I know you’ve only just left, but I already miss you. And Christopher misses you. Tonight we made your favourite for dinner and Chris accidentally set out three plates. It was rough, but he felt better after Papa Buck’s special hot chocolate.
You know, I never thought I’d have much use of this notebook you gave me last Christmas, yet here we are.
Anyway, missing you. Stay safe.
Buck
January 30th, 2019
Eddie you jackass,
I don’t know how to send you letters. They told me you’re on some sort of highly classified mission and there’s no communication. Seriously? Some secret military black ops bullshit and you didn’t tell me? If you die on me, Edmundo Diaz, I will kill you. You hear me? I will fucking kill you.
Buck
March 23rd, 2019
Hey Eddie,
Chris got his first ribbon today at the science fair. He’s so proud and we have pictures that we’re saving for when you get back. I know he’s not supposed to get cookies and hot chocolate before bed, but I figure we make an exception for a special night. Hope all’s well.
Missing you.
Buck
April 1st, 2019
Hen and Chim can walk off a cliff, together. They’re too damn old to be playing April Fools tricks on me! I’m going to be eating glitter for days. Days!
Anway, missing you. Loving you.
Buck
April, 16th, 2019
Feliz cumpleaños, mi amo! See, I’m learning! Chris helped me make you a cake. It’s chocolate and we ate a slice on your behalf. Wherever you are, I hope you’re celebrating.
Missing you. Always missing you.
Buck
May 1st, 2019
Chris was called into the principal’s office today. The other little fuck face claims Chris tripped him on purpose with his cane. His bitch of a mother wanted a written apology and one day suspension. I can’t even right now. Why are people such assholes? Chris says he didn’t do it and I believe him. God, I hate people sometimes.
I don’t know how much longer I can do this without you.
Buck
May 13th, 2019
Chris and I went to the pier for his birthday. It’s kinda special and it felt easier being there when it’s just us. We had churros, cake, lemonade, and maybe that was a bit too much sugar, but he’s passed out now. Yay sugar crash.
He says you owe him a birthday present but I got your back. Now you owe me for being so brilliantly considerate. I’ll be collecting when you get home.
Loving you,
Buck
June 28th, 2019
I heard gunshots coming from the cemetery while we were answering a call. I don’t know if it was a military funeral, but...they’d call me if something happened, right? You’re not so off the grid that I’ll be left wondering for the rest of my life? I’m you husband. They can’t not tell me, right?
Eddie, please, I miss you so much.
Buck
July 3rd, 2019
Chris gave me a miniature fire truck for my birthday. He’s the sweetest child a man can ask for. Really. The gang got me a cake and Chim shoved my face in it. That asshole. It’s a good thing I love him.
It’s not the same without you here, though. I hope you’re thinking of me.
Buck
July 16th, 2019
We went to the aquarium today. They played Baby Shark on repeat and now all I can think about is baby shark do do do do do do do and it’s driving me nuts. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. I may or may not have thrown an octopus plushie at him over it.
Anyway, we saw all sorts of crazy stuff, and Chris loved the dolphin show. We’ll have to go again when you get back. The mango slushie at the cafeteria is magnificent.
Missing you always.
Buck
September 15th, 2019
I miss summer vacation. I know, getting child care is always a pain in the ass, but I loved hanging out with Chris. When I’m with him, it’s like being with a small piece of you, and that made things a little easier. Now that he’s back in school, it feels like you leaving all over again.
It gets pretty lonely at night sometimes. Stay safe and come back to me. To us.
Loving you.
Buck
November 11th, 2019
We’re thinking of you. All of us.
Love,
Buck
November 28th, 2019
I made us Thanksgiving dinner at the station. Chris had a blast and the guys loved having him there. We’re both so stuffed right now we’ve not left the couch even though bedtime was half an hour ago. Chris wanted to say hi, he says I can write for him while he talks, so here goes.
Hi Daddy,
Papa gave me the biggest slice of pumpkin pie tonight, and it was so huge I almost didn’t finish it. But I did. Denny and I got to ride in the fire truck and it’s so cool you get to ride it every day at work. Papa says it’s time for bed now, I love you Daddy, and I miss you.
