Eddie and Buck are sitting at the kitchen table, Buck on his iPad half-heartedly looking through apartment listings and Eddie absentmindedly stirring his coffee. It’s early, Chris is still asleep because it’s Saturday and he’s 14. Whatever that fiasco was with Bobby is resolved and Eddie and Chris are home and Buck could not be happier. Except…
Except this means his time is up. The time he’s spent haunting the Diaz house, playing phantom to the twisted version of a family he’d accidentally conjured up in his mind one of his first nights there - he had to stop, because Eddie’s back now and they’re not… He’s not…
Anyway, he’s looking at apartments and he sighs and shuffles every now and then and doesn’t realize Eddie is watching him. He has one hand wrapped around his mug, one resting thoughtfully on his chin, and he just… stares. And really, without too much though but also with 8 years worth of thinking, he blurts out, “I think you should stay.”
And Buck looks at him, the fondness absolutely radiating from his gaze, and he smiles.
here’s my sasori x oc fic from yesterday! under the cut 🧡 btw some of Akira’s dialogue is inspired by things I’ve read on Tumblr posts abt mushrooms lmaooo… also shoutout to @ratkingpierrot for letting their OC Yurei be besties w my OC 😘
Extant Life 🍄
“What exactly is so amusing about a decomposing animal?” The question comes dripping with poison, typical for Sasori. His gaze downcast, observing the rotting carcass along with the woman so intrigued by it. She’s so absorbed with the remains, hunching over bones and fur, that she doesn’t hear him; Sasori grumbles in his throat. The sound catches Akira’s attention, evident by her slowly rising to her feet and meeting the red-haired man’s gaze.
“Hmm.. It’s not exactly amusing, but…” Akira’s loose fist is in front of her mouth with knuckles resting against her lips; a simple gesture Sasori has noticed her do countless times. It’s not one done out of anxiety, but out of deep pondering. Her eyes flit upwards and Sasori lazily lifts his head to the sky. A kettle of vultures (as Yurei had informed the two that’s what a circling group were called) fly high above them, no doubt smelling the rot. Akira stares up at them, head tilting to the side in interest and amazement; the buzzards swoop and caw aloud, their enthusiasm for the dead creature apparent.
Sasori can tell the animal was small with a bushy tail, possibly a squirrel of some sort or maybe even a fox kit. He can see all the individual pieces that made it up: bone, muscle, sinew, organs, flesh, and fur. There’s a bloodstain underneath it all, a black mark soaked into the earth. It’s familiar to him, albeit dissimilar from the human bodies he’s performed vivisection on. He turns his attention to Akira again and posits, “If it isn’t amusing then why are you wasting time staring at it?” Akira’s head doesn’t turn, but her eyes shift over to meet his scrutinizing look. With the patience of a saint, she kneels back down to the small body and begins to speak; “Vultures and fungi both love in the same way: with heads bowed, praising the rot itself. Even if this animal’s time has ended, it will live countless lives through the mycelium; an immortality found in what grows after you are gone…” As she speaks, Sasori’s eyes are a glare; there is no ploy at hiding his contempt for her drivel. Akira either takes no heed or pays no mind to him as she carefully begins sprinkling spores beside the desecrated mammal, not unlike salt being sprinkled into a dish. He’s fully aware that her intention isn’t to eat the remains, but the comparison stands. A small fruiting body emerges next to the decomposing animal, almost reaching for not only the scraps, but Akira as well.
“How absurd.” His own voice and the scoff accompanying it almost takes Sasori by surprise, but not enough to rattle him. Akira is peeking up at him through choppy bangs, a soft smile on her lips. Her prattling continues, “Your version of love isn’t much different, Sasori-sama. The careful art of keeping alive something long dead…. Living on forever in your puppets and craftsmanship… It’s not absurd, it’s true eternity. Decay has never been the end of all things: decay is an extant form of life.” With no response to this, a slight pause hangs between the two until Sasori breaks the silence. “…We need to regroup with Yurei and Deidara. Enough of this.” He turns from the woman and decomposing remnants, but hears her stand to follow as he begins to trudge away.
Later on, in the dead of night as he works at remodeling Hiruko, Akira’s words ring in Sasori’s mind. …Decay is an extant form of life… The careful art of keeping alive something long dead… Living on forever in your craftsmanship… Visions of his deceased parents, the first puppets he ever made with his own hands… Sasori finds himself staring into Hiruko’s eyes for a long while before moving onto the Third Kazekage. The next morning as the group of four pass near where the carcass laid, Sasori notes that it’s been picked apart not only by the encircling avians, but the small mushroom Akira grew there. Sasori is so deep in thought that he almost doesn’t hear Deidara’s loud attempt at picking a fight with him over art as usual.
For some reason, today he doesn’t feel like having this discussion.
Buck is absolutely doing Fine. He’s Great. Helping Eddie get everything planned and shipped and ready to finally get moved to El Paso and he is doing FINE, okay, just drop it.
And he drives Eddie to the airport and he walks him to the door and we get a shot like this
Except
Except this time before the door shuts all the way, Buck surges forward and runs after Eddie.
“Eddie, wait!”
Eddie turns around, confused, watching Buck run up to him.
“You were right, I’m not okay,” Buck says, body shaking with nervous energy, “I’m not, I don’t… I don’t know what I’ll do without you here.”
Eddie softens, a small, sad smile gracing his face.
“I know, I don’t know what I’m going to do either,” Eddie tells him, “but I have to go, and I know you know that.”
“Of course I do.” Buck goes to reach toward him, but aborts the motion. Eddie hesitates only a moment before reaching out to take his hand. Buck huffs outs a breath before continuing, “but Eddie, you gotta promise me you’re coming back.”
“Buck.”
“No, I know, I know that’s your plan,” Buck grips Eddie’s hand tightly, “but you never know what’ll happen right? So I just, I really need you to promise me.”
Eddie drops the duffel bag he’s and takes Buck’s other hand as well, stepping closer to him. They’re standing just inches apart now, basically sharing breath. Eddie has to just barely tilt his head to look in Buck’s eyes.
“I promise I’m coming back.” The words are soft, almost a whisper. “There’s this guy I was planning on asking on a date.”
Buck can only smile and surge forward and press his face into Eddie’s neck as he hugs him tightly. Eddie turns his head and plants a kiss into Buck’s curls and allows them to settle in the embrace for a few moments before pulling back.
“You keep my seat in the engine warm, yeah?”
Buck nods, cheeks red and eyes shiny.
“You hurry up and get back here so I can kiss you,” he tells him, “I’ll save it, so you have more incentive to come back.”
