No, like, imagine Iroh walking in on his mom and he sees Lin and her making out. Like, he didn’t know that they were dating, so imagine. Draw the scene if you want, your choice.
Oh, in fact I already have a fic where Iroh discovers them kissing 😂 (and also the rest of the family) but I don't know if you are referring to a younger Iroh with other circumstances though, but if you want to share your idea with me, I could do something with that 🤷🏻♀️😂
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
ok but can we all agree Izumi and Lin would genuinely give a fuck about their kids' lives as long it doesn't involve the family or the fire nation? like when their decisions wouldn't have any repercussions on it
idk. i've said Ursa hooks up with people sometimes, so imagine someone in Izumi's council finds out and gets upset because "the crown princess needs a stable relationship, looking forward to marriage. she can't just fuck around with random people" and Izumi is just like
Since the Halloween is coming the kids decided to prank the adults. They have been watching a lot of halloween movies and have a lot of ideas. May and Chris are the masterminds and after spending a little time planing they all pulled pranks at the grown ups without them knowing it was them.
Here’s the final chapter!! Thank you to everyone who read this and left me a comment or something in the tags <3 I appreciate you!
[Chapter 2 AO3 Link]
Word Count: 5883 words
Entire chapter below the cut:
“So, what’s your story?” Buck worked up the courage to ask by the fifth visit.
He’d come in every day, and every one of those days, Eddie had been on shift.
It had Buck thanking his lucky stars for the café because in the past five days, he’d written more than he had in two weeks. Plus there was just the added bonus of a sexy little barista who made a mean drink - Buck ordered the exact same thing every single day, finding out later that it had been on a menu called ‘Eddie’s Experiments.’
“My story?” Eddie tossed him a confused look as he pressed the grounds into the portafilter. “That’s an interesting question.”
Buck shrugged. “I’m a writer, I love stories. You’re clearly not from the East Coast, so I’m wondering what brought you to Grayton.”
It was only after the words left his mouth that Buck winced at how invasive they sounded. This was why he preferred to hide behind the words on his computer.
Thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem offended at all, instead choosing to laugh at the assessment. “Well, it’s not much. Couple tours in the Army, needed life to slow down, landed myself in Grayton.”
“The Army?” Buck’s eyebrows shot way up, disappearing into his hairline. That would explain a couple of things - the impressive physique and the straight body language that Eddie seemed to have even when he was casually leaning against the counter.
“Yeah,” he said shortly. Something about his tone was off, though he wasn't rude about. Buck didn’t push the matter, welcome Eddie's change of subject. “What do you write?”
“Oh um, I’m working on a series right now.”
“Do you write under a pen-name?”
“Mhm, yup.” He didn’t offer more than that; he had his own secrets. “So, is life slowing down for you here?”
“You know what? It actually is,” Eddie mused. “Texas was pretty wild for a while, and now I have time to do things that I want to without having to work three jobs to keep up. I get to take a minute or two to just breathe and observe.”
“Texas?” Buck whistled under his breath. “All the way from there, to here? That’s one hell of a journey.”
“It’s alright,” Eddie shrugged, though he looked mildly pleased with himself. “Are you from here?”
“I was born in Hershey, Pennsylvania, but I moved here maybe ten years ago?” He’d taken off after high school, on a road trip of sorts before he found this town and fell in love with it.
“Interesting,” Eddie said, sliding his cup over to him before pausing, gesturing towards the glass display with all of Karen’s infamous desserts. “Did you say you wanted something to go with that?”
Buck smacked his forehead, exasperated with his mind sometimes. “I did, I wanted cake but I forgot which ones you have today.”
“Banana, lemon and…” Eddie trailed off, sticking his head to peer into the display, “...chocolate.”
“Lemon,” he said instantly. Karen’s lemon cake was the best thing he’d ever tasted, hands down. It wasn’t too sweet, nor too sour, and had the best texture that didn’t stick to his teeth.