Christopher and Buck
December 5th, 2019
Why are Hallmark’s movies out already? I’m not ready. We don’t have enough tissues at the house. I need to buy more tomorrow because I used up the last box watching The Knight Before Christmas.
Wherever you are, have a pumpkin spice latte for me.
Buck
December 5th, 2019
Eddie I couldn’t sleep, so I stared at the ceiling talking to myself, pretending you’re here next to me. Remember when you first kissed me? I thought I was drowning and you kissed me. I know it wasn’t a real kiss, you were trying to keep me alive, but our lips touched, and it brought me back, you know? You brought me back when I thought I was dying. When I was ready to give up.
You’re not here to kiss me now, but I’m not giving up. I’m going to wait until you get home to me, to Chris, and I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.
Always loving you.
Buck
December 16th, 2019
Chris had his Christmas concert at school today. The whole unit came to watch. Mama Grant had a camera so we can record it for you. She’s really good with that thing too, even ran to the front of the stage so she could get some closeups. Chris was fantastic. Voice of an angel, I swear. We all went for ice cream after, and no, Edmundo, it’s never too cold for ice cream.
We put up the tree last weekend, and Chris came home with these cookie ornaments they made at school. There’s one for you, too, with your name on it, so come get it, big boy.
Cap says we’re going to have our Christmas party on the 23rd so people can go home and celebrate with their families for actual Christmas. Carla offered to watch Chris, but I’m considering taking him with me. It’s a family friendly party, so maybe Denny will be there too.
Anyway, this is getting long. Loving you,
Buck
December 23th, 2019
Gonna take Chris to the party with me. He’s pumped. Who knew being a parent could feel like this?
I’m always so grateful that you let me into your little family. You gave me Chris, and he’s the best present a guy could ask for. For every Christmas for the rest of my life.
Loving you.
Buck
===
Buck closes his notebook and tucks the pen into the elastic loop attached to the cover. His finger twitches, and he wants to open the book and write our every little thing going through his head right now. Every emotion. But he can’t. It’s too damn painful. And Eddie’s not here.
“Papa?” Chris calls from the bathroom. “Can you help me?”
Buck scrubs a hand down his face and clears his throat, willing the prickle of tears to go away. “Yeah, bud, be right there.”
When he pops his head into the bathroom, Chris is struggling with his bowtie. Buck wanted to get him a pre-tied one, but Chris insisted on the real deal. There’s a little card that came with the tie with diagrams on how to make the bow. Buck studies it, tries and fails a couple times, but eventually he gets a semi decent looking bow that sits snug under the collar of Chris’ shirt.
“There you go,” he says, patting down the lapels of Chris’ suit jacket.
“Thanks, Papa.”
Buck’s chest swells, like it does every time Chris calls him Papa. It started as Papa Buck, but somewhere between Buck moving in and his and Eddie’s wedding, he became just Papa. It was a little strange at first, but it didn’t take long before Buck forgets that Chris isn’t his biological son. He loves Chris the same way he loves Maddie and his parents, but even more so because he never knew he could be so fiercely protective of a single human being.
Some days, Buck muses he loves Chris more than he loves Eddie, and that’s saying something.
Buck stares into the mirror, his eyes meeting Chris’, and they both smile. “Ready?” Buck asks as he straightens his tie.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” Chris leads the way, and Buck follows him out of the bathroom, through the living room, and out the front door. December in LA is mild at best, but Buck shivers as he helps Chris into the car. He looks behind him, then around, but there’s no one there.
“Hm.”
“What’s wrong?” Chris asks.
Buck looks over his shoulder once more, then shakes his head. “Nothing, little man, let’s go.”
The drive to the station is uneventful, but Buck can’t shake that weird feeling swirling in the pit of his stomach. They pull into the parking lot just as Hen, Karen, and Denny pile out of their car, and Buck’s glad he decided to bring Chris afterall.
Bobby’s whole family is here too, along with Michael, and as the spiked eggnog got passed around more than once, that uneasy feeling dissipates into something warm and fuzzy. Buck’s a little buzzed, but only enough to take the edge off.
