Hey!! I’d just like to thank you guys so much for all the support that you guys have been showing towards my last fic!!! I’m already writing a second part so don’t worry hahaha. Also, on the comments some of you asked about a taglist, and I don’t have one yet, so if you want to be included pls just comment here and I’ll tag u in my future works!! <3
Can you write a fic where Lena Luthor is sick on a mission ?
🥹
Please…
hello there!! sorry about it, but currently I only write for the marvel girls… however I’m sure @somber-sapphic or @goldenempyrean could write it? they’re both super talented and write for supergirl characters!!
sometimes, Buck wakes up in the middle of the night.
he's drenched in cold sweat and has to choke out a gasp around a mouth full of bile, the stench of dirt in his nose and the taste of mud and sweat heavy on his tongue.
on nights when he's truly alone - when Chris is with Carla, or Denny, anywhere Buck knows he'll be safe - he wakes up screaming. it's nothing intelligible, just a guttural sound (it might have been Eddie's name once upon a time) that rips through his throat as tears soak his sheets but whatever it is, it's the closest thing Buck will ever get to 'I love you'.
when he thinks about that he wants to scream again.
sometimes, staying awake is as bad as being asleep.
he starts counting his fingers at the station, a trick he picked up from some bad TV show. he says it's just a way to focus, or ground himself, and that's not entirely a lie, but really he just wants to check to see if he's awake or if this is all just some terrible, terrible fucking dream.
he used to hope for one or the other. now he's not sure which would be worse.
he tries to distract himself, but he only ever gets halfway. he could be a punchline away from the end of a story that has Hen and Chim doubled over, and he'll instinctively turn his head to see if Eddie's laughing at him or rolling his eyes or doing that thing where he tries to hide his smile behind his hand.
by the time he realizes what he's doing, he's usually forgotten the end of his story anyway.
sometimes he wants to quit.
these are the darkest times of all. through everything that LA had thrown at him, come hell or high water (come lawsuit or tsunami, Eddie jokes used to joke), the 118 was the one constant in his life, but now?
now Buck takes sick days and personal days and bereavement days and people encourage it. they tell him to take time, all the time he needs, and no one comes barging into his apartment to pull him out of bed.
instead, people ask how he's doing and how Chris is doing and if he's talking to anyone and Buck can't find the words to say his heart has been fucking carved out of his chest and 'good days' are when he feels numb and how Chris deserves his dad, his real dad, not the human husk Buck has turned into.
he can't find a way to say how fucking badly he wishes that he was the one buried sixty feet under with a drill and a mudslide instead of the love of his life (realized far too late)
so instead Buck lies.
he lies and Eddie would be so fucking mad at him -
but that doesn't matter anymore because Eddie is gone
talk to me about king christopher, intentionally or not, helping his two dads figure out they’re in love with each other 🤗 xoxo
cailee, you beautiful wonderful tropical fish, did you know you had a direct line to my soul with asks like this?
There was a very, very good reason that whenever anyone asked Edmundo Diaz about his son, the first word that he used to describe Chris was ‘smart’.
Chris was a caring boy, a kind boy, a kid who had known loss and grief in his life, more than any child should. He had survived earthquakes, tsunamis, surgeries, death, and that had shaped him into a kid that was incredibly sweet, empathetic, but most of all, smart.
Eddie knew it, of course; he was incredibly proud of his son, of the work he did in school, of the friends he made, of the person that he was growing into. Chris was bright, and he was bubbly, and he was whip quick in a way that Eddie sincerely wished he could be an adult, let alone as a kid—but that wit usually came as a double edged sword.
Because as proud as Eddie was of his son, Chris had a knack of thinking circles around everyone, himself included.
Eddie knew when he was being played for extra video game time, and knew damn well when Chris batted his eyes for a sick day from school, but Eddie figured that was about as far as things went. As far as Eddie was concerned, as long as his grades stayed up and he stayed happy with his friends, a little special treatment wouldn’t hurt.
So it only made sense that when Chris decided to wield his powers for good where his father was concerned, Eddie had no idea what was coming.
“Dad, can we go over to Buck’s house to play some video games tonight?”
Eddie smiled, watching Chris tilt his cell phone to get through whatever game he was playing in the rear view mirror as they made the trek home from Abuela’s. He had to admit, while the best possible thing that had come out of him joining the 118 was the easy friendship that he found with Buck, the easy friendship that Chris and Buck seemed to have made was a close second.
“I dunno buddy, Buck might already have dinner plans. Besides, you know it’s rude for us to invite ourselves over.” Eddie said, catching Chris’ eye in at a stoplight. He was thankful for their friendship, of course, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel a little guilty about monopolizing all of Buck’s time when they were both off the clock.
The look Chris gave him was thoroughly unimpressed as he held up Eddie’s phone, speaking like it was actually paining him to have to explain himself. “Dad, Buck was the one who asked. He says we should bring over pizza!”
...okay, Eddie might have felt bad about being attached to Buck at the hip, but that didn’t mean he was about to deny himself the pleasure when Buck was the one to initiate some time together. And Eddie definitely wasn’t going to say no when he knew that Chris was looking forward to spending time with Buck just as much as Eddie was.
Even if Eddie knew he enjoyed Buck’s company for entirely different reasons.
“Hey, thanks for having us over.” Eddie said softly, once pizza had been devoured, and Buck had his ass thoroughly kicked (With Chris, Buck definitely threw his matches—but with Eddie, well, there was no denying the cry of defeat whenever Eddie skimmed past him into first). “Chris loves spending time with you, you make his night whenever he gets to see you.”
Buck grinned back at him, that easy smile that made Eddie’s heart do things he didn’t care to identify as he shrugged his shoulders. “You know I love spending some time with my Diaz boys. This was definitely one of your better ideas.” he said easily, clearing the table, sliding the pizza box into the fridge.
Eddie opened his mouth to respond, pausing before any words could come out, a curious look crossing his face. He reached around Buck and grabbed two beers, handing one to Buck after he cracked them open. “You mean, thanks for the pizza. This was your idea, after all.”
It was Buck’s turn to look confused, swallowing a mouthful of beer as he pulled his phone out. “No, Eddie, pretty sure you sending me a message that said ‘game night, we’ll bring pizza’ was pretty clear.”
Eddie blinked as he looked at Buck’s phone—sure enough, the message was there plain as day, and he shot a curious look over to Chris, who was conked out on the couch. Buck followed his gaze, chuckling when he put two and two together, shaking his head. “Hey, go easy on him... after all, it’s not like I had any other plans.”
“Buck...”
“No, I’m serious.” Buck said, his face holding that soft, sweet grin. “After all, it’s... well, I like spending time with you. With, um, both of you I mean.” he murmured over the mouth of his beer bottle, pink raising in his cheeks as Eddie took a swig of his own. He didn’t trust himself to respond and instead linked his ankle with Buck’s beneath the table, trusting the gesture would say enough—and judging by the grin Buck shot him, the message was received loud and clear.
Unseen to either of them, Chris had a small smile on his face, peeking through his lashes as he watched the two from his space on the couch.
--
In retrospect, Buck probably should have asked what all was entailed in Career Day when Chris asked he and Eddie to show up to his school at 9am.
All he had expected was that he and Eddie would get to show the kids some of their tools, some of their gear, and then answer some questions. What he got was a room full of single moms (and dads) that were looking at Eddie like he was good enough to eat.
Which, let’s be real, Eddie was. Especially when he was partially suited up, PPE from the waist down, a 118 tee shirt, and the thick red suspenders to hold everything together. Saying he looked delicious was selling it short, but that didn’t mean Buck liked a room full of strangers being so blatant about it.
It was all he could do to stand back and not cause a scene as yet another mom walked up to Eddie and put her hand on his bicep, laughing at a joke far too loudly, for far too long. The only saving grace was the look that Eddie shot him while she had her head tossed back, rolling his eyes so hard that Buck thought he was going to hurt himself.