“Evan Buckley, is that you?” The woman in question’s voice came from behind him, mildly teasing. Buck grinned widely, jumping off his seat to pull her into a hug. “Where the hell have you been?”
“No, you don’t get to put this on me, I’ve been here every day for the past five days,” he laughed. “Just ask Eddie!”
He instantly saw the mock-anger fade in place a mischievous look that had him flustered, holding back an internal groan as Karen smirked. She reminded him exactly of her wife at that moment, because God only knew how many times Buck had been on the other end of Hen’s famous looks.
Blissfully, she didn’t say anything, moving around to greet Eddie and set her bag behind the counter. “How’s your draft going?”
Buck sighed, settling back in his chair. “I went two weeks without writing a single word, and Hen told me to come here. It’s finally coming together now.”
“My wife is a very smart woman,” Karen gave him a knowing look. “I’m totally telling her this.”
“Can I pay you to not? I’m never gonna hear the end of it,” he groaned, leading Eddie to laugh at him. Karen only shrugged, completely unsympathetic but she did him a solid when she turned to her barista.
“Why don’t you take your break, Eddie? I’ve got it for a bit.”
“Are you sure?”
Karen nodded, shooing him away from the counter. “You work too hard. Go sit with Buck or something.”
This was literally the best suggestion he’d heard. Buck could kiss Karen for it, so before Eddie had time to say no, he blurted out, “yeah, let’s go.”
Karen was still smirking behind Eddie and Buck gave her his best stink-eye slash grateful look when Eddie turned to hang up his apron, grabbing a bottle of water and two slices of lemon cake out of the display.
“You sure you don’t mind me joining you?”
“Absolutely not, I could use the company. And the cake,” Buck laughed, slipping into his side of the booth and moving his stuff away.
“How’d you start writing?” Eddie asked, wrapping nimble fingers around his bottle.
“Oh, uh I realized that I was always better with words like this. I used to write in a bunch of diaries, and I pulled them out one day and realized that some of them could be pieced together,” Buck explained, breaking off a piece of the cake. “It’s always been a hobby, but the first novel that I published did well, so I just….you know, continued on with it. I love it though, wouldn’t change it for the world.”`
“It sounds fun. I can hear you typing away all the way over there,” he teased, laughing at Buck’s affronted look.
He simply shook his head, turning the conversation back to Eddie. “How’d you get to coffee? Seems like a big switch after the Army.”
“Oh no, I worked in a shop in high school and college, way before enlisting was even on the radar. There was a café almost in a triangle between my house, high school and college, so it was the same distance for me to walk or bike. A guy named Morty had opened it, and I stumbled across the job posting because I wanted to make some cash. I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I do.”
“Well you got me liking cinnamon, so that’s something going for you.”
Eddie barked out a laugh, almost choking on his own bite of cake. “That first day, I could tell you were unsure about the whole cinnamon thing. Most people are.”
Buck’s heart stopped in his chest as a wild flush spread across his face. If Eddie had noticed that, then he’d definitely noticed whatever had been going on in his mind as he took the barista in for the first time. And he was definitely taking in his embarrassment now.
Determined to look somewhat unbothered by the keen observation skills, Buck leaned back in his chair, changing the subject to something random.
They talked all through Eddie’s break, keeping things light and breezy. Watching him walk away, Buck was struck with how many layers there truly were to Eddie Diaz.
Another bout of inspiration hit him, but this time, he started writing it all long-hand, sketching the man out in letters. He was faster on the keyboard, sure, but somehow, branding the words into paper with ink had Buck more sure of the fact that Eddie wasn’t a mirage, or a figment of his imagination, or whatever other flowery words he could find that Hen would laugh at him for.
It should’ve been scary, because he’d known Eddie for all of one week, but Buck wasn’t about to put a timeline on this. He’d see where it went, where it took him, even though he was scared shitless of what all of this meant.
Hopefully, it’d be something good.
“So, what do you think?”
“Of what?” he replied, not even looking up at Karen as she slid in next to him, continuing to write in small, neat letters as he sipped on the coffee.