Chris, Denny, and Harry are off playing somewhere. Buck finds a spot with line of sight to the children and takes a seat, cradling his overstuffed stomach. He doesn’t know why he does this, but he just can’t stop himself from overeating when it’s a holiday. It’s a good thing he’s surrounded by LA’s finest paramedics incase he keels over from too much turkey.
The upstairs lounge is buzzing with people. Firefighters and their families, and Buck tries not to let Eddie’s absence dampen his Christmas spirit. The rest of his family is right here, and he loves and cherishes them, and having Chris here makes up for the fact that Eddie isn’t.
And that’s enough. It has to be.
Buck contemplates a third eggnog, but decides against it. They still need to get home after, and Buck will be damned if he puts Chris’ life in danger just because he’s feeling a little maudlin and a lot lonely. He heaves out of the chair and heads for the trays of cookies and pastries laid out on a long table. If he can’t drink his sorrows away, he’ll just eat his feelings tonight instead.
Somewhere behind him, Chris gasps. Buck’s heart drops through the floor and he spins to find Chris making a mad dash for the stairs. He acts before he’s had time to process, and he’s running up behind Chris, who’s half way down the first flight of stairs, before he sees what Chris is running towards.
Or who.
Down in the engine bay is a lone figure dressed in army fatigues with the brightest hazel eyes Buck’s ever known. His heart jumps into his throat, and the hubbub of the party fades as his eyes meet Eddie’s for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.
They stand there, frozen, staring at each other, and a million things pass in that wide chasm between them. A whole year’s worth of fear and sadness and loneliness. Of love and longing and hope. Buck gets a little lightheaded, and that’s when he realizes he’s been holding his breath. He huffs, and with that single breath, every doubt he’s had this year flows out of him.
Eddie’s lips twitch into a rueful smile, that smile splitting impossibly wide when he sees Chris coming around the corner and down the second flight of stairs.
“Daddy!” Chris’ jubilant shout breaks the freezing spell Eddie and Buck are under, and they move in sync.
“Christopher, mijo. I’ve missed you so so much.” Eddie’s muffled voice drifts up as he clutches Chris to his chest.
When Buck finally, finally makes his way down the steps, he stops just short.
He’s dreamt of this moment, played it in his head over and over and over, imagined every possible way it could play out, but everything he imagined pales in comparison. Buck’s chest aches in that bittersweet, delicious way he never knew he could feel, and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from crying.
Don’t fucking cry. Don’t ruin the moment. Just don’t, Buck.
Eddie looks up over Chris’ head, and his red-rimmed eyes glisten with unshed tears. And that fucking does it. Buck’s eyes burn, and his nose stuffs up even more as he heaves for breath. His vision blurs, and everything turns into a watery mosaic. Eddie reaches for him, Chris still tucked against his chest, and Buck steps into the embrace like his life depends on it.
When Buck’s arms wrap around Eddie’s actual, solid form, every dam he put up breaks, and the first of many sobs heaves out of him. Chris turns around, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck, and then Eddie’s lips are on his skin. Warm, dry, and a little chapped.
They’re on the floor, and Chris is in Buck’s lap, and Eddie’s hands are cupping Buck’s cheeks and Buck can’t fucking breathe. Can’t fucking see because his eyes are leaking like broken faucets. But he doesn’t need to see to know Eddie’s here, in his arms, and his presence is answer enough to all of Buck’s unanswered letters.
“Hey, Buck,” Eddie rasps, his lips hovering on the corner of Buck’s mouth.
Buck wants to say something, anything, but all that comes out is another sob. Eddie chuckles, then his lips press against Buck’s in a soft, chaste kiss. “Evan, Ev, I’m here. It’s okay.”
“Papa missed you,” Chris pipes up between them.
Eddie’s eyes mist, and his arms slip around Buck’s shoulders. “I missed Papa too. Missed you both so, so much.”
“Are you coming home, Daddy?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, and his bright eyes lock on Buck’s with a conviction. “I’m coming home. For good.”
