#and is ALSO so fucking grateful for Bobby pulling Buck away from where he was buried

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

Watching Eddie Begins with Buddie-colored glasses on is already crazy enough, but I just caught something that I never really thought about before. Athena tells Bobby that the news crews showing up before she leaves for another call might turn the call into a nationwide story. And then Buck absolutely LOSES it when 30 feet of wet earth falls on top of Eddie. So yeah, maybe Bobby pulls Buck away to stop him from futilely digging for Eddie with his hands, but maybe he also does it because he doesn’t want his kid’s grief and fear and love for Eddie being broadcast across the country. Especially not when Bobby thinks that Eddie’s probably already dead. And not only does Bobby pull Buck away from the well, he pulls back right into his lap. This is the closest we get to Bobby cradling Buck in his arms until the lightning strike, and it’s because he doesn’t want Buck to be in pain, and he most certainly does NOT want the tragedy of Eddie’s death to be made even worse by Buck’s pain over it being broadcast to the entire country.

#bobby is buck's dad #911 #9-1-1 #911 abc #9-1-1 abc #buddie #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buckley #athena grant #also #just because I’ve never really posted meta about Eddie begins before #we REALLY need to talk about the fact that Buck’s reaction to Eddie’s potential demise is the ONLY reaction show live and in color #season 3 buddie was NOT subtle in the slightest y’all #I know there’s so many fics out there about Eddie finding a video of Buck’s reaction to him being trapped but I want one where he watches #and is ALSO so fucking grateful for Bobby pulling Buck away from where he was buried #for taking care of his partner when he wasn’t topside to do it himself #that still of Bobby and eddie talking for s7 reallyyyy has me in my feels about these three men and their incredible dynamic #well scene #you will always be famous #fuck the writers for this actually #(affectionate)

[veryace-ficrecs]

Tsunami 9-1-1 fic recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

You're Gonna Be Okay, Kid by abow123456 - Not Rated

The anniversary of the tsunami brings back memories for Buck, who gets some new ink to commemorate it for all the right reasons. It also leads to some long overdue confessions and closure for a group of survivors.

in the middle of a city with a million strangers by zimnokurw - Not Rated

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Buck’s attention once again goes to the brunet Firefighter who saved Kyle. The man seems pissed and worried. He talks with someone on the phone and tries to keep his voice quiet, but he still managed to yell through the whisper.  “¡Por el amor de Dios! My son is out there, somewhere.” he explains through gritted teeth to whoever is on the other side of the phone call. It’s an angry whisper. He runs a hand through his hair, sighing and trying to calm down, before continuing. “And this whole time I thought he was safe.” it’s not really the man’s fault, but Buck can understand his thinking. He gets why the man is so worried, even though he isn’t a father himself, and he unconsciously rubs Chris’ back with his right palm. “I should’ve been looking for him right now.” the Latino raises his voice a bit, most likely not even aware of that, while he emphasizes two last words of his sentence, and his voice wakes Christopher up. or; buck meets a lost boy at the santa monica pier, takes care of him during the tsunami, and then reunites him with his hot-ass latino firefighter dad at the va hospital.

Evan Buckley vs. The Ocean by gardenrose - Not Rated

The day Evan Buckley gets back from deployment, he heads out for a relaxing day at the pier. There, he runs into someone from his past and has to keep both of them and others safe when a devastating tsunami hits. 'He doesn’t waste time, plunging back into the ice cold water and swimming frantically towards where Chris is desperately holding onto a light pole. Buck gets to where he’s about five feet away before he has to stop, the current too strong to keep going. “Let go Chris!” Buck says, and the kid shakes his head frantically. Buck’s heart goes out to him - they’re both fucking terrified and the worst of it isn’t over. “I’ll catch you!” He yells, reaching his arm out to Chris. “Trust me!” Chris squeezes his eyes shut and lets go of the pole.'

Kindness: What Connects Us by FandomLife54 - Rated T

Still off balance, Buck slams his left heel onto the roof, heaving forward to catch the collar of that yellow shirt. And there’s no conscious decision making here. It’s all instinct, and he’s grateful for it. If he’d given his overzealous mind the chance to consider another way, he would have missed his shot. Instead, his arms hurl the boy into the hands of another survivor... And his right foot misses the edge. OR Buck catches Chris before he rolls off the firetruck, and it's him who falls back into the retreating waters of the tsunami. Unconscious and seriously injured, he's unaware that his team has been searching for him, never giving up as the days pass.

come out to the sea, my love by allyasavedtheday - Rated T

“Bobby,” Maddie exclaims. “It’s Buck.” Eddie’s head shoots up, hand immediately going to his own radio. Did something happen? Is it another clot? Did Christopher call 911? Is Buck on the floor bleeding out while his son watches- “He and Christopher were on the pier.” There’s one dizzying moment where Eddie’s vision completely whites out and he loses all control of his limbs but then a strong hand is gripping his arm and he manages to pull himself together enough to focus on Bobby’s face. “Maddie, how do you know that?” Bobby asks and he sounds calm but Eddie can hear the tension hidden in his voice. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. “A girl with a drone called 911- she sent me the footage and-“ Maddie lets out a hitching breath. “They’re stranded on top of the 136’s ladder truck.” * Tsunami au in which the 118 find out about Buck and Chris being stranded on top of the ladder truck and come to rescue them before they get separated.

So he did. by Maximoff_Wanda - Rated G

Eddie looked up at Bobby and saw the same fear Eddie was feeling reflected in his Captain’s eyes. “What did you just say?” Bobby’s normal composure was slipping, not enough that anyone besides Eddie, Hen, or Chim could see it, but Eddie knew that Bobby was just as nervous as Eddie was. The man from before answered. “Yeah, his name was Buck. He said that the two of them were on the pier when the wave first hit. He uh, he had a weird mark above his left eye, a scar or something. He had a pink shirt on and his kid was wearing a yellow striped shirt, I think?” “The son was named Christopher. Buck had me sit with him while he helped people onto the truck.” Forget the truck bombing. This was the most scared Eddie had ever been. Or: what if Eddie found out earlier that Buck and Christopher were on the pier and Buck was able to find Chris after losing him?