“All the incentive I need is you.”
“Sap.”
Eddie chuckles, putting one hand on Buck’s cheek and leaning forward to press a kiss into the other.
“I’ll see you soon, Buck.”
“Yeah.”
So Buck watches as Eddie finally has to turn and walk away again, this time on the other side of the glass doors.
I’ve seen like six people on my dash do this but I never saw an original post about it so: send me a ship and a prompt and I’ll write a ficlet pls!
Tommy/buck
Accidentally falling asleep
Here’s 1k words of fluffy softness from Tommy’s pov (this why Buck’s called ‘Evan’ throughout). Enjoy!
After three dates, Evan and Tommy start spending more time together than just a few hours here and there at dinner or out hiking or something. Now that they’re past the initial awkwardness and urge to impress to make sure the other really likes them, they end up spending their entire days together when they happen to have days off at the same time.
Today, Tommy shows up at Evan’s loft at 10AM with coffee and breakfast from a little cafe near his apartment that Evan loves but doesn’t go to very often. They have vegan breakfast sandwiches that are absolutely to die for, apparently, so Tommy got two because Evan can be particularly ravenous in the mornings. He knocks on the door and it only takes a moment for his boyfriend (boyfriend) to appear in front of him, hair wild and curly, totally free of product He’s wearing grey sweatpants (fucking hell) and a dark blue hoodie that Tommy is pretty sure went missing from his own apartment a few days ago. He has pillow marks lining his face and his eyes are only half-open as he smiles lazily at him.
Tommy’s heart swoops in his chest and he can’t help the burst of butterflies in his stomach at the sight; he’s had a good number of relationships, but few have left him feeling this giddy or light. The mere sight of Evan’s bright, toothy smile is enough to make his pulse quicken and stutter in his veins.
“Hey, baby,” Evan leans in for a kiss before he even lets him in the door. Tommy indulges him, leaning across the threshold to press his lips to his in a chaste kiss that feels altogether familiar and brand new.
“I got us breakfast,” he holds up the bags in his hand as he enters the apartment, placing the items down when he reaches the table. He turns to face Evan and sees him still smiling dopily at him, one hand still holding the door and the other jammed in his hoodie pocket.
“You’re so fucking cute,” he mumbles, stepping to him and easily closing the distance in two strides before pulling him into a deeper kiss. His hands end up wound around the back of his neck, and Tommy hums as he plays with the short hairs there. They stand there like that for a while, kissing with a gentle hunger that sends waves of contentment through him. It doesn’t feel like there’s any expectation for more, no quickening pace or fiery passion to the wet glide of lips, just a longing for the other man in every single tilt of their heads or brush of their noses. He could live in this moment, this feeling, for the rest of his life.
“So anyway,” Evan pulls away abruptly when his stomach audibly grumbles, “you said something about food?”
Tommy laughs and goes about plating their sandwiches and accompanying salads, all while Evan sits at the table and watches him with his head resting lazily in his hand. Tommy just lets him, relishing in the feeling of being wanted, of being desired.
They eat fairly quickly, their legs tangled together under the table while their fingers danced together on top of it, and Tommy’s pretty sure a permanent blush has made its way to his cheeks. He knows he plays cool and suave really well, but having someone like Evan Buckley all soft and giggly over him is enough to crumble those walls right down.
After they’re done with the food and Tommy bullies Evan into letting him wash the few dishes they’d dirtied, they make their way to the couch and settle in with the next episode of the show they’ve been watching.
“I went on a Wikipedia binge last night because of this show,” Evan tells him, his head resting on his chest with his arms wrapped around his middle. Tommy hasn’t felt this secure, with Evan’s comforting weight over him, in a long time. “I was looking up stuff about selective memory erasure and artificially separated identities.”
“Hm,” Tommy absently runs his fingers up and down Evan’s spine, feeling the man melt under him. “Is that why you seem so tired?”
“Maybe,” Evan huffs a small laugh, turning his head to bury his face into Tommy’s shirt, “but I just get sucked in.”
“I know.” Tommy can’t help the fond smile that creeps its way across his face. “It’s one of your many, many endearing qualities.”
“Y’know, with most others I would think you were being sarcastic.”
“I absolutely am not,” Tommy insists, leaning his head down to plant a kiss in Evan’s hair. “I could listen to you talk about your internet deep dives all day.”
Evan doesn’t reply, but Tommy feels the way his face shifts against his chest, like he’s smiling too. Good. Tommy is finding he’ll do just about anything to keep that smile on Evan’s face for as long as he can. The soft, easy hope that he’s seen Evan exude over the last few weeks makes him so happy. He knows he’s been a huge part of it, no doubt, but also just finally being able to step into his queer identity has made him blossom into this version of himself that is uninhibited, unbridled; absolutely teeming with pure joy.
“Are you gonna tell me about your binge?” Tommy asks softly, fingers still drifting up and down his back. When he doesn’t get a response, he pauses his movement and peeks down at Evan’s face to find it slack, mouth open and eyes shut, fast asleep.
He can’t help the warmth that blossoms throughout his chest. He must have been really tired if he fell back asleep, he doesn’t usually nap as far as he knows. He tries not to listen to the little voice in his head telling him it’s just because he’s there, and he makes Buck feel comfortable and relaxed.
He leans down and once again kisses Evan’s head, this time letting the kiss linger for a moment before letting his cheek rest against his hair and resuming his gentle stroking along his back.
“That’s alright, baby,” he whispers, silently and softly switching the TV to The Office reruns so Evan doesn’t miss their show. “We can talk later.”
He tries to watch the show playing quietly on the TV in front of him, but he quickly finds himself losing a battle with consciousness. The soft ministrations of his fingers along Evan’s back gradually slow to a stop and his own eyelids drift closed as he allows himself to be enveloped in the warmth of Evan’s presence, and they don’t wake again until lunch.
This turned into a character study almost so pls enjoy (also, i love the idea of pathetic (affectionate), oblivious Eddie so bone apple teeth)
Buck isn’t expecting anyone at his door at 9 at night on a Tuesday, least of all the man now standing across his threshold. When he heard a sharp knock, his mind first went to Maddie, but he’d just left her place earlier and he couldn’t think of any reason why she would show up a few hours after seeing him. Then he thought maybe his downstairs neighbor who likes to complain to him about noise even though he’s rarely home was there to bitch at him again. He certainly did not think that when he opened his door, he’d find Eddie standing across from him.
Not that Eddie doesn’t visit him often, it’s just that… Buck may or may not have gotten unnecessarily aggressive on the basketball court last week and Eddie may or may not have been on the receiving end of said aggression.