It’s so normal, Buck sitting in the living room with Chris while Eddie grabs another round of beers. Eddie’s not sure how they went from butting heads to stolen kisses to this, but this feels good. Buck will never fill the void left behind by Shannon, not for him or for Chris, but he’s slowly carving out a new place inside their hearts.
A place Eddie calls home.
Buck looks up and their eyes meet. A spark flares at the base of Eddie’s spine, and this spark renews Eddie’s belief that maybe, just maybe, he deserves to be happy, too.
To say that New Year’s Eve is a shit show is the biggest understatement of the year, and yes, that includes the whole tsunami thing.
Buck rips his helmet off as he stumbles into the firehouse, his legs heavy like lead pillars as he trudges into the locker room. Beside him, Eddie drops onto the bench, his head hung low as he checks his phone. Christopher’s bright smile flashes across the screen as Eddie scrolls through the photos Carla must have sent him, and Buck sighs.
He loves being a firefighter. Loves helping people and saving lives. It gives him a purpose bigger than just him, and on any other day, he’d work tirelessly without complaint. But tonight is New Years Eve, and he and Eddie had plans to spend it bringing in 2020 with Chris.
Alas, party animals and house fires from errant fireworks have no regard for Buck and Eddie and Christopher’s NYE plans. When both their phones chirped with Cap’s emergency texts, all three of them groaned.
Hen hangs up her jacket before bending over to tie her shoes, her movements sluggish. What’s the point of even getting out of their gear? If the rest of the night continues like it has been, they’ll be getting another call really soon.
The alarm blares, and Hen groans loudly before reaching for her jacket again. Maybe he jinxed it, or maybe he’s actually clairvoyant. Shit. Buck pats her shoulder, then takes Eddie by the elbow and helps him to his feet before the three of them file out toward the fire engine.
“All right, everyone, look sharp,” Cap shouts over the blaring alarm, and Buck wonders if the man’s really half machine. How’s he so chirpy when he’s half way through a double shift? Is there some super sonic ultra coffee he’s sipping in his office that he’s not sharing with the rest of the team? “We got a PNB at a party downtown.”
“Pulseless non-breather. My favourite,” Chim says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, which is to say, not a whole lot, and Buck doesn’t even have the energy to mutter “mood.”
They pile into the truck, and Cap takes the wheel. With the sirens blaring and lights flashing, they pull through the engine bay doors for what feels like the millionth time tonight. Eddie sits across from Buck and presses his knees against Buck’s. They share a tired smile, and Buck points at Eddie’s pocket with an expectant tilt of his chin.
Eddie blinks for a second, then understanding dawns on him and he pulls his phone from his pocket. He passes it to Buck, and a little spark of warmth spreads from Buck’s chest as he unlocks the screen. Yup, that’s right, Eddie “I don’t trust anyone with anything” Diaz trusts Buck with his phone password.
Buck flips through the photos Carla sent. In one Christopher is stuffing his face with a cupcake, in another he’s got he’s smiling with slitted eyes getting too damn close to the camera. The last one is Christopher holding up a drawing of two men in what looks like Picaso’s version of firefighter uniforms, and a little boy with crutches standing between them. The three of them are holding hands, and there’s fireworks going off in the background.
Buck’s eyes sting, and he quickly turns off the screen before the sting turns into tears. Christopher is a goddamn gift, and anyone who thinks otherwise can fight him.
He hands the phone back to Eddie, and they share a knowing look. Eddie’s knees squeeze Buck’s, and the delicious pressure conveys everything words doesn’t as they take a sharp turn and squeal to a stop.
Eddie, Buck, and Cap hop out of the truck just as Hen and Chim rush past them, their emergency bus parked right behind the fire engine. There’s a small crowd under the neon sign of the club, and Hen pushes her way to the front, her fatigue forgotten as she crouches beside a young man on the ground.
“He just stumbled out and collapsed,” a young woman in a short slinky dress says, her voice high-pitched with panic. “He looked dead and he wasn’t breathing. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You’re the one who called 9-1-1?” Buck glances at the phone clutched in her manicured hands.
“Yeah.”
“You did everything you could,” he reassures her and squeezes her shoulder. “We’ll take over from here.”
