no matter how hard it gets, i'll take the graveyard shift
Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz | 4.6k | Teen and Up Audiences | aka: evil doctor!buck fic
Summary: After waking up from the coma, Buck continues to have nightmares about the darkest parts of himself breaking to the surface.
Eddie’s hurt. He’s hurt and he’s broken and Buck can’t remember why- can’t remember what happened- but he knows it’s his fault. He knows he’s the reason Eddie is lying before him, bloodied and pale and his face twisted in pain instead of peaceful in his sleep.
His hand doesn’t hold Buck’s back, no matter how hard Buck squeezes it. His chest rises and falls, but his breaths are shallow. His eyelids flutter, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks, but they don’t open.
He’s okay, a voice inside Buck’s mind supplies, he’s alive, he’s stable. He’s okay.
He doesn’t look okay. And Buck doesn’t feel okay. Buck feels like he’s choking, his chest constricting around his heart, his ribs cracking under the invisible pressure and stabbing into the soft tissue they’re meant to protect, leaving him bleeding from the inside out.
Then Eddie’s eyelids flutter again, cracking open ever so slightly this time. His eyes, dazed with pain and drugs, land on Buck and the corner of his mouth lifts in a slow smile. His fingers twitch in Buck’s grasp.
“Buck,” he breathes, some of the pain leaving his face as he murmurs the name.
“Hey Eddie,” Buck chokes out, the tears stuck in his throat threatening to drown him. He knows what drowning feels like. He’s had water fill his lungs, leave no room for air or a scream to let loose. He knows what it is to not be able to breathe. He’s never felt it quite like this.
“Am I-?”
“Stable,” Buck cuts in. “You’re stable. They want to keep you at least overnight, probably through tomorrow.”
Eddie nods, once, his eyes falling closed again. Buck thinks he’s fallen back asleep and he starts to lower his own head to meet their conjoined hands, to press his lips to Eddie’s split knuckles and whisper a wordless prayer. He doesn’t quite know how to pray, if he’s being honest. He thinks to pray he would have to believe someone was listening.
The only person he wants to hear his prayers is Eddie.
“Chris,” Eddie murmurs, his voice slurring. “Y’gotta go home to Chris, Buck.”
Buck shakes his head, firmly. He’s already been through this in his own mind, every molecule of his body being pulled in two directions. One is home, taking care of the child that makes up half his heart. The other is here, beside the battered and bruised other half, holding his hand as if by doing that he could heal Eddie himself. “Carla is there. Bobby is going to go over. Everyone’s agreed to look out for him, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you alone.”
Eddie squeezes his head. “He needs you, Buck.” His face contorts for a moment, his brow furrowing and mouth curling into a pained grimace.
“I need you,” Buck whispers. And that- that feels like a prayer. It is a prayer, more holy than any words Buck could pull from the Bible or recite in a church.
Eddie squeezes his hand again, his grimace melting into a smile. “Hey, I’m right here. Okay? Not going anywhere. But I- I need you to be with Chris. Please, he needs a parent right now. He’s endured this too many times already.”
Buck’s breath catches in his throat at Eddie’s murmured confession, his blatant statement. It pierces Buck’s chest, expanding in the same way a flower blooms, the honey warm petals curling around his heart, protecting it from the fear trying to shred it to pieces.
“I’m not-,”
“You are,” Eddie insists, his voice the firmest it’s been since he woke up. Buck meets his gaze and it’s fierce, fully aware of what is being said. Eddie means this.
“Okay,” Buck breathes. “Okay. I’m going to take care of him Eddie, I swear. We’re going to be home, waiting for you to come back to us. Okay?”
Eddie only nods, his eyes falling shut again. Buck barely hears the whispered Thank you that falls from Eddie’s lips like a sigh.
Buck gives himself a couple more moments, studying Eddie’s sleeping face, more peaceful now than before, until he squeezes Eddie’s hand once, twice, and moves to his feet. He waits another moment to ensure the beeping of the monitors stays the same, then he turns and leaves. He feels the distance like a physical tether, connecting him to Eddie and growing tenser with each step he takes in the wrong direction.
But there’s another tendril, one connecting him to Chris even this far away, drawing him in and in further. Two lines, one heart. He wonders, briefly, if they’ll tear his heart in two. He doesn’t care.
Love doesn’t work like that. It sounds like Maddie’s voice in his mind. It’s not meant to hurt you, to tear you apart. Those lines don’t get cut, don’t get stretched too far. They are infinite. The tension is just a reminder they’re still there.
Buck lets out a slow breath as he walks down the hallway, further and further from Eddie’s room. The tension isn’t painful, Maddie’s voice is right. It’s just a gentle tug, a warm and constant reminder that Eddie’s still there.
A doctor passes Buck, bumping into his shoulder and continuing on without a word. And something- something feels off. Something twists in the pit of Buck’s stomach and bile rises in his throat and his hands start shaking and- he has to get to Eddie.
He can’t move. His feet are planted firmly to the floor, each desperate to run in the opposite direction.
Then two things happen in quick succession:
First, a text comes through on his phone. Automatically he checks it and nearly sobs in relief when he sees the photo from Bobby, of Chris fast asleep in his bed, his face sweet and innocent and peaceful.
Second, he hears a shout. It’s muffled, cut off, barely there. He almost thinks he imagined it. But the ringing in his ears promises he didn’t.
“Buck-!”
The tether snaps.
Eddie.
Buck spins on his heel and bolts down the hallway. It’s longer now- longer than when he came up it, Eddie grows further and further away as the tile expands under Buck’s feet.
He bursts into the room late- too late, too late. The monitor has flatlined, reduced to one deafening, monotonous tone.
Teen and Up Audiences | 2k | Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz
also on ao3
Five times Eddie yells for Buck and one time he whispers
or:
Eddie flashes back to the events of the night before while sitting in the hospital chapel. Bobby finds him there after awhile and the two have an important discussion about handling their new circumstance and what it means for them individually
5 times Eddie yells
Buck!
He didn’t know yet. He didn’t know that Buck was already dead, that yelling wouldn’t do any good. The first shout cracked open something in his chest, spilling poison into his veins. It didn’t matter that he was injured too- he was moving. Buck wasn’t. Buck wasn’t moving .
His world narrowed to one pinpoint- Buck hanging midair, not moving, not calling back to him. Nothing. Helpless, vulnerable. Bile rose in Eddie’s throat but he ignored it, starting to scramble up the ladder on shaking legs, gripping the sides with trembling hands as he tried to force himself to breathe.
It didn’t matter that he was essentially climbing up a lightning rod in the middle of the storm. Let lightning strike twice, he thought, let it take him out too. Just let him reach Buck first.
Buck!
He went up the ladder as quickly as he could manage, shouting, begging for any sign that Buck could hear him. He had lost his breath, he could barely manage the one word shout. I’m coming, it said, I’m coming for you, I swear.
His gaze didn’t stray even for a moment, desperate for any sign of life from the limp form of his best friend. His partner. His coparent. Chris’s second father. One of the two people in this world Eddie doesn’t think he can ever possibly live without.
Buck!
He was almost there, so close. Hang on, please, I’m almost there. I’m going to get you to safety. There was no response, still, as his voice broke and the plea tore its way from his throat, burning as it left and leaving an empty space inside him that was growing by the moment. Desperation clawed at his chest, tearing at his throat, flooding his veins with a burning chill that was worse than being hit by lightning.
Buck!
He was at the top now, looking over the edge at the lifeless body below him. He could see his face- barely. His expression was slack, not even a twitch. Nothing. He looked-
No. No, he’s not dead, he cannot be dead. Eddie shook his head, his breaths gasping pants now as he grabbed the line, yanking on it with everything he had. It wasn’t logical- he knows that, now- but at the time all he could think was in my arms, I need him in my arms. I need him to know I have him .
A sob ripped itself from him as he failed to pull his partner up, defeat beginning to cloud his brain, panic clawing at his throat, tears threatening to choke him.
Can you hear me?!
Buck!
A desperate plea, begging for any sign of life- anything to hold onto aside from the red line connecting him to the person that dragged him to safety when he was convinced he was drawing his last breath, who he reached for with the last of his strength, who saved his and his sons lives in more ways than Eddie can ever define.
Eddie has experienced the worst of what he thought the world had to throw at him. But this- this is the worst pain he has ever felt.
Need more slack!
He finally gave in, accepting that if he couldn’t pull Buck to himself, he could deliver him to the only other people he could ever trust with his life. He felt the distance between them as a physical force as it grew, the invisible tether that has always connected them straining as the red line grew longer, taking Buck further and further from Eddie.
He was choking on it, he couldn’t yell anymore. The further Buck got, the less he could breathe. Panic clouded his brain, blocking out anything that was not Buck’s lifeless form that kept getting smaller and smaller.
Buck! Buck, talk to me! Please, c’mon, come on Buck!
He doesn’t remember getting down the ladder. He doesn’t remember running toward the ambulance. The next thing he knew, he was shoving Bobby- shoving his Captain- aside, desperate to lay eyes on Buck. To see his chest rise and fall, to watch the breaths leave his mouth, to feel his pulse fluttering beneath his fingertips.
Bobby didn’t let him, holding him back and shoving him away. Eddie didn’t hear anything he said other than you’re driving! And Eddie- Eddie could do that. He could drive, he could get Buck to the hospital in time. Three minutes. That’s what Bobby said.
Eddie pulled into the hospital two minutes later, slamming the ambulance into gear and leaping from the car. He bolted around to the back, reaching the doors just in time for them to be taking Buck on. He knows he shoved someone- he doesn’t remember who- but it didn’t matter because he was on top of Buck, beginning compressions.
If Buck’s heart wasn’t going to beat on its own, Eddie would do it for him.
Then he was being pulled off, and voices were shouting, and it all became a blur. Bobby yanked him away as a nurse swore they would do all they could.