“Of my new barista.”
“I think...that Hen should’ve warned me that it wasn’t you I was going to see here. Where have you been for the past five days anyway?”
“You’re not the only one that works from home,” Karen shot back. “But seriously, what do you think? You were spot on with your impression of the last one.”
“He’s a great fit here,” Buck answered honestly. “Not that I’m here to endorse your baristas, but he’s not an asshole, he isn’t a pervert and he respects people.”
“For such nice people in this town, we’ve definitely had a few rotten apples,” she shook her head looking back over to where Eddie was flitting around, easily assembling the beverages. “I lucked out with him and Zay.”
Buck wanted so badly to ask if Eddie was available, but Karen was his boss, and neither of them would cross that professional line. Besides, it wasn’t like Buck to be twisted into knots about someone; he was the confident one, the one who had an answer for everything.
For some reason, Eddie took all of that and turned him into an awkward mess that couldn’t tell his head from his tail at times. Still, he was determined to find out if he even stood a chance, no matter how long it’d take.
Karen, because she was Karen, clearly saw his mind running, because she spoke up. “You know why I named this shop Serendipity?”
“Something to do with Hen, right?”
“A little bit, yeah,” she agreed. “It’s basically...when good things happen to you even when you’re not looking for them. Hen came into my life when I wasn’t looking for her, but she changed it in ways I couldn’t imagine. I don’t think I would’ve opened this café without her. Her becoming a doctor was one of those things, too. It’s like a chain of good things that happen to you so life slips into place, even when you don’t seem them coming.”
Buck smiled at that, even though he still didn’t get her point. She rolled her eyes, leaning forward to tap the top of the legal pad. “For a writer, you can be very dense. I just mean, stop doubting that you can have good things without looking for them. I can see it on your face a mile away, but Buck, you deserve to be happy, too. So trust that.”
She left him with those words, Buck staring down at the paper where he’d unknowingly branded a single word underneath everything he’d written about Eddie before.
Serendipity.
Huh. Maybe Karen was onto something.
-------
Trailing his fingers along the cuff of James’ pants, Brandon dipped his head to place a small kiss on his ankle bone before sliding his hand up the side of James’ body to where the waistband nestled against tan skin, scraping the denim against his hypersensitive skin.
James let out a breathy groan as Brandon traveled upwards. Popping open the button on his jeans, he slid them off, leaving him in just boxer briefs.
Leaning down again, Brandon placed kisses all along James’ leg, periodically blowing cool air on the skin and lingering everywhere except where James needed him most. He tugged eagerly on Brandon’s hair but Brandon didn’t let up, smirking in amusement at his boyfriend’s impatience.
He traveled further north until he reached the soft skin of James’ inner thigh, where he suckled another hickey into existence, lighting nipping with his teeth. Moving upwards, Brandon-
“What’s that you’re reading?”
Eddie nearly jumped all the way out of his skin at the sound of Buck’s voice, face flushing bright red as he slammed the cover closed - as if the entire scene was playing right out on the pages for the whole world to see.
“Uh, just a novel,” he stammered, clutching it tightly as he stood up. “Your usual?”
Buck ignored the obvious attempt to change the subject, a light in his eyes that Eddie had usually only seen at his laptop. “Ooh, I love reading. Can I see?”
Here goes nothing .
Eddie handed the book over reluctantly, watching a strange look pass over Buck’s face. Already anticipating the teasing, he busied himself with washing his hands to prepare his coffee so Eddie could die of humiliation sooner rather than later.
“Oh, I’ve heard of this author, people say they’re good. You like them?”
He didn’t know what to do with the relief that flooded him at the lack of judgement in Buck’s voice, but it gave him the courage to start speaking, even as he studied the other man warily. “Yeah, actually. I love reading, and Zay recommended that one to me. She said she doesn’t even like romance novels but that book is one of her top picks.”
“What about you?”