Hen checks the man’s airway, then moves back as Chim presses a mask over his mouth and nose. Buck knows the drill like he knows the back of his own eyelids. Two breathes, compression, check, repeat. This is the third PNB tonight, and they already had two cases of alcohol poisoning before ten pm. Buck appreciates a good party as much as the next guy, but this is getting a little ridiculous.
He and Eddie are on crowd control as Cap, Chim, and Hen bring the young man around. Eventually, he sputters and rolls over and vomits all over the concrete sidewalk, and that breaks up the crowd of lookie-loos.
They help get the man onto a gurney and into the bus. Hen and Chim rush off toward the hospital, and Buck has one foot on the truck when movement in the corner of his eye gives him pause. He turns, and dread pool icy cold in his stomach.
Halfway down the block, a group of rowdy drunkards shove a very, very pregnant lady out of the way. Buck watches, frozen in time, as she trips and falls, spilling the contents of the plastic bag hanging on her arm.
Buck curses and runs toward her, shoulder checking the group of drunk men as he pushes through them. One guy makes a grab for him, but his gruff shout of “hey asshole” turns sharp and breathy as he yelps in pain. Buck glances over his shoulder and smirks with satisfaction; Cap’s got the asshole’s wrist in a vise grip as the rest of the group swerves out of the way. Serves him right.
The satisfaction is short lived as he skids to a stop on his knees beside the pregnant lady, who’s gasping in pain as she clutches at her extremely round stomach.
“Ma’am, ma’am—”
“Do I look like a goddamn ma’am to you?” the woman spits through gritted teeth.
Buck scoffs, but doesn’t fight her on it. “My name is Evan Buckley. I’m with the LAPD. Can you get up?”
She tries, then grimaces and falls back on her butt as her whole body curls in on itself. She shuts her eyes and breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth as if she’s done this before.
“I…” she says, her voice strained. “I think I’m going into labour.”
Buck’s swallows as breathing becomes difficult, and he looks up at Eddie and Cap, who are standing a few feet away.
“We’ll get you to the hospital as soon as possible—”
“No,” she gasps, “no you don’t understand. This is my third. When I say the kid’s coming, she’s fucking comi—oh fuck.” She squeezes Buck’s hand as a contraction wracks through her, and Buck tries to ignore the way his bones shift in her grip. It’s a long, agonizing God-knows-how-long before she lets go and says, “Should’ve known better than to wonder around this late at night.”
“What were you doing out this late anyway?” Buck asks as Cap and Eddie spread a blanket on the cold, concrete sidewalk.
“Had a craving for fried chicken,” she responds sheepishly and shuffles onto the blanket just in time for another contraction to hit.
Once over, and she lets go of Buck’s poor, cramped hand, she brushes a strand of hair from her sweaty brow and smiles at him. “I’m Lauren, by the way. Evan, was it?”
“You can call me Buck.”
“Buck, huh.” She purses her lips and tests the name a couple times. “I like it. Maybe I’ll name my kid after you, Buck.”
Buck looks horrified. “I thought you said it’s a girl?”
She grins and opens her mouth, but before she could respond, her face screws up and she lets out a string of curses as her hand wraps around Buck’s once more in a death grip. They don’t talk after that, with the contractions coming on fast and furious and if this goes on any longer he’s going to need a cast for his hand. Cap and Eddie talk her through it, but the lady knows what she’s doing. This is her third, after all.
Another small crowd forms around them. Cap looks up from between her splayed legs and says, “Pus—”
“Fuck, she’s coming,” Lauren shouts.
Buck moves without thinking. Moves because every muscle in his body is trained to react. He reaches under her leg just as a soft head appears, and he catches the baby before the rest of her slides out. Lauren’s sharp cry turns into an exhausted gasp, then she collapses onto the ground.
A thin, shrill cry erupts from the tiny little thing in Buck’s arms, and Buck wants to cry, too, with joy. He looks to Lauren, then freezes when he sees the pool of red beneath her. There’s so much blood. Too much blood. And Cap throws a bundle of blankets at Buck before shoving him and the baby out of the way. There’s shouting behind him. Hen and Chim come flying through with their duffles and life-saving equipment.