He’d gone to Maddie’s earlier to talk to her about this enveloping, consuming jealousy he felt whenever he saw Tommy and Eddie together, and how he could not for the life of him figure out where it came from. A long conversation over brunch that abruptly ended when Howie “loud mouth” Han got home elucidated a few things. First that his abandonment issues were most definitely rearing their ugly head, but that past that, there may be something other than jealousy under there. Something closer to envy.
See, Buck wasn’t afraid that he would lose something to someone, or feel threatened, which he’d learned from Maddie was what jealousy actually meant. He realized he wanted what Tommy seemed to have - this flirty side of Eddie that Buck had never seen before. Because that’s what envy is apparently; a “painful feeling of wanting what someone else has”.
Anyway, when Buck realized he was envious, that opened a whole new door in his mind that he hadn’t even realized was there. Like in the attic of his brain, there was a hallway of rooms leading to one idiosyncrasy after another, and at the very end, past what the dim light could reach, was a door covered by boxes and boards that he forgot about a long time ago. Now that the light is shining inside, Buck is terrified. He’s terrified because not only is he envious of Tommy, he’s also a little envious of Eddie, too. He doesn’t want Tommy, not anymore anyway. It was actually an initial crush on him that really ended up being a catalyst for him to figure everything else out.
No, he’s envious of Eddie because something about the way that he seems to be able to be flirty and light and open with a man twists something in his gut. A little gremlin from that dark, forgotten room saying remember me, notice me, acknowledge me.
This all leads him to now, standing in his doorway with Eddie on the other side, a mix of contempt and wariness etched into his features. Buck silently moves to the side to allow him entry and Eddie steps past him and into the kitchen. He idly taps his fingers on the island countertop a few times as Buck slowly closes the door and turns to face him, a swell of nervous energy threatening to choke him.
“Eddie-”
“What has been going on with you, man?” Eddie interrupts him almost immediately, arms thrown out in frustration before crossing over his chest. “You invited me to play ball with you and then acted like you hated me when I showed up. Now we’ve barely talked in days.”
“I invited you,” Buck stresses, though the fight isn’t in him anymore. All that’s left are the nerves he’s carried since that damn attic door was opened and a bone-deep exhaustion over the intense self-reflection he’s gone through over the past week.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Buck sighs, hinging his neck so his head falls back, eyes cast to the ceiling, as the breath makes an audible sound past his lips. How is he supposed to tell Eddie any of this? How is he supposed to explain well, see, you and Tommy were being all flirty and I realized I really wanted you to be flirty with me and then I realized I kind of wanted to be flirty with a man, and wait, that makes me gay doesn’t it? But I’m still attracted to women so that’s bi, right? Or would it be something else? Wait, holy fuck, I’m not straight? Why am I just realizing this at 30-years-old? Wait, do I have feelings for Eddie?
He still doesn’t have answers to most of these questions.
He must stay silent for too long because Eddie steps closer, the sound of his footfall breaking the trance Buck had found himself in. He looks back down, eyes focusing on Eddie to see concern now written across his face.
“Buck,” he’s softer now, “what’s going on?”
Buck steps around him and sits in one of the stools, folding his arms in front of him and dropping his head to rest atop them. Eddie, to his credit, gives him a moment to collect himself, because even though he is upset, he is still Buck’s best friend and he’s gonna be patient with him.
“I’m sorry.” The words come out muffled between his arms. “I don’t really have an excuse.”
“Okay, but you have a reason,” Eddie prods, rounding the island to stand across from where Buck is sitting and leaning forward on his forearms to get level with him, “talk to me, Buck.”
Buck raises his head and finds Eddie only a foot or so away and his brain short circuits for a moment, his eyes wandering around his face. He hasn’t shaved in a couple days so his stubble is grown out and why does that do something to Buck now? Was this feeling always there?
“Were you jealous?” Buck’s eyes snap up to meet Eddie’s once more, thrown a little off-kilter by the question.
“What?”
“That’s what it seems like,” Eddie unfolds his hands, holding them out as if asking for a better explanation. Buck doesn’t know how to give him one.
“No.” Buck answers truthfully, but he says the word slowly as if he is questioning whether he believes himself. Eddie can tell, of course he can. He huffs out a little breath, of amusement or frustration or disbelief, Buck doesn’t know, but he does stand up again with a small smile on his face.
“You’re my best friend,” he says resolutely, no room for question in his statement. “Nothing is gonna change that.”
“I know.”
“Then what is all this?”
He looks away, instead fixing his gaze on the cabinets behind Eddie’s head. He doesn’t feel ashamed, necessarily. Or well, maybe he does a little bit over how he acted, but the reason for his actions doesn’t bring shame to him. If he is queer in some way, that’s not a bad thing, he knows that. But for some reason the idea of admitting it, of saying it loud, feels monumental. Like a humongous secret he can’t take back. A bell he can’t unring. And if he says it, if he says I think I may be queer, Eddie’s going to support him, he knows that too. He knows that Eddie will have his back no matter what, hell or high water, gay or straight, feelings or not. He’s just a little bit afraid that if he speaks those words, it will shift something that he won’t know how to handle, and there may be a teeny tiny part of him that is worried Eddie will react badly. It’s irrational, there’s absolutely no basis for it, but it’s there and he almost feels more anxious over having the fear than the fear itself.
“I-I,” he swallows, his tongue sandpaper in his mouth. He still doesn’t look at Eddie, and he rings the bell.“I’ve been thinking that I may be bi, or queer, or… something:”
The silence that follows his admission probably only lasts a few moments, but to Buck it may as well be an hour. He can’t bring himself to look away from the wall because that small, irrational part of his brain is screaming at him you’ve given him another reason to leave.
“Buck, look at me.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, so quiet, and belies nothing of how he feels. “Evan.”
Buck resolutely keeps his eyes fixed while he inhales deeply, letting the air out in a measured breath, and then he does it one more time before finally tearing his eyes away to meet Eddie’s gaze. What he finds there definitely isn’t disgust or rejection, and it isn’t even confusion or annoyance, but instead unwavering love and fondness that steals Buck’s breath.
“There is nothing you can tell me that will make me care about you any less.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate even a little in laying his hand across Buck’s arm, grip sure and firm. “And this? I’m so grateful you shared it with me, and I’m so proud of you.”
Buck’s throat clicks as he tries to swallow, a fractured breath slipping past his lips at Eddie’s declaration. Is it really this easy?