Scratch and Burn by JessicaMDawn - Rated T

Christopher scratches Buck during the tsunami, but the rest of the debris hurts a lot more and Buck thinks nothing of it. The next day, however, Buck experiences a lot of changes that he doesn't know how to handle. Luckily, Eddie is there to help him through it.

Lights Will Guide by SadieYuki - Rated T

When caught in a disaster, sometimes even the smallest thing can happen differently and it changes everything. A what-if fic where Buck is able to reach Christopher right after he falls off the ladder truck and they find themselves in a different situation.

Call It What You Will - Fate? Destiny? (A Tsunami) by abow123456 - Rated M

Evan Buckley's day of relaxation is cut short when a tsunami hits the beach he was relaxing at. He has to fight to keep himself and a lost little boy safe from the water, as well as anyone else he finds. After, he meets the boys father and family, and it causes a snowball effect of good things for him, for once.

i feel like i could die and that'd be ok by InsertUserNameHerePlease - Rated T

He woke up drowning.   It wasn’t the first time and it’d probably not be the last. The sensation of suspension surrounded by water was as familiar as an old friend. ---- Chris didn't fall into the water on the day of the Tsunami but Buck did.

Going Under, But I'm Not Giving Up by Signsofsam - Rated G

Buck is about to answer, about to tell Chris that he intends to always come back, but something in the distance, at the end of the pier, catches his eye.

There’s a wall of water heading their way.

This was supposed to be a nice day.

All Buck wanted was a nice day out with Chris. All he wants now is to get them back to Eddie.

Kindness: What Connects Us by FandomLife54 - Rated T

Still off balance, Buck slams his left heel onto the roof, heaving forward to catch the collar of that yellow shirt. And there’s no conscious decision making here. It’s all instinct, and he’s grateful for it. If he’d given his overzealous mind the chance to consider another way, he would have missed his shot. Instead, his arms hurl the boy into the hands of another survivor... And his right foot misses the edge. OR Buck catches Chris before he rolls off the firetruck, and it's him who falls back into the retreating waters of the tsunami. Unconscious and seriously injured, he's unaware that his team has been searching for him, never giving up as the days pass.

the mortifying ordeal of being known by Polish_Amber - Rated G

The thing was, the 118 was full of gossips.

Eddie had been at the station less than a week before Hen and Chim wrangled details about his “hot young thing” from him (“Buck is only 4 years younger than me, he is not a ‘hot young thing’!” Eddie complained.)

And Bobby was open about his worries for his son’s lack of direction and the secrets he appears to be keeping (“I just wish I could help Evan find the thing that gives him purpose,” Bobby lamented.)

It just made it all the more ridiculous (and horrifying) when Eddie realizes he’s been dating his Captain’s son this whole time (“Defiling his baby,” Chimney cackled, because he clearly wanted Eddie murdered.)

Or, the AU where miscommunication abounds as Eddie seeks advice about his new relationship, Bobby despairs over his adopted son's career prospects and his refusal to talk about it, and Evan Buckley-Nash juggles training at the fire academy, building a family with his new boyfriend, and trying to work out how to tell his overprotective dad that he's already chosen the life he wants, actually.

It takes a goddamn tsunami, of all things, to get the story straight.

#veryace recs #9 1 1 fic #9 1 1 fandom #eddie diaz #even buck buckley #even buckley #118 firefam #christopher diaz #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3 #9-1-1 tsunami

[fruitydiaz-archived]

that’s my boy

eddie slips up after a successful rescue on a call and, while looking at buck looking beautiful and overjoyed, says “that’s my boy” to himself. except chim, hen, and bobby are all there when he says it.

buddie, pre-relationship, sweet fluff, pining

2,184 words

AO3 link

—

That’s my boy.

Eddie doesn’t mean to say it. It’s not like it’s even a phrase that he thinks often — not in regards to Buck.

Okay, so maybe, every once in a while Eddie will look at him doing something that is so whole-heartedly Buck — like performing a rope rescue when an apartment complex is on fire, or risking his life to save his ex-girlfriend’s fiance because he made a promise, because he’s always ready and willing to fall on the sword for the people he loves, even after they’ve hurt him, (Eddie wishes he wouldn’t do that so often, actually, but he understands), or organizing a Christmas party with Athena and inviting his whole family because he knew how upset they were that he wouldn’t be spending Christmas with them, or building gingerbread houses with Chris and Denny — and being happy to do it nonetheless. Just occasional things like that that make Eddie pause and make pride swell up inside him and remind him just how much he loves this man — despite all of the stress and anguish he causes him on a regular basis.

Which, is also, not something he thinks about often. The love thing, that is. The stress and anguish — that’s constant.

But when they’re on a call and Buck is ripping his helmet off, wiping the sweat from his forehead, skipping after the ambulance as it pulls away, overjoyed that his on-his-feet thinking and bull-headed determination saved yet another life, Eddie can’t help it when he smiles fondly, shakes his head, and chuckles to himself.

“That’s my boy.”

He doesn’t really process what he’s said until he looks back up and sees Hen, Chimney, and Bobby all staring at him. Chimney’s stopped chewing on his gum, mouth hanging a little open, Hen’s frozen with one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, and Bobby’s looking at him with that look he gets when another imaginary piece of some metaphorical puzzle that only he is privy to falls into place. He tends to look at Eddie like that often, especially around Buck.

Eddie just stares back at them, tilting his head to the side a little, and pursing his lips.

“Your boy?” Hen prompts eventually, an amused grin slowly spreading on her face. Eddie feels his cheeks warm but shakes his head in confusion.

“What? I didn’t say—” Chimney starts shaking his head violently, cutting Eddie off.