As Chris took his turn and made it up to the front of the class, Buck couldn’t deny feeling a little bit self conscious as he stood beside Eddie.
A room full of parents, with their kids, and then Buck.
He wasn’t jealous, okay?
And even if he was—
“This is my Dad, and this is my Buck! They’re firefighters!”
—Chris knocked that feeling out of him, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as Chris started his presentation. A quick look at Eddie confirmed that he wasn’t the only one who caught the title, and he dipped his head with a little smile, not bothering to hide how pleased he was.
Pleased because he got to be Chris’ Buck. Not pleased because of the disappointed looks that he could see flicker across half of the single parents faces. Nope, that had nothing to do with it, and if it did, it was no secret that Chris was the real source of his joy.
“...they use their trucks and ladders to help keep us safe...”
Chris being an awesome kid was no surprise—Eddie was a great dad, okay?—but Buck still felt lucky that he got to see such a bright kid in his element like this, and even luckier that he got to help out whenever he could. He let his mind wander as Chris continued to speak, treading into dangerous territory. Chris had called him his Buck, so easily, like it was obvious, and for a moment Buck let himself wonder what it would sound like for Eddie to say the same.
“...and they’re super strong, too!”
Chris turned around, looking directly at Eddie, and Buck had to swallow a snort of a laugh as every eye in the room followed him. Eddie, to his credit, tried to save face, nodding his head. “Uh, we... workout every day?” he said, and Chris giggled as he looked over to Buck.
“Dad, you have to show them! Lift Buck up!”
Now it was Buck’s turn to feel every eye swivel over to him, and he was sure his face was bright red in record time. Was this part of the presentation? Did Chris mention this? Buck couldn’t be sure, but honestly, it didn’t exactly sound like something he would have agreed to. He caught Eddie’s eye and shrugged helplessly—after all, Eddie would be the one doing the heavy lifting, it was kind of out of his hands.
After a shared, barely-there nod, Eddie clapped his hands together, turning back to the class. “So, uh, this is called a fireman’s lift. It’s what we do when we have to carry someone out of a burning building, if they can’t walk out on their own. What we do is—“
“Have you ever had to do it before?” A blonde boy asked from the second row, his hand straight up in the air, eyes wide. His father, a corporate manager, didn’t look entirely pleased.
Eddie was all smiles, though, as he nodded and looked over to Buck. “We both have. Our job is to keep people safe, and this is the easiest way to do it.”
The clear hero worship may have helped Eddie become a little more comfortable, but for Buck, the situation didn’t matter—acting as a dead weight was always going to be a little weird. He sighed and opened his arms as Eddie stepped forward, and he was in the air before he could blink. He twisted his body as Eddie lifted so he could still face the class, focusing on Chris’ smile as his world went sideways.
If Buck thought it was awkward before, the dead silence that met him when Eddie spun around with Buck on his shoulders was completely deafening. It was all Buck could do to focus on keeping himself right side up, and not focus on the firm line of Eddie’s shoulders against his side, his strong hands on Buck’s thigh and wrapped around his arm—and thankfully Buck didn’t have long to follow that train of thought before there were twenty kids cheering for them, clapping wildly.
Okay, note to self; if you want to impress a room full of nine year olds, you just had to lift something heavy up.
Buck found himself smiling again, cheeks feeling permanently pink as Eddie brought him back down to the ground, turning to answer a few questions as they were swarmed with tiny bodies. He loved kids, he always had, and he was definitely in his element—but he couldn’t get the thought of Eddie’s hand on his thigh out of his mind.
He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse when the weight of Eddie’s arm looped around his waist, effectively anchoring him and sending him into another galaxy as Chris’ teacher took a picture of the three of them together.
As Buck leaned into Eddie’s touch, he couldn’t help but look down to Chris, who very much looked like the cat that got the canary—and Buck was content to assume that it was because he obviously had the coolest Career Day presentation.
After all, getting your Dad to deadlift your Buck certainly blew any investment bankers or realty agents out of the water.
--
“You know, if you actually want to watch a movie, you have to press play on the remote.”
“Shove it, Eds.”
His words were snippy, but Buck was all smiles as Eddie joined him in the loft, plate in hand, passing Buck a burger and a huge plate of chips as he crashed on the couch beside him. Buck had been listening to the menu theme of some action DVD that Chim had picked out for the better part of a half hour as he scrolled through his phone, his attention quickly pulled to the food. “What’s wrong, Bobby kick you off the grill again? Made you realize there was more to life than being a meathead?” Buck said with a teasing smile, and Eddie found himself laughing in spite of himself.
“Well, actually, Carla sent me a few pictures of Chris on his class trip to the zoo today, and I was going to show you, but...”
“Hey, no, what? I think it’s awesome that you’re a middle aged grill dad, you look great with that spatula, now show me the pictures!” Buck said, immediately back tracking, his pride an easy thing to swallow whenever Chris being adorable was involved.
Eddie snorted as he handed over his phone, letting Buck swipe through the photos, and if he happened to be looking at Buck more than he was looking at the photos, well that was his own business. Buck, mercifully, was plenty distracted—the sight of Chris and a peacock would do that to anyone, Eddie had already set it as his wallpaper.
“Eddie, your kid is so fucking cute.” Buck said as he looked back up at Eddie, smiling as he tapped at Eddie’s screen, undoubtedly forwarding a few of the images to his own phone. Buck’s phone was only second to Eddie’s when it came to cute pictures of Chris, and if Eddie had more than three brain cells bouncing around in his skull, he probably would have looked a little more deeply into that.
Eddie pulled his phone back as another message came through, eyes flickering over the text message as Buck took a huge bite of the burger Eddie brought him.
“Hey Buck?”
“Mmmphhgghh?”
“Say cheese.”
“Ehh, muhnuie!”
The picture was pretty disgusting, honestly—Buck had a mouth fit to bursting of burger, sauce and ketchup smeared over his cheek, eyes wide as he turned to the camera. “What? Chris wanted to see what we were doing today.” Eddie said innocently, saving the picture to his camera roll before sending it to Carla’s phone.
“Dad I need selfies of you and Buck!”
The message from Carla came through easy enough, though it was clear that Chris had taken over, and Eddie was still laughing at Buck when he read the message aloud. Buck’s scandalized look didn’t go away as he finally swallowed, and Eddie knew he was in trouble the moment Buck reached for his phone, ready for retaliation.
He couldn’t complain when he suddenly had an arm full of Buck, laughing easily as Buck fired up his selfie camera, but his laughter quickly turned into a sound of absolute horror as he felt ketchup against his cheek when Buck smushed their faces together, camera shutter firing rapidly.
“You are disgusting!” Eddie finally got out between laughs, shoving Buck aside, who looked all too pleased with himself as he furiously tapped at Eddie’s phone, undoubtedly sending the pictures to Carla (and probably Maddie, and Abuela, and maybe his own phone too).
He had to admit, when he finally got his phone back and looked over the pictures, he was a little uncomfortable—not because of the content, but because he had never known he was so fucking obvious when he was looking at Buck. He hadn’t understood the term heart eyes until now, and it kicked his anxiety up just a little bit—he needed to work on his subtlety.
Then again, the next time he caught a glimpse of Buck’s phone, he was stunned to see that the picture of the two of them had made Buck’s wallpaper...
...maybe Chris was on to something with the whole selfies idea.
--
“Hey Buck?”
“What’s up, bud?”
They had just finished what Buck would not hesitate to call one of the best nights of his life—Eddie and Chris had shown up with a truck packed full of food, blankets, chairs, and a huge, colorful umbrella. Buck had worried that Chris would be less than thrilled to be near the ocean after the tsunami, but his fears were completely misplaced—Chris took to the beach like a crab, and Buck’s heart felt lighter than it ever had every time he heard Chris’ laughter, getting to the point where he actually deleted a few apps from his phone to take some more photos.