The silence drags on, and this time it doesn’t feel like Buck is suffocating on it. It doesn’t feel like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop on his relationship with Eddie because he dared to look a little too closely at how he was feeling. Though, he realizes now that his coming out (oh my god that’s what I just did) doesn’t exactly explain everything; it doesn’t explain-
“Why were you so upset at me though?” This time, the question doesn’t sound accusatory or angry, merely curious, and Buck can do curious. He can handle curious, though Eddie’s hand is still on his arm and his brain is working at half capacity at the moment so he can’t be held responsible for what comes out of his mouth.
“Because… because you clicked.”
Eddie’s face goes through a frankly adorable sequence of expressions before landing back on confused and he finally severs the contact between them, his hand coming up to scratch at his chin.
“I gotta say, I’m usually with you but I’m not getting this one, man.”
Buck sighs as he slips off the stool, his limbs sluggish and loose and he’s so exhausted. He stands behind the stool he was just in and fiddles with the leather binding of the upholstery as he speaks.
“You and Tommy,” he mumbles, “you all clicked and it looked so easy and free and you all were flirty and-”
“Flirty?” Eddie interrupts him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and head cocking to the side. “What do you mean flirty?”
“Eddie,” Buck deadpans, head dropping as he looks up at him incredulously. “That man has been wooing you since you met and you all have this easy back-and-forth, and I think part of me was envious seeing you getting to have that with a man.”
He does not mention the other part.
Eddie, meanwhile, still looks a little shell-shocked at the ‘flirty’ comment, but he takes it in stride, head nodding slowly.
“And that made you realize-”
“That I’m… not straight. Yeah.”
Eddie comes around the island to face Buck again. He inhales deeply, just looking at him for a moment. His eyes roam Buck’s face, surely noting the fatigue and the anxiety that have made their home in the creases in his forehead and the bags under his eyes. Finally, he reaches up and gently drops his hand on Buck’s shoulder. The spot where it’s been a few times before, where his palm cups the joint and his thumb rests just barely grazing his neck. He shivers at the contact, or maybe the intensity of Eddie’s gaze, or maybe because he’s tired and it’s late and he wants to forget about his giant crush for a while. Regardless, his breath stutters to a stop in his chest as Eddie speaks.
“No friendship I have with anyone else will compare to this, to us,” he motions between them with his other hand, “and you’ve got to know by now that I love you, to the core, and that includes every part of who you are.”
Buck just nods, the I love you beating wildly into his chest and making a home somewhere dangerously close to his heart. He knows Eddie loves him, has known it, but not like that. Not how he wants.
“And if you act how you did last week ever again,” Eddie’s still speaking, and he raises his hand again, this time to point squarely at Buck, “then we might have issues.”
He’s grinning, fondness seeping out of him, so Buck knows he’s teasing. Still, he plays into it.
“We might just need to go for the title.”
“Yeah,” Eddie’s eyes glint, his bright smile taking over his whole face, “maybe.”
He only ever thought about it late at night, with his arms curled in a self-hug while his fingers brushed the black ink as he thought about his soulmate out there somewhere in the world. He wondered if she, too, had settled down with someone else. If she also felt the same sense of wrongness when she climbed into bed with her spouse at night that he did. Most days he felt more guilty about that than running off to war when things got too hard.
or, soulmate AU set when Eddie joined the 118.
AKA Lain writes a fanfiction for their final paper for a master’s course (see AO3 for accompanying critical essay)
-
Eddie generally didn’t give his soulmate Mark a second thought. He had been fascinated by the streak of black across the side of his arm when he was young, poking at the tattooed skin and watching as the inky blackness stretched before popping back into place. When he was eight, his sister told him what it was. She told him that some people have a Mark on them that means they have a soulmate - a special person that is perfect for them in every possible way. The spot on his arm is where his soulmate will touch him for the very first time, and when that happens, he will feel his heart fill with love and it will feel like everything makes sense. Even cooler, the Mark will burst into bright colors. This enamored Eddie even more, and he couldn’t wait to tell his friends about his Mark. But it was just a few days later when he asked his dad about his own soulmate Mark that the illusion shattered.
“Marks are for women and faggots, Edmundo,” Ramon had spat at him, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never tell anyone that you have one.”
He heard his parents arguing later that night, his mom admonishing his dad for what he’d said. She didn’t want Eddie feeling badly about himself. But despite her sticking up for him, even she agreed with his dad when he’d expressed his concern about how people would view him for having a Mark.
“I’d rather he take it seriously than let him go on thinking it’s okay.”
He never truly believed that Marks were some sort of symbol of weakness, as his dad had implied, but he couldn’t help the way that messaging burrowed its way into his mind and took root. When he had met and fallen for Shannon, he hadn’t even told her he had a Mark. She found out the first time they slept together at 16, and he vividly remembers the way her face fell when she saw it after pulling his shirt over his head. Where she had been grinning, all coy and sweet, her smile then dropped and tears almost immediately filled her eyes after they landed on the stretch of black across his bicep.
She didn’t have one, and while it wasn’t unheard of, it wasn’t exactly common for only one person in a soulmate pair to have a Mark. When she had cautiously, slowly, reached shaking fingers to his arm, she felt nothing when they brushed against the warm skin there. No rush of emotion, no flash of understanding, nothing. She didn’t have to look at Eddie to know he didn’t feel anything either.
No one knows why humans have these Marks. There are ancient cave drawings of lone Neanderthals with streaks of black on their bodies, while drawings of pairs had colorful splashes that aligned with where they were touching. It’s a trait that, as far as anyone knows, humans have always had and no one quite understands. Some people get them, some people don’t, and there doesn’t seem to be any reason as to who inherits them. They run in families, and women are only slightly more likely to have them despite the pervasive discrimination some people face in certain parts of the world that equate the Marks to femininity and therefore weakness.
Eddie has heard the stories in school about entire nations that vilify people with Marks, and about the places that venerate them. He used to dream of moving to a city that was more accepting than El Paso, as he learned fairly young that having a Mark wasn’t cool from more people than his dad. He was in middle school when he took his shirt off in the locker room and a popular kid saw the Mark on his arm and laughed at him.
“Hey, Eddie has a Mark, I bet he likes dick!” He’d snorted, slapping his friend’s arm and pointing over at Eddie, who had quickly slipped his t-shirt back on, shame twisting in his gut. Eddie doesn’t even remember his name now, but he remembers hearing a few years later that his dad was arrested for abusing him because he had a Mark, too.
By the time he graduated, found out Shannon was pregnant, and enlisted in the army, his Mark was barely a passing thought. He only ever thought about it late at night, with his arms curled in a self-hug while his fingers brushed the black ink as he thought about his soulmate out there somewhere in the world. He wondered if she, too, had settled down with someone else. If she also felt the same sense of wrongness when she climbed into bed with her spouse at night that he did. Most days he felt more guilty about that than running off to war when things got too hard.