“Nope, nope, you definitely did say those words.”

Eddie opens his mouth to argue that no he didn’t otherwise he would remember and also he’s never once said those words about Buck out loud so, of course, he wouldn’t — but Bobby holds his hand up, silencing all of them. Eddie tries hard to convince himself that the smirk on Bobby’s face isn’t also amused, because he likes to think that Bobby’s above all that. He’s their Captain, after all.

“Alright, you guys. Let’s wrap this up, okay?” Bobby says gently, gesturing to the scene in front of them. Eddie nods, avoiding making eye contact with either Hen or Chimney.

He does sneak a glance at Buck, eventually. He can’t really help himself. Buck’s like a magnet for him. He’s pretty sure he’d be able to spot Buck instantly, in any crowd, on any day. It’s partially this itch he has, this need to know where the people he cares about are, at all times, just to know that they’re safe. But also, there’s just a natural gravity that Buck has. Eddie always finds himself being pulled closer and closer.

It’s golden hour and Buck’s leaning against a post on the side of the street, talking to Athena and Bobby, making exaggerated gestures with his hands as he relays what just happened to them, even though they were right there with him. His hair looks soft and tousled, like it always does when he pulls his helmet off at the end of a call. The sunlight is hitting it just so, illuminating the edges of it and making it glow golden, like a halo around Buck’s head. Warmth blooms in Eddie’s chest at the sight.

That’s my boy.

When he turns back to the scene Hen and Chimney are smirking at him again. He rolls his eyes, finishes packing up, and spins to jog back to the truck.

Eddie likes to make his home in denial. It’s an island that keeps him safe, keeps him away from all of the things that could hurt him — like the reality of his feelings.

He’s known for a while that he feels something for Buck — he’s just not always sure what that feeling is. The thing about his feelings for Buck is that...not only are they absolutely terrifying to him — but they’re also confusing. He doesn’t fully understand his feelings because he’s not sure they're anything he’s ever felt before, not all at once, at least. He wasn’t expecting this — not from Buck.

Eddie doesn’t let a lot of people get close to him. It’s just a thing that he developed in his childhood that got stronger over time, the more he experienced loving and losing people. You don’t let people close, you don’t get hurt when they leave. That’s a simple fact.

But Buck hadn’t listened to that. Buck didn’t care that Eddie was scared of letting him in only for him to leave — because for Buck leaving wasn’t even an option. He had fucked up once and he spent every single moment since doing his damned best to make sure Eddie knew that he was ride or die, with him ‘till the end of the line. And he meant it, Eddie knew that.

So it could be easy for Eddie to look at Buck and be grateful that he has a friend like that, a support system that, no matter how hard either one of them tried, they couldn’t fuck up. But Eddie’s never felt the way he feels about Buck for anyone, ever. He had close friends in his childhood, and they always said they would be together forever, but none of them were around anymore. What did they have to base their loyalty off of, anyway? It was never serious when they said it, it was kid stuff.

And in his adulthood, most of his friends were from the army. They shared a lot of experiences that nobody else would understand, and came a lot closer than your average friendship, given the circumstances, but none of them made Eddie feel the way he does about Buck.

Certainly, no one looked at Christopher the way Buck did, save for his own family, and that was enough to throw Eddie’s entire body into some strange whirlpool of emotions he rarely let himself get swept up in.

Chris was Eddie’s entire world. He wanted to protect him from every hurt imaginable, even when he knew he couldn’t. Sometimes that protectiveness led to him making mistakes — but he was a parent and that was bound to happen, and he had to learn how to adjust, how to step back, and let Christopher find out things on his own. He had to let him get hurt, sometimes, and then encourage him to get back up.

But the hurt Eddie wanted to protect him from most of all was the hurt of abandonment. He never wanted to let another person into his life again, not without knowing that they would stay.

And Buck? Buck would do anything for Christopher. He never even had to say it because Eddie just knew. He said it in all of his actions, the way he walked all day after the tsunami, bleeding from his arm, collapsing in exhaustion only after he saw that Chris was safe. The way he encouraged him to never give up, to find a way to do whatever he wants. He loves Chris, and that makes Eddie love him even more.

He’s loved people before. Even if he’s not one to say it often, not in those words at least, he recognizes it when he feels it. He loves his family, his parents, his sisters, his aunt, his Abuela — even when they’re overstepping his carefully set boundaries. He loved the guys in his unit. He loved Shannon, he loves Christopher. He loves everyone at the 118, the family he chose.

But Buck is something different. Buck is something he’s never felt before.

When he realized he loved Shannon, it was like a hurricane that came out of nowhere, rushing over him, drenching him in its rains, pulling him in every direction, and leaving him entirely breathless. She was a perfect storm of love and chaos. One that he doesn’t regret, but one that he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to experience again. He’s not sure he could survive that kind of devastation again.

But Buck wasn’t anything like that, even though Eddie’s pretty sure that he should be, with all of his fierce love and reckless abandon. Eddie realized he loved Buck like watching a sunrise, slowly, gradually, growing warmer and brighter over time. He was a sight that made your chest ache from its beauty, one of those things that made you feel lucky to be alive, one of those things that made you feel like you were blessed to witness it.

He left Eddie feeling stunned and off-balance, but warm, and comforted at the same time. The thing about sunrises was that you could always count on them to come back around the next day. No matter what storms the night before brought, the sun was always there in the morning.

Buck made Eddie feel safe.

That’s my boy.

He’s packing up his gear in the truck when he spots Buck out of the corner of his eye, jogging towards him. He pretends to ignore him, ducking his head and smiling to himself as he shuts the door on the truck.

“Hey man, did you see that?” Buck says as he approaches Eddie. His voice is light and airy, like he’s a little out of breath from the jog over, which would make sense since he’s still got at least 70 pounds of gear on him. But he doesn’t look bothered by it at all. He just clasps his hands together and smiles at Eddie with that giant, overly pleased, and just on the verge of shy smile — the one he always shares with Eddie.