Not enough! Eddie wanted to shout, All you can isn’t enough unless you save him!
But his voice was raw and his throat burned and the words refused to come out as Bobby directed him away.
The last several hours have been a blur.
Eddie’s in the hospital’s chapel now.
He doesn’t remember coming here.
He doesn’t know why he’s here.
He hasn’t prayed in a long, long time. He decided- he’s not totally sure when- that if there was a God, He had nothing to offer Eddie but false hope and empty promises. He decided he would no longer beg someone who wasn’t listening for help, that he would never beg for help again. Not when he can help himself.
But he can’t help Buck.
So he’s here. His St. Christopher medal is clenched tightly in his fist, tears burn his eyes. His cheeks are wet and his throat is so raw from screaming and sobbing that even breathing hurts. He stares at his hand, at the St. Christopher medal resting in it. He doesn’t look up at the altar. He can’t.
He doesn’t think he wants to pray. He doesn’t know. He needs- he needs to do something. But praying now… it feels false, like a ploy to convince himself he’s somehow helping. But is faith really faith if it’s only for the security of knowing you’ve tried everything?
It all replays in his head, the shouts echoing in his mind on a continuous loop. If he closes his eyes, all he sees is Buck’s body- his corpse hanging from the line that Eddie clipped him to. The ladder Eddie let him go up. The rain falling all around them, beating down on Buck’s pale face. The flashing lights all around them. Everything a blur aside from the sharp focus on Buck.
He’s already thrown up at least once since they took Buck away, but nausea still twists in his stomach, acid rising in his throat. Clenching his jaw tightly, he closes his fist around the pendant, the edges biting into his skin. Saint of travelers, protective against sudden death. He and Chris were going to give Buck one for his next birthday. Eddie welcomes the pain, squeezing tighter as he clenches his jaw, silent tears dripping down his cheeks.
“You saved his life, Eddie.”
Eddie starts at the voice, jerking his head around just in time to see Bobby slide into the pew next to him. He looks like a wreck, his face exhausted and eyes bloodshot. Bobby doesn’t often look old, but right now he seems weighed down by his years, the lines in his face sharp and heavy. This is killing him, just as it’s killing Eddie.
“I failed him,” Eddie bites out, looking away again. “I fucking- he died, Bobby. I didn’t fucking save him.”
“His heart is beating now.”
“But he may never open his eyes again,” Eddie chokes out, tears flowing faster now as he lifts his fist to his forehead, hitting it lightly over and over. “He might never wake up.”
Bobby’s fingers wrap around Eddie’s wrist, pulling his fist away gently. Eddie starts to fight, but finds he doesn’t even have the energy to do that.
“You got to him in time, Eddie. That line saved him, gave him the chance he has now.”
“It should have been me.”
Bobby is silent for a moment and Eddie turns to look at him. He sighs deeply, then meets Eddie’s gaze. “That’s what Buck said. When you were shot. And before that, with the well. He begged me to let him go down after you when you cut your line.”
The breath is punched from Eddie’s lungs, escaping him in a sharp breath. “He-?”
“I told him no.” Bobby looks towards the altar. “I told him we didn’t need two cut lines. He was desperate, Eddie. We all- we thought you were dead. But we couldn’t tell him, not then. He was infuriated we would even imply you might not still be down there. You all think he’s dead. That’s what he said to me, when I told him we couldn’t dig our way to you. He looked- God, Eddie, he looked so betrayed that we might have lost even a bit of faith in finding you.”
“He never-” Eddie’s breathless, his head spinning. “He never- no one ever told me-”
“You found your way back to us, Eddie. To him. Now you have to trust he’s going to do the same.”
Eddie hasn’t stopped crying and a fresh wave of tears burns as they track down his face. His voice is small, broken, when he begs, “And what if he doesn’t?”
Bobby’s jaw ticks and his expression cracks and Eddie realizes how fucking unfair this is. Bobby has already lost two children, he can’t lose another. Eddie should be comforting him, not the other way around.
“I’m sorry, I-”
“No,” Bobby cuts him off, raising a hand. “No, we aren’t doing that. Not now, not yet. We have to believe. I’m going to pray. And you…” Bobby looks at him and his expression softens. “You should go to him, Eddie. You need to. You and Chris, if you think he’ll be up for it.”
“Buck would never want Chris to see him like this,” Eddie whispers, the thought shattering his heart.
“He needs to hear you, feel you. Both of you.” Bobby smiles a small, sad smile. “He needs to remember why he has to fight.”
Eddie draws in a sharp, shaky breath and nods. “Are you gonna be okay?”
Bobby turns his gaze back to the altar, his breath trembling as he inhales slowly. “I’m going to try. That’s all any of us can do right now, and we have to. For Buck.”
Eddie nods again, firmer this time. “For Buck.”
+1 time he whispers
Eddie settles into the chair beside Buck’s bed shakily, his hands trembling as he studies Buck’s face. This is… it’s all wrong. The tube breathing for him. The slack expression on his face. The hospital gown. The beeping machines. All of it. It’s wrong.
Usually, Buck looks peaceful when he sleeps. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite things, strange as that sounds. Watching the lines and anxiety disappear, fading into a sweet innocence and openness that Eddie can’t believe he’s allowed to witness.
Shakily, Eddie takes Buck’s hand between both of his, pressing the St. Christopher pendant into his palm and squeezing lightly. He lifts one hand to Buck’s forehead, gently brushing aside the loose curls. They’re free of gel right now, washed away by the rain. Eddie loves Buck’s natural hair, but right now all it does is send a sharp lance of pain through Eddie’s chest. He clasps Buck’s hand with both of his again, lowering his head to press his forehead against their joined hands.
“Please,” he whispers. “ Buck, please come back to me.”
Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them. + buddie!
well this got just slightly out of hand! please enjoy <3
Eddie doesn’t remember falling asleep. He’s not even entirely sure where he is as he wakes up slowly, groggily. It takes several seconds between when he becomes aware of his own consciousness and when he’s able to blearily force his eyes open.
In those few moments he becomes aware of three things: one, he’s not lying down. He’s sitting upright in what probably isn't the best position to have been sleeping in. Two, there’s voices nearby. They’re muted and unfamiliar and immediately have him set on edge. Three, a heavy, warm weight on his chest. It’s more soothing than anything else, and he realizes why when he finally manages to blink open his heavy eyelids.
The first thing he sees is golden curls, loosened from the long day they’ve had and dusted with a light layer of… ash?
It all comes back in an instant and white noise rings in Eddie’s ears, silencing the voices that he now realizes are just the television playing a random program. They’re in the loft of the firehouse, on the couch. And Buck is asleep, curled up and almost entirely on top of Eddie.
Some ash has fallen from his skin and hair, landing on Eddie’s clean undershirt. Eddie’s gaze zeroes in on the pale dust and everything else disappears. Even Buck’s warm weight on top of him fades away as the ringing in his ears grows louder, a chorus of roaring flame joining in.
He can feel his breaths coming quicker and his pulse hammers beneath his skin. Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s tightened his grip on Buck like a vice until a single sound breaks through the havoc in his mind; a confused, half-asleep whine from Buck at the near-pain of Eddie’s iron hand clamping down on his arms. Buck shifts, slowly coming to and Eddie yanks his hands away as if he was burned from the contact.
Eddie tries desperately to hold still, praying Buck will just slip back into sleep before Eddie can make this any worse. It doesn’t work. Because of course it doesn’t. It takes Buck one glance at Eddie’s face to be fully awake and alert. Instantly, Buck is moving, lifting some of his weight off of Eddie as he sits up. Eddie wants to whine at the loss of the comfort of having Buck pressed against him but the sound doesn’t make it past his throat. His jaw is clenched tight, the same as his fists which are now pressing into his thighs with Buck out of their way.
Buck looks at him with wide, concerned blue eyes and Eddie can see his soft pink lips moving, but the words aren’t reaching him. He knows being unresponsive will just make Buck more worried, so he pinches his eyes shut and shakes his head jerkily, trying to convey what his body won’t let him say.
Of course, somehow, Buck knows. The next moment, Buck is nudging Eddie’s hands aside and swinging one knee over both of Eddie’s thighs, settling down to straddle his lap and pressing his chest firmly against Eddie’s. He tucks his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there and then just breathing in and out slowly, so Eddie can feel every inhale and exhale as if they were his own. Buck’s hands bury themselves in Eddie’s short hair, his fingernails scraping along Eddie’s scalp all the way down to the base of his skull.
They stay like that for several long minutes before Eddie finally manages to slow his breathing, to lift his hands and clutch back tightly, fists clenching the back of Buck’s shirt. He turns his face down towards Buck’s, lips pressing into his temple and opening his eyes.
“You’re okay,” Buck whispers softly, shifting to press their foreheads together.
“I’m not the one who ran into a burning building without my full gear,” Eddie croaks back, his voice raw.
“I’m okay too.”
“You could have not been,” Eddie bites out, the words tumbling over one another. “You- you could have-”
“I didn’t.”
Eddie just shakes his head, clutching Buck tighter and closing his eyes again. He’s trembling slightly, so he’s not surprised when his voice does too. “You have to stop scaring me like that. I can’t do it.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Buck says softly, moving one hand to cup the side of Eddie’s face with a reverent gentleness. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I’m sorry.”
Eddie shakes his head again, feeling calmer with each passing moment. “Don’t be sorry. Be careful.”
“I know,” Buck repeats. “I am.” Eddie lets out a small huff and Buck tugs on his hair lightly. “I will be. But I know I’ve got you to watch my back.”
“Always,” Eddie breathes, pressing his forehead into Buck’s harder, their noses brushing together. Eddie opens his eyes again, meeting Buck’s bright blue gaze. He tilts his chin up, his lips ghosting across Buck’s lips. “You’ve got ash in your hair still.”