A few bullet holes and a medical discharge later, and suddenly he’s home again and he had to learn how to be a husband and a father after barely being present for the first four years of his son’s life. He never thought he’d end up getting a crash course after Shannon left them just a couple weeks later.
So no, his Mark was never really at the top of his mind.
But after he worked some odd jobs and decided to join the fire academy, he began to think about himself a little more than he used to. The first choice he ever made for himself was to move to Los Angeles to join a firehouse there. He packed Christopher, a few boxes, and some suitcases into his old truck and made the 12-hour drive to L.A and the little bungalow he’d rented sight-unseen.
Now, with his twisted past behind him, he steps into station 118, meets his coworkers for the first time, and feels a sense of hope. That is, until he meets Buck.
His captain, Bobby Nash, is great, he knew that from the interview. Paramedics Hen and Chimney seem wonderful, very friendly and welcoming, albeit with very odd names. But Buck approaches him like he immediately hates his guts and frankly Eddie is a little offended.
“Don’t worry about him,” Chimney tells him after a couple of tense calls, “he just got dumped and he’s not taking it well.”
“Oh, was it a soulmate?”
Sometimes soulmate pairs don’t work out, despite the literal universe aligning for them. Sometimes people are too broken or too jaded and no matter how hard they try the relationships still fail.
“No, no, I think he wishes she was,” Chimney leans against the railing of the loft, looking down at Buck in the app bay. He’s cleaning the truck after the last call, his brow furrowed and gaze hard as he wipes at the same spot for far longer than necessary. “She was some great love apparently, but she just left him, went off to another country.”
“Wow, that sucks,” Eddie muses, his heart softening a little bit toward the man, “I uh, definitely feel for him.”
Before Chimney can respond, the bell sounds overhead, signaling another emergency needing their assistance. Eddie races down the stairs, and as he goes to climb into the engine, Buck steps in front of him and steps up inside. Eddie pauses for just a moment before getting in, shooting a glare Buck’s way.
This is going to be interesting.
From the moment he learned about soulmate Marks from his sister, Maddie, Buck was hooked. The thought that somewhere out there was someone who was universe-approved, made just for him, fills him with a sense of hope and purpose that he’d never felt anywhere else.
He’d spent his entire life scrabbling for love, getting scraps from his mom and dad. Maddie was his person, the only one who truly loved him, but he was only 13 when Doug got his claws in her. Before long, she barely visited, and more than once Buck thought for sure he’d seen a bruise peeking out from her sleeve. She always denied it, of course.
So, while Maddie’s leaving pained him more than anything, he could never blame her. After she left, it was like he became a ghost in his own home. His parents never noticed him, and if he’s honest, they barely noticed each other. Neither of them had soulmate Marks, but both Buck and Maddie did (he definitely noticed that his sister’s Mark that covered the inside of her right hand remained an inky black after she introduced Doug).
He wondered sometimes if his parents were too hardened, too bitter, to deserve Marks. They didn’t seem to care about Buck and Maddie having them. They were more interested in Maddie’s before she revealed she and Doug weren’t soulmates, sometimes discussing the money they were saving for her “soulmate wedding”. Buck may as well not have had one at all. Honestly, Buck may as we have not been there at all.
By the time he got out of Hershey, where he’d spent his whole ghostly life, the only thing on his mind was his Mark. He positively yearned to love and be loved in the way he’d grown up learning about, and he bounced around the country for a few years in search of it. From Wyoming to Ohio to Georgia to Peru, he worked his way through different odd jobs before finding himself settling down in Los Angeles working with the LAFD. Being a firefighter gave him a purpose more so than even his Mark had.
It took him a while to find his footing. Bobby was an enigma that he couldn’t figure out for a while, only learning he’s one of the rare people that have two Marks months after meeting. Buck had never even heard of it until Bobby told him about it. For a very small number of people, if your soulmate dies, a new Mark can develop later in life. Bobby had been angry about his new Mark for a long time. That is, until he met Athena, and she brought a peace to him he hadn’t felt since his first wife died. Buck was inspired by them, as well as Hen. She and her wife were set up on a blind date by Chimney and realized they were soulmates the moment they met when Karen touched Hen’s arm as they greeted each other across the table. Chimney also had a Mark, but he had not yet met his soulmate, the black marks streaking down the fingers of his right hand a common Mark for people to have. From handshakes to soft touches like Karen and Hen, Marks on your fingers are not rare.
Buck himself is a little different. It’s not necessarily abnormal, but it’s not as common to have Marks in less conspicuous places like the torso, shoulders, or hips. Buck’s is a single swatch of black at the hinge of his left shoulder, and he had grown up imagining many different scenarios that could explain its placement. He spent a lot of his childhood in his imagination, honestly. It was the only place that no one else could touch. The disinterest from his parents, the annoyance from teachers, the absence from Maddie, none of it matter when he escaped into his head to live out the fantasy of what could be. He did settle down a little, eventually. After working at the 118 for a while he became more confident, more sure that he didn’t necessarily have to rely on fantasy. The love he was wanting was out there somewhere.
That doesn’t mean he still doesn’t struggle with his self-esteem sometimes, or his raging jealousy that he usually refuses to investigate further. So when Eddie Diaz shows up at his firehouse, all competent and attractive and confident, he suddenly feels 16-years-old again. It doesn’t help that he’s still clinging to the hope that Abby will come back. He knew she wasn’t his soulmate, she didn’t have a Mark, but he’d spent their entire relationship trying to convince himself that it’s okay, that they didn’t have to be soulmates to make it work. Maybe that’s true for other people, but it’s been a few months since she left, and weeks since he’d last heard from her, so he’s beginning to believe it less and less.
Eddie just made him so frustrated. Who did he think he was, acting so familiar so quickly? Just because he’d served in the military it doesn’t mean he’s better than the rest of them. Besides, he was a medic, he’s basically just doing the same job. He was just being shot at before, as he had flippantly reminded Buck of earlier.
Despite this, Buck can admit (to himself, no one else) that he’s a little impressed by him. His quick thinking had come in handy on more than one call today, and he’s very, very thankful for his knowledge right now as they are staring down a live grenade from a grenade launcher. Really, how did Buck get himself in these messes? Charlie was a collector, he’d said. War memorabilia, artifacts, and dummy rounds of ammo and grenades. He’d sworn this one was a practice round, but Eddie caught sight of the gold cap and all hell broke loose. No, actually, this was a live round embedded in Charlie’s leg after he set off the gunpowder component that sent it launching through his thigh. According to Eddie, the second component included a proximity fuse and explosives. The grenade hadn’t traveled far enough to trigger the explosive, and their job was to remove it from Charlie’s leg without rotating it. Easy enough, right?