Eddie leans against the truck casually, crossing his arms and nodding at Buck, smiling.

“Yeah, I saw it. You did good, kid.” His heart constricts at the way Buck lights up at the praise. It’s times like these where he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him, card a hand through his hair and then bring him in gently, tucking Buck’s face into his neck and holding him close, whispering all the words of encouragement he never got to hear when he was younger.

But he settles for this, standing at arm's length and keeping his praise to a minimum.

“We did good,” Buck corrects, punching Eddie’s shoulder lightly. “We make a good team.”

The team, Eddie knows, consists of Bobby, Chimney, Hen, Buck, and him. But when Buck looks at him like that, when he says things like that, it makes him feel like it's about just the two of them.

Buck’s matching his position, leaning against the truck now, looking down at Eddie with his flushed face and his sweet smile. It’s like they’re the only two people in the world. It’s an intoxicating feeling, so addictive that Eddie often wishes that he could just let himself get lost in it, soak up all of the love and attention that just radiates off of Buck, stretch out in the sunlight and just let it warm him all over, be utterly and unashamedly selfish with it. To relish in that love that he’s not always sure he deserves.

He opens his mouth, not sure what exactly he’s going to say next, when Hen appears behind him, patting him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Eddie, you and your boy ready to head back home or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty all night?” She shoots him a sly grin over her shoulder as she passes by them to climb into the truck. Eddie freezes a little at the teasing, not sure what he’ll say if Buck turns to him, tilts his head, and asks what did she mean by your boy?

But he doesn’t tilt his head in question at all. His eyes lock with Eddie’s for just a second and the corners of his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. Eddie feels his breath get trapped somewhere in his chest and then Buck turns away and disappears into the truck.

He hangs back for a bit, struggling to catch his breath again, nodding at Chimney and Bobby as they brush past him. Bobby pauses before he rounds the truck, looking back at Eddie with an amused smile.

“You good, Diaz?” He calls. Eddie looks away before nodding, waving a hand, and pulling the door open.

“All good, Cap.”

#okay i'm going to go workout now and then start work but here's something i wrote #everyone's being ANGSTY and i LOVE it but i just wanted to b swEET for a moment #and i love writing eddie in love with buck idk idk #soft boys #buddie #911 fic #911 fox #al talks #writing

[tripleaxeldiaz]

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 4/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

“Buck!”

Buck nearly slices his hand on the skate he’s supposed to be sharpening when he hears May’s voice. He drags his eyes away from ice long enough to see her, Chim, and Maddie looking at him expectedly. Apparently, that wasn’t the first time she’d said his name.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said we’re going to that Thai place on Sawtelle for dinner, do you wanna come?”

“Oh, uh—” his eyes drift back in time to see Eddie land his cleanest quad lutz all day, and he tries not to smile. “I’ve got a session with Hen in a little bit, maybe tomorrow?”

“You okay, Buckaroo?” Chim asks. “You look...forlorn.”

Buck snorts and shakes his head. “I’m fine, just tired.”

Chim shrugs as he follows the girls out of the rink. Buck tries to focus, tries to get lost in the back and forth of sharpening, but he keeps getting distracted by Eddie’s practice and the way he commands the ice even when no one’s scoring him. He feels an ache in his chest watching him, a dull one but still there — it’s been a month since Skate America, and they still have lunch and hang out and everything is fine, but there’s also a tension between them now, the tension of knowing what it’s like to have their hands on each other, what the other one tastes like, and wanting to do it more. 

They make eye contact as Eddie heads for the locker room, and he sends Buck a smile so warm Buck swears it’s better than sunshine.

He keeps thinking this waiting thing is going to get easier, but it really, really hasn’t.

“Did you guys get a divorce or something?” Buck jumps as Hen sits down next to him and starts lacing up her skates. 

“What? We haven’t— We never— What?” Buck asks, voice an octave higher than normal. 

Hen levels him with an unimpressed look. “Don’t give me that. You went from hating him to being attached at the hip to staring at him like a lovesick puppy in like six weeks. Either this is a lover’s spat, or it’s some kinky roleplay thing that I don’t actually want to know anything about.”

Buck doesn’t think he’s ever blushed so hard or so fast in his whole life. “Jesus, it’s none of those things! We—” he looks around quickly before turning back and lowering his voice, “we did kiss, at Skate America, but it was just once and we decided to...pause any next relationship steps until after the Olympics.”

“Why? You’re allowed to date teammates, that’s not against the rules.”

“I know, but—” he’s not sure how to explain I can’t stop thinking about him but that makes me lose focus and as much as I want to make out with him I also want to beat him at every possible competition without sounding insane, so he settles on “we just don’t want any distractions.”

“So you’re gonna pine for each other from afar for the next three months, because that’s less distracting than actually being together?”

Buck pauses lacing up his own skates. “Okay, so maybe it’s not a great plan.”

Hen shrugs as she pushes off from the boards, skating backwards so Buck can still see her skeptical frown. “It might be easier to handle if you just embrace it now. I know it’ll be easier for me to handle.”

Maybe she’s right, a little voice in his head whispers, because it makes sense. But at the same time, a relationship is something he’s never had to factor into competition season before, so he’s honestly not sure how to navigate it. Maybe it starts great, they’re mooning over each other, but then one of them has a bad showing, and it leads to animosity or jealousy or some other ugly thing that would drive a wedge back between them when they’d (he’d) just overcome it. Buck cares about Eddie, cares about their friendship, their potential relationship, Eddie’s general happiness. But he also cares about his career, about his own dreams, and call him selfish or single minded, but he really cares about winning the Olympics. And he’s not willing to risk hurting any of those things by jumping into something too quickly.

He wants to do this with Eddie, but he wants to do this right, when he can make Eddie a top priority like he deserves. If that means he has to endure a few more months of pining, then fine. Come February, it’ll all be more than worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, he’s sitting cross-legged at center ice, staring off at nothing, when he sees Eddie skating over to him out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t say anything, just sits down next to Buck, copying his position, and inviting himself into the reflective silence Buck’s created in the dim morning light.