Eddie hummed, adding cinnamon to the milk. “I like them a lot. They’re moving up to be one of my favourites, honestly.”
Buck arched a brow, leaning on the counter. “Oh?”
“Yup. I’m particular about the types of romance books I read because sometimes they have things that are just...weird. Problematic. Like I don’t like the ones where they romanticize the military, or jump from one thing to another, or don’t do their research about certain things.”
“Yeah I don’t like those either,” he agreed. “So what makes this one different?”
Eddie took a minute to think about it as he poured the now-frothed spiced milk, twisting his wrist with a flourish that had Buck laughing. “It’s real,” he settled on. “The characters are relatable because they aren’t perfect, but they don’t glorify things that shouldn’t be glorified, if that makes sense? This author’s writing makes the reader feel things and they can do it without using elaborate language. If this book is anything to go off of, then they’re amazing.”
Buck flipped through the copy, nodding along to the assessment. “Sounds like you have a pretty good grasp of it.”
“Nope,” Eddie laughed. “I just have a habit of thinking about the things I read.”
“It’s a great habit for a reader to have.” A moment of silence and then, “and the sex?”
Buck grinned cheekily but Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue, face burning even brighter. “What?”
The man had the audacity to laugh at his shocked look, which only made him glower in response. Buck waved it off. “A lot of romance books have sex in them. Sometimes it’s written well, and sometimes it’s just laughable with the word choices and all that. Which is it?”
“Um..I guess it’s good?” How do you even answer that question? For Eddie who’d virtually never talked about any book he’d read, let alone one with sex scenes, he was way out of his depth here. “You’d have to read it yourself.”
Buck only made a noncommittal noise in his throat, flipping the pages open until he found what he was looking for. Eddie watched his eyes scan the page, taking the distraction to study the man further. A smirk spread across his face, and Eddie realized with a jolt that Buck was reading the scene in front of him .
“It’s pretty hot. Thanks, Eddie,” Buck winked before picking the cup saucer up and walking back to his usual table. Eddie stared open-mouthed behind him before slowly reaching for the book again.
Buck was right - the scene had been hot, enough to make him flush at reading it. Definitely not something he should’ve been reading behind the bar of a coffee shop in broad daylight.
He started turning the page back to where he left off, before thinking better of it and just shoving the book back where they kept it. No way was he about to finish that scene if Buck thought it was hot.
Well...he could read another scene. He’d never get sick of this book, so he pulled it back out and flipped back to one of his favourite scenes. Brushing his fingers over a quote, Eddie snuck a look at Buck.
But then he walks into my life, and for once...I feel like I matter. Not for him, not for anyone else, but for myself.
Like he said...real.
“Actually, you know what? Surprise me this time,” Buck said one morning, grinning widely at him from over the counter. Eddie laughed but nodded, making sure he wasn’t allergic to anything before turning to the machines.
Clearly it was time to pull out one of his hidden talents: latte art.
Buck’s eyes sparked with the challenge as he tracked Eddie around the space, paying attention to everything he was doing. Eddie laughed again, throwing Buck an exasperated look. “How am I supposed to surprise you if you keep watching me?”
“I like watching you.” The portafilter nearly dropped from his hand as his head shot up to take in the light blush and impish grin on Buck’s face.
Oh, like that was it?
“Well, stow it, Buckley. Gotta keep you on your toes,” he winked, turning away so he could internally smack himself. He may have been out of this game for far too long, but he recognized an attempt to flirt when he saw one.
He still made the same drink Buck normally ordered, but he threw in a few extra ingredients - a little vanilla syrup, a sprinkle of nutmeg. Tiny things that would make a world of difference in the flavour of the drink, especially mixed with cinnamon.
The biggest change was that instead of the various leaves he managed to make with the cinnamon-frothed milk, he made a peacock instead. A couple extra twists of the wrist and a boatload of concentration later, he had a decent-looking bird staring up at him.
Well, it was nice to know that talent hadn’t gone anywhere.