The icing on the cake, though, was Chris insisting that Buck could read him his bedtime story that night. Eddie looked completely betrayed, even as he insisted it was fine.
It was fucking hilarious.
“You love me, right?”
Buck felt his brows raise into his hairline, closing the book as he nudged Chris’ shoulders. “Course I love you, buddy. You’re my favorite little man.” He said softly, the initial spike of concern easing in his heart when he watched Chris break out into a grin. He should have known it was a trap, but Chris was so cute, so unassuming, so—
“And you love Daddy too, right?”
—so damn sneaky.
Buck swallowed once he regained his bearings, nodding his head, glad for the dim light of Chris’ room to hide his blush. “Course I do kiddo. You and your dad are both very important to me.”
Which, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, if the scrunch of Chris’ face was anything to go by.
“But you love him too, right? You love me and Daddy?”
Putting the long forgotten book down on the night table beside Chris’ bed, Buck pulled his arm around the kid easily, pressing a kiss to his mess of curly hair. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that would come out was the truth. “Yeah, I love you and I love your dad too.” he murmured. It was the first time he had ever said that aloud before—and even as he felt his heart race, he felt lighter, to be able to get that off his chest, a secret that had been heavy on his heart for a long time.
“You should tell him that.”
Buck almost swallowed his tongue. Like he could sense his discomfort, Chris looked up, blinking owlishly without his glasses, a small smile on his lips. “It makes me happy when you tell me you love me. I bet it would make Daddy happy too.” he said with a little shrug, and Buck actually surprised himself with a little laugh.
“How did you get so smart, kid?”
Another kiss goodnight and Buck had the door shut behind him, walking on the balls of his feet as he returned to the kitchen, where Eddie was still scrubbing at a dish—and if that wasn’t enough of a red flag, the red tint to his cheeks and the way he shyly looked up at Buck told him all he needed to know. Shy was just not a typical look for Eddie.
“Edmundo Diaz, were you eavesdropping on your sons bedtime story?” Buck asked, his voice light and teasing, even as his face heated up. If Eddie had been listening in, there was no way to tell just how much he had heard, but while the thought usually pushed Buck into a spiral of despair, all he felt now was a strange sense of warmth.
Eddie looked up at him cautiously, chewing his lip. “What? It’s not my fault, I had to make sure the story you picked was up to his standards, and that you... did all the voices, and—“
“I meant it.”
Wow, fuck, Buck just blurted that out. He felt his jaw clamp shut as Eddie’s gaze snapped to him, Eddie’s eyes as wide as his own.
“Buck...”
“I’m serious, Eddie. I meant it, I... I mean it.” Buck’s feet are moving of his own accord, closing the distance between them until Buck could reach out and touch Eddie if he wanted. Well, if he could get his arms to respond. “You and Chris, you’re the most important people in the world to me, and... and I do, I love you. And I think, I think you love me too.”
Eddie couldn’t think, couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything other than move forward and pull Buck into his space completely. Their first kiss was a little rough—bumped noses, off center, but even then Eddie could feel fireworks—and when they reconnected, when Buck’s lips met his properly, it was all Eddie could do to remain upright.
He kept his hands around Buck when they pulled back to breathe, their foreheads resting against one another, and Eddie’s cheeks were literally hurting he was smiling so hard. Buck’s little laugh was all Eddie could hear, all he ever wanted to hear for the rest of his life—so he couldn’t be blamed for failing to hear a pair of little feet leaving the kitchen, back through the hallway, or the nearly silent closing of Chris’ bedroom door.
Chris didn’t need to stick around to see the end result—adults were so gross—but he was pleased enough to see that his hard work and careful planning had paid off, knowing that his dad and his Buck would be happier than ever now that they were finally smooching (even if it had taken forever!).
His dads were a little slow on the uptake sometimes, sure, but that was okay.
After all, Chris would be there to give them a little push whenever they needed.
prompt: buck hears eddie talking about him over the car's bluetooth speaker (or the other way around!)
sang so loud, sang so clear on AO3 (2.4k)
It was safe to say that there was no part of his job that Eddie didn’t like. He loved being part of the community. He loved being able to make a positive change in the worst moments of someone’s life. Hell, he loved helping people in general, and that stretched far beyond the ‘call of duty’; so it was no surprise that when Bobby announced a series of fundraisers that the LAFD were participating in, Eddie was probably the only person who didn’t groan in defeat when Station 6 got to host a carnival while the 118 got stuck with a car wash.
He was excited because it was for charity. Not because it meant he got to have an entire weekend free from fire, free to spend some more time with his kid. That wasn’t it at all.
It also wasn’t because he got to spend some more time with Buck, outside of an assortment of burning buildings. That definitely wasn’t it—because despite what Carla said (and what Abuela said, and what Pepa said, and the looks that Hen shot him) he was an adult who had control over himself and had his...emotions regarding Buck under control.
It wasn’t a crush. He was fine. The fact that he had to go through the Starbucks line again after he got Buck’s order to get his own coffee was purely coincidental.
“Dad, can we play my music?”
“Sure, buddy.”
Eddie idly switched through the radio controls on his truck as he pulled onto the highway, smiling at his son in the rear view mirror as Chris pulled out his phone, working with the accessibility controls easily. The device was still pretty new, and Chris was still getting the hang of it, but after the tsunami Eddie would have bought him one phone for each hand if it meant he would know his son was safe at all times. Paranoia aside, Chris had been elated at cataloguing his life whenever he could—they already had digital albums full of Chris and his school friends, his family, and the things he got to do with Carla while Eddie was stuck at work.
Normally on days like today, Carla would have swung by and picked Chris up from the house, but it was easy enough to push that back an hour or so and have her pick Chris up right from the firehouse when he had all but begged to come in to the 118 and say hi to the team.
And hell, if Eddie got his kid to kick up the cuteness near their tip jar? Eddie wouldn’t complain about that, either.
One of Chris’ favorite albums had wrapped to a close when Eddie pulled off the highway, turning down the volume as they started to approach the 118. The morning was still pretty young, but it looked like they already had a pretty good turnout lined up—there were cars wrapped around the station building, in various stages of drying, with a line pretty steadily moving through the main engine bay. It looked like Bobby had moved the trucks out toward the street for added publicity, meaning the entire floor of the station was filled with cars, suds, and pop-ish music (no doubt, courtesy of Chim).
“Eddie, don’t tell me you actually expect us to wash your truck.” Chim snarked from the stairs, his LAFD tee shirt covered in colorful suds and sticking to his skin, and Eddie only smirked as he shoved a twenty into the donation jar. “Come on now, I’m a paying customer! Are you telling me that you’re gonna turn away someone for a charity drive?”
“No, he isn’t. Eddie, here, gimme the keys.” Eddie beamed as he heard Buck’s voice behind him, sticking his tongue out at Chim in a very mature, grown up way as he helped Chris out of the truck. Reaching back into the drivers seat, he pulled the second coffee out of the holder, the iced drink matching his own save for Buck’s added pumps of sugar—and almost keeled over when he turned around.
Look, if there was one thing that Eddie Diaz knew, it was that life was not fair.
His two tours weren’t fair. His son’s CP wasn’t fair. His marriage with Sharon hadn’t been fair.
But pulling up to the 118, stepping out of his truck, and coming face to face with Buck? Buck, who was clad only in his turnout pants and suspenders, who was dripping wet?
Well, that wasn’t just unfair, that was mean.
“See, Chim, this is why the Diaz’s are my favorite. You gotta step up, man, Eddie brought me my favorite coffee and my favorite Chris.”