Of course Eddie is stupidly good at this, too.
All Buck can do is sit in silent support holding the explosive containment box as Eddie slowly but surely places the grenade inside. He’s not sure if it’s the hype from the ordeal or what, but Buck finds himself enamored by the end of it. After they’ve exited the ambulance they’d performed the dramatic save in and they’re standing in the empty parking lot, Eddie looks at him for a beat, a small grin on his face.
“You’re a badass under pressure, brother.” He reaches a hand out, which Buck shakes readily. The moment their hands meet through their gloves, Buck feels tingling move from his palm up through his fingers. He chalks it up to the fading adrenaline and instead looks at Eddie’s slowly growing smile. He can’t help himself from smiling back, his cheeks flushed as he breathes out, “uh, me?”
“Hell yeah,” Eddie nods, withdrawing his hand. Buck immediately feels the loss. “You can have my back any day.”
“Or you know, you, uh,” Buck stumbles over his words, looking down at his feet for a moment before looking back up, “you can have mine.”
Eddie just laughs, and Buck thinks for a brief moment that he’d be okay if he never stopped, and-
Oh.
Okay, things make sense all of a sudden.
Because see, when he was 13-years-old, this new kid, Henry, transferred from a middle school one district over and everyone liked him. He was so popular, he played football, the girls fawned over him and the guys wanted to be him. Buck hadn’t really been popular, he’d been a pretty chubby preteen and look, middle school is a rough time to be anything other than thin. But he’d been generally well-liked, and seeing even his own friends fall over themselves for this guy had made him so angry. After a few weeks, Buck realized that what actually was happening was he had a crush on Henry and thought he was cute. The only problem, though, is that… Well, Buck had a Mark. He was supposed to grow up and get married to a woman with a complimentary swatch of color on her skin. He couldn’t have a crush on some boy.
His parents hadn’t ever been homophobic, that he can remember. He remembers hearing about a cousin of his mother’s who was gay, and she’d gone to his wedding with no issue. They never made off-hand comments about the very few noticeably LGBTQ+ people they’d occasionally see around town like some of his friends’ parents did. But even though they hadn’t been homophobic, they never were exactly open to other possibilities. It was just expected that Maddie would grow up and marry a man and Buck would grow up and marry a woman. On the rare occasions they mentioned anything about his Mark, they always said “woman” when discussing his potential future partner. After realizing he had a crush on Henry, and considering those implications, he had patched up that part of his brain behind a solid brick wall and told himself that it’s okay if other people are gay or bisexual or whatever, just not him.
Once he packed away those feelings, he never felt them again. He never let himself. Until now, as he watches Eddie easily meander through the small crowd of other firefighters and the bomb squad that had assembled for the incident and make his way to the engine. He can’t have some crush, he can’t. He’s got to find his soulmate, he knows she’s out there somewhere. He knows, down to his bones, that she’s waiting for him to find her. He knows it as surely as he knows his heart is going to beat and the sun is going to come up every morning.
He hears Eddie laugh at something Bobby has said, and his heart quickens in his chest, and he realizes that yeah, he’s pretty much fucked.
Eddie is still jittery from the rush of that call as they pull into the app bay back at the station. The sweat that had gathered on his hairline and down his neck is cooling against his skin, leaving him sticky and gross, but he doesn’t really care. He hasn’t felt this amped up since Kandahar, and while he’s thankful he never has to go there again, he can’t help but miss the surge of adrenaline he’d feel from a successful mission. He also finds that he can’t stop thinking about Buck, and the way his cheeks had flushed when Eddie complimented him. He’s not totally sure why that reaction is replaying itself in his head, but he kept sneaking glances of the other man on the ride back and more often than not would find him already watching.
He realizes he’s been staring into space, unmoving, when Hen swats at his knee with the back of her hand and motions to the open door.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he tells her, offering a smile in an attempt to assure her, “adrenaline crash I think.”
She nods in understanding, allowing him to jump out first before she climbs out behind him. She announces that she’s heading for the kitchen to get a snack and suddenly, he finds himself alone. The others had already dispersed, either getting food or hitting the showers, probably, and he should do that too, but instead he wanders into the locker room and plops down on the bench. He inhales deeply before letting the breath out in a long sigh, his shoulders sagging as the air leaves his lungs. It’s like he can feel the last of the nerves leaving his body, his hands tingling as he shakes them out in front of him and stretches his neck out in circles.
It’s been a good day. Not exactly what he thought his first day would be like, though he supposes he wasn’t really sure what it was going to be like anyway. Out of everything, Buck had certainly been a surprise. He doesn’t understand how he’d gone from hating him, to blushing at a single compliment. Even more, he doesn’t understand how he’d done the same; going from being a little perturbed at Buck’s contempt, to wanting to make his face flush again in whatever way he could.
Is this a gay crisis? Is that what this is?
Before he can question himself further, the man of his thoughts knocks lightly against the glass at the entrance.
“Hey, I didn’t wanna scare you,” he smiles, stepping lightly into the room and toward one of the lockers. “Our shifts over in five, I figured I’d go ahead and change.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Buck just hums, pulling what looks like joggers and a tee from the locker before sitting on the bench beside Eddie, who watches as he begins to untie his boots and shimmy them off his feet. He watches as he toes them off and kicks them toward the lockers, one of them making contact with the metal with a dull thud. He watches as Buck goes to unbutton his shirt, and-
He whips his head forward, probably too hard and very noticeably, judging by the huff of a breath that Buck lets out beside him. Eddie can feel his cheeks burn, fingers fiddling with the hem of his own button-down uniform shirt. He should be changing out of his own clothes, but suddenly he finds he can’t will himself to move. He’s frozen in place, heart beating a rhythm against his sternum as he barely catches a flash of skin beside him as Buck finally unfastens the last of the buttons and pulls the shirt off his frame.
“You gonna change, Eddie?” He asks casually, his tone light and teasing. Eddie rolls his eyes, despite his sudden, what can only be described as gay, panic, and begins to unbutton his own shirt. He makes quick work of it and the fabric, wet with sweat, peels away from his shoulders.