He finds he doesn’t mind the company so much. 

“Are we meditating?” Eddie whispers eventually, like he still respects the quiet even though he has no idea what it’s for. 

“Something like that,” Buck says, and Eddie nods, lets them fall back into their own thoughts. It makes Buck melt a little bit, a welcome relief from the incessant buzzing he’s been feeling under his skin all morning.

The truth is, Buck hasn’t been able to make himself move for about 20 minutes. He came in for one last early practice before they’re supposed to fly to Japan, fell on every single jump he attempted, and eventually just didn’t get back up. He had half hoped giving up would spurn his stubborn streak to try one more time one last jump, but instead he just sat, his worries burying him deeper and deeper like freshly fallen snow.

He groans and leans back, laying flat on the ice, trying to focus on the bite of the cold on the back of his head instead of anything else. Eddie follows suit to mirror him again, and Buck’s stupidly grateful that he’s here. He turns his head to face him and is met with eyes glowing honey colored in the sunlight.

“I’m really worried about fucking everything up,” he says in a rush, like Eddie’s gaze pulled it right out of him before he could put all is walls up and lock them, pretend like he’s still strong and has it all together.

“You won’t,” Eddie says with no hesitation.

Buck rolls his eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. I’ve watched you skate since we were 16. I know setbacks make you fight harder.”

“This isn’t about setbacks,” he says, sitting up and resting back on his hands. “This is about going to the last GP before the Final, where everyone is warmed up and has all their kinks worked out, while I can’t even land a clean triple loop.”

Eddie, once again, sits up to mirror him. “One bad practice doesn’t mean anything. Your programs are solid, the audience and the judges love you, you really have nothing to worry about.”

“Except your perfect jumps getting in my way.”

Eddie laughs and it echoes around the rink. “Yeah, except that. But hey, if I win, I’ll let you hold the medal, just to remember what gold feels like.”

With anyone else, Buck would bristle at a joke like that, especially after a trainwreck of a practice. Hell, three months ago, he certainly wouldn’t have been okay with Eddie saying it. But now he just laughs, and he feels almost relieved, because despite their being direct competition, despite the pause they put on whatever it was they were moving towards, he still has Eddie in his corner. He might not actually know how this next week will go, but Eddie believes in him, and right now, it’s enough to finally get him up off the ice, offering a hand down to Eddie to pull him up too. They linger for a minute, hands still clasped, before Buck pulls away and glides toward the edge of the rink.

“Think you can’t beat me in a 500 meter, golden boy?”

Eddie smiles that smile that makes Buck’s stomach drop, and then he’s flashing past him, halfway around the ice before Buck can even start. They go around and around, name calling and playfully shoving, and Buck’s nerves melt away with every burst of speed and every glimpse of joy on Eddie’s face.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they land in Sapporo, Buck’s so exhausted he feels a little drunk. He’s never been good at sleeping on long flights, always too distracted by the endless movie choices or a trashy thriller he picked up at Hudson News or his own worries swirling in his head. He finally managed to fall asleep for an hour before he was woken up by the warm weight of Eddie’s cheek resting on his shoulder, his hair softly brushing his jaw.

His only focus after that was on keeping as still as possible for the rest of the flight.

Eddie, thankfully, takes charge of herding him through customs and to the car waiting for them at arrivals, gently steering him so he avoids people and poles while his eyes are half closed. He’s much nicer about it than Maddie ever is, and he only runs into a wall once. Eddie apologizes for it profusely, gently rubbing his head checking for bumps. Buck has to literally bite his tongue before an embarrassing string of words tumbles of his exhausted mouth.

They make it to the hotel in one piece, and Buck barely has time to take his shoes off before he passes out, starfished on the bed, soothed by the background noise of Eddie puttering around the bathroom. 30 seconds later (actually four hours but it feels much shorter), an alarm goes off, and Buck is once again herded around the room and out the door, a cup of coffee shoved into his hand as they get in the van to take them to practice. 

Thanks to the coffee and a 30 minute nap in the van, Buck’s at least awake enough to be functional when they arrive. He’s even more awake after a few laps around the rink, the wind stinging his face a better pick-me-up than caffeine. He runs his jumps with Bobby, lands them clean, and he feels good, his nerves quieted by lingering exhaustion and confidence he hasn’t been able to find in a few weeks. 

He sees Eddie by the boards, the usual thrill of having him watch running through him, pushing him just a little bit harder, but it’s quickly snuffed out when he sees that Eddie’s not alone, and he’s not even looking at the ice. Instead, he’s talking to a handsome Russian skater, one that Buck’s known since they were juniors so he knows how big of an asshole he is. He’s laughing loudly like Eddie just told the funniest joke he’s ever heard, his hand running up and down Eddie’s bicep in a much too friendly way. Buck tries to shake it off and keep focused, but after falling out of two spins and almost face planting on a three turn, Hen sends him off to stretch on his own and “get your damn head on straight”. He stalks off, passing close enough to Eddie and The Asshole to hear The Asshole ask when Eddie will have time to get dinner before going back to the States. 

Buck...he’s not jealous. He has no reason to be, he and Eddie are not dating. But he feels something boiling hot and nasty in his stomach, and he kind of wants to slam the guy’s hand with a toe pick every time his laugh pierces through the rink.

He’s being obnoxious and distracting, so Buck is pissed, but not jealous. And he is not avoiding Eddie by hiding in Chimney’s room until he’s sure Eddie’s asleep.

He does avoid him the next day, out of an abundance of caution that his brain-to-mouth filter might fail and he’ll say something he regrets, and because he does need to get his head on straight and focus like Hen said. He needs at least silver to qualify for the Final and push him a little bit further in the USFSA’s good graces, upping his chances of being named to the Olympic team in two months. He can’t do that if he’s worrying about non-existent relationship drama. So he fills the rest of the day with practice and conditioning, working hard enough that his brain quiets and he feels prepared, but not so much that he hurts himself. He sees Eddie here and there, thinks he tries to catch his eye a few times, but he’s got tunnel vision now, and nothing short of a life or death emergency will break it. 