Eddie set the cup in front of Buck, who laughed as he noticed the new design.
“Touché, Eddie, touché.”
He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the counter. “I changed the actual drink too, genius. Take a sip and find out.”
Buck shrugged and lifted the cup to his lips. The open anticipation and eagerness reminded Eddie vaguely of a golden retriever. It was gratifying to be appreciated in that way; normally, people swiped their cups and left without a word.
“Holy shit, what did you do to it? It tastes even better than before.”
“Vanilla and nutmeg,” he replied. Buck’s easy approval went down smoother than any drink he could make, and made him warmer, too. Clearing his throat, he turned away to take the used dishes over to the sink, hopefully hiding whatever expression was on his face.
Buck gave him a cursory good-bye as he headed to his table. Eddie ran through the other possible animals or designs he could try out later in his head - ones that his hands still knew how to make.
So over the course of the next two weeks, they went through a plethora of them. Eddie really only did the designs with Buck, just because he knew Buck wouldn’t flip out on him if the design didn’t really look like anything.
Worst case scenario was the bear that ended up looking more like a blob of nothing. It took a few days to get that one right, but he’d managed it.
So far they’d tried a seahorse, a ghost, an elephant, a swan, some random designs of branches, an ambitious sunset, a panda, some breed of dog and a cat that ended up looking more rat-like than anything else.
“What haven’t we tried yet?” Buck asked.
“Are you sure you want a second cup right now, in the first place?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, swiping at the counter right in front of Buck’s folded arms. He never ordered anything after 12; at least, nothing caffeinated. In fact, he was here later than he usually was, which was strange on its own.
“I didn’t say I was going to drink it,” he defended.
“Then I’m not gonna make it. At this point, I think we’ve tried everything I know and remember how to do.” He thought about it for a second. “What if we used food coloring?”
Buck’s eyes lit up. “A blue swan.”
Eddie laughed at that. “I was kidding. Any amount of food coloring is probably going to stain your face. You’ll turn into a smurf.”
“Blue’s my color, Eddie. You just don’t know,” he insisted, eyes alight with mischief.
There it was again - the shift from their easy banter to that playful flirtatiousness. Eddie wondered if that energy between them just thrummed beneath the surface, surfacing at random times meant to catch him off-guard.
“I’m sure it is, Buck, but even you can’t pull the blue stains off.”
Buck laughed at the quip, turning in his seat at the sound of the bell. Eddie looked past him to find three familiar boys. He chuckled, setting the cup he was wiping down back in its spot as Christopher, Denny and Harry stumbled in, chattering excitedly among themselves.
“Dad!” Christopher yelled out, bringing a wider smile to his face immediately. Eddie walked around the counter to haul his son into a bear hug.
Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice Buck’s stricken look at the way Chris addressed him.
Denny and Harry noticed the man sitting on the bar stools in front of the counter, and made a beeline to him immediately.
“Buck! You know I beat Mom in that game you showed me,” Denny started gleefully, going on and on about how he’d beaten Karen multiple times. Buck laughed and ruffled his hair, turning to ask Harry a question about his stepdad, Bobby.
Eddie watched him interact with the two boys, his arms still around his own son. He hadn’t realized just how much Buck was integrated in this small town, though he’d known of his and Karen’s closeness. Clearly that closeness extended towards the kids too.
“Who’s that, Dad?” Christopher asked. The words caught Buck’s attention, because he grinned at the two of them. Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and led Christopher over.
“Oh, right, let me introduce you. Buck, this is my son, Christopher. Chris, this is Buck.”
“Hi, Buck!” Ever the people person, Christopher immediately started a full conversation with the man, Buck holding his own against the onslaught of questions from the curious child. Eddie was reeling a little bit at how quickly they seemed to have clicked, Buck just as engrossed in Christopher's questions. It was something he didn't normally see, an adult talking so enthusiastically with a child.
“Eddie, can we have our hot chocolate now?” Harry asked, breaking him from his stupor.