Neither of the men look at each other as they remove their respective undershirts, both now completely bare from the waist up. The airy, flirty vibe Buck had been giving off just a moment ago has been replaced by a tension that Eddie can’t quite name. It’s right there, just out of his grasp, and he feels like if the thinks too hard on it he’ll just work himself into a real panic. Instead, he goes to stand, still keeping his eyes forward and reaching out to his locker in front of him to pull out his own street clothes. Just as he goes to sit back down, Buck moves to stand up and they brush against each other. The hinge of Buck’s shoulder swipes across the side of Eddie’s arm, and the world bursts into brightness in front of them. In an instant, Eddie feels a rush of emotions: love, contentment, adoration, peace. It throws him off balance and instead of landing on the bench he hits the floor, a loud oof pushing its way past his lips. He looks in wonder up at Buck, who had frozen in place the moment their skin touched. His eyes flit from his face, where his beautiful, wide blue eyes are turned on him, down to the ink on his shoulder. Deep blues and reds flood through the Mark, diffusing through the black like milk in coffee. Eddie snaps his head down to his own arm and just barely catches the last of the dark ink being overtaken by the same blues and reds.
Eddie’s not sure how long they stay like this, completely shocked and unmoving in the small glass-walled locker room, but eventually Buck lets himself fall back on to the bench, his eyes still fixed on Eddie and his Mark. It’s him who finally breaks the silence.
“Well damn.”
Eddie can’t help it, he laughs. It starts as a small giggle and works its way into full, bellowing laughter. After a moment, Buck joins in, sliding from the seat and joining Eddie on the floor. Their legs tangle together in a heap, and he finds himself reaching for Buck’s hand. Their fingers meet and twine together like they’re meant to, though, Eddie supposes they are. If it weren’t for the inundation of love pulsing through his soulmate bond, he would probably be freaking out right now. In fact, he’s certain he would be, and maybe he will later when the intense feelings ebb a little and let him have a feeling other than complete contentment again.
For now, he’ll let himself have this.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” Eddie breathes out on a soft giggle.
“My real name is Evan,” Buck says at the same time, sending Eddie into another fit. “I figured you should probably know.”
Eddie pulls Buck’s hand up to his mouth and places a kiss to the knuckles, and ah, there’s that blush again, a soft pink spreading across Buck’s cheeks and down his neck.
“I wasn’t expecting you either, for the record,” he tells Eddie after a moment, squeezing his hand, “I never… I always just assumed it would be a woman.”
“Me too.” Eddie nods. “My parents made me think having a Mark was for f-”
He swallows hard and cuts himself off, unable to bring himself to say the word. Buck swipes a thumb across the back of his hand and hums.
“I can feel your shame, Eddie,” he whispers, scootching even closer to him. “That’s not yours to carry. Not anymore.”
Eddie sighs, letting the negativity roll off of him and settling back into the love pulling him toward Buck, marveling at the way he suddenly has all these feelings for someone he barely knows. Though, he does know him, doesn’t he? That’s what the Marks do; they allow you to feel the other person, like really feel them. One of his science teachers in high school once described it like potential energy. How, just like in physics, you have stored up energy, or love, and when the Marks finally meet, that’s the push the love needs to become kinetic energy. It’s love in motion. Love in action. The universe’s perfectly made match.
He opens his eyes, unsure of when he even closed them, and finds Buck watching him. He doesn’t look worried, because he can probably feel the peace that had washed over Eddie when he let go of that shame, that self-hatred. He’s just… Watching him. Eyes soft, thumb still rubbing gently across the back of his hand, and Eddie smiles. He looks down at the splash of color across his arm, no longer inky black, but navy and maroon, and he brings his opposite hand up to poke at the skin. He watches as it stretches before popping back into place, and then gently places his palm directly over the Mark.
“Well,” he begins, “I guess my dad was right.”
Buck is confused for a moment before he bursts out laughing again.
It’s the most beautiful sound Eddie has ever heard.
I’ve got y’all, I know exactly what’s gonna happen.
Tommy comes back, he and Eddie hit it off and ope they’re dating now and Buck’s ‘big change’ and growth or whatever is realizing he loves Eddie now that he sees him with a man but Eddie comes to work all the time happy about his dates with Tommy and he blushes when he talks about him and Tommy sends him flowers once and Buck’s heartbroken and not at ALL jealous and then one day a few of them are playing a pick up game of basketball and Tommy stops by to see Eddie and they greet and kiss and Buck, without thinking, throws the ball squarely into Tommy’s head and levels him and Eddie is like ?????? and Buck can write it off as an accident, he was trying to pass the ball, he’s so sorry, etc. but then later Maddie says ‘it’s not like you meant to’ and bucks like
Chimney and Tommy friendship, Tevan, Madney, and hints at queer Chimney if you squint // G // 1771 // post-7x04
When Chimney learns about Buck and Tommy, he’s definitely surprised, for a few reasons. First, while he had suspicions about Buck, he’d always thought it would be Eddie that he ended up with if he was queer in some way, especially after that basketball game a few weeks ago. But also, he was kind of surprised he didn’t know about Tommy. He’d known him for so long, before anyone else in their group, and he thought surely he would have caught on at some point, right? In all the years working together, there would have at least been hints. There had to have been.
He’s idly thinking this over as he folds some laundry, basket perched on the edge of the coffee table as he retrieves the frankly stupid amount of little toddler rompers from the hamper and folds them into neat piles next to him on the couch. It’s late, nearing midnight, and Maddie’s on shift and Jee’s asleep, so he has time to himself to perseverate on the sexualities of his friends, because that’s a normal and totally hinged thing to do at 12AM on a Thursday.
He’s really not entirely sure why it matters, but he tries to recall those few years they had together at the 118 before Tommy jumped ship for the 217, tries to think about whether or not there were signs. He recalls that Tommy had said he had a girlfriend at one point, but they never met her. He also knows that Deluca often poked fun at him about a lot of things, his love life most certainly being one of them.
Thinking of Deluca sparks a particular memory, and he doesn’t know how he could possibly remember it, it was so inconsequential and stupid. Just a throwaway comment by someone who was really kind of dick.
They’d been at the table in the loft and he was barely paying attention, too interested in the taco he’d been shoveling into his mouth. They’d been talking about Twilight, and Deluca made some crass, off-hand comment about Tommy being a ‘Team Jacob kind of guy’ that Chinney had interpreted for him; “he’s insinuating that you’re gay”.
He hadn’t paid much mind then, but looking back he remembers now the flash of hurt that had passed across Tommy’s features before he blew a kiss at Deluca in retaliation. Chim had seen it as just two guys poking fun at each other, but with this new context it just kind of makes him sad.
Before he knows it, he’s picking his phone up from the table and firing a text off to Tommy.
Hey man, you awake?
It doesn’t take long for a reply to come through.
I am, everything okay?