Buck grins slightly, shrugging one shoulder. “Thinking of making it my new look.”
“Not funn-” Eddie’s retort is silenced with a kiss from Buck, and he melts into it easily, sliding one hand up Buck’s back to tangle in his ashy hair.
They don’t mean to fall asleep like that again, but they do anyway.
Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz | 6.7k | teen and up audiences | read on ao3 | sequel
Buck gets an unfortunate call while driving and spirals before getting hit by a drunk driver. Surprise, coma!buck is real and can hear the things people (Eddie and Maddie) say while he's unconscious. Follows the struggles Buck deals with while trying to come back and the ones he has to face if he does.
6.07 spec, so the sperm donor issue is a Thing.
(inspired by this post)
-
Buck planned on telling Eddie. Really, he did. He was sitting in front of Conner and Kameron and hoping his smile looked real and thinking what am I gonna tell Eddie? And then he was at the station a few days later and Hen was watching him and Eddie was venting about Chris and it became more about how can he possibly tell this to Eddie?
How can Buck tell Eddie- Eddie, who still has guilt over leaving Chris when he was born- Eddie, who is the best father Buck thinks he’s ever met- Eddie, who will see right through Buck the moment he opens his mouth- how can he tell him what he’s agreed to? That he’s going to be a father who walks away. That he knows it’s going to kill him, but he’s doing it anyway because he can’t say no. That once again, he’s whittling his worth down to a mere collection of parts.
He can’t, is the conclusion he comes to. He can’t tell Eddie. Not yet, at least. Once… once the deed is done, then he’ll come clean. He’ll tell Eddie everything and he’ll close himself off to the pain because what’s done will be done and neither of them can change it. He’ll tell Eddie once it’s too late to back out, because Eddie is the one person that could give him that choice.
So Buck keeps it to himself. He pulls Hen aside during their shift and begs her not to say anything to anyone and she looks at him with those devastatingly caring eyes and touches his arm gently and asks, “Are you sure?” And Buck swallows his tears, puts on a smile, and nods. And Hen lets him go. He goes straight to the bathroom and throws up.
It’s an excruciating two weeks until his doctor’s appointment. He barely speaks to the team. Hen’s giving him space, the only one who knows what he’s dealing with. Chim has seemingly picked up on her behavior and hasn’t pressed Buck. Bobby called him into his office a couple times, asking if he’s alright.
Buck’s been smiling and saying, “Fine, Cap. Just something I’m trying to figure out.” And Bobby’s been giving him a look like he knows something, smiling a little, and telling Buck he’s proud of him. Which… okay, it’s nice to hear, but Buck’s got no idea what he’s referring to. He even asked Hen if she told Bobby anything and she swore she hadn’t. Buck shrugged it off.
The main issue has been Eddie. Once everything blew over with Chris, it became increasingly hard to keep this from Eddie. Eddie… he sees Buck, sees right through him. No- not through him. Buck’s parent’s saw through him, like he was nothing but a ghost, haunting them. Which, in a way, he supposes he was. No, Eddie looks into Buck. Like he’s peeling back the layers to peer right into Buck’s very core, taking his defenses apart piece by piece and leaving him bare, everything laid out for Eddie to pick through and place back together.
Hiding something from Eddie is awful. Because it means Buck can hardly even talk to him. It takes one look and Buck wants desperately to spill his guts, to confess his all sins and have them cleansed away with soft words and gentle touches. He’s been avoiding Eddie, for the most part. He knows it’s hurting Eddie. It’s hurting him. It’s an actual, physical pain. An aching, sharp and hollow in his chest. A burning, gathering in his throat and spreading through his veins.
Eddie’s tried talking to him. He’s begged Buck to tell him was wrong, bribed him with dinners with Chris and activities- family activities. Usually, Buck’s defenseless against those. But… now they make a wave of nausea crest in his gut and tears burn behind his eyes. It’s something he’ll never have, not really. He can play pretend with his Diaz boys all he wants, but when it comes down to it- when it comes down to it, he’s not one of them. Not in the way he wants to be.
And he wants, he wants so bad. He wants to come home every night to them, to wake up with them every morning. He wants to kiss away Eddie’s pout everytime something goes wrong between them, he wants to promise Chris that no matter how mad Eddie might seem, it’s only because he loves him and he’ll calm down. He wants to be there so Eddie doesn’t always have to be the bad cop, he wants to be there whenever Chris has something he feels he can’t tell his dad. He wants to cook them family dinners each night and shop for their groceries and kiss them both goodnight and take care of them when they’re sick. Buck wants. He wants it all, so badly it threatens to crush him sometimes when he remembers he’ll never get it.
But he doesn’t want anyone else, either.
He’s come to that conclusion after many, many hours of thinking about what in his life will actually make him happy. Girlfriends never have. His job does, but it’s not enough. His family does, but not in the way he needs. The closest he’s ever gotten is the few shining moments he’s had with his Diaz boys when it seems like maybe, just maybe, he could belong to them. He doesn’t want anyone else.
He realized that after a conversation with Hen about being Conner and Kameron’s donor.
“Are you really sure this is what you want, Buck?” she’d asked again. She’d asked countless times over the past couple weeks, and Buck had always nonend. This time, though, she’d pressed. “Why? I know you love to help people but- there’s got to be more to this, Buck.”
And he’d been a little tipsy, so he’d sighed heavily and said, “I’ve always- I’ve always wanted a kid of my own. Like, one I made, y’know? And… I know they won’t really be mine, but… it’s looking like the only chance I’ll get.”
“Buck,” she’d murmured, “There’s someone out there, someone for you.” Yeah, Buck thought, he’s about a ten minute drive away. “You’ll find them eventually.”
“No,” Buck breathed, shaking his head. Because he’s already found them. And he can never have them. “No, I don’t- this is my chance.” Something in his voice must have indicated he didn’t want to talk about it, because Hen dropped it.
Buck wants Eddie. He doesn’t want the next best thing, and it wouldn’t be fair to whoever that is. He’s going to die exactly how he’s living, half in Eddie’s world and half on his own. One foot inside the house, one foot inside the fire station. He’s trying to accept it.
Two and a half weeks after he sat in front of his friend and promised him his child, Buck’s heart feels about ready to beat out of his chest as he walks towards the doctor’s office. Vaguely, he wonders if he’s having a panic attack. He shakes his head at himself. No, no, he’s fine. He’s fine. He’s gonna go in there, get this done, and then walk away. Just like he agreed. He’s also definitely, definitely not going to think about Eddie.
It’s hard not to, though, because he convinced himself to say yes to Eddie’s invitation to dinner and movie night at the Diaz house tomorrow night. He’s going to tell Eddie. Tomorrow, he’s going to tell Eddie. Once the sample has been processed, once there’s no backing out. Yeah.
He takes a deep breath and opens the door to the doctor’s office. It’s going to be fine.
-
Buck spends the next twenty-four hours in a numb, detached state. He barely sleeps. He goes through the motions of his life. He deep cleans his entire loft because he has the day off but he has to do something. He reads a third of the newest self-help books he’s found, but sitting still allows the nauseous feeling in his gut to build and threaten to overwhelm him. He goes to the gym and pushes himself to almost dangerous levels, until two of the other patrons have to run over and lift off the barbell that’s attempting to crush his throat. He takes that as a sign to go home. He remakes his bed three times until you could bounce a coin off it, reorganizes his book shelf, even cleans his toilet.
Finally, mercifully, the clock hits 5:45 and it’s time to head over to Eddie’s. Climbing in the jeep, his stomach rumbles and he absently realizes he hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. Hopefully Eddie’s made something good. His cooking has improved a lot lately, but he’ll still occasionally produce something that Chris often likens to an “old shoe.”
He only makes it a few blocks before he gets the call. His phone starts ringing and Buck taps the car display, answering without looking at the caller ID. An unfamiliar voice crackles through the jeep’s audio system.
“Is this Mr. Evan Buckley?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah that’s me. Buck is fine.”
“Hello Mr. Buckley, this is Dr. Alice Offley.”
“Oh! Doctor, of course, hello. Is everything alright?”
“I-” she hesitates and Buck’s heart begins to sink. “There’s no easy way to say this, Mr. Buckley, but I have some concerns regarding your medical history that I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Y-yeah,” Buck whispers. “Yeah, of course.”
“It says here you’ve suffered both a pulmonary embolism as well as blood clots as recently as 2019?”
“Yes, yeah, but that was- that was a firefighting incident, I’m fine now.”
The doctor only hums thoughtfully. Then, “And there’s a history of cancer in your family?” Buck’s blood runs cold, his heart settling in the pit of his stomach.
“Y-yeah,” he chokes out. “Is that- does that mean I can’t-”
“It means I’ll have to let your recipients know. There are some very serious risks involved that they need to be made aware of.”
“Y-you mean th-the kid could-”
“The child conceived from your DNA could be genetically predisposed to be at risk for cancer, specifically pediatric leukemia.”
The world goes mute. White noise rings in Buck’s ears. The road in front of him blurs. He must hang up, because the screen goes dark. Tears burn his eyes. His chest feels like it’s caving in on itself, compressing his heart tighter and tighter until it’s about to burst. He can’t breathe, he can’t see, he can’t hear. Everything has gone muted and numb and this can’t be real. It feels like- it feels like he’s being crushed by the firetruck again, but this time there’s no one here to hold his hand.
And then the impact slams him sideways and his head hits the steering wheel and it feels like nothing at all.
-
Gaining consciousness is a struggle. The darkness calls to him, soothing and alluring and gentle. The blaring horn is the only thing he can latch onto to drag himself out of it. The sound is deafening and nonstop. It’s- it’s coming from his car, he realizes. He can’t see anything, even as he fights to open his eyes. The world swims in and out of view and it’s dark, it’s all dark. Every part of his body hurts. As much as he struggles, he can’t move and he can’t remember what happened.