At least, that’s how his tunnel vision used to work. 

But the next day during short programs, he sees The Asshole strutting towards Eddie again before their warm-up group goes out, and his tunnel crumbles, filling his brain with static and rubble.  

His program could have gone worse, overall, but it also certainly could have gone better. A quad loop turned triple loop and a sketchy landing on his triple axel land him in third place, meaning his free actually has to be perfect to get him to the Final. Only the six highest scoring skaters after all Grand Prix events qualify, and last he checked, he was just in sixth place but could easily be overtaken. Eddie is (surprise surprise) in first, Buck feeling a strange mix of pride and panic as he watches him execute another flawless short. It seems to be only getting stronger as the season goes on, which should also be happening for Buck, but instead it feels like he’s slowly unravelling, hurrying to spin himself back together before he loses too much ground.

The Asshole is in second. Buck has to sit on his hands during the presser so he doesn’t reach across the table and smack that smug look right off the guy’s face.

“He really said he was ‘looking forward to representing his country at the top of the Olympic podium’. Like seriously? We’re all thinking it, but no one’s conceited enough to say it out loud and on the record.”

Maddie shrugs from the other end of the bed. “Maybe it’s a language thing. Like he meant to say ‘on the podium’ instead but got confused because English is hard.”

Buck levels her with an unimpressed glare. He had come to her room right after the presser, lamenting about everything that went wrong and stupid judges and stupid Russia (“Really, Buck? The whole country?”). He’s usually grateful for Maddie’s voice of reason, but today he just needs to vent all his frustrations that have built up over the past few days. He really doesn’t care if they make sense or not.

“You should see the way he’s throwing himself at Eddie. I’ve watched him flex his arms every time Eddie’s walked past for two days. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so irritating.”

“Well, I’m sure Eddie’s not falling for it if this guy is as big of a jerk as you say he is.”

Buck stays quiet, avoiding her eyes and slowly dragging a french fry through ketchup on the room service plate in front of him. 

“Oh my god,” Maddie groans, reaching forward to shove his shoulder. “Do you really think Eddie is that shallow?”

“Well I don’t know!” Buck says. “I heard him ask Eddie out to dinner after the competition, maybe he said yes! It’s not like he’s seeing anyone.”

“It’s not like he’s seeing you, is what you mean. Since you were the one who said you two should wait until after Beijing.” 

“Whatever,” he mutters as he stabs another fry into ketchup.

Maddie shakes her head. “Jealousy is not a good look on you, Buck.”

“I’m not jealous! I’m just...concerned for my friend, and—” He stops as Maddie just stares at him like she sees right through him. Which, he supposes, is probably not hard for her to do. She reaches out for his hand, taking it in hers and squeezing gently.

“If you’re that ‘concerned’,” she says, air quotes very much implied, “then I think you should just go talk to him.”

“And say what? ‘I don’t want you to go on a date with that handsome Russian man because I want to go on a date with you, even though I was the one who said we should wait because I’m an idiot’?

“...maybe not those exact words. But you do have to go back to your room, because it’s after midnight, the free dance is in eight hours, and I need to sleep.” She all but rolls him off the bed, pulls him into a quick hug, then shoves him into the hallway. “You got this! Use your words!” she yells as the door closes behind her.

When he gets back, Eddie is still awake, reading a book and icing his right ankle. He smiles at him in greeting, that same soft smile that Buck’s pretty sure only he gets to see. The smile he definitely didn’t see whenever he saw Eddie talking to The Asshole.

Maybe not all hope is lost.

“Rough day?” Buck asks, nodding towards Eddie’s ankle.

“Think I just landed on it weird,” Eddie says. “You did really great.”

“I think the judges would say otherwise, but thanks. You were really great, too.” They swim in a semi-comfortable silence as Buck gets changed. He waffles back and forth on what to say, if it’s actually even worth saying anything at all despite what Maddie said, until he faces Eddie again and blurts out, “So are you gonna go to dinner with that Russian guy?”

Eddie just blinks at him for a second before he starts laughing. It’s not a mean laugh, it’s more like a I can’t believe you just said something that dumb laugh. Maddie has a laugh that’s very similar.

He’s still catching his breath a bit when he answers. “No, no I’m not going to dinner with that guy. You know him, right? He’s a total douche. Pretty sure he was actually holding a flex whenever he was talking to me.”

Buck sits on his bed and tries to keep his own laugh in, worried that it would come out hysterical with relief. Not that he ever really doubted Eddie’s taste or ability to take care of himself. It’s just...nice to have it confirmed.

“Plus,” Eddie says as he gets his composure back fully, “I, uh, told him I’m interested in someone else anyway. So hopefully he’ll back off for good.”

Buck freezes, his eyes locked on Eddie’s. A wave of guilt washes over him so suddenly it makes him nauseous. As dumb as his friends may think he is, he’s not that dumb — he knows what he asked of Eddie when he put this thing of theirs on hold. But hearing that Eddie’s following through, seeing it in action — it doesn’t sit right with him. It makes him feel like he’s imposing, like he’s taking away part of Eddie’s life just for the vague chance that they could have something, something that’s not even guaranteed no matter how right it feels to Buck even now.

“Eddie,” he starts, waffling again, “if you want— I mean you shouldn’t have to— I don’t want you waiting around for— for me, for us, if that’s not something you’re interested in anymore.”

