God I know I'm a broken fucking record, but I'm baking again so I don’t text him. I’ll bring you some more scones later.
Buck shoots the text off to Eddie because he’s feeling pathetic and he’s been wallowing and baking all day again instead of doing his laundry like he’s supposed to and everything feels overwhelming even though it shouldn't.
Eddie doesn't text back and his phone doesn't vibrate for a long while so Buck just closes his eyes and grits his teeth.
It shouldn't be this hard.
He’s gotten over people before.
He held onto Abby even when she was gone, but that was so murky and he was still living at her place so it made sense at the time. But when he was done waiting for her, he moved on. He left her place and tried to leave most of the baggage and emotion he felt for her there.
And he might not have gotten real closure for a while, but he was over her probably before he ever left that apartment. He didn't think about her much after he left her place because there wasn't anything to think about. He’d done his mourning of that relationship while he was waiting for her. So when he was out of her place, there wasn't anything left to think about.
That’s the most comparable relationship he has to Tommy so he doesn't know why he can't get his brain to catch up with the facts.
It's over. It's done.
So he should move on and Tommy should stop taking up so much real estate in his mind.
That’s easier said than done, of course, because he thinks about Tommy all the time. He wants to talk to him all the time.
He still wants to send all the little texts he used to send him throughout the day—the good morning texts, and the thinking of you texts, and the late night deep dive did you know arthropods account for 80% of all animal species texts.
It doesn't help that there’s so much of him everywhere he looks.
He sees the blanket Tommy used to wrap himself up when he slept on his not-that-comfortable couch so he could be steps away in case Buck needed him after he dislocated his shoulder.
His ghost is in Buck’s kitchen, puttering around, trying to find a spoon to taste the sauce he cooked the first time he made Buck dinner.
There’s a memory of him in Buck’s shower—on his knees, hands and mouth worshiping him—that Buck can't get out of his head when he showers.
Tommy’s side of the bed is glaringly empty whenever he gets into bed at night.
The second coffee mug Buck pulled out the morning after he was dumped before his brain fully woke up that he hasn't been able to bring himself to put away sits empty, mocking him, every single morning.
There's memories of him at Eddie’s house and at the station and in his Jeep, so everywhere Buck goes, he can’t help but think about him, can't help but want to text him every little thing like he did when they were still together.
And when he thinks about him, he pines, according to Eddie.
No matter what he does, he can't get him out of his head.
He unlocks his phone to call Eddie to complain out loud since he won't validate him over text, but when he sees the name at the top of the screen, his heart stops.
Because he didn't send that text about Tommy to Eddie.
He sent it to Tommy, whose text thread he had opened earlier today to torture himself by looking through their old texts.
He swallows thickly, his heart is stuck in his throat, the sound of his heartbeat deafening in his ears.
Steve and Eddie meet on a dating app and agree to get dinner after messaging each other for a few days
And the date is going really well—like really well—but half-way through Steve gets a call from Robin with an emergency, their cat is at the animal hospital and needs surgery and she’s freaking out, and she’s been handling it alone because of his date, but she needs him because she’s scared, so Steve has to end the date early even though he’s having the time of his life
And poor, Eddie—he was having such a nice time and he thought Steve was too, but he hits him with the “my friend called with an emergency” line and then books it out of the restaurant, looking frazzled. Eddie asks the waitress for the check, but Steve somehow grabbed it on his dash out of there, so at least he didn't have to pay for his date to ditch him
And Steve goes to the vet and luckily everything turns out to be fine, the cat swallowed something he shouldn't have like the little gremlin he is and needed surgery to get it out, but he’ll be fine and he goes home with them the next morning
He goes to message Eddie on the dating app that afternoon, after everything calms down, because he never got his number and he’d like a do-over, but Eddie unmatched him sometime in the last 18 hours, which is such a bummer because he thought Eddie was having a good time
Fast forward a few months and Steve is meeting Robin and Chrissy, her new girlfriend, and Chrissy’s friend, who he secretly suspects she's trying to set him up with, for dinner and when he shows up, he nearly has a heart attack at who’s sitting across from Chrissy at the table
Eddie looks up and immediately there’s a scowl on his face and Steve winces, buckling himself up for an immensely awkward night
If Robin and Chrissy notice anything off about them, they don't mention it
The girls leave after dinner and Steve goes to the bathroom before he leaves and Eddie corners him to find out why he couldn't have just let Eddie know he wasn't having a good time like a decent person and Steve is obviously confused because Eddie is the one who unmatched him when Steve thought things were going well
They figure it out eventually and maybe end up making out in the bathroom about it a little
“Mmm,” Evan says after Tommy slips back into bed after cleaning them up. “We should get married.”
He’s still laying face down, pillow smushed against his face, so Tommy thinks he mishears it the first time around.
“What?” he asks, because there’s no way those words just came out of his mouth. They’ve barely been dating for six months.
Evan turns his head to the side and says clearly, “We should get married.”
“Yeah, okay, I thought I misheard you. You're not serious,” Tommy says, but his heart speeds up all the same.
They have keys to each other’s places, they’ve said I love you (maybe a little soon, maybe after a tough call, maybe because the feeling was too big to ignore even if it had only been a handful of months), Evan’s floated the idea of moving in when his lease is up.
So it’s not like marriage is something that Tommy thought was a total impossibility for the future.
Evan sighs and says, “I just really want to see Gerrard’s face if I put in a request to get new turnouts and shirts and new name pins because we got hitched.”