“H-he-hey S-Siri,” he croaks out. The small chime sounds and relief blooms in his chest. “Call 911.”
The line only rings twice before a male voice answers, “911, what’s your emergency?”
“M-Maddie Buckley,” he gasps.
“I’m sorry sir, what was that?”
“Operator Maddie Buckley,” he begs, his voice breaking into a sob. “Please, please. Maddie.” The line clicks and then,
“Hello?” Buck whimpers out a sob of relief. “This is Maddie, who is this?”
“Mads,” Buck chokes. “Maddie.”
“Buck?” Panic creeps into her voice. “Evan is that you?”
“Accident,” his words are growing slurred and he realizes he doesn’t have long. “I need- I need you t-to call-” He coughs, gasping in breaths as the pain begins to overwhelm him. His vision swims and his breathing is ragged, raspy, pained. “Call Eddie.”
“Evan, where are you?” Maddie pleads, nearly hysteric.
“Please,” he cries. “Please, promise me. Promise me you’ll tell him-”
“Evan, stop.”
“Maddie, listen,” he gasps. “You have to promise me, promise you’ll tell him I’m sorry.”
“No.” Buck can hear the tears in her voice. “No, no. No. You- you can tell him yourself. No.”
“Maddie, I love you. But I need you to promise me you’ll tell him, and tell Chris. Tell them- tell them I loved them a-and I’m sorry, god, I’m so sorry.” His words are slow now, and he can only hope they’re clear enough for her to hear him. She knows, though. He knows she knows. She’ll tell them. But still, he whispers, “Promise me.”
“I promise,” Maddie sobs. “But Evan, I need you to stay with me. Please, please don’t leave me. Stay awake, come on baby brother.”
“I love you. ‘M s’rry,” Buck slurs, and then he lets go and the darkness swallows him. He doesn’t even hear the last thing he whispers, “I think I’d have been a good dad.”
-
There’s a hand in his. Rough and warm, calluses brushing against his skin, holding onto him tightly. This is the first thing he’s aware of. The next is the beeping. Monotonous and steady, repetitive. It’s a familiar sound, but he can’t place it. Third is the smell. Again, he can’t place it. But it’s earthy and sweet and just… the only word that comes to him is home.
He’s floating, not really anywhere at all. He’s not in the blackness anymore. Now it’s more gray. He can’t feel anything except the hand holding his. Then the hand shifts, pulling his up, and soft lips brush against his knuckles. The lips slide over his fingers and then a cheek, damp with tears, is resting against their joined hands.
He hears a sniffle, small and heartbroken. He wants to reach out, to wipe away the tears, to kiss away the crying. Then the person clears their throat. When they talk, the voice comes out gravelly and rough.
“I need you to wake up, Buck.” It’s more a plea than a command, heavy with grief. “Please. Please, I- I don’t- I can’t do this without you, man. Any of it. Please wake up. Please.” And Buck wants to. He wants to come back to this person whose name flits from his grasp but he knows he loves more than anything in this world. He wants to do whatever it takes to take the pain out of their voice.
There’s a shaky, tearful sigh, and then there’s a hand on his forehead, adjusting his curls gently, fingertips brushing his skin. “It wasn’t your fault. Maddie- Maddie said that you kept saying sorry. That she was begging you to tell her where you were, but you just… kept saying sorry. Sorry to me. Me and Chris. Like- like you thought we’d blame you. She said you used every breath you had trying to reach us.” The tears are coming now, dripping onto Buck’s skin and rolling toward his wrist.
The person takes a deep, broken up breath. “She said it was almost too late when they got to you. You almost- you almost didn’t- you almost didn’t make it, Evan.” The words are hitching, threaded with stifled sobs. “You still might not, and I don’t know what the hell happens if you don’t. I can’t- I can’t tell him, Buck. I can’t tell him he’s never going to see you again.”
Buck strains, aching to scream I’m here! He’s going to see me! The effort makes the grayness spin and darken, everything growing farther away. He can’t feel the hand as solidly now, the beeping is dulled. He still fights because he doesn’t want to leave, not right now. He wants to hear what else this person’s going to say to him.
But he loses his battle, slipping back into the blackness. He doesn’t hear Eddie say, “How can I tell him he’s never going to see his father again?”
-
It feels more solid the next time Buck reaches the surface. He feels steadier, a little less like he’s floating. There’s a hand in his again. There’s the same beeping. The same scent hovering around him. But now he can feel the soft sheets beneath his other hand, the pillow supporting his head. He’s closer.
The voice comes again, and he can taste the name on his tongue. “It’s been a week. They- they don’t know if you’re going to wake up. They say the longer it takes, the less likely it is. I don’t- I don’t want to believe them, Buck. Th-they don’t know you. They don’t know that you are a fighter and that there’s no way in hell you’re going to leave your family, not like this. You- you’re not- you’re not gonna leave me, Buck. You’re not. You didn’t- you didn’t drag me out of that street two years ago just to- to die on me before I get the chance to tell you…”
Tell me what?! Buck wants to scream, but his body won’t obey him.
“No,” the voice says, as if they heard Buck. “No, I’ll tell you when you wake up. I’m not… I’m not saying this until you can say it back.” There’s a shifting nearby and then the hand squeezes his own and those same soft lips brush Buck’s forehead, pressing the softest of kisses into his skin. “Please come back so I can tell you. Please.”
There’s silence for a few moments as Buck struggles to no avail. Then, “Chris misses you.” A face flashes in Buck’s mind. Curly hair, like his. Blue eyes, just a few shades off from his own. Glasses. Big, goofy grin. For a beat, he thinks he’s seeing the child he could have had. Then- no, the name sinks in and no, this isn’t his kid. It’s just the one he wishes was his. “He’s been asking about you, if he can see you. I- I keep telling him no. You- you wouldn’t want him to see you like this, when you can’t respond. I know that. But.. it’s hard Buck,” he admits, his voice breaking, “it’s so hard. I don’t want the next time he sees you to be… to be at a funeral. I really, really need you to come back.”
It’s more painful than the crash itself when Buck realizes he can’t do what the voice is asking.
-
The third time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the hand in his is different. It’s smaller, more delicate. Softer, lacking the callouses. The voice is sweeter and less rough, sadder, when the person speaks.
“Hi Evan. I, um,” there’s a small laugh, “I’m never really sure if you can hear me. Eddie changes his mind every time he tries to talk to you. But- I just- I wanted you to know. I’ll tell you again, when you wake up.” A pause. “If you wake up, I guess. But it- it might bring you some peace, I think. I told them, Evan. Just like- like you asked me to. I told Eddie first and he said I could talk to Chris. I rephrased a bit cause you weren’t- you weren’t all that lucid, y’know? But I- I knew what you wanted and I did it, I think. I hope. They knew already, of course they did. But he still… Eddie wanted- wanted to hear the call, Evan. I know- I know you wouldn’t have wanted him to hear you like that but… He’s grieving. I couldn’t say no, couldn’t keep that from him.”
There’s a small, short, teary laugh and then a chin is propped on their joined hands. Similar to the first time he came to, a hand brushes over his forehead. The fingers are softer and nails lightly scratch over his skin. “I hope you’re not mad when you wake up. It’s gonna be a when, yeah Evan? They- they tell me I should get used to saying if. I don’t want to. I want to believe you’re fighting, that you’re gonna come back to me. To them.” A heavy sigh. “I love you, baby brother.”
-
The first voice is back, gruff and warm and spreading through Buck like the glow of sunlight.The first thing he hears is, “I listened to the call. I- I made Maddie let me, so if you’re gonna be pissed at someone when you wake up, be pissed at me. I just… I had to hear it.” A sad, bitter laugh. The voice turns wet with tears, thick with emotion. Something in Buck’s soul aches. “Y-you were- you were choking on your own blood, Buck. I could hear it, over the phone. And still apologizing. Begging to be forgiven. While you were drowning in your own blood, bleeding out in your car on your own. Begging- begging for me. And shit, I was just like ten minutes away, man. But I wasn’t- I wasn’t there.”
Buck’s hands are clasped between two of the rough, calloused ones. They squeeze his fingers and something wet splatters on his skin. Tears, he realizes dimly. The person is crying, breaths hitching as they struggle to talk. “You needed me, and I wasn’t there. I didn’t- I didn’t even know until Maddie called me. And by the time I got there… you looked dead, Evan. I thought you were dead. But they- they were loading you into the ambulance.” A wet laugh. “They tried to stop me. Tried to hold me back. Didn’t work very well. I think I gave Hernandez a black eye. You remember Hernandez, yeah? From the C shift. He finally recognized me and let me through. They barely let me ride in the ambulance with you, but I threatened to call Bobby and no one wanted to fight that bad. Plus… you were in really bad shape. There was no time to argue.”
The hands shift, one leaving his and landing on his cheek, cradling his face softly, fingertips barely brushing over skin. “I thought you might die on the ride. Then in surgery. Then after, when you didn’t wake up. I still- you still might. They’ve been telling us to say if a lot. If you recover fully. If you remember anything. If you wake up at all. Maddie’s been trying. The rest of the crew, too. I can’t- I can’t bring myself to. It feels… it feels like I’d be giving up on you. Because you are going to wake up. You’re gonna come back to me, yeah?” The fingers skim up his face, brushing through his hair.
“You just have to fight, cariño,” the voice whispers.
Buck doesn’t know how much fight he has left.
-
The next time Buck brushes with consciousness, the hand isn’t there. Buck panics, though he’s not sure why. He can feel more this time, the weight of his own body, a pricking sensation in his arm. The bed under him, the air on his skin. He’s so, so close.