Buck was thankfully oblivious as Eddie short circuited, bending down to high five Chris, his face brightening when he saw the second coffee in Eddie’s hands. He pulled the coffee and the keys out of Eddie’s shockingly limp grip, turning to Chim triumphantly as Eddie tried to gather his thoughts. His thoughts, which currently needed gathering, because they were tracing the path a drop of water made as it glided along Buck’s shoulder blades, trailed along to the edge of his torso, resting on a hip that Eddie would very much like to bite, thank you, and—
“Buck, I’ll be giving you an actual niece or nephew! That has to rank better than coffee!”
“Well, first of all, Maddie will be giving me an actual niece or nephew. Second of all…”
Eddie pulled himself back to realist as Buck and Chim started to bicker, eyes suddenly desperate to look anywhere else before he got distracted again. “Hey, uh, I’m going to set Chris up upstairs, we’ll be down in a second.”
He wasn’t sure if he was more thankful for the easy out or for the distance that he got to put between himself and a half naked Buck, but Eddie was nothing if he wasn’t an idiot—so even as he helped Chris set up some papers around the table at the loft, he still found himself peeking over the railing whenever Buck laughed, or shouted, or did anything that could draw Eddie’s attention away from the here and now as he sipped his coffee.
One of his little dalliances must have taken a little longer than before, because he honestly couldn’t telly ou how much time had passed before he heard Chris speak up.
“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”
Eddie felt his head snap up, his face instantly bright red as he almost choked on his iced coffee. He gasped as he saw Chris hiding behind his cell phone, immediately breaking out into giggles as he pointed his camera back and forth from Eddie to where Buck stood in the engine bay. He was quiet enough, thank fuck, so Eddie didn’t have to do any immediate damage control—just had to save face, doing so with an exaggerated flourish as he easily closed the space between he and Chris, picking his son up playfully with one arm as the other snagged his phone from his hand.
“The lies! The deceit! Betrayed by my own son!”
“Daddy, nooo!”
Eddie found himself laughing as he flopped down on to one of the overstuffed couches in the loft, grinning like a fool as Chris wriggled beside him, his phone still secure in Eddie’s hand, out of Chris’ reach.
“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”
Eddie blinked, looking up as he heard Chris’ words repeated, eyes looking at the loop now playing on his phone. It was a Snapchat—one of the few social apps Eddie allowed on Chris’ phone, after Chris had more or less taught him how to use it (and had promised to send Eddie a few selfies throughout the day).
Chris had done the courtesy of zooming on Buck, bending over to scrub at the rims on Eddie’s truck, and then the camera swung back to Eddie, who... missed his own mouth with his straw, several times, trying to sip from his coffee.
Alright, maybe his crush wasn’t as under control as he thought it was.
“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”
Eddie frowned as his ears twinged, suddenly aware that the sound wasn’t coming from Chris’ phone, the looping audio echoing up to the loft. He put his head next to the phone, trying to tell—were the speakers broken? Was something jammed in a port or whatever?
He turned the volume up, frowning, a little disappointed. He had told Chris how important it was to take care of this things, and if his phone had already been dropped or broken, he would have to—
“DAD’S GOT A CRUSH ON BUCK, DAD’S GOT A CRUSH ON BUCK...”
—he would have to crawl into a hole and die, because that sound wasn’t coming from Chris’ phone, it was coming from Eddie’s truck. Eddie’s truck, which was powered on, and still connected to Chris’ phone from their music this morning.
Eddie’s truck, which thanks to his own idiocy had every speaker blasting, and had a bright red Buck bent over the hood—frozen, like Eddie seemed to be, his face unreadable as he stared up at Eddie in the loft up above the bay. Eddie felt his body go numb as Chris finally stole his phone back, the sound thankfully stopping as he locked his phone.
“Oh fuck.”
“Ooh, you owe a dollar to Carla’s swear jar.”
-
“There’s my number one guy! Chris, how’re you doing?”
Eddie managed to successfully avoid everyone for the better part of an hour—it was easy enough to do, considering they still had a line out the door of people waiting to get their cars scrubbed down by the 118. He felt a small moment of dread spike through his heart as Carla managed to seek them out—he would have a zero chance of hiding if he didn’t have his ‘son-shield’ up.
Eddie managed a small smile as Carla ruffled Chris’ hair, clearing his throat. “Hey, Carla, you brought your van today right?”
“Sure did, what’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. I just need to lie down behind your rear wheels so you can put me out of your misery before you leave.”
“... uh huh.” Carla rose her brow as Chris shoved his papers and markers into his backpack, looking at Eddie in a way that was almost pitying. “Daddy accidentally megaphoned his crush on Buck to the entire station, so he’s been hiding upstairs and helping me draw instead of helping with charities.”
Well, that was one way to put it, though Eddie would have preferred a way that made him feel less of a dick. He winced as he nodded his head, clearing his throat as Carla’s eyes widened. “And that’s why Daddy has to go throw himself into traffic.”
“Well, I would prefer it if you didn’t.”
Eddie felt his entire body tense as he heard Buck behind him, only managing a weak wave as Carla whisked Chris off down the stairs—his protests of “but Carla, I wanna listen!” making Eddie go even redder.
At the very least, he wasn’t alone in that boat. Buck was an absolutely delightful shade of pink, and Eddie was fucking distraught to learn that Buck’s blush went all the way down to his chest, because for some reason the other man still hadn’t put on a shirt. Normally, Eddie would have been delighted to see that, but after having his feelings so publicly (even if intentionally) put on blast, all that he wanted was to be swallowed up by the floor.
“Don’t worry, I’d make sure Chim had to scrape me off the pavement, you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” Eddie said, his humor landing a little dark—Buck didn’t laugh, but his smile did grow, and Eddie counted that as a win as he sighed. “Look, Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird and I don’t want to—“
“Oh, Eddie, I’m not here to talk about that, I just wanted to get your help scrubbing on the floor.”
Oh. The car wash, right. Eddie felt his stomach drop as he swallowed, processing what Buck had said, nodding his head. Buck wanted to look past it, pretend it hadn’t happened. That was... fine. Eddie hitched a smile onto his face, nodding his head as he looked down the floor, finding the tie of his own boots fascinating. “Yeah, no, you’re right. Sorry I was putting it off, I’ll grab some towels and I can—“
“Actually, you should start washing up with me. I was thinking we could make a bet out of it.”
Eddie looked back up, curiosity outweighing all the weight in his stomach as he tilted his head, trying to get a read on Buck—even if all he could see was that delicious blush, trailing down Buck’s neck and fucking Christ, across his chest. “A bet? Buck, I don’t know if—”
“Whoever gets the most tips has to pay for dinner... tonight? After we’ve dried off?”
Eddie felt his jaw click shut as Buck cut him off again, his brain trying to work a mile a minute as he caught up with what Buck had said.
Because if he didn’t know any better, if sounded like Buck was asking him out on a date.
“Buck, you... you? Me, when... you really... when I...”
“Eddie, will you please just say yes? I was going to ask you an hour ago, but you’ve been hiding very unsuccessfully from me.”
Buck was asking him out to dinner. Buck was asking, him, Eddie Diaz, out to dinner, after Eddie all but humiliated himself. Buck had been waiting since that moment to ask Eddie out to dinner. Oh this, this he could certainly work with.
“So… dinner, huh? You’re on. But if you’re going to be working in just your turnouts, so am I.”
Yeah, he could work with that. And two could play at this game.
(If Carla was laughing when Eddie explained their little bet over the phone later, she was all but howling when Eddie admitted he won, asking if she could watch Chris for a few more hours and for recommendations as to where he could take Buck on their first date—even as Chris shouted “good luck, dad!” over the phone.)
my friend, if you wrote me a college au and/or a soccer player au for buddie i would owe you my whole life
first of all LAUREN I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME A YEAR TO GET TO THIS XOXO i loved the idea of a soccer fic so much but i do not know anything about the sport to do it right so i hope this 4.5k mess is still to your taste <3
second of all smooches as always to @buckleydiazs for helping me level out the softboi energies [ilu bb]
Let it be known that Edmundo Diaz was not a subtle man.