Buck cleans the baby as best as he can, then wraps her up and sits on his ass as he watches, helpless. Lauren is awake, and she’s looking at her baby with so much love it brings more tears to Buck’s eyes. The world swims around the edges, and Buck clears his throat and snaps out of his stupor as he gingerly scooches over to Lauren.
“She’s beautiful,” he croaks.
She reaches for her baby, and he hands her over, blood and mucus and all, and something in his chest bursts with so much warmth and hope and joy. Beside him, Cap pats his shoulder, mutters a “well done, son” before pushing to his feet. Buck swallows and tries to follow, but his legs don’t work, so he resigns to sitting on the cold concrete until Chim and Hen has Lauren and her baby up on a gurney.
The crowd around them are chanting something, but Buck can’t make out the words as he watches Lauren and the baby get wheeled into the bus. She waves at him, and he waves back, dazed.
A soft finger brushes Buck’s jaw, and he turns to the gentle touch to find Eddie’s honey brown eyes trained on him. His face is bathed in shifting colours, and there’s cheering all around them. Eddie’s jacket is covered in blood, his forehead damp with sweat, and there’s a small smear of dirt on the tip of his nose. He looks like a fucking mess, and Buck wouldn’t have him any other way.
Eddie smiles that lopsided smile of his and chuckles. “What a way to bring in the new year, huh?”
Buck blinks. “What?”
“Did you miss the countdown?”
“Incase you didn’t notice, I was a little preoccupied,” Buck huffs indignantly.
Eddie’s eyes soften, and his smile loses its playful mockery. “Yeah, you were busy falling in love.”
Buck’s instinct was to deny it, but the sincere look in Eddie’s eyes stops him. “I was, a little, wasn’t I?”
“Maybe, in the future when we’re more...you know, ready…” Eddie worries at his bottom lip as a faint blush colours the apples of his cheeks. “We can adopt a little girl. Chris has always wanted a little sister.”
Buck stares at Eddie, and the implications of his words, the hidden meaning between the lines, knocks the breath out of him. “Are you? Is that a—because if you’re fucking with me right now, Edmundo Diaz, I’m going to fucking kick your ass.”
“Fuck, Ev, yes.” Eddie laughs and gets down on one knee. He pulls a little velvet box from his pocket and pops it open, revealing a simple silver band. “Evan Buckley, the source of all my migraines, the devil on my son’s shoulder, the man who fills my waking thoughts and plagues my dreams, the man who stole my heart and keeps it safe, who’s always got my back. You are the love of my life, the pillar that holds me up and gives me strength, will you make me the happiest man and do me the honour of becoming my husband?”
The crowd around them quiets even as the fireworks continue to shower psychedelic lights over the streets of LA. Eddie’s earnest face is open, vulnerable, so full of sincerity and love. And all that is because of Buck. For Buck, and the tiny little “yes” tumbles from his lips so fast he can hardly catch his breath. Eddie’s shoulders sag and he lets out a relieved chuckle, then scrambles back onto his feet and slips the ring on Buck’s finger.
They stand forehead to forehead with grime and muck and blood and who knows what else stuck on their uniforms, and seal the deal with a searing kiss.
Peace is Buck’s quiet snores filling every nook of their bedroom. Peace is the brush of Buck’s soft lips on his cheek each morning. Peace is loving Christopher without self-loathing and fear. Peace is glancing at Shannon’s photo and remembering their love and the turmoils of their relationship without rage or regret. Peace is the sound of silence with soft edges as he runs into a burning building.
Peace is when Eddie Diaz looks in the mirror and says he’s going to try and love himself a little more today because he’s enough.
(Because...I have no self control...Eddie is me, okay. I’m Eddie. *dies*)
“You did what?” Buck asks, his bright blue eyes wide with incredulous shock.
“Uh”—Eddie licks his lips and shrugs—“I...ate all the brussel sprouts.” It was a lot of brussel sprouts, but in Eddie’s defence, he was hungry, and with his track record he’d rather not light the kitchen on fire a second time.
