompts because a colleague had passed away and I needed a distraction. I got a few prompts form mutuals which is always lovely to see but I want to say thank you for reaching out even though we might not be blogs that interact all the time. You saw someone in need and you just offered to help in some small way. So yeah, I really appreciate it.
Also, of course, I feel I should apologize because you sent me this prompt in November and it is now the end of June but I'm just glad I found some time and inspiration to fill this prompt.
This is also a little angstier than I think I initially intended but I promise there is a hopeful ending because I don’t do sad endings.
Enjoy!
More Than Strong Enough to Take You With Me
9-1-1/Buddie
Read on Ao3
Some distant memory of crowded bars with sticky floors and exchanging sob stories for loud songs struck Eddie with the realization that he never expected to be in a place like this ever again. He thought his days of coming to pick up his drunken friends at whatever dive they’d found themselves in had ended the night he left El Paso. In fact, he recalls making a vow that he wouldn’t surround himself with people who drank their sorrows and caused a scene. Like so many things in his life, Evan Buckley was the exception to the rule.
“Eddie!” He spotted the man near the end of the bar, tossing one hand in what might have been a wave at some point. “You made it.”
Even through his annoyance, he couldn’t help but smile fondly at his friend’s excitement. “Hey, Buck.”
The woman behind the bar, however – a broad shouldered woman with curly hair and the patience of a broken alarm clock – was less enthused by Eddie’s entrance.
“Hey! You were supposed to call an Uber, not invite your buddy for another round.”
The former medic raised his hand in an attempt to sooth the situation. “I am his Uber. Has he closed out?”
“Yeah.” The woman waved her rag at him dismissively. “Take your boyfriend and get out of here.”
Eddie kept his face neutral, hoping – praying – Buck hadn’t heard her comment, but the gods of bad ideas were pressing heavily on the other man’s shoulders.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” He spat, even as he allowed Eddie to manhandle him to a standing position. Buck was steady enough on his feet that he could shuffle to the door but with his entire weight pressed against Eddie, it felt more like dragging a sack of potatoes across a tacky floor.
It was already just after midnight but if the journey from the door to the truck were any indication, tonight would be long. Every step had the consistency of wet sand, dragging Eddie’s companion further down and with it, his heart and patience. No matter his sympathy, no matter his fondness or loyalty for the man at his side: Buck was heavy. He was also moments away from passing out and the fact that he hadn’t said a word since they’d left the bar was more than a little concerning. He knew Buck had the capacity for long silence (for contemplation, depression, punishment, and so on) but there were a lot of things left unsaid between them. Eddie knew better than to bring them up while he was reaching over his friend to secure the seatbelt he was incapable of tightening himself. Buck should have been biting his ear off with all the things on his mind and yet, he remained silent.
He was quiet as the engine roared to life, as they drove through the streets of Los Angeles – the radio tuned to an audibly low country station and the streetlights illuminating the cabin like the mid-day sun. When they pulled up to an open spot across the street from Buck’s apartment complex, Eddie glanced over at his friend and barely withheld his sigh. Buck’s head was hung low, fairly floating above his chest as though he might fall into it at any moment. His eyes were half-open, slowly blinking. The rising of his chest was steady but faster than his medic-minded musings would like.
If he was being honest, he was surprised that Buck had called him. There was never any doubt that he would come to his friend’s aid – and Buck had to know that – and while he was relieved to know the trust between them was still intact, he found himself nonetheless surprised. After years of therapy and reassurances, he still needed to be reminded that sometimes, one argument (a hundred arguments) wouldn’t be enough to break a bond.
His first priority, however, was not to forgive or to ask for forgiveness. It was to make sure Buck was safe. However, that would involve exiting the vehicle and manhandling his friend into his apartment while enduring a silent treatment that could rival his son’s. It was worse now, as they stood in the elevator and Buck clung to the fabric at his back, when there was no more ambiance from the outside world to mask the thoughts in his head. Climbing up the stairs to the loft bedroom was no easier, hefting the man against his shoulder as they took each step together. Still: Buck said nothing.
Like the good friend he reassured himself he was, Eddie sat him on the edge of the bed, bracing his shoulders to carefully hold him upright before diving down to untie his shoes. Buck let himself be guided back onto the bed, shuffling when requested but moving no further. The frown that had been drawn on his face during the journey home had deepened into a scowl and Eddie struggled to hide his own developing grimace. His hands worked clinically to keep from shaking as he removed his friend’s pants but kept his socks on – because Buck likes to sleep with them on, his mind supplied information he hadn’t known he’d retained after all their years together. And still: Buck said nothing.
Eddie carefully pulled the duvet cover up to his waist, tucking the corners around his chest out of fatherly habit and resisted the urge to kiss his forehead for the same reason.
“Why am I not enough?” Buck’s voice was harsh and quiet from spending so long in silence but Eddie heard him nonetheless.
It was a question he sensed was coming and yet it cracked his heart as easily as though it were the first shot to begin the battle. Despite the wound, he knelt beside the bed to reach his friend’s eyelevel.
“Buck, you are more than enough, I promise.”
The firefighter slowly turned his head and the sorrow in his eyes shattered Eddie’s heart completely.