Patient, sure. Kind, absolutely. But subtle? Definitely not.
“Eddie, are you paying attention?”
“To you? Always, Buckaroo.”
“I’ve told you before, it’s just Buck. So, what’s the answer to number four?”
No one was better at throwing the already minute amount of subtlety he had out the window than Evan Buckley. It should have been embarrassing—would have been, if it were anyone else—but that’s just how Buck was. If you didn’t love him, you were either an idiot, or an asshole, or both.
Eddie just happened to wear his... Buck-related emotions a little more on the sleeve than most.
“Ah, no, close, but you have to remember to multiply air resistance on both sides.”
“Right, thanks Buck-amuck.”
“Eddie, no.”
Buck was hot, sure, but more disastrously, he was cute. He was so cute, and he was nice, and Eddie wasn’t sure how much longer he was was going to last under the never ending amount of support and care he got from Buck before he combusted; and it had started at day one. College hadn’t been high on his list for a long time, the thought of starting college when most people his age were graduating something he didn’t know how to approach—but after his tour in Afghanistan all he wanted was a normal life, and Buck... well, Buck was a big help in that.
He wasn’t sure what he appreciated more—the fact that Buck didn’t treat him like some sort of hero after doing only a tour in Afghanistan, the fact that Buck didn’t give a fuck about his age (“Twenty three is not that old, Eddie, you’re barely four years older than me, stop being so dramatic”), or the fact that two weeks into their college career, when Buck walked in to find Eddie with his hand down his pants and distinctively male moans coming from his phone, instead of getting angry or being disgusted, he had almost passed out laughing at Eddie’s embarrassment.
“...no, hang on, how did you even get that number? Where did that come from?”
“Buck-uccino, I’m never going to get this. I’m doomed.”
“Eddie, you—oh god, never use that one again—you’re going to get it. We’ll keep working at it.”
That, though, that was the worst part about rooming with Buck. He was tenacious, or maybe just caring, or nice, or whatever—because when Eddie had started failed his Physics midterm and learned about the very real threat of academic probation (which would mean no grants, no scholarships, no more soccer), Buck had dropped everything and started tutoring Eddie whenever he could. Even now, he was smiling at Eddie like he believed he could do anything, and damn if Eddie didn’t want to believe him.
Buck was just that kind, that sweet, that good—and Eddie was that gone.
--
“Chim, keep your feet moving! Come on!”
As teasing as Eddie may have been wherever Buck was involved, he was completely different when he was on the field. He was every bit the teammate that commanded respect, pushed his players to do better, and kept his team motivated—enough that he had fit in seamlessly with the team, despite being only in his second year, despite his age gap, despite everything.
“Good, Bosco! Keep it up!”
If only Eddie could keep himself that motivated while he was studying. He tried, he really did—but he wasn’t sure if it was the continuous closeness of Buck as they poured over Eddie’s notes, or the impossibility of the materials he was studying (he was in the Army, for fucks sake, he didn’t need to care about the force exerted by his helicopters rotors—he only needed to know that it would fly), but every time they cracked open his physics book, it felt like Eddie was smashing his head into a brick wall.
Things just made more sense out here. Eddie was in his element, and anyone who knew him, who even looked at him, would know that—so it really, really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Chim jogged over to him, keeping his high knees going as he hopped in place, jerking his chin somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder while he and Hen worked on some touchless passes.
“Looks like you have a visitor.”
Eddie turned around from his position near the goal, squinting over to the tunnel, his face immediately brightening as he saw who it was. He kept himself moving in a jog as he closed the distance between he and Buck easily, all smiles as Buck looked up from his phone. Eddie had to laugh at the image of this kid standing in the middle of the tunnel, forcing the athletes who were running in and out of the locker room to move around him.
It made sense; Buck really was an immovable force.
Eddie wanted to kiss him so bad.
“Well, if it isn’t my good-luck-Buck!” Eddie said, pushing a wide smile onto his face and one of his favorite nicknames out into the air so he would stop staring at Buck’s lips when the other scowled. “What are you doing here?”
Sighing, Buck pushed back off the wall, raising a brow. “Well, I was going to give you a crash course in force, speed, air resistance, and velocity, but if you call me that again—”
“Alright, alright, I get it.” Eddie said, legitimately smiling now as he slowed his pace, starting to catch his breath. “Here, I’ll grab my stuff and we can grab a bleacher or something, I’ll just be a—”
“Nope.” Buck said, popping the ‘p’, his annoyance easily forgotten as he playfully pushed Eddie’s shoulder back to the field. “Grab your team and a ball, we’re learning on the field.”
Eddie stared at him, confusion evident on his face for only a moment before he lit up in understanding, calling out to the rest of the team. He had to admit, this was definitely one of Buck’s better ideas—not that Buck had ever had a bad idea, for the record—but if you wanted a surefire way to get Eddie to pay attention to anything, you threw a soccer ball at it.
Eddie was pleased to know that Buck clearly knew at least that much about him, the feeling dancing in his gut with the reassurance he felt whenever he was reminded that his team had his back. They worked easily with Buck as he ordered them around, had them try different kicks, using the arc of the ball through the air to point out speed, force, gravity. Eddie wasn’t about to say that it was working, but it had to be a good thing that he was forced into a situation where he could focus on something other than Bucks’ voice, or the way that his skin felt when their hands brushed over a textbook.
No, there was no room for soft touches and smiles now; Eddie was stuck in a goal, the smile on Buck’s face far more devious than soft as he explained the rules of their next exercise. Buck was going to ask a question. Eddie was going to give the equation that could be used to solve the problem. It sounded easy enough, but—
"If you can give me the right equation to solve the problem, you get to use your hands to block the shot. If you don’t, you have to use your head.”
...okay, yeah, nothing about that sounded easy.
The fact that Eddie had a team full of sadists didn’t seem to help, either—he no longer cared about how nice they were being to Buck to help him help Eddie when they were really just in it to torment him. It wasn’t fair.
He tried to voice as much, but Buck just called him out for whining. Which was also unfair.
Worst of all was afterward; even after he was able to use his arms around half of the shots, his teammates were terrible, horrible people, and Chim proved exactly why once they retreated to the locker room.
“You know Diaz, I think you did pretty well out there.” he started, and Eddie immediately felt himself on guard—he knew that any compliment after an evening as brutal as that was likely to be designed to lull him into a false sense of security.
“...thanks, Chim.” he started, eyes narrowed. “I think I might actually have a change of this thing.” Chim clapped him on the back, the grin on his face telling Eddie all he needed to know, and he felt himself ready to groan when Chim cut him off.
“That’s good! I know it must have been hard for you, but, hey think about it this way. At the very least, Buck now knows that you can handle some balls flying at your face.”
Chim’s laugh turned into a sharp yelp as Eddie clipped him with a rat tail, but that didn’t prevent the words from echoing through his head for the rest of the night, cheeks burning bright red whenever he caught Buck looking at him funny.
--
“Alright, we’re done for the night. I can practically see the smoke pouring out of your ears.”
“It’s impossible, Buck-fifty. I’m gonna fail, and I’m gonna get kicked out, and you’ll never get to see my beautiful face ever again.”
Eddie groaned, head resting against the open textbook on the table, hiding his head in his hands. They had been studying off and on for weeks, and while Eddie was pretty proud of the things he had started to memorize and retain, he still didn’t know how they worked, how they fit together, how to chose one over the other in a problem, and he was starting to feel like he might never understand it.
“Christ, stop being dramatic. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and this class is not going to be the end of your world, not if I can help it. But what you need now is a break.” Buck said, ignoring the nickname and the dramatics in one fell swoop. He had his phone out in a half second, scrolling through a few different feeds, before his face lit up. “Come on, Lena invited the whole team over for a game night. We’re going to get you out of your head and you’re going to relax, damn it.”