There’s a soft breath beside him and then fingers are intertwining with his and Buck feels like he breathes for the first time in he doesn’t know how long.
“Hey Buck.” It’s the same voice, but this time when the name comes to him, Buck latches onto it like a lifeline, pulls it close to him and cradles it in his mind. Eddie. “I don’t even know if you’re hearing me. The doctors say it’s likely you can but… I dunno. I feel like- like if you could hear me, you’d come back. It’s stupid, yeah, I know. But- listen, Buck. If you can hear me, don’t- don’t even try to say anything, yeah? Just- just-” He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand. Please.” Eddie squeezes his hand as if to show him what he means. Then there’s a weight on his hip and he realizes it’s Eddie, resting his forehead against Buck’s body. “Please, Evan, just squeeze my hand.”
And Buck does.
-
It doesn’t happen how Buck thought it would. He doesn’t squeeze Eddie’s hand and open his eyes and everything’s fine. No, he squeezes Eddie’s hand and he hears Eddie shocked, “Buck?” and then the darkness swallows him immediately.
The hand is still in his when he comes to again. He tests his boundaries, asking his fingers to twitch. They do, and the hand squeezes back instantly.
“Buck?” Eddie’s voice is almost crystal clear now and Buck feels as if he might cry. But his eyes won’t open and his body still won’t obey him, not even his tear ducts. All he can do is squeeze the fingers in his. “Buck, it’s me, I’m right here.” Eddie sounds almost giddy with disbelief and Buck squeezes his hand again, elated to offer any semblance of relief and always desperate to make Eddie smile.
“He’s awake!” Eddie’s voice calls. Immediately, a door is opening and there's feet shuffling and voices filling the room. Buck can barely filter them and all he can think is no I’m not. If he was awake, his eyes would be open. His body would listen to him. A panic seizes him suddenly and he starts rapidly squeezing Eddie’s hand, frantic. He can’t live like this, not if he’s not going to get better. He would rather die.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Eddie gently shushes him, squeezing back and setting a hand on his face, stroking his skin softly. “It’s okay, alright? Doctor Hersen is gonna explain a little.”
“Firefighter Buckley, can you hear me?” A new, older, strict voice reaches Buck. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once.
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “Yeah, he can.”
The doctor makes a soft humming sound. “Can you do anything else? Open your eyes, control how long you’re conscious?” Buck doesn’t move. He can’t answer. “Let’s try this; one squeeze for yes, two for no until you recover a bit more, alright? Because you will continue to recover, Evan. You just have to be patient with yourself.” Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand once.
“He gets it.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
Two squeezes and Eddie relays the answer.
“Alright, that’s a potentially triggering subject to expose you to, so we’re going to refrain until you’re a bit more stable. Do you remember who you are?”
One squeeze.
“Do you-” That’s Eddie’s voice, cutting in. He clears his throat, fear creeping into his words. “D’you remember who I am?”
One squeeze and Eddie lets out a long, relieved breath. Immediately, half a dozen voices start up again. Buck can’t isolate them, can’t understand them all. Panic starts seizing him again and he’s powerless to do anything but move his left hand, so he starts shaking. His hand, then his whole body is trembling.
“Stop talking!” Eddie orders immediately, resuming the soothing stroking of Buck’s skin. “Everyone- everyone has to get out, it’s freaking him out.”
The clamoring doesn’t stop and Buck searches for the darkness this time, yearning for the peace. It takes him in willingly and he manages one last weak squeeze of Eddie’s hand before he drifts off.
-
The squeezing lasts what feels like maybe a day to Buck. They ask him lots of questions. Some he understands and can answer. Some he understands but can’t answer. Some are just a blur. Memories start coming back, bits and flashes. Getting the call, though he can’t determine who it was he was talking to. The car slamming into him. Calling 911. Talking to Maddie. The 911 call is the most frustrating to remember. He knows he asked for Maddie. He recalls begging her to tell Eddie he was sorry, that he loved them all. But that’s- that’s it. From the sound of it, it was worse than he remembers. It’s probably a good thing. All of it- it’s all just a jumbled mess, but he’s slowly piecing it together, fragment by fragment.
And then one time, he comes back to the surface and he feels Eddie’s hand in his and he smells Eddie’s body wash and he turns his head and he opens his eyes and there he is. Eddie. By his bed, as he has been for god knows how long. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair messy and several days of stubble shadowing his jaw. He’s never looked more beautiful. His eyes are closed, like he might be asleep.
Buck squeezes his hand and tries to say something, but all that comes out is a hollow croak, somewhere between a moan and a wheeze. Eddie’s eyes fly open and tears well immediately.
“Buck.” It comes out choked, heavy with shock and disbelief, squeezing his hand so hard it hurts and reaching a hand toward his face. He stops just short of touching Buck’s skin, but Buck gives him a short, jerky nod and Eddie’s hand lands on the side of his face, brushing his thumb over his cheek and wiping away the tear that has already fallen as Eddie pitches forward, burying his face in the crook of Buck’s neck and holding onto him for dear life. His tears wet the skin of Buck’s neck, but he couldn’t care less as he grips Eddie’s hand back like a vice.
He tries to speak again, to ask for something to drink, but only lets out another croak. Eddie jerks back instantly. “Water,” he says, nodding. “Water, water, yeah of course.” Something bursts in Buck’s chest at Eddie’s immediate understanding of what Buck needs. The hand leaves his face but he can’t mourn the loss, because Eddie grabs a cup and brings it to Buck’s lips and the water trickles into his mouth and down his parched throat and Buck lurches forward, forcing Eddie to tilt the cup forward and let him drink it all in one go.
When the cup is drained, Eddie pulls it away and then simply waits, his eyes searching Buck’s face. Buck breathes for a moment, then lets the corner of his mouth turn up.
“Hey,” he says. His voice is hoarse from unuse, but Eddie looks at him like it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.
“Hey,” he chokes out around his tears. “Th-the others will wanna know-”
“In a minute,” Buck cuts in. “Just…” he brushes his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “In a minute…”
“I didn’t know if I’d ever see your eyes again,” Eddie says after a beat. “It sounds strange but-”
“It doesn’t,” Buck promises, looking at Eddie again, feeling his lips form a wide smile. “Not to me.”
Eddie just swallows hard and nods, shifting to clasp Buck’s hand between his.
“I heard you,” Buck tells him. “Not- not all the time, I don’t think. But… I heard you.”
Tears threaten to spill past Eddie’s lashes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. “You- you had something to tell me? Once I was awake, you said.”
A look of surprise crosses Eddie’s face and he blinks once, twice. Then he opens his mouth and-
The door opens. A tall man in a white coat steps inside as Eddie turns to look. The man spots Buck and his eyes widen in surprise.
“He’s awake.” That’s the third voice Buck heard, the doctor. He steps forward in three swift steps, holding out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Buckley, I’m Doctor-”
“Buck is fine,” Buck interrupts, smiling but making no move to let go of Eddie’s hand and shake the man’s.
Buck is fine. The words echo in his ears and he feels his brows draw together. Buck is fine. And then it all comes rushing back. The call, the test results, the crash. Doctor Offley telling him any children he has may be at risk for leukemia. The icy, electric realization that the one life he was brought into this world to save is also the very reason he cannot ever bring another life into it.
A shock runs through Buck and whatever the doctor is saying now is lost to him as his ears start ringing and the world starts spinning. He can’t do this, he can’t- he- he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to recover from this, why he should recover from this-
“Buck,” Edide’s voice cuts through the panic, his hands squeezing Buck’s tightly. “Buck what’s going on?”
“I- I can’t-” He can’t breathe.
Distantly, he hears Eddie say. “Doctor, could you…?” And then, “Okay, Buck it’s just you and me. Breathe, c’mon, breathe with me, bud. Deep breaths, okay? In… out… in…” he continues for several breaths until Buck feels somewhat more grounded and looks at Eddie again.
“Sorry,” he stammers out. “I- I’m sorry.”
Eddie shakes his head, shushing him. “Nothing to apologize for, Evan. You can let yourself not be okay for a while. You- you almost died.” His voice cracks. “You could have died.”
Buck lets out a soft, dry snort, dropping his head back. “Yeah. What a shame that would’ve been.”
Eddie doesn’t even know how to reply to that. The words stick in his throat, held back by the sudden, icy fear clawing up his neck. He’s known something’s been wrong with Buck for a while. But maybe- maybe it’s way worse than what Eddie ever imagined.
“Wh- what- how could you even say that, Buck?”
Tears well in Buck’s eyes, making his vision swim as he stares straight ahead at the ceiling. “I’m broken, Eddie. They should- I should fuckin’ donate my body to science so they can figure out what made me defective. Cause there- there’s something broken in me. It’s- it’s why I couldn’t save Daniel. Why any child I have will suffer the same fate he did.”
“Buck, what are you talking about?” Eddie begs, lost beyond belief. Buck lets out a long sigh. This definitely isn't how he planned on telling him.
“I agreed to be a sperm donor,” he says. “For my friend, Conner, and his wife. They- they want to have a kid and they can’t so- so they asked me and I- I agreed.” The tears spill over, dripping down his face.
“Buck,” Eddie breathes, and he sounds so sad it shatters something deep in Buck’s chest. His breath hitches with a barely contained sob. “Why? Why would you- why would you agree to that? You could never be-”
“A father,” Buck finishes. Eddie shakes his head.
“A father who walks away. A parent who doesn’t know his child.” Of course Eddie cuts right to the core of it in less than a minute, slices Buck open and reveals the very thing that has been tormenting him since he said yes.
“It’s the only chance I was gonna get,” Buck whispers, too tired to even try and lie.
“Buck, what do you even- how can you think that?”
“Because it’s true.”