“Yup. Take this with you, Karen made it for you guys.” He pulled out a tray of sandwiches from the cooler and passed it to Denny. “I’ll drop your drinks off.”
The boys rushed off immediately, pacified at the fact that they didn’t have to do any work. He turned to Buck who was watching him critically.
“Is that Chris’ birthday on your wrist?” he asked.
Eddie laughed, extending his left arm. “Yeah. You didn’t know about Christopher? You seemed surprised that I have a son.”
He held his breath as Buck brushed hesitant fingers over the numbers, nestled as they were against his pulse. He wondered if Buck could feel his heartbeat pick up and race at the gentle action.
“You only mentioned him a few times by name, and never by calling him your son. I just assumed that he was your brother or something,” Buck replied, dropping his hand and looking past him at Chris.
“Nah, just two sisters. One older and one younger. But yeah, Chris is my world.” He hesitated a little, staring down at where he was using two-percent milk to make the kids’ hot chocolate. “His mother’s not in the picture. We got divorced before Chris and I moved to Grayton.”
He looked back up at Buck, a little taken aback by the relief in the other man’s face.
Suddenly he was struck with how this would’ve seemed for a son to randomly show up - Buck must’ve thought he was married. For all their flirtations over the past few weeks, the possibility would’ve thrown him off.
The thought had a little hope flaring in him. Buck was just so inherently good . If he was relieved that Eddie was single...maybe he actually had a chance here.
Eddie realized a little too late that the silence had stretched too thin. An air of awkwardness settled between them.
“You and Chris seemed to get along,” Eddie changed the subject. Buck perked up, turning towards him with a blinding smile that broke whatever weird limbo they’d found themselves in.
“Oh I-uh...I love kids,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "My sister, Maddie and her husband Chimney have a daughter, but they live an hour away, so I don't get to see them as often as I like. Michael, Harry's dad, was the contractor on my house which is how I met the Grant kids. And obviously, Hen's my closest friend.”
Eddie smiled at the image. “It’s a good quality to have. Before Chris, I didn’t know how to talk to children at all. I was the awkward uncle.” Eddie topped the drinks off with whipped cream. “Give me a second.”
He dropped the three mugs off with the kids who were now making airplanes out of their sandwiches. Then, thinking better of it, he went back to drop off napkins, too. Buck laughed at him for that. “Okay, you being a dad makes so much sense now.”
“Because I wanted to prevent a sandwich disaster?” he teased, completely relieved that being a single dad didn’t send his friend running.
“Nah, the dad instinct,” he joked. “Wanting to be prepared for every outcome.”
Eddie sighed. “Too many accidents seen. Juice spills, vegetable stuck under tables, greasy handprints all over the place, crumbs. And I have another outcome for you - you’re going to have to get up, because May’s about to get her calculus tutoring.” He pointed toward where the girl was coming in.
Buck whistled under his breath. “Damn, Eddie! Barista, hot dad, adorable kid and a math whiz? You’ve got everything working for you. You’re giving me a complex. Imposter syndrome or something.”
Eddie’s mind screeched to a halt at Buck’s dramatic lamenting that was somehow complimentary. Before he could even think up an appropriate response, Buck was moving past him to say goodbye to the kids, ruffling May's hair on the way out.
“Bye, Eddie,” he grinned as he walked past the counter. Eddie managed to strangle out some resemblance of a laugh and wave as he left, feeling like an awkward teenager fumbling with his crush.
“He’s got the hots for you,” May said off the bat, plopping her bag down on Buck’s vacated seat. The man had just called him ‘hot dad’ so clearly she was right - not that he’d admit it.
“‘Hots for you?’ Is that something kids these days actually say?” Eddie asked skeptically as he flipped the blender on for her drink.
“ So not the point,” she muttered, pulling her notebook out. “Point is, ask him out, you two reek of tension and you're both embarrassing yourself.”
It was kind of pathetic to be getting love advice from a teenager, but May was also one of the brightest people he knew regardless of her age. She was probably one of the only teenagers he’d heed advice from.