Eddie wasn’t too proud to admit that his heart did a little flip when he realized that Lena and Buck were texting on the regular, something about his friends liking Buck (and Buck liking his friends!) making his heart swell. “I don’t know, Buck, maybe we should just stay in so I can work on my—“
“Nope.” Buck interrupted, popping the end of the word, pulling the book out from under Eddie’s head, ignoring the whine that Eddie gave when his head thunked against the table. “I’m serious, I’ve burned myself out many times before, you need to take the night and remember why you’re actually studying. Passing is great, but we both know the reason you’re working so hard isn’t for the class, it’s for your team, your friends.”
It’s for you, Eddie wanted to say, but the words died in his throat before he could even take a breath in.
They were on their way quickly enough, trekking easily to the Phi Sigma Chi sorority house .
Buck looked fucking adorable, cheeks pinked in the cold air, blond mop of curls peeking out from the brim of his beanie, and Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Buck, you know what Lena says when she means game night, right?” he asked as he threw his arm around Buck’s shoulder, relishing in the way that Buck easily fell into step next to him as they walked. Buck smiled up to him, practically batting his eyes, and Eddie felt himself melt. “Yeah, things like Mario Kart or Smash, right? Or maybe Clue? Monopoly?”
Three hours later, Eddie was seeing Buck in a whole new light—because Buck wasn’t just kind, and smart, and adorable.
Buck was a fucking hustler.
And Eddie was fucking hammered.
He let out a whoop of joy as Buck sunk another ping pong ball in front of Hen and Chim, winning their eighth game in a row, with Eddie taking every drink that anyone scored against their team (Buck was still underage, after all—Eddie may have been a dope where Buck was involved but he wasn’t an idiot).
The thing was, when you had a partner that was amazing at beer pong, you didn’t get to drink nearly as much, so no one could blame Eddie for supplementing himself with several shots throughout the night, one of which spilled as he loudly cheered for Buck’s incredible prowess. Buck laughed at a much more indoor-volume beside him, gasping as Eddie lifted him into the air and Hen let out a wail of defeat, idly shoving the cup toward Chim. Buck’s laugh turned about a pitch higher as Eddie spun, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, looking at him with starry eyes once he got Buck back down to his feet.
“Buck, you… you’re so… how are you so good?!” Eddie asked, voice a rasp of a whisper, like he was asking for the secrets of the universe, and Buck couldn’t have helped the way he smiled if he tried.
He felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted a ping pong ball, twirling it between two of his fingers. “You know, physics? Just think, Eddie, you could use that big brain to be a beer pong champion.” He asked, laughing as Eddie threw his arms around his shoulder, a ragged exclamation of “YOU’RE SO SMART!” leaving his lips as Buck struggled to accommodate the sudden dead weight.
“Uh—“
“Okay, that’s usually a sign that it’s time for Eddie to go home.” Hen, his guardian angel, appeared next to him, helping Eddie stand a little more upright. “You guys walked, right? Karen can probably bring you back, I just—“
“Oh, no, that’s okay! I should be able to get him back, now that he’s upright.” Buck said, waving away her concern as he put Eddie’s arm around his shoulders, the other hand secure on his hip as they started to make their way to the front of the house.
Eddie might have been mostly incapacitated by that point, but that didn’t stop him from waving and saying what he thought was a perfectly coherent goodbye to everyone, the cold night air doing little (but still at least doing something) to help his coordination.
Eddie was content to walk in silence for only a moment, his head tilting onto his shoulder as he looked over to Buck, suddenly feeling so much lighter than he had a moment ago.
“Buck, you’re so nice to me.”
Buck was laughing. Why was Buck laughing? Eddie was completely serious.
“Buckinator, I’m serious. You’re so nice. And you’re smart, and you’re so pretty. Did you know?”
“Eddie, you are as drunk as you’ve ever been.” Buck murmured, shaking his head, and Eddie was definitely annoyed that it was night time—because he would have bet money that Buck was blushing.
Eddie started to whine as Buck pulled out his dorm card (“I’m not drunk, Buck! I’m serious!”), successfully swiping them both into the building and their room, depositing Eddie easily into his bed as he grabbed a bottle of water. He took a detour to their bathroom to pull out the little bottle of Advil he kept beneath the sink, handing Eddie both of them after cracking them both open.
Eddie stared at the pills in his hand, not entirely sure how he got there, his stomach tightening up as he looked up to Buck. “Hey Bucka… Buck, the… hey Buck?”
Okay, he was effectively drunk enough that he couldn’t think of a nickname. He popped the Advil into his mouth, swigging the water he was given as Buck closed the door, pulling Eddie’s blanket’s back. “What’s up, Eds?”
Eddie felt himself start to be lowered slowly, sluggishly tugging his feet up onto his bed, unsure as to where his shoes had gone, but he wasn’t going to complain. “We’ll still be friends if I end up failing out of school and having to become a hermit who… who lives under a bridge or something, right?” he managed to get out, and Buck’s eyes snapped up toward Eddie’s face. He wasn’t too sure when they had crossed the line from happy drunk to sad drunk, but damn, they had crossed that line at the speed of sound.
“Eddie, hey, no. You’re not going to fail out, and you’re going to be fine. Even if that doesn’t happen… you’re stuck with me, nerd. I’m not about to let you get away that easy.”
Eddie sniffled, nodding his head as Buck pulled his covers up, rolling to face the wall as he heard Buck change, the lights flicking off shortly after. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself, closing his eyes as he felt the room start to wobble. He didn’t realize he was speaking until his mouth was already open, voice soft in the dark.
“I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
Eddie sniffed again, his breath slowing down as he heard Buck shift in his bed, just sober enough to feel Buck’s eyes digging into the back of his head, but just exhausted enough to slip into sleep instead of roll over, only barely listening as Buck responded.
“… just don’t give up, Eds. You got this, I know you do.”
--
The Sunday before the final that would decide his entire life (“I’m begging you, stop being such a drama queen.”), the last thing on Eddie’s mind was physics—he was too focused on the beautiful boy beneath him. He could have drowned in the noises Buck was making as Eddie kissed at his neck, his collar, his swollen lips, the cord of muscle in his neck. He felt Buck’s hands lace with his, the movement more intimate than anything he could have imagined, and he let out a groan as he rolled his hips down, grinding against Buck, and—
—and then Eddie woke up to a soccer ball bouncing off of his head.
Grunting in pained surprise, he shot straight up out of bed, almost falling to the floor, blankets pooling around his hips as he jerked his head around, focus snapping to the sound of Buck’s laughter.
(It was a small soothe to chase away the taste of Buck on his lips, the phantom feel of Buck’s body beneath his, flexing his hands like he could still feel their fingers laced together.)
“Buccaneer, what the fuck?!”
“Come on, we’re burning daylight. Aren’t you usually on the field, like, before the sun is up most days?”
“Yeah, maybe when my career wasn’t already over.” Eddie whined, rubbing at his eyes. Eddie wanted nothing more than to throw the blankets back up over his head and roll over—but he knew from experience that Buck would have just ripped his comforter off and dragged him outside, if he had to, and Eddie was in no... physical state (after the dream he had) to risk losing the safe amount of cover the blanket was currently providing.
Honestly, even after being beaned in the head by a soccer ball, he couldn’t stay mad—not when Buck was smiling at him, physics book and coffee in one hand, the other occupied once more as he bent down to pick up the ball. He really, really didn’t deserve Buck, and it made Eddie feel all the guiltier, knowing full well the thoughts that were running through his mind less than an hour ago.
Thankfully, Buck seemed to soften as Eddie’s emotions played across his face, sighing and rolling his eyes as he tossed Eddie the jersey hanging over the back of his desk chair. “Hey, it’s not over yet. You will get this, I promise. Now, It’s 9 AM, and you’re going to do your drills while I drill you.”