Eddie just shakes his head. He’ll deal with that in a minute. But for now… “Why wouldn’t you tell me? You’ve been struggling with this for- who knows how long-”
“Almost three weeks before the accident,” Buck offers.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
Buck hesitates for a long moment, but the answer comes out of its own volition. “I didn’t… I couldn’t handle disappointing you.”
“Buck,” Eddie whispers, and he sounds absolutely heartbroken by Buck’s confession. Buck forces himself to look at him, at the tears turning Eddie’s eyes into shining crystals. “Sweetheart, you could never disappoint me, okay? If you- if you really wanted this, I’d have supported it.” Even as the term of endearment causes a burst of warmth in his chest, Buck’s gaze flicks away and Eddie frowns slightly. “That wasn’t the problem, was it?” He can’t answer. “You were afraid I would see how much this is breaking you, that I would help you not do it.”
“I had to,” Buck chokes out. “I had to do it.”
“Because it’s your only chance to have a child?”
Buck nods.
“Bullshit.” It comes out a growl, tinged with anger. “Bull shit, Buck. For the love of- you already have a child, Evan.” Buck’s eyes snap to him, his expression struggling between shock, confusion, and hope. Eddie sets his hand back on the side of Buck’s face. He lets out a teary laugh, shaking his head and looking at Buck with pure adoration in his eyes. “What the fuck did you think my making you Chris’s legal guardian was?”
Buck just stares at him for several breaths until he realizes Eddie expects an actual answer. “That I’m- that I’m a backup?” he offers weakly. Eddie just shakes his head again, tears dripping down his cheeks even as a wide smile splits his face.
“You’re an idiot, sometimes.” Buck blinks, taken aback. “Evan Buckley, you have been a second father to that kid since the very moment you met him. Even you can’t possibly have missed that.”
“I thought- I just thought-”
“He tells people at school he has two dads, Buck. He has since we built him that skateboard and he went into class the next day and proclaimed that ‘his dads made him a skateboard’ and I got a very confused call from a very frazzled Ana.” And Buck’s crying, but he can’t help but laugh at the image. “You’re his dad, Buck.”
“But you-”
“Yeah, I’m his father. I’m all he had for a while. We were doing alright. But there was always… there was always something missing.” His fingers card through the hair on the side of Buck’s head. “You. You were missing. You came barrelling into our lives and you filled the hole we had been convincing ourselves didn’t exist. It was you, Buck. You make our family whole. You’re everything we ever needed, everything I ever wanted.”
Buck starts. “Everything- everything you wanted?”
Eddie grins. “Ask me what I had to tell you.”
“Eddie, what-”
“Ask me.”
Buck takes in a shaky breath, neither of them breaking their locked gaze. “What were you gonna tell me when I woke up, Eddie?”
“That I am completely and madly and foolishly and embarrassingly and entirely head over heels in love with you, Evan Buckley.”
The breath catches in Buck’s throat and there are tears welling in his eyes again and this doesn’t even feel real. He lets out a short, disbelieving, shocked laugh. “You love me?” It comes out as a whisper, as if he fears if he were any louder, it would shatter the spell.
“Wholly and completely, Buck.” Buck just stares at him, face breaking into a wide grin. “You got a response or…?”
“I think you should kiss me,” Buck says. “I think you should kiss me right now.”
And, well, Eddie really didn’t need to be told the second time. He’s gentle, careful, cradling Buck’s jaw in his hand and kissing him slowly, softly. He’s mindful of Buck’s bruises even as their fingers twist together and his fingertips press into Buck’s jaw, tilting his head to get just the right angle and it’s so fucking perfect Buck could cry. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and more. If only he’d known…
Eddie pulls back after what feels like an eternity, searching Buck’s eyes. “What are you thinking right now?”
“That if I knew getting hit by a car was all it took to get you to kiss me, I’d have done that years ago,” Buck replies. Eddie lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head as Buck grins. Buck takes his free hand and tilts Eddie’s face back towards his, fingertips under his jaw. “And that I love you more than I thought was humanly possible. That our family is everything I’ve ever wanted and more, that it was something I didn’t think I’d ever get.”
Eddie leans forward, resting his forehead against Buck’s. His lips brush Buck’s nose. “I think you’ve had it a lot longer than you know.”
“I think you’re right,” Buck breathes. “And all it took to realize that was a week-long coma.”
(and also inspiration saturday, fuck it friday, wip wednesday, and every single thing my lovely mutuals have tagged me in during my little hiatus, thank you all for keeping me included 💜)
i finally have some new texas au!!! i’ve done a fair bit of writing it lately but the other night i was almost all the way asleep when i bolted upright at like 2:30 am and wrote this snippet. im FINALLY working my way out of childhood so they’re tentatively (might retcon) 15 and 16 here:
Eddie’s sitting out on the roof, his face turned towards the moon. He doesn’t move as Buck eases open the window
“Eddie?”
He turns at his name, just slightly, just so Buck can see the side of his face, his profile silhouetted by the dark sky and partially lit by moonlight.
“What’re you doing out there?”
Eddie shrugs, turning back to the moon. “Not much.”
“Were you planning on coming in? Or, like, even telling me you’re here?”
“Probably not.” Buck can see Eddies entire body rise and fall with a big breath, then he shakes his head. “No.”
“Eddie, man, you’re wigging me out. What’s going on?”
“I just-“ Eddie’s entire body seems to shudder and he drops his head, a heavy sigh escaping him. He seems to deflate as his breath puffs out and fear spikes through Buck, but he’s frozen in place. “I just needed to breathe, Buck.”
Bucks chest tightens, but he forces out a small chuckle. “You know you can do that inside too, right?”
Eddie shakes his head again. “I didn’t wanna disturb you.”
“So your plan was just to lurk on my roof?” Eddie repeats his shrug. “Alright, what’s going on, Eddie?”
“I’m fine,” Eddie says. His voice is tight and a line of tension straightens his shoulders, lifting him back up. He sounds like he’s trying to be convincing. Whether he’s trying to convince himself or Buck, Buck’s not sure.
tagging @gayhoediaz @barbiediaz @911onabc @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @alyxmastershipper and anyone who wants to participate!!
"There has to be some kind of mistake, it said there'd be two beds" - fic prompt
“There- there has to be some kind of mistake,” Buck stammers, turning to look at Eddie with wide eyes, “they- they said there would be two beds, I-” They’re in Washington DC for a school field trip, having volunteered months ago to chaperone.
(“Can I come?” Buck had asked when Eddie told him about it, eyes lighting up.
“You wanna come on an elementary school field trip across the country?”
“Is the school paying?”
“I mean, yeah-”
“Then free vacation is all I’m hearing!”)
Eddie’s sure it was more than that- that Buck hadn’t wanted to miss out on the family trip, that he was just too nervous to say it out loud. No matter how many times Eddie tries to reassure him, he’s not sure Buck will ever completely believe he has a place in their family.
But now they’ve arrived in their hotel room- rented by the school, mind you- and found there to be not two queen sized beds but one. And- it’s fine. It’ll be fine. Sure, maybe it’ll be… cramped. Buck is 6’2” and nearly 200 lbs, and Eddie’s not far behind him. A queen sized bed will definitely be a tight fit for both of them.
Eddie licks his bottom lip, raising an eyebrow at the single bed and then at Buck. Buck’s got an awkward, nervous smile, brows raised and eyes practically begging Eddie to believe him. And well- maybe it’s a little mean, but Eddie can’t help but laugh. He reaches over a hand, squeezing Buck’s shoulder as he drops his duffel bag on the ground.
“It’s fine, Buck,” he insists, chuckling. “Seriously, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“I swear they said-”
Eddie shrugs, squeezing Buck’s shoulder tighter and taking a few more steps into the room. “It’s not a big deal. Mistakes happen. Plus, we’ve shared a bed before, right?” Eddie senses Buck tense beside him and flinches, regretting his words already. The only time they shared a bed was the night after Eddie’s breakdown.
Buck
After Eddie calmed down enough to try and sleep, Buck had insisted on taking the couch. Less than an hour later, Eddie’s nightmare-induced cries drew Buck to his room. They’d sat on his bed together, Buck holding Eddie as he thrashed and wiping away his tears, whispering soft words through Eddie’s sobs. It was a while before Buck’s grip loosened, before he started to shift. He was going to leave.
Panic had raced through Eddie, sharp and electric at the thought of Buck leaving him.
“Stay,” he had whispered, gripping Buck’s shirt and pressing his face further into the place where Buck’s shoulder met his neck. “Please.”
Buck was hesitant, unsure, when he replied, “Are you sure?” Eddie could only nod. Buck didn’t say anything else, just pressed his lips to the top of Eddie’s head and held him tighter. But he stayed. It wasn’t something Eddie was used to- neither asking someone to stay, nor them actually staying even if he does.
“Yeah,” Buck says now, pulling Eddie out of his memory. “I mean- we have. But- but I can go talk to the front desk-”
“Eh,” Eddie shrugs again, “not worth the trouble. It’ll be fine. Right?” He tries not to sound too excited at the prospect of sharing a bed with Buck. And- okay, so maybe he’ll definitely regret this later. Maybe it’s not the best idea he’s ever had. But- listen, he’s starting to come to terms with his sexuality and yeah, he knows there’s no future with Buck, but… he’s human, alright? Sue him. The idea excites him- of having Buck, pressed up against him; of the searing heat he feels whenever their skin presses together, even through clothes; of Buck’s solid form a steadying presence beside him; of waking up with one large arm thrown over his waist and a nose pressed into his shoulder. Because- Buck’s a cuddler. Yeah. That’s a thing and Eddie knows about it.
So maybe it took one panic-attack riddled night for Eddie to get completely addicted to falling asleep with his best friend- his straight best friend- wrapped around him, all lanky limbs and firm muscles. So what? It’s not like- he’s not going to do anything. It’s just… comforting. Safe. He sleeps better when Buck is there to catch him if he falls.