There’s a beat before Eddie moves, tossing his book and the ice pack aside. He stands gingerly, favoring his left side just a little bit, and shushes Buck when he tries to protest. He crosses the short distance between their beds slowly, like he’s trying to make sure Buck doesn’t bolt before he gets to him. Carefully, he reaches down to take both of Buck’s hands in his, moving until he’s standing just between Buck’s legs. When Buck doesn’t look up (partially out of embarrassment, and partially out of marveling at how warm and good Eddie’s hands feel in his), he squeezes gently until he gets his attention. Buck finally manages to lift his head, and is met with a look so full of fondness it takes his breath away.

Eddie lets out a slow breath through his nose. “I wasn’t kidding when I said it meant something,” he says quietly, unwilling to disturb the bubble of peace they seem to form when they’re together. “So I’m still very interested. And I really don't mind the waiting. It’s only three months — we’ll be too stressed and working too hard to think about anything else anyway.”

Buck tries to talk around the lump in his throat, but he can’t, so he just nods instead, squeezing Eddie’s hands back. Something loosens in his chest, a tension he thought was coming from agonizing over his programs and his protocols, but maybe not. Maybe he’s come to rely on Eddie, on his friendship and general presence, more than he thought he has over the past few months. That confirmation that they’re moving toward something, together, makes him feel grounded in a way that he hasn’t felt in weeks.

They stay in their bubble for a little bit longer, and Buck feels himself calm even more. Eventually, Eddie squeezes his hands one more time, whispering “goodnight, Buck” before pulling away and getting back in his bed. He turns the lights off, the room falling into darkness, and Buck drifts off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Something’s definitely wrong. Maybe it was minor yesterday, but after landing on his ankle eight more times during his free, Eddie’s clearly favoring his left side and in a whole lot of pain. It’s clear to Buck, at least — to anyone else, Eddie is all grace and smiles as usual, easily taking first place with no way for anyone else to beat him, even with three skaters left.

But Buck knows, knows Eddie and knows that feeling of trying to push through the pain better than anyone, but he doesn’t have time to do anything about it — talk to Eddie, talk to Bobby, talk to someone — before it’s his turn to skate. He tries to shove the worry down, but that raspy little voice is back in his head, whispering about all the worst things that could be happening to Eddie, and all the worst things that could happen to him again if he fucks up his own landings. Visions of cracked bones and bandaged cuts fly through his head — flashbacks to months of bitterness and rage and uncertainty. The panic at his dream potentially slipping away from him again floods his chest and makes it hard to breathe. He swears he feels his leg seize up, just like it used to, just like it hasn’t in over a year until right now, but can’t figure out if it’s real or not.

His music starts just as his spiral does.

The first fall is, technically, his fault. He’s too close to the boards for his triple axel, so he can either crash into them when he lands or stop short and hit the ice. He loses points either way, but in the split second he has to think about it, the latter seems less embarrassing and less painful. As he stands back up, he quickly does the math in his head. Accounting for his average component scores and any potential tech panel biases, he really, really cannot afford any more screw ups. 

So, naturally, he falls again.

It’s the jolt this time — that fear that grips his entire body when he sees the ice so far below him, the memory of landing so incorrectly that he couldn’t walk for three weeks, couldn’t skate for even longer. And it’s all laced with worry for Eddie, who he knows is watching from the side, no ice on his ankle and still standing on it, trying to ignore something that’s only going to get worse. Maybe it’s projection, but he wouldn’t wish the misery he went through on anyone, not even Eddie when he couldn’t stand the sight of him, and especially not Eddie now.

He finishes by sheer force of will, his stubbornness and perfectionism overcoming his panic long enough to get him through his last step sequence and spins and to hit his final pose with a smile. The applause feels genuine, but he knows it’s not enough. It’s not even close to enough.

He finishes fifth in free skate, fourth overall, and he knows before he even sees the complete standings that he’s not going to the Final.

Luckily, since he finishes off podium, he doesn’t have any post-competition pressers or photo ops or reasons to slap on a fake smile for anyone. He goes back to his room and packs up so he has something to do with his hands. Maddie and May both text him about doing something with their last night in Japan, but the thought of going out and talking to his friends about their successes against his own failures kind of makes him want to throw up. Instead, he turns off his phone and finds a Japanese dub of Goonies playing on cable and burrows into bed in an attempt to get his brain to shut up for the first time all day.

When burrowing doesn’t work, he squishes himself into the armchair by the TV instead.

When that still doesn’t work, he paces.

That’s what he’s doing when Eddie gets back, looking worn out but still smiling, ribbon of his gold medal dangling out of his warm up jacket pocket. He waves goodbye to whoever is on the outside the door, but as soon as it’s closed, the act drops. Buck watches him sink against the door and lets out a long breath, grimacing as he tests out putting full weight on his right ankle.

Whatever anxiety Buck had managed to pace off (which really wasn’t a lot) comes back in full force, and he’s at Eddie’s side in three long steps.

“You’re hurt,” he says matter-of-factly.

Eddie shakes his head. “It’s just really sore, Buck, it’ll be better when I finally get to rest it.”

“No, it won’t be,” Buck snaps as he strides towards the ice bucket in the corner of the room to start filling up a bag. “You’ll think it’s getting better, and you’ll keep taking painkillers to take the edge off, but it’ll just keep getting worse, and you won’t even know it until your PT finally tells you it’s either two months off your feet to let it heal properly or you risk never being able to compete again.” He almost rips the bag in half as he finishes filling it with ice. He wraps it in a spare towel and shoves it at Eddie, who takes it gingerly before sitting on his bed and placing it on his ankle.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Eddie says. 

Buck shrugs. He might know a thing or two about trying to force healing too quickly and ignoring pain, about getting a cast off two weeks too early and almost having his bone heal crooked. But his issues are not what’s important right now. 

What’s important is Eddie.

“Look, can you just—” Buck sits on the bed next to Eddie, hovering over him like he can use his body to shield Eddie from anything else that might hurt him. “Just promise me you’ll get it checked when we get home, okay? Don’t put it off, don’t wait until after the Final—”

“Hey,” Eddie says, his hand coming to Buck’s shoulder and squeezing. “I’ll go, I promise. First appointment I can get.” Buck nods, and Eddie nods with him, thumb softly pressing against his pulse point. He doesn’t feel better, but he feels less buzzy, less like he’s dangling off the edge of a cliff by the tips of his fingers.