“Nothing I do is enough for anyone to stay – I’m not enough for anyone to stay.”
He clenched his fist to keep from reaching out and brushing a hand over his friend’s face. He looked so much like the scared and hopeful boy he’d heard about from Buck’s retelling of his childhood. The kid who just wanted someone to reassure him that he was loved and wanted now that his big sister was gone. He looked so young. But Buck wasn’t that kid anymore. He was grownup, now, and he was loved by so many and so much. Eddie knew all too well the demons that were making their false accusations in his friend’s head.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Buck. Because it’s not true.”
The firefighter shook his head, hair falling across his eyes as he burrowed deeper into his pillow. “Maddie left, and Abby left, and Ali, and Taylor, and now…” his voice fell away with a crack but Eddie knew who he meant. It was the reason he was in this position in the first place – for the most part, at least. Maybe Buck would remember his sadness in the daylight and maybe he would purge it with the morning tide, but right now, all Eddie knew was that his friend was hurting.
“Maddie came back, remember? She didn’t mean to leave and she came back. Your girlfriends, they left, but that’s a reflection on them not you.” Leaning against his elbows on the edge of the bed was as close as Eddie would let himself come. Any closer, and he might give in to the temptation that would only make their situation worse. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”
“I wasn’t enough for you.”
Knowing the words were coming and feeling each syllable pierce his well-crafted armor, were two very different sensations. In one, he could pretend that logic and reason were constant companions and that his answer could soothe their hearts. In this, his fingernails dug into the bedsheet, willing himself to remain stoic in the face of heartbreak.
“Of course, you’re enough for me.”
“Then why did you push me away when I tried to kiss you?”
It was a question his heart had been asking him for months. It punished his lack of answer by replaying that night over and over again. Sitting on the couch, drinking water because tomorrow would be a long day and neither could afford a hangover. At times, they sat in silence, at times Eddie spoke of nothing and everything in an effort to keep them both distracted. At times, he simply listened as Buck spoke of things that tore him apart. And then he’d leaned forward. And then Eddie had placed a gentle hand on his chest. And then Buck had gone to bed.
“Buck, your dad had just died, we were getting ready for his funeral.” The look of embarrassment and hurt on his partner’s face had been etched into his ribcage, the wounding stinging with every heartbeat. Despite his own heart’s protests, Eddie didn’t regret his actions, merely regretted the outcome. Days of uncomfortable silence, wayward eyes, and half-smiles were endurable so long as Buck knew the truth – which, apparently, he didn’t.
“When we do this, it won’t be because one of us is emotionally vulnerable, or hurting, or drunk. It will be because we’re on the same page about what we want and we’re both ready.”
For a moment, there was more silence as Buck processed Eddie’s words for what they were. It was a privilege to look into this man’s eyes and see the flicker of hope reignite in the midst of so much darkness.
“When?”
Eddie exhaled with a small smile, glad for the knowledge that Buck, through his drunk and exhausted mind, had truly heard him. In a moment of weakness, he surrendered to the urge to swipe his finger through a wayward strand of blond hair.
“Yeah, when.”
As though he’d spoken some magic spell over the man, Eddie watched Buck’s eyes as they fluttered and closed. His breath slowly steadied and evened out, and his heart seemed to settle. Still, Eddie stayed leaning against the edge of the bed, a fond smile growing on his face. He’d meant what he said – whether Buck remembered or acknowledged any of this in the morning remained to be seen, but he meant it nonetheless. What he felt for Buck, what he wanted for a relationship with him, scared the crap out of him and yet, the anticipation that bubbled in his chest was one of excitement rather than terror.
When.
It could be that Buck would wake up tomorrow and decide they were both ready to move forward together (though that was highly unlikely given the amount of alcohol he’d consumed). It could be they would never be on the same page and would continue to dance around one another for another twenty years as partners (he also doubted he would have to wait that long). He would wait, though. If Buck was it for him, then he’d wait fifty years. The smile on the other man’s face as he drifted off told him he felt the same.
However, some time in the next fifty years, Buck would awaken with a massive hangover and more than a little embarrassment about his actions. His partner’s comfort and safety was, as always, at the forefront of his thoughts. So, he quietly jogged downstairs and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, and searched the upstairs bathroom for the bottle of ibuprofen he knew was always stashed in the cupboard, and laid both on the bedside table.
For just a moment, Eddie indulged in watching Buck sleep, content to listen to the sounds of the world dampened by the noise of his friend’s snores. He remembered a time when Christopher had complained about Buck’s snoring from the couch and Buck had insisted that he hadn’t been that bad. He couldn’t wait to inform them of his own opinion and crown a victor in the eternal debate.
“Eddie?” He should have expected that the peace of the moment would be enough to pull Buck from his slumber. One thing he’d learned from a very early time in their friendship: Buck could find Eddie in a crowded room. How could he not sense him when he was so close?
“Yeah, Buck?”
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
As the man finally settled into slumber, Eddie smiled fondly and whispered: “Always.”
Chimney had one mission: get the infant to safety until they could usurp the tyrant king. It was NOT to become the king's jester, seduce the princess, and murder the advisors. Oops.
In light of last night's episode of Lone Star, I wanted to share this Buddie fic I wrote a few years ago because I feel, like, deliriously high right now.
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