“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, gaze drifting back to the bed. He swallows, then forces a smile, tight with nerves. “It’ll- it’ll be fine.”
***
It’s not fine. Several hours later, after the first field trip excursion- a visit to the aquarium- according to their schedule, it’s ‘Lights Out’ hour. Which, apparently, is 9:30. And- Buck’s not really complaining. They had a shift before getting on the plane, so it’s been nearly two full days since he’s gotten a wink of sleep. So maybe it’s only, like, 6:30 (if he’s calculating the time zones correctly) for him, but he’s absolutely exhausted. Thus, the scheduled bed time actually works quite well for him, thank you very much.
That is- until he’s collapsed on the bed and sees through bleary eyes that Eddie, instead of joining him, is shuffling his feet at the foot of the bed, scratching at the back of his neck and turning bright red as Buck watches.
“Would you just-” Buck sighs, flopping an arm to the other side of the bed and looking pointedly at Eddie.
“I’m-” Eddie hesitates, biting his lip between his teeth. “I’m not sure this is the best idea. Maybe- maybe I should go ask the desk-”
“Okay, no,” Buck interrupts, propping himself up on one elbow. “I suggested that earlier and you said no, so how about you just get in the bed and we can deal with this tomorrow?”
“Buck, are you-”
“I swear to god, Diaz,” Buck threatens.
“Okay,” Eddie chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay. It’s just-” Buck flops back into the pillows and throws an arm over his eyes, groaning. He just. Wants. To sleep. “Are you sure you don’t wanna… put some more clothes on?” Buck feels his face heating up and doesn’t dare move his arm. He’s wearing shorts and absolutely nothing else.
“I- I run hot,” he mumbles defensively, feeling his cheeks, neck, and probably chest flush pink.
“Hey, if you’re fine with it, so am I,” Eddie replies nonchalantly. Buck frowns slightly, wondering what he means, and risks moving his arm away. Just in time to see Eddie strip off his own shirt, leaving him in grey sweatpants. Oh.
“I-” Buck chokes on his words, his tongue suddenly feeling far too large for his mouth. He swallows, quickly looking away. “Yeah. Sounds, uh, sounds like a plan. Good plan. Yep.”
Eddie laughs and finally, finally comes around the side of the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside Buck. Almost immediately, there’s not enough room. Eddie’s knee knocks into Buck’s thighs and Buck’s elbow is in Eddie’s ribs and Eddie’s hand hits Buck in the face and- and Buck snorts. He can’t help it. Quickly, they both dissolve into nearly-hysterical laughter, fueled by the sleep deprivation and truly ridiculous position they’ve gotten themselves into.
Buck shifts, moving down the bed so his head fits right against Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie’s arm can go above him, one of Buck’s arms thrown over Eddie’s torso and their legs tangling together instinctively. And- they fit. It takes a couple seconds, but suddenly Buck doesn’t know where he ends or where Eddie begins. Eddie’s cool to the touch, but their every point of contact sends sparks skittering along Buck’s skin, his entire body practically thrumming.
“Is this okay?” Buck asks softly, Eddie shivering as the words ghost across his skin.
“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, and the words vibrate through his chest. “Yeah, this is- this is good. Are you- is this okay for you?”
Buck just hums in response, his eyes already falling closed. Eddie’s chest rises and falls under Buck’s touch and he finds himself mirroring the movements, matching his breathing to Eddie’s. He moves his hand, fingertips searching for Eddie’s heartbeat, longing for the calming rhythm tapping under his fingers.
He finds Eddie’s heart, but it’s far from calm. His heartbeat skitters and races under Buck’s fingertips, beating out a frantic rhythm that matches Buck’s own.
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
Buck cranes his head to look up at Eddie, studying the slope of his nose, the curves of his lips. “Why’s your heart racing?”
Eddie’s eyes open and he visibly swallows. “I- I don’t- um.” His heartbeat grows even faster and he stares directly at the ceiling.
“Eddie?” Buck prompts gently, pressing his palm into the other man’s chest.
“I’m sorry, Buck,” Eddie says finally. “I- I thought I could- I don’t mean to- Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll just- I’ll sleep on the floor, okay?” He starts to move, to leave, and Buck’s hand darts out, away from his racing heart to cup the side of his face. He lifts himself slightly on his other elbow, turning Eddie’s head so their eyes meet.
“Eddie,” Buck says softly. He shifts so he can take Eddie’s hand in his own, most of his weight resting on Eddie’s chest, and presses Eddie’s palm against his own heart. Eddie’s eyes widen slightly, but his body relaxes.
“Evan-”
“Can we- can we have the talk tomorrow?” Buck rushes out. Eddie frowns and Buck brushes his thumb over the corner of his mouth, smiling nervously. “I just- fuck I’m really tired so I sorta just wanna- kiss you and then like, pass out for the next ten hours. Can we- is that okay?”
Eddie’s free hand, the one not over Buck’s heart, comes up to curl around the side of his neck, his thumb pressing under Buck’s jaw. Buck nearly sighs, melting into the touch.
“Yeah,” Eddie whispers, rising up as he pulls Buck down. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.” And then he slots his mouth against Buck’s and his fingers press into the back of Buck’s neck and his other hand is searing over Buck’s heart and god, this is it. This is how Buck dies. Death by perfect first kiss.
Eddie’s teeth nip at Buck’s lower lip, begging for entrance, and Eddie makes a low, victorious sound in the back of his throat when Buck goes willingly, shifting to cover more of Eddie’s body with his own, both hands now cradling Eddie’s jaw.
Buck’s panting when Eddie pulls away, breaking the kiss, his eyes wide and voice rough as he says, “We should- we should probably go to sleep.”
“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, his fingertips brushing over Eddie’s skin as he smirks. “See- problem is, I’m really not great at listening to teachers.” And then he’s claiming Eddie’s lips as his own once more, swallowing any further protests. Though- Eddie’s not exactly complaining as his hands fly down to Buck’s hips, squeezing gently. He sighs as Buck’s mouth moves down to his neck, placing searing, open mouthed kisses along the column of his throat.
*slams door open* '' all i want to do is kiss you. all the time. '' *sprints away*
hi lovely! thank you for the prompt <3 this got sorta out of hand and was primarily written between 2 and 3 am, i hope you enjoy! (also your other prompt has not been forgotten- it’s incorporated in bed fic which is taking a long time)
Buck thinks he’s going insane. He has to be going insane, actually. Because there is absolutely, positively, no sane reason for him to have spent the past five minutes sitting in his turned off Jeep staring at Eddie’s front door instead of doing the sane thing and getting out of his car and going to actually talk to his best friend. Except- except.
Except for the fact that Buck now knows what his best friend’s mouth tastes like. He knows how it feels to kiss his best friend, to shove his best friend into a wall and press every inch of them together. He knows the sounds Eddie makes when Buck kisses his throat, the high pitched whines elicited by Buck’s ministrations and the rough, gravelly tone of his voice as he tells buck to stop teasing him. He knows the feel of Eddie’s hands as they trace paths of fire along Buck’s skin, the urgency with which Eddie touched him, as if he were afraid that Buck would simply disappear if he stopped.
Buck knows and it’s driving him absolutely fucking insane. Because while he hears Eddie’s voice, rough with desire and raw with desperation telling him to “fucking do something, stop teasing,” he can also feel the words Eddie whispered when they broke apart from their first kiss, his dark eyes searching Buck’s for an answer to an unspoken question.
“A one time thing,” he had breathed against Buck’s lips, his hand fisted in Buck’s shirt, holding him close as Buck crowded him against the wall in a dark corner of their favorite bar, “right?”
“Right,” Buck had agreed, even as the sting of rejection spiked through his chest. Hoping to get rid of it, Buck leaned forward and pressing his mouth against Eddie’s once again, urgently, desperately. Eddie let out a soft, low sound hummed from the back of his throat as Buck used the weight of his body and his grip on Eddie’s waist to push him further into the wall. Eddie’s hands lifted to tangle his fingers in Buck’s hair, tugging gently in encouragement as Buck moved his mouth off of Eddie’s, kissing a hot line down his jaw, neck, to the junction of his throat and shoulder.
“Buck,” Eddie had said softly, his voice like gravel. He tugged harder at Buck’s hair, pulling him off his neck. They were both panting, a hungry question in Eddie’s eyes when Buck met his gaze. Buck searched his eyes for another moment, but then Eddie’s hips shifted against his and the words tumbled out,
“My place or yours?” Buck asked, surprised by the roughness of his own voice. They’d only been making out for a few minutes, and Buck already sounded wrecked. God, what was he doing?
Eddie didn’t answer for a few moments, the time seeming to stretch over eternity as he stared, open mouthed, panting, at Buck.
“Yours,” he finally whispered. That was all the encouragement Buck needed to surge forward, pressing a hot, slow kiss to Eddie’s mouth before taking his hand and pulling him out of the bar. They managed to control themselves in the cab to Buck’s complex, but the walk from the car to Buck’s front door was slow, interrupted with hungry, desperate kisses and slow, deep ones that made something stir in Buck’s chest that he didn’t want to think too long on.
“Are you sure?” Eddie had asked, once more, as Buck fumbled with his lock, Eddie’s lips hot on the back on his neck and his hands tight in their grip on his hips, his own hips pressed flush against Buck. Swinging his door open and yanking Eddie in with him was the only response Buck gave. His answer was clear as he kicked the door shut and latched his mouth onto Eddie’s throat, backing them towards the stairs to his bedroom.
“Buck,” Eddie said roughly, grabbing the rail to stop them and gently pushing Buck off him. His eyes searched Buck’s, calculating and cautious, but hunger burning below the surface. “I need to hear you say it, I need to know you want this.”