“We do not,” he said lamely, face hot at the thought. May rolled her eyes but extended a math worksheet his way, blissfully ending the conversation.
Even as he started teaching her second and third derivatives of a given function, his mind raced with potential ways to maybe ask Buck out. He hadn’t asked anyone out in close to what had to be eight or nine years now, but he knew enough about the man to realize that Buck would probably like someone showing him they appreciated him.
A lightbulb went off in his mind as he noted down the derivative formulae on a sticky-note for May.
Hm...for a romantic like Buck, that would be interesting.
------
The pack of sticky notes that he bought were pretty subdued. They weren’t purple like May’s, or bright-green or cobalt-blue like the ones he’d seen Buck scribble on.
These were a plain pale-yellow, standard and nondescript. He could hide them in his apron, and one would have to look pretty closely to garner a look.
Eddie had seen a lot of videos of people who wrote cute notes on the side of paper takeout cups, covering the words with the sleeve to stop anyone else from reading them. He obviously couldn’t do that with the ceramic mugs, so he had to improvise a little.
Sticky notes should be enough, hopefully.
It still took him two days to make sure that he wanted to risk this.
The first day that he set his resolve, Buck waltzed in wearing a blue, short-sleeved button down that hugged his biceps and tapered down his body to black jeans. So there went the first note, scribbled hastily while Buck got his laptop set up at his regular booth.
Blue really is your color.
Eddie folded the square carefully into fourths, just small enough to tuck underneath the ceramic mug. It was difficult to do that and maintain a conversation about airplane dynamics with him, but he managed it.
That first day, he couldn’t even look up to garner Buck’s reaction. He kept his back to the man the whole time, afraid of what would show on his face if he snuck a look. That wasn’t to say that he couldn’t feel Buck’s eyes on him; he just didn’t meet them.
The second and third days were similar. One for how adorable Buck looked when he worked and another when Eddie noticed balls of crumpled paper littering the table, Buck scribbling furiously behind them.
You’re cute when you’re concentrating :P
You’ll find the words.
Eddie folded the papers up, slipped them quietly underneath the cup before Buck came to order, and passed it off to him. He still didn’t look at him at all, too afraid of his armor being obliterated with one look.
Zay and Karen had picked up on it immediately. “You know you need to actually look at him?” Zay had said, Karen humming her agreement inconspicuously in the back.
“No, I don’t,” he’d replied.
It was the fourth day that curiosity got the better of him, as it always did. Buck didn’t bring the notes up at all - not as he ordered, not as they chatted across the bar, not as he said goodbye. So, neither did Eddie. Still, he had to know.
For this fourth note, he wrote I know this is going off on a tangent, but what's your sine, cos I want to know.
It was a math joke, and Eddie prayed it didn’t sound too awkward as he filled the cup with Buck’s regular drink, handing it off to him with a smile. Then, he positioned himself the same way he had that very first day, where he could see Buck through his peripheral vision without making it too obvious.
Buck bypassed the first sip of his drink, immediately lifting the cup to find the folded square. Eddie was taken aback by the wide grin on his face and the sound of his laughter, but relief pounded into him, hard and unyielding.
Even more gratifying, Buck tucked the new note into his laptop bag.
So Eddie continued with them. They weren’t always math pick-up lines or compliments; sometimes he threw in one of Christopher’s favourite jokes or some little quote he liked, or whatever other random thing popped into mind. Still, there was never a response specifically about them, which only confused him further.
“I’ve already started doing it, why would I stop now?” he told Zay on the seventh day.
“He’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat and he looks adorable, so whatever you’re doing, don’t stop,” she said, peeking over his shoulder at the other man. Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled, happy that Buck didn’t seem put-off by them.
It took two weeks for him to get a reply.
“See you tomorrow, Eddie,” Buck called out as Eddie rifled through the pantry.
“Yeah, bye Buck!”