Tommy grins despite himself, but then schools his face into his patented Evan face, and says, “I’m not letting Gerrard steal an important moment from us just because you want to give him a heart attack. I do love this vindictive streak of yours though. It’s very sexy.”
He’s heard from both Chimney and Eddie that Evan has been a menace at work, literally carrying around the rule book hoping to catch any infractions Gerrard makes. He’s been yanked forward as Evan has tried to eat his face when Tommy picked him up after a shift, Gerrard looking on with a scowl. He’s heard from Evan himself about the judgment calls he’s made on calls just to be able to throw it back in Gerrard’s face (and save some lives while he’s at it).
And it’s all done nothing but turn Tommy on. He didn't know sticking it to Gerrard would be so fucking satisfying even if he has to live vicariously through Evan to do it.
“But not sexy enough for you to marry me,” Evan says, his lips pouty.
“Afraid not,” Tommy says, stroking a hand down Evan’s sweaty back. “Is that—is that something you would want, though?”
His palms feel clammy as the words come out of his mouth. They haven't talked seriously about what the future looks like for them because it’s still pretty early even if Tommy knows that this is kind of a once in a lifetime love for him.
Evan turns onto his side and props his head up on hand. “Marriage? Yeah, I want to get married one day.”
Tommy nods, a little too quick to be nonchalant. “I’d also like to get married one day.”
The words come out breathless and it’s too telling, showing all of Tommy’s cards, but he can’t find it in him to be afraid of this.
“What a coincidence,” Evan says, ducking his head and smiling bashfully. “Maybe one day we’ll both be married.”
Tommy can feel his face getting hot. “Maybe,” he says, his hand sliding down Evan’s arm so he can lace their fingers together.
the coffee shop meet-cute
@steddiemicrofic prompt: pin, 388 words | rated: g
“I think you dropped this,” Eddie hears as he’s waiting for his coffee.
“Hmm?” Eddie asks, looking up, his heart coming to a halting stop as he lays eyes on the most gorgeous guy he’s ever seen.
“You dropped this,” the guy says again, holding out a napkin.
Eddie’s brain is still offline as he reaches his hand out, hand brushing against the guy’s as he takes the napkin from him.
He feels pinned under his stare and he can't seem to take his eyes off him— the sharp line of his jaw, the moles dotted on his face, the dark hazel eyes. He thinks he would look at him all day if he could.
And—
The guy seems to be looking right back, which is doing a number on his heart rate right now.
“Have a nice day,” the guy says after a moment of silence, a shy smile on his face, his cheeks a little pink.
Eddie snaps out of his reverie and says, “Yeah, you too. Thanks.”
He watches as the guy walks towards the door, watches as he turns back before he gets to the door and catches his eyes again.
Eddie hears his name being called and has to turn away. He walks forward to grab his coffee from the counter. He reaches out to grab a couple napkins and then frowns.
He hadn't grabbed a napkin before now so there’s no way he dropped the one that cute guy had just handed to him.
He looks down at the napkin clenched in his hand and finally notices the ink on it. His heart clenches in his chest.
Ten digits— a phone number.
Under the numbers is just a simple: You’re cute. Call me? -Steve
Eddie recalls the shy smile and flush on the guy’s face as he walked away and a flush comes over his own face.
He stops at a table before he leaves and sets his coffee down to plug the number into his phone.
There's a grin on his face as he texts the number, as he slips the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping because there’s no way he’s throwing it away when he thinks he just met the man of his dreams.
He tamps down his smile and walks to work with a pep in his step.
Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
“What in the hell am I looking at?” Steve asks, expression flummoxed.
“That, my dear, is my newest creation,” Eddie says proudly, looking from the yellow painted dachshund/banana figurine back to Steve's face.
He hid it on their bathroom counter, half-obscured by the face wash Steve uses at night. He’s been waiting with baited breath for Steve to find it, lingering by the doorway while Steve washes his face.
Steve picks up the figurine Eddie painstakingly made and holds it in his hand, marveling at it.
“I love him,” Steve says, biting back a grin. “What’s his name?”
“Banana Dog,” Eddie says and Steve wrinkles his nose.
“You can't name a banana dog ‘Banana Dog’. That’s so lame.”
“You name him, then,” Eddie says, crowding closer, wrapping his arms around Steve, kissing his temple.
Steve hums and looks at Eddie’s reflection in the mirror. “He looks like a Jerry.”
Eddie snorts. “Jerry? Okay. Jerry, the banana dog, it is.”
“Tell me about him?” Steve asks, leaning back into his embrace.
Eddie tells him about how the party will meet Jerry and Steve listens on with adoration in his eyes the whole time.
It’s a thing that’s normally true—he’s always looking at his boyfriend’s ass—but he really couldn't tear his eyes away today.
His incredibly tight basketball shorts have made a reappearance today and Eddie is looking.
He watches as Steve flits around the kitchen, as he leans over the stove to stir something, as he bends over the kitchen island to chop something up.
If Eddie didn't know better, he’d almost say Steve was doing this on purpose to get his attention.
“My eyes are up here,” he hears Steve's voice say and he looks up, caught.
Steve's looking over his shoulder with a smug look on his face, so Eddie gets up and stalks towards him, pressing into his space and grabbing two perfect handfuls of his ass.
“I know where your eyes are, sweetheart. I was looking at something else entirely.”
Steve relaxes back into him, turning his head so their noses brush together. “Yeah?” he asks, a little breathy.
Eddie hums. “I think you know exactly what I was looking at.”
He kisses Steve and squeezes his ass, pulling a gasp out of him.