“I want this,” Buck swore, his stomach clenching at the concern in Eddie’s eyes, at the care. But- that was a problem. Buck couldn’t have a honey-like warmth spreading through his chest at Eddie’s considerateness, at his gentleness. He couldn’t linger on the way that Eddie, no matter the situation, always managed to make Buck feel safe. How his very presence gave Buck a feeling of security. How he made Buck feel whole. But- this wasn’t about feelings- it couldn’t be. This was physical, something they both wanted and needed. A one time thing. Nothing more. “Do you?”
“I want you, Buck,” Eddie replied, and it felt heavy, and it felt real, and so Buck did the only thing he could think of. He tightened his grip on Eddie’s shirt, tugging him impossibly closer.
“Then fucking take me, Eddie,” he challenged, relishing as Eddie’s eyes lit on fire and then Eddie was surging forward, kissing Buck with purpose in a way that had electricity racing down Buck’s spine and tingling through his body.
And then they didn’t do much more talking.
So, see, the problem isn’t that Buck is absolutely insane. No, the problem is that that night with Eddie was the sanest he’s felt in a long time.
The problem is that now that Buck has tasted Eddie, now that he’s felt him, heard him, he has no idea how he’s supposed to pretend it’s not all he’s ever wanted and more, how he’s supposed to go back to just friends now.
The problem is that, after the night that should have changed everything, Buck woke up alone in a cold bed, with only the phantoms of Eddie’s touch and the taste on his tongue to remind him that it wasn’t all just a dream.
The problem is that it clearly didn’t mean as much to Eddie as it did to Buck. And Buck’s not sure he can pretend it didn’t mean all that it did.
The problem is that Eddie is in his house, just a couple hundred feet and a door away, and Buck is fucking frozen in his seat, terrified of facing him. Chris isn’t home- he’s at Hen’s for a playdate (“Hangout,” Chris had corrected in a way that was scarily teenager-like) and so Buck has absolutely no excuse for being at the Diaz house.
Which- he’s never actually needed an excuse before. Eddie’s never asked him to give a reason for coming over, just welcomed him with an open door and warm smile. Logically, Buck knows it would be simple to get out of his car and cross the couple hundred feet and open the door and spend the night watching stupid movies with Eddie. In theory. In reality, the second Buck sees Eddie, he’s pretty sure he’s gonna panic.
His phone buzzes, ripping him from his thoughts, and he pulls it from his jacket pocket. He swears his heart skips a beat when he sees Eddie’s name lighting up the screen. He swipes open the message, hating the fact that his hand shakes as he does so.
You gonna stay in the car all night or are you coming in?
Buck sucks in a deep breath and slides his phone back into his pocket. He’s been caught. No turning back now. He opens his door and steps out of his car and his mind is racing because he has no idea what to say and about 200 feet to figure it out. 100 feet to figure it out. 50. 30. 15. 10. And then he’s standing right in front of the door, hand on the knob, frozen. The door is yanked out of his grasp and he stumbles slightly, gaping at Eddie.
They both just stare at each other for several, long, terrifying beats. And then at once,
Eddie: “Buck, we should talk-”
Buck: “All I want to do is kiss you. All the time.”
Buck’s jaw drops open at the same time Eddie’s eyes widen, both of them shocked at what Buck’s just said. Before Eddie has a chance to reply, Buck spins on his heel and runs towards his car, flinging open the door, jumping inside, and starting the car before he fully realizes what he’s doing. Frantic, embarrassed, and desperate to get away, Buck throws the Jeep into reverse.
“Buck!” Eddie shouts, running up to the car, too close for Buck to safely make his speedy escape. So he does the mature thing. ‘Cause he’s an adult. He puts the jeep in park and locks the doors. And then he pitches forward and slams his forehead against the rim of the steering wheel as Eddie tries to open his door.
“Buck.” Eddie’s voice is muffled through the glass. “Buck open the door.”
“No thanks,” Buck calls back.
Eddie scoffs, resting his forearms against the glass and peering at Buck. “What’s the plan here, bud?”
“Gonna wait until I run out of oxygen. Then just pass away. Might take a few hours. Sorry for the inconvenience, I’m sorta blocking your driveway.”
“Right. Or we could take the not insane route and talk about this.”
“I’m happy with my dying plan.”
“I’m not.”
Buck shrugs, forehead still resting against the wheel. “You’re not the one with the keys.”
“Okay so what if I just talk at you?”
“I have a radio.”
“What if I told you all I can think about is kissing you, too?”
Buck stiffens but says nothing, his heart hammering in his chest.
“What if I told you that all day, all I’ve been able to focus on is the ghosts of your touch I feel? On the echoes of your voice in my head?” His voice lowers, turning rough. “On how pretty you sounded when you begged, on the way that you flush all the way down to your chest, on the taste of your mouth?”
A shiver races down Buck’s spine and he finally lifts his head, turning to look at Eddie through the glass. He says nothing, just stares at Eddie, trying to find the answers to questions he doesn’t even know in the depths of Eddie’s eyes. And then he starts to roll down the window. Eddie jerks back, but doesn’t break eye contact as the window rolls down. There’s a held breath between them and Buck swallows thickly.
“I can’t do a causal thing,” is what he ends up saying. “Not- not with you.”
“And if I don’t want to do casual?” Eddie replies immediately, stepping closer, and Buck knows he means it.
“Then I think you need to kiss me. Like right the fuck now or-” Eddie’s lips are on his before he can finish his thought, which works well because the moment Eddie’s mouth is on his own, every thought Buck has suddenly flies from his grasp, replaced with EddieEddieEddie.
“I could never do just casual with you, Buck,” Eddie whispers against his lips as they separate. “You’re it.”
“You ran,” Buck murmurs.
“You tried to turn your Jeep into a death trap.”
Buck snorts softly. “Even?”
Eddie leans forward again, pressing his mouth against Buck’s in a slow, dirty kiss. “I dunno, you ran too.” Buck just hums in response as Eddie’s lips travel down his throat, Eddie leaning halfway into the car now.
“I’m sure I can think of some way to make it up to you,” Buck whispers, tugging at Eddie’s hair to pull his mouth back to Buck’s, arching into Eddie as much as the awkward position will allow, car door still wedged between them.
“I think,” Eddie says in between kisses, “that maybe we should get inside.”
“I think that’s a really good idea,” Buck agrees, turning off the car with a grin and jumping out to pull Eddie towards the house.
Buck may be insane. He may be entirely, completely, fully off his rocker. But if this is what insanity feels like, he thinks, he doesn’t want to be sane ever again.
kisses that turns into love bites, and you slightly moan, "you like that, princess?" 👀👀
sorry this took so long!! enjoy <3
No one knows yet. That’s part of the excitement. At least, for Buck it is. They both know it’s more- more than just clandestine hookups and secret touches and stolen whispers. They know they’re more. But… for now, at least, the sneaking around is half the fun.
Unfortunately, it also means that Buck has to keep quiet when it’s late at night and Eddie drags him out of his bunk and into a supply closet.
Buck’s elbow almost knocks over a broom as he grabs for Eddie desperately, pulling him closer, closer. It doesn’t matter how many times he kisses Eddie. He doesn’t think the way his breath gets stolen away every single time will ever change.
It’s addictive, really, the way Eddie’s mouth tastes. The way his hands feel as they explore Buck’s body like it’s their first time touching him. The way he whispers praises into Buck’s mouth, against Buck’s skin as he goes.
It’s only been a couple minutes and Buck is already a mess, biting his lip to keep from whining as Eddie kisses his neck, ripping at the collar of his uniform until it’s low enough that the marks won’t show. Buck fists his hands in Eddie’s shirt, holding him close and tight as he works.
He throws his head back against the door with a soft thump, giving Eddie even more access to the expanse of his throat as he pants, struggling to keep quiet. He feels Eddie grin against his neck and then a knee is bullying its way in between his legs.
A sharp gasp rips itself out of Buck and he yanks at Eddie’s shirt, pulling him impossibly closer and letting out a small whine. Eddie’s lips leave his neck and land on Buck’s own, quickly swallowing his whimper. Buck moans softly into the kiss and Eddie squeezes his hip in warning, pulling away.
“Gotta stay quiet, baby,” Eddie whispers, the words hot on Buck’s skin. Buck digs his teeth into his lower lip and nods jerkily, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.
Eddie’s mouth skates down Buck’s throat, peppering kisses and nipping lightly as he goes. Buck clenches his jaw and inhales sharply, trying to control his breathing. Then Eddie latches onto his collarbone, nipping and sucking along Buck’s skin and it’s torture.
He holds on to Eddie’s uniform for dear life and his entire body tenses with the efforts to stay quiet. He’s got this, he can do this, he can stay quiet, he can be good-
Eddie reaches the junction where Buck’s throat meets his shoulder and kisses it so softly Buck isn’t even sure it was real and then- he bites, the sting of his teeth quickly being soothed with the press of his tongue, the slide of his lips.
Buck can’t stop it, he lets out a long, low moan, one of his hands flying to the back of Eddie’s head, twisting his fingers through his hair to keep him there and Eddie- Eddie chuckles. A quiet, soft thing against Buck’s skin. He nips the spot again, followed with a kiss, and Buck whines desperately.
“You like that, princess?” Eddie murmurs into his skin, rough and sweet, possessive and gentle all at the same time. They both freeze. Buck goes slack as Eddie pulls his head back, staring at Buck with wide eyes. “I didn’t- was that- are you- uh- fuck- Buck, I’m sorry if I-”
“Perfect,” Buck interrupts, grabbing the back of Eddie’s neck and pulling Eddie’s mouth to his own in a crushing, desperate kiss. “God, you’re fucking perfect.” Eddie laughs against Buck’s lips, kissing the side of his mouth quickly before tucking his face into Buck’s throat again.
The words ghost across his skin, making Buck shiver, when Eddie says, “Not so bad yourself, Buckley.”