Buck stalks around the counter and looks into the bowl as if he doesn’t believe any one person can eat that many brussel sprouts. “You’re serious. You actually—oh my god you did.” He spins around and stares at Eddie. “You actually ate two pounds of roasted brussel sprouts.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Was that two whole pounds?”
“Uh. Yeah.” Buck looks into the bowl one last time. “That was for like, at least four people.”
“Oh shit,” Eddie mumbles, his cheeks heating. “Was that supposed to be for dinner?”
“Think so, Cap mentioned something about a roast chicken and veggies? Guess that was supposed to be part of the veggies.”
Eddie groans and sighs. He should have known better than to steal food from the kitchen so close to dinner time, and now that Buck’s put a weight to the amount of tiny cabbage he’s eaten, his stomach suddenly feels a bit rumbly.
“You know, two pounds of brussel sprouts is like ten cups,” Buck says, his face doing this complicated dance of trying not to look amused. And failing. “Half a cup of brussel sprouts is twenty-eight calories and two grams of fibre.”
“Why the hell do you know all this off the top of your head?” Eddie frowns.
Buck rolls his eyes. “If my math is correct, and despite my rugged good looks, I am fantastic at math, that’s five hundred and sixty calories and forty grams of fibre.” He stares at Eddie’s stomach and whistles low. “I hope you’ve been drinking a lot of water.”
Eddie’s stomach gurgles and he swallows. That...does sound like a lot of calories for some mini cabbages, and Eddie had no idea brussel sprouts were so high in fibre. But more importantly, he ate all of Bobby’s brussel sprouts. Shit.
As if the whole universe is trying to punish Eddie for eating some goddamn brussel sprouts, Bobby, Hen, and Chim chose this moment to walk into the kitchen. Buck’s eyes widen like saucers, and he tries to hide his grin behind a mug of coffee.
“The brussel sprouts are done,” Bobby says as he ties an apron around his waist. “We just need to—” He looks into the bowl and frowns. “Where did my brussel sprouts go?”
Eddie stares at him, probably looking more stunned than a deer in headlights, and swallows. Three pairs of eyes pin Eddie to the spot. Buck snorts, spewing coffee every which way, and Bobby’s expression goes from perplexed to knowing.
Without a word, Eddie turns and runs, Bobby’s indignant shout of his name right on his heels.
He’s been waiting for this day for two bloody weeks. Two weeks where they got called in on their days off to fill in, because emergencies have no respect for Eddie’s carnal needs.
Buck, naked as the day he was born, crawls onto the bed and flips onto his back, and miles of muscular legs spread to invite Eddie in. Eddie groans, and he’s only too happy to comply when Buck gives him that come hither look. How the fuck is he so good at that? That downward tilt of his gorgeous head and those blue eyes flashing through fluttering, thick lashes set Eddie’s skin on fire and his pulse into overdrive every. Single. Time.
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” Eddie growls as he yanks his shirt over his head and throws the damn thing somewhere behind him, its existence already forgotten as Eddie makes short work of his pants and underwear.
“I think I have an inkling of an idea,” Buck says and rocks his hips, his hard, hot cock standing at full mast and demanding attention.
Eddie shakes his head and pounces onto his bed—their bed, because Buck finally, finally agreed to get rid of his condo and move in with him and Chris. To finally complete their little family. A burst of affection overcomes Eddie, and he slows his pawing of Eddie’s chest long enough to find a pert nipple. He rolls the nub between his fingers and grins when Buck arches off the bed, his glistening lips parted in a surprised O.
“Fuck, Ev,” Eddie breathes against the hollow at the base of Buck’s throat, his tongue darting out to taste the salt on Buck’s skin. His teeth follow, then his lips, soothing and nipping and soothing again until Buck’s a writhing mess beneath him. Eddie kisses along the curve of Buck’s shoulder, along the taut rope of muscle up the side of his neck, and latches onto the soft spot behind his ear, the hand not torturing Buck’s poor nipple finding its way around Buck’s straining erection.
Buck bites into his fist, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and Eddie’s almost sad Chris is home today. He misses Buck’s lewd noises and impassioned cries when Eddie plucks his body like the world’s most expensive guitar. Alas, they didn’t think it was fair to kick Chris out of his own house just so his two dads can screw like horny rabbits. Even if they really really wanted to.