So he was just never going to get that image out of his head, ever. Cool.
An hour later, Eddie was dressed, on the field, working on his figure eights, fueled only by the coffee that Buck had brought him and a burning annoyance for the day as a whole as Buck launched question after question at him.
He kept up his pace as they went back and forth, moving through a few different drills as Buck continued to question him, asking about formulas, equations, situations, making Eddie walk through each step he would do if he had a calculator in front of him. It was exhausting, but Eddie couldn’t deny that it was working—and he really, really didn’t want to look to deeply into the little moments of pride he felt when Buck smiled at him and moved on to the next problem.
He was lining up a row of shots when Buck started on another problem, sinking each shot perfectly into the net, describing the relationship between friction, air resistance, and velocity, when Buck interrupts.
“No, that’s not right.”
Eddie’s next shot goes wide as he turns back to Buck, his eyes narrowed as he goes over everything in his head. “What?”
“Go over it again.” Buck has his head mostly hidden behind the practice exam, and Eddie felt himself fall out of step for a moment before he pulled back for another kick.
“I know the force of gravity.” Eddie started, another kick sinking directly into the goal, refocusing himself.
“And I know the falling distance and the mass.” He continued, taking a sneak peek back at Buck, who quickly ducked his head again.
“And,” another kick, another goal. “I know the equation for air resistance, because you’ve basically pummeled it into my head.” He said, Buck’s little laugh not unnoticed, and Eddie smiled in spite of his frustration.
He lined up his next shot and sunk it, chewing on his lip.
“Then I was right, Buck!” Eddie said, pacing back and forth between the cones he had set up. “I would measure the change in distance and double it, I would divide it by the total time minus the air resistance, and I would subtract the initial velocity. That’s, like, textbook, what could I possibly have—“ Finally catching Buck’s eye, Eddie paused, thrown for a loop as Buck put the practice test down, expression stopping Eddie dead in his tracks.
Because Buck was absolutely beaming at him.
“You’re ready.”
“Wait, what?” Eddie was glad that he had already launched his last ball into the net, because he literally tripped over his feet, catching himself at the last moment as he jogged over to where Buck was sitting, peering over his shoulder.
Every answer that Eddie had given had been circled on the practice exam, not a drop of red ink anywhere on the page. “Wait, I got them right? I... I was right?”
“Even when I tried to tell you you were wrong—which you weren’t, by the way—you still stuck to what you knew, you were confident enough not to second guess yourself, and you proved it. Eddie, you’re ready. You’re going to crush it.”
Eddie looked at the test, then back at Buck, then back at the test, and he couldn’t resist it—he picked Buck up, laughing ecstatically as he spun Buck in his arms. He was feeling more confident than he had in an age and a half, and he knew he had the dopiest expression on his face when he set Buck down, his hands still linked around Buck’s waist.
…with Buck’s hands resting on his shoulders.
“I knew you could do it, Eds.” Buck said, and Eddie felt his face heating up. He had never doubted Buck, not for a minute, even while he was still racked with his own insecurities—but any thanks, any recognition, any anything, were drowned out in Eddie’s throat as Buck moved his hand off of Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie could have sworn he saw stars when he felt the warmth from Buck’s hand rest right against the crook of his neck, thumb on Eddie’s pulse point, his eyes wide as Buck smiled. “I’m really, really proud of you.”
Eddie felt like he was living in a dream his hands sliding down to hold Buck’s hips, half expecting Buck to pull away—finding his smile even brighter instead. Buck looked so happy, so content to be in Eddie’s arms, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling, and Eddie had to swallow, feeling the contrast to himself—sweating, out of breath, probably a little crazy eyed, but… Buck was still looking at him like that.
“Buck, I’m… Can I, um... can I?” Eddie found himself murmuring, chewing his bottom lip. It would kill him right now to let Buck go, when he was this close—but of course, if Buck said the word, he would have leapt back like he was on fire.
He wasn’t sure if it was relief or elation that he felt, heart pounding, when Buck leaned in instead of answering, his thumb catching just the corner of Eddie’s lip before Buck’s lips met his own.
Kissing Buck was like finding God—and yeah, that was probably the worst possible analogy he could have made, but it was true. Buck kissed him and suddenly everything felt right, something sliding into place so deeply in his heart and soul that he had no idea how he had been surviving without.
He felt more than he heard Buck moan against his lips and he came crashing down into his own body, pulling back just enough to breathe, unable to keep the huge smile off of his own face. He had to duck his head, the moment getting to be a bit too much for him, the typical enthusiastic show he put up dulled for a moment as he looked up to Buck through his lashes.
“So... that’s okay, then?”
Buck only laughed, tilting Eddie’s head up for another small kiss. “Eddie, that was great. I’ve been gone on you since, like, the first shitty nickname you gave me.” he said, his voice dipping, suddenly going red as he realized what he said—but the damage was already done.
Eddie’s eyes lit up as he tightened his grip around Buck, his grin spreading so far across his face that it actually hurt.
“Ten-point-Buck. Buck-a-boo. Bucky bear.”
“Eddie, no, that wasn’t supposed to encourage you.”
“...does this mean I get to grab your bubble-Buck?” Eddie asked sweetly, throwing his head back and laughing as Buck buried his head in his shoulder, face burning red.
(Eddie passed his final, obviously—but as excited as he was with the big, red, 91 circled at the top of his page, nothing compared to the warmth he felt when he opened the door to his dorm and found Buck waiting for him in one of his old jerseys. He easily caught Buck in his arms as he jumped, choosing to catch Buck’s lips in a kiss rather than say anything.
After all, he may have had a thousand nicknames at the ready, but for Eddie, nothing compared to calling Buck “mine”.)
sleeping in the same room with buck is proving to be extremely annoying to eddie because at 2am, they'll be trying to sleep and buck will randomly start singing this is halloween from the damn nightmare before christmas and it's the middle of fucking june, and the only way eddie can get him to stop is to kiss him (for the first time)
“Wait, what do you mean you’ve never seen Toy Story?”
Eddie’s voice is in a weird balance of shock and accusatory, the tone making Buck squirm a little on the couch. Chris had all but conned (well, not really, Buck was just a sucker who didn’t know how to say no) Buck and Eddie into a movie night to start off what was affectionately being called ‘birthday week’.
After all, it wasn’t every day that your kid turned ten. Double digits were a big deal—Buck may not know the Toy Story, but even he knows that.
“I don’t know, no? We weren’t really a Disney family growing up.”
“How is that possible?? You’re basically a Disney prince!”
Eddie has that look on his face, the one he gets whenever Buck tells him something that he thought was normal about his childhood—it’s a combination of sad, and desperate, and a little angry, though Buck can’t figure out why—but he has figured out that defending his childhood doesn’t usually go as well as he hoped.
(“I had food and shelter. What more could I ask for?” Buck asks, one particularly exasperating night, after Eddie gives him that look again. Eddie’s response is so soft, Buck almost misses the “So much more.”)
So they watch Toy Story. It’s not a bad movie, at least. It’s... nicely made. He definitely doesn’t feel his entire body tighten up as the toys strap themselves to a rocket and race after a moving truck. And in no way does he breathe a sigh of relief when they fall through the sunroof.
The movie was nice, but the bet part of the evening is, by far, Chris falling asleep against his arm. It didn’t register immediately—he just put his arm around Chris instinctively to keep him comfortable—but as the credits roll, Buck can’t help but smile as he looks down. Somewhere in between gently pulling Chris’ glasses off and scooping the little man into his arms, he catches Eddie’s gaze, and he actually feels his breath catch in his throat.
Because the look on Eddie’s face fills Buck with want. Buck’s seen it before—the soft, dreamy look that Eddie gets more often than not when Buck and Chris interact with one another—but lately, he’s been noticing it more and more, when Chris is nowhere around, at work, on calls, when they’re just hanging out, and it’s dangerous enough that Buck catches himself seeking it out.