Yeah, of course, I was just thinking about some things. Can you talk for a second?
He doesn’t get another reply this time, instead his phone lights up with an incoming call. He slides the bar to answer it before raising the device to his ear.
“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Hey Howie,” Tommy sounds tired, but alert, “you alright?”
“Can I ask you a potentially invasive question?” Chimney forgoes replying to Tommy’s concerned inquiry and jumps right to the point. Tommy huffs a small laugh.
“Go for it.”
“Back when we worked together, back in ‘06,” he starts, suddenly unsure but too far in it now, “did you know you were gay?”
There’s a beat of silence before Tommy hums in consideration, but he doesn’t reply. Chim worries his bottom lip a moment before he quickly speaks again.
“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business, I-”
“Hey, Howie,” Tommy doesn’t sound upset so he relaxes a little, “you said it’d be potentially invasive, it’s okay. Why do you ask, are you questioning some things about yourself?”
The question is lighthearted, probably not meant to be taken seriously, but he finds himself answering anyway.
“No, no, I’m not, I’m totally straight.”
“Mmhm.”
“I just was wondering,” he hesitates, “I don’t know, I was just thinking back and remembering some comments that were made…”
He doesn’t know how to end that sentence. He’s not even really sure what he’s hoping to accomplish out of this conversation, he just needs to know.
“Yes, I knew I was gay,” Tommy says softly, sounds of rustling coming across the speaker, “I knew but wasn’t really out to anyone.”
“I’d ask why you didn’t tell anyone,” Chimney starts with a sigh, “but Gerard was our captain so I get it.”
Tommy huffs out another laugh.
“Yeah, that was definitely part of it,” he says, words soft, musing, “but I’d also just come out of the army, where ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ was still very much in effect and it felt safer to just fly under the radar.”
“I can see that.”
They fall into a brief silence, the only sound being the TV on low playing some cooking show Chimney had hardly been paying attention to.
“I’m sorry,” Chim says softly, fingers playing idly with the strings of his hoodie. “I know I didn’t know, but it wasn’t an excuse. I can’t imagine how it must have felt.”
“Howie,” Tommy admonishes him gently, his tone light. “You’re right, you couldn’t have possibly known. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t treat you like shit for a while.”
“Yeah, I know but I get it now, I think,” Chimney shrugs even though Tommy can’t see him, “you were doing what you needed to, to just make it through.”
“Yeah, but,” Tommy pauses, like maybe he’s shrugging now, “like you said, it wasn’t an excuse.”
“If I had known then…”
“I know.” He can hear the smile in his voice, knows all is forgiven. Or maybe that there was nothing to forgive in the first place.
He hears more rustling and then a smack of a kiss over the speaker before a soft, sleep-rough voice speaks up.
“Hey, baby, who’re you talking to?”
It’s Buck, Chimney realizes. He doesn’t know if he’s at Tommy’s place, or if Tommy is at his, but it makes him smile. Buck has had such a hard go of it with relationships, and now seeing him with Tommy and seeing how light and free he is, it twists something in his chest. He’s just really happy for him.
“Just chatting with Howie,” Tommy tells him, voice distant now as if he’s pulled the phone away. “Go back to sleep.”
Another smack of lips, this time lasting a bit longer, has Chimney clearing his throat.
“As happy as I am for you both,” he says, “I don’t necessarily need to hear you macking on my brother-in-law.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tommy laughs softly. “We good, Howie?”
“Yeah,” Chimney nods, “we’re good. Thanks, man.”
A pause, and then, “hey Tommy?”
“Hm?”
“No matter what, you’ve always got a place with us, yeah?”
He releases a heavy sigh, like that’s not what he expected Chimney to say.
“Thank you.”
Chim smiles before adding, “unless you hurt Buck, in which case they’ll never find your body.”
Tommy barks out a sharp laugh that’s quickly muffled.
“Got it,” his voice is quieter now, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They say their goodbyes and Chimney leans back into the cushion, laundry long forgotten and the cooking show now moved on to a late-night shopping ad. He’s not sure how long he’s there, just thinking, but before long Maddie is making her way in the front door. She turns the corner of the front entryway and freezes for a moment at seeing Chimney there.
“You’re still up?” She sets her things down on the table and kicks her shoes off before heading over to the couch and sitting next to him. “Are you okay?”
He smiles, pulling her into a hug that has her laying her head against his chest. She snuggles in and gets comfortable, her legs drawing up and curling under her as she winds her arms around his middle.
“Yeah, everything’s good,” he tells her, fingertips scratching at her scalp. It leaves her basically purring, as it does anytime he plays with her hair. “Was just doing some laundry and lost track of time.”
“We should head to bed,” she tells him, though her words are already slurred as she is drawn closer and closer to sleep under his gentle ministrations. He leans down and kisses her head, burying his face there and smelling deeply. He relaxes at the scent of her lavender soap and closes his eyes, ready to doze off right there with her, their 40-year-old backs that would surely protest in the morning be damned.
“I love you,” he whispers into her hair, and he’s not even sure she hears him. She makes no indication that she did, just continues making small swirling patterns on his chest with her fingertips.
No matter how arduous the journey was to get here, he’s really, really happy he made it.
-
Buck stirs awake again at Tommy’s laugh. He tries to be annoyed at it, but he can’t find it in himself to be upset when that laugh fills his chest with joy every single time he hears it. He looks up from where his face is smushed into his belly to see Tommy muffling his laughter with his hand, the phone still drawn to his ear.
“Got it,” he smiles, and Buck’s stomach resolutely does not flutter at it, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Buck rests his cheek against Tommy’s side and waits for him to say his goodbyes and hang up the phone before he speaks.
“Was that still Chimney?”
“Mmhm,” Tommy brings a hand down and rakes his fingers through Buck’s hair, his nails scratching gently across his scalp. Buck’s eyes immediately flutter closed again, helpless against the blunt, rhythmic pressure. “He just had some questions about stuff from back when we worked together.”
“Hmm”. Buck is no longer interested, his entire focus now shifted to nothing but the feeling of Tommy’s nails against his skin. Tommy chuckles, the lilting sound a melody to Buck’s ears.
“You turn into a cat when I do this,” he whispers, bringing his other hand up to run his fingers down Buck’s arm that has wound its way across his midsection. “You’re so fucking cute.”
“I try,” Buck mumbles, the words lost in the fabric of Tommy’s sleep-soft t-shirt. Tommy says something else above him, he feels the words as they rumble through him, but he doesn’t know what they are. All he knows is the soft stillness of his apartment, the delicate movements of his boyfriend’s fingers across his skin, and the gentle pull back into sleep.