He thought that was the end of it for the day, but when he finally pulled his head out of the closet, he noticed a spiral-bound book sitting on the counter, a familiar green sticky-note on top. He pulled the note off the cover to find what looked like a first manuscript of E.B. Stark’s new book.
It hit him then.
E.B. Stark.
Evan Buckley Stark.
“Fuck,” Eddie whispered under his breath, closing his eyes as the embarrassment washed over him. That had been the strange look on his face that day. Eddie had complimented the writer in front of him. He’d read a freaking sex scene from one of Buck’s books right in front of him.
The ground could swallow him right about now.
Still, once Eddie worked himself past the initial mortification, it was also pretty amazing. He’d watched Buck craft this new book and had been a fan of his without even knowing. Buck was amazing at his art, leaving imprints on everyone who read it, and getting to know both the writer and the person added a duality to this new thing between them.
Whooshing out a breath, he glanced at the sticky note.
Sorry I didn’t reply, I was waiting to finish this.
It might not be as good as yours, but can I buy you coffee?
Underneath that were scrawled ten digits that had Eddie grinning widely, pumping his fist in the air and doing a little victory jig.
He grabbed his phone immediately, texting the number.
Eddie: Yes
Buck: Look up
He furrowed his brow but glanced up to find Buck grinning at him through the glass. Which meant that the man had seen his happy dance, and had seen the stupid smile on his face and whatever other self-incriminating behaviour was going on out here.
May was right - they were embarrassing
He rolled his eyes but typed out a response.
Eddie: I can’t be any more mortified and humiliated than I already am, you know. Why didn’t you tell me you were the author?
Buck: It was more fun this way. No need to be embarrassed.
Buck: It was adorable.
Buck: Friday at 2? Before Chris gets back from school?
Eddie ignored the previous text while running through his schedule in his head. Chris wouldn’t get back until 4, and Friday meant that Zay or Karen would be here. He'd be free.
Sending one more smile Buck’s way through the glass doors of Serendipity, Eddie shot off one last text.
Fire Lord Izumi hcs bc she deserves more love and i lack of self control
with a splash of linzumi. idk what to tell u i mean that was obvious
boss bitch
but also a ridiculously adorable nerd
Izumi is buff. i don't make the rules
very much into plants, to the point she has her own greenhouse sort of like Cordelia's in Coven, where she goes when she need time alone
she has always knives with her
Izumi is openly bisexual. she refuses to make it her main treat as public figure, but she doesn't make an effort to hide it and she's become an icon
Bumi is her bro, Kya her ride-or-die bitch, and Lin is her wife
has zero resistance to alcohol. she gets drunk really fast
Izumi used to wear crop-tops when she was young
she has worn glasses since she was a child, and when she was a teen, she wore contacts
Izumi doesn't like the fact that Iroh is in the UF, she's very proud of him, considering all he's achieved being so young, but if it was up to her he would've stayed in the FN
one of the reasons why she doesn't like him being in the UF is because he never told her he was joining, he just went and did it, which of course led to a big argument
Izumi (somehow) can crack her bones like hell. im talking neck, back, wrists, fingers, knees and shoulders
she has the habit to play with a knife between her fingers when she's bored and then throw it into the wall when stops so the walls at the palace have multiple cuts and holes bc of Izumi's knives...
at difference of what a lot of people might think, Izumi falls in love easily and hard, but she fears it too
a workaholic with out repair. Zuko's mandate left the bar pretty high for her, and she was taught to live for her nation, so naturally she dedicates hours and hours to work and won't stop until someone forces her for real or the stress gets her sick. one out of two
high-heel boots its her main footwear and she looks very good in them
her grandmother, Ursa, got her into theater, so now she takes every year the Firekids with her to watch the plays in ember island sometimes against their will. And Lin goes too, but that's just bc she can't say no to her wife
Lin won't admit it but one of the things that makes her the happiest is when the Firekids, after they grow up, go visit her just because they wanted to
(for her) its like a reminder that they don't hate her :)