Which is a terrible idea, really, one that would only end poorly for him.
Buck clears his throat to break the spell, nodding to the crutches that Chris left by the couch as Eddie jumps up. “Wanna grab those, and we can get little man to bed?”
Eddie doesn’t know when Chris and Buck fell so in synch with one another, but it lifted a weight on his heart that he didn’t even know was there, knowing that even though Chris didn’t trust easily, he could still trust those that deserved it. He followed Buck’s lead as they got to his room, and had to literally grab onto the doorframe to steady himself as Buck tucked Chris in and kissed his forehead.
Wishing Buck a goodnight was never easy, but somehow that night was harder than it had ever been. Eddie wanted to reach out, to tell him to wait, to stay, but all he could do was swallow and smile and wave when Buck pulled out of the driveway.
--
Unfortunately, fires did not wait for birthday weeks, and Eddie and Buck were both stuck on an overnight shift a few days later. The beginning of the shift had started out easily enough—back to back calls could keep anyone busy—but Buck felt himself lagging as the night wore on.
Around three AM, Eddie swooped in and saved him, as he had a knack of doing. Pulling Buck into the media room, he all but dragged him over to the couch, picking a DVD off of the shelf and putting it in as he claimed his space next to Buck. As soon as the Disney castle became clear in the opening credits, Buck snorted, turning toward Eddie as he rose his brow.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Chris said Disney would be good for you. If I don’t at least try to fill this apparently horrendous gap in your life, I’m not sure he’ll ever speak to me again.” Eddie said defensively, raising his hands in surrender as Buck laughed. It was always nice to know that Eddie was a full grown man who was so totally bent to the whims of his son.
More dads could be like that, Buck thought.
He had to admit, though, he definitely didn’t expect what was coming next. While Toy Story had been emotional, the Lion King was kind of a fucking wreck, hitting him with sucker punches left and right in the first half hour of the movie.
“What the fuck.” Buck actually found himself whispering as the dust cleared, only to be confronted with Mufasa’s whole fucking corpse, because apparently that passed for okay in a G rated kids movie in the 90′s. “Eddie, what the actual fuck!” he said again as Simba entered the scene, not entirely proud of how his voice cracked.
Eddie must have heard it too, because the movie was immediately paused, Eddie giving him a concerned once-over before he had to actually hide a smile, the bastard. “Eddie, it’s not funny! This is fucked up! How is this a kids movie!” Buck hissed, reaching out to shove Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie did laugh at that, even if it was a quiet one, and Buck found himself smiling in spite of himself.
“You want me to continue the movie, or do you need a break?” Eddie teased, but Buck could see it for what it was, an easy out. Waving his hand as he wiped at his cheeks, he sunk deeper into the couch, watching as the scene continued. He didn’t realize how close he had been to Eddie until the other male spoke, voice low in the darkness. “You know, whenever something like this gets to Christopher, he usually lets me hold his hand... just a thought.”
Buck almost laughed at the absurdity of the offer until he turned and faced Eddie head on, the words dying in his throat as he saw just how... soft Eddie looked. The trace of teasing was long since gone, the only proof that he had spoken were the way his lips were slightly parted, and Buck felt color rise in his cheeks once again as he shrugged.
“Well... I suppose that would be alright. If you do it for Chris, anyway.” he murmured, letting himself move a little closer to Eddie, their shoulders and arms flush against the soft fabric of the cushion beneath them. He felt a shiver dance along his spine as Eddie gently brushed his thumb over Buck’s wrist, never breaking eye contact, and Buck could feel himself drawn in, moving in closer, until—
—until he jumped about a foot in the air as the siren went off, awake and more high-strung than ever as Eddie doubled over laughing.
(The call was a false alarm—and as annoying as that was, when they got back to the firehouse and finished the movie, Eddie didn’t let go of him until they were off the clock that morning. So, Buck reasoned, it wasn’t all bad.)
--
Chris had all but begged to have a sleepover the night before his birthday, and who was Buck to say no?
Granted, he thought that Chris would be inviting his friends over, like, friends from school, and not just Buck, but... that was fine by him.
(Eddie was a gracious host, at least—he seemed to realize how weird Chris’ request was, and he had given Buck about ten outs at work before Buck had easily shut him up. They had been... flirting? For lack of a better word, for the past few days, and Buck wasn’t afraid to use that to his advantage.
“Eddie, are you telling me you don’t want me to come over and stay the night?” he asked, a grin spreading on his face as Eddie blushed, he actually blushed, and just like that, Buck knew he won that conversation.)
He figured he may as well move up the ranks in Chris’ friend group, so he showed up with pizza and soda, depositing his winnings onto the kitchen counter before joining his Diaz boys on the couch. “Alright, nearly birthday boy, what’s the movie pick for tonight?” he said with a grin, the juxtaposition of Chris’ answering smile and Eddie’s near grimace catching him for a loop.
“Nightmare Before Christmas!” Chris almost shouted, as Eddie let out a sigh. “It’s his favorite movie.” he explained, making sure that Chris was looking forward before mouthing “I hate it.” Buck only barely managed to catch his laugh as he sat beside the pair, pizza at the ready.
The movie wasn’t bad, honestly, but even then Buck could absolutely understand how Eddie suffered through the movie whenever Chris demanded. The kid was absolutely entrapped in the entire movie, from skeleton to Santa Claus (”Sandy Claws”, Chris corrected, and Eddie actually groaned).
One good thing, though, was that the movie was short.
The bad thing about the movie was that meant Chris could ask to watch it again, and neither Buck nor Eddie could find it in their heart to say no.
The other bad thing—the worst thing, even—was that no matter how hard Buck tried, even as Chris was tucked in and read to, he could not get some of the fucking songs out of his head. He didn’t know the words. Hell, he barely knew the tune. But that didn’t stop him from humming as he and Eddie got ready for bed.
They were no strangers to sharing a bed—when you were on a twenty four hour shift, you slept where you could, and if that meant sharing a bed, it meant sharing a bed. At the very least, Eddie didn’t have a twin sized bunk. Buck also wasn't a stranger to death threats, which Eddie was full of the longer that Buck hummed.
“Buck, please.” Eddie groaned, one hand reaching over to smack Buck on the chest. “You’re cute and all, and I love how much you’re enjoying your Disney binge and I love that you’re having a good time but if you don’t shut up right now and get some sleep I will actually kill you.”
Needless to say, it works, though probably not for the reasons Eddie intended. Buck can almost feel Eddie drifting off again beside him when he clears his throat—ignoring Eddie’s groan—as he says “You think I’m cute, huh?”
Buck actually felt Eddie freeze for a minute before he rolled over, and the smug grin on Bucks’ face only grew as he came face to face with a scowling Eddie.
“Yeah, I do. You got a problem with that?”
Buck’s smirk softened into an outright beaming grin, only encouraged as Eddie started to smile back at him. He brought his hand up to Eddie’s hip as they both moved closer together—Buck let his eyes close as he tugged Eddie chest to chest—and then they were kissing.
It was soft, and it was sweet, and it was perfect.
The best part, though was the blush that was painted across Eddie’s cheeks when Buck opened his eyes. He brought his hand up from Eddie’s hip to his cheek, stroking it with his thumb. Eddie was cute as fuck, and that was undeniable, but... Buck couldn’t help himself.
He brought Eddie back into another kiss, painfully—unpleasantly—aware that a kiss was about as far as they would be able to go tonight, with an impatient Chris in the next room.
That might have been part of the reason that Buck decided to open his mouth—the other reason was probably because he was a child at heart, and nothing would ever change that.
“You’re blushing, you’re blushing! I can’t believe my eyes.”
Eddie actually beamed for a moment, before realization clicked on his face, and he shoved Buck away, groaning as he covered his face with his hands.