Eddie kisses down the front of Buck’s neck, trailing kisses down his chest and his perfect abs, following Buck’s thickening treasure trail until his chin rests on the coarse curls at the junction of Buck’s thighs. Buck’s legs spread wider, and Eddie looks up to find lust-blown eyes staring down at him, a thin halo of blue surrounding the ever widening pool of arousal.
Buck’s whole body is vibrating, and the anticipation of what’s to come sends a thrill straight to Eddie’s own neglected cock. His cock can wait, because right now, Eddie wants to lavish Buck like he deserves to be lavished.
He grips the base of Buck’s cock, his lips ghosting over the tip, when Buck freezes, his blissed out expression replaced by surprise and dread. And that’s when Eddie hears it, the unmistakable tap of Chris’ crutches ending at their closed door.
The door handle rattles, and Eddie looks over his shoulder just in time to see the handle turn.
“Daddy? Papa?”
“Shit shit shit shit,” Buck whispers, his voice tight and filled with terrified urgency.
Buck scuttles backwards, ripping his cock from Eddie’s grasp, and before Eddie can react, hot, blinding pain explodes in his right cheek. He curses, his eyes watering, and is that blood in his mouth?
“Oh, shit, fuck, Eddie, are you okay?” Buck’s voice cuts through the pulsing rush of blood in his ears, and large hands cup his face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—oh shit, Christopher—”
“Papa?” Chris’ voice cuts through all the chaos. “I’m hungry. Can you make grilled cheeses for lunch?”
“Y-Yeah, sweetheart, whatever you want. Just give Papa a minute, okay?”
“Okay.”
They wait, frozen like statues, until Chris’ footsteps fade away. Eddie glares at Buck through welling tears, and gingerly pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. There’s a motherfucking gash where his flesh rests against his teeth, and the coppery tang of blood coats his mouth.
“Seriously?” Eddie pulls out of Buck’s grasp and rubs his jaw. “Did you seriously knee me in the face just as I was about to go down on you?”
Buck blinks indignantly as he rolls off the bed and rummages around the floor, straightening when he finds his discarded underwear. “Are you seriously mad at me right now? Chris was right there! I thought he was gonna come in!”
“You didn’t have to knee me in the face?” Eddie grumbles. “I can taste blood, Ev, blood.”
Buck buttons up his jeans and plunks down next to Eddie. He touches Eddie’s cheek, probing finger gentle but firm. “Oh man, I am really, really sorry about that. I didn’t want to scar Chris for life and I panicked. I swear I didn’t mean to knee you so hard in the face.” He looks down, his cheeks and neck flushed crimson, his expression sheepish and apologetic.
Eddie hrumphs, but he can’t stay mad at Buck for long. He grips Buck’s chin gently and lifts his face until their eyes meet, and Eddie leans in and brushes his lips against the corner of Buck’s mouth.
“I guess you can make it up to me later,” Eddie murmurs. “After grilled cheeses and tomato soup.”
Buck grins, then, and the predatory glint in his eyes sends a delicious shiver down Eddie’s spine.
Some days Eddie looks at Chris and sees an old soul. An ancient who’s seen more than he should have in the few years he’s been on this planet. Some days, Eddie’s heart aches for how quickly Chris had to grow up. How much harder his life has been because Eddie was too afraid to be there to hold his son up.
Eddie’s here now, but it’s Buck who helps him rediscover his inner child. Buck who shows Eddie how to restore pieces of Chris’ youth until they’re all laughing under the sun, together, their hearts open like unfettered children.
When Eddie stares at the man sleeping next to him, he sees a future full of promise and hope. A future where Chris can grow up with love in spades. A future where he can bicker and live and grow old with someone.
Hope died with Shannon, but hope isn’t a finite thing to be lost forever. Hope is opening up his heart again. It’s taking a chance with Buck. Hope is having Buck’s back knowing Buck’s got his.
Hope is the look in Chris’ eyes when Eddie and Buck pick him up from school, together, because they’re a family.