Buck nods again, decisively, before quickly squeezing Eddie’s wrist and standing. Eddie catches his hand before he makes it very far, his eyes filled with an intensity he hasn’t seen off the ice.

“I’m okay,” he says firmly, reassuringly. “We’re okay. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

You don’t know that, Buck thinks, but he just quirks a smile instead before heading to the bathroom.

He closes the door behind him, sinks to the floor, and tries to let any worse case scenarios push him back over the edge.

~~~~~~~~~~

[from: Eddie] It’s a stress fracture

[from: Eddie] They said if I had landed on it a few more times it would have been much worse

[from: Eddie] Glad I listened to you

Buck feels a weird sense of relief and unease as he reads Eddie’s texts. The door to Bobby’s office shuts behind him, the sounds of the rink muffled to a dull murmur. He’s not sure why he’s here — he hasn’t done anything to get him in trouble, and they literally had practice together an hour ago.

Bobby sits at his desk, hands folded in front of him. “So I’m not sure if you heard, but Eddie—”

“—has a stress fracture in his ankle, yeah, he just told me.”

Bobby smirks before continuing. “He’ll be out for the next six weeks at least, so he’ll be missing the Final.” He pauses for what feels like dramatic effect.

Buck scrunches his brow. “Right. But what does that have to do with me? I’m second alternate, that kid from Japan should be taking his spot.”

“And he is,” Bobby says. “But the skater from Canada who qualified also has to withdraw. I guess a bad case of the stomach flu has been going through their team. He won’t be back in shape by next weekend, which means—”

“I’m in,” Buck says quietly.

Bobby nods. “You’re in.”

Buck’s first reaction is to laugh. A high pitched, hysterical laugh because he really can’t believe this is happening. He screwed up, screwed up bad, but he’s getting a second chance, by some twist of fate or intervention from the universe or however the hell this happened. Bobby keeps talking about flights and practice schedules, and Buck hears him, but not really, because all he feels is relieved. Relieved that his Olympic chances maybe won’t be as squashed as he thought, and relieved that he gets a chance to prove himself again, to show that he can deliver and that he’s worthy.

That’s all he’s ever trying to do, really.

He leaves Bobby’s office practically floating, already texting Hen about when they can meet and tweaks he wants to make that will push his programs that much closer to perfect. He’s in the middle of calling Maddie when he gets a text back, pulling it up as she starts listing all the program improvements she has planned for her and Chim to work on since they didn’t make the Final themselves.

It’s not from Hen like he expects, it’s from Eddie — a picture of him laid up on a couch, foot in an air cast but still smiling at the camera.

[from: Eddie] Told you I’d take care of myself. I’ll be cheering you on from here

It hits him then, and he plummets back down to Earth at the reminder.

Eddie’s not coming with him.

He gets to try and keep his Olympic dreams alive, while Eddie stays home and hopes that he does enough to be healthy in time for Nationals.

A year ago, he’d be stupidly smug about a change of events like this. Now, it just makes his stomach twist and sympathy and sadness. He’ll be facing this competition alone — without his friend, his fiercest competition, his...Eddie — and no matter how much easier it might be for him to stay focused, alone is the last thing he wants to be.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #fs au #ficcery

[hearteyesemergency]

The Day In Which Buck Receives Nothing But Pictures From The Diaz Boy’s

Request: I know the prompt 153 ("stop sending me weird pictures") means something else. But I couldn't help but think Chris stole Eddie's phone and it's sending Buck all types of weird pictures. Maybe ones that were already on his phone, maybe his taking new pics himself. Eddie doesn't know, and thinks he lost his phone or something. Buck doesn't know either and this is actually Eddie who sends him the pics.

A/N: When I tell you I damn near screamed at Chris texting Buck from Eddie’s phone without his knowledge... this was the best request ever, thank you so much! I really hope you enjoy this. It didn’t get long enough when I just did Chris sending photos, so I added a little segment at the end of Eddie sending photos too, a little nsfw. And also a few point of view changes in this one as well.

Summary: Eddie thinks he’s lost his phone, Buck has been receiving really weird photo’s from him all day. Something doesn’t add up, and there’s one cheeky little human to blame for it. Later, Buck decides he’s going to send his own interesting photo’s to Eddie, and Eddie might just send them back.

Warnings: Mild sexual themes.

Buck pulled his arm out of the warmth of his covers, and reached over to where his phone had buzzed three times against the side table. He groaned as the cool air hit his bare skin, and quickly retracted it, phone in tow.

He frowned when the screen lit up again. A little picture box was joined to the text notification, but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. He took notice of the contact being Eddie before he unlocked the phone and took a closer look.

The first picture was of a seatbelt, the next a blurry picture out of a car window, another almost too blurry to make out, but Buck was sure it was of shoes. He figured maybe Eddie hadn’t noticed his phone was unlocked, and he had accidentally texted him a few times.

When no more notifications came through, he figured Eddie had realised and locked his phone, and Buck decided to try his best and go back to sleep. He still had a couple of hours before Maddie’s check up that he insisted on accompanying her to. Buck hadn’t slept much since he‘d been back at work, so he thought he best take this opportunity to catch up.

A few hours went by before Buck got another text message. This picture was of a rack full of school bags, and the man frowned. It was unlike Eddie to have his phone out on a job, but that was the furthest thing from his mind. All Buck could think was god he hoped that no children were in danger wherever Eddie was. The worst jobs were always the ones with kids.

The next message he received a half hour later while in a consult with Maddie, and he couldn’t help but smile. A hand printed in paint on a piece of paper, drawn around like a flower. Buck wasn’t too sure what game Eddie was playing with him today, but he had to admit, he kind of liked it. In a way, it made Buck feel like he was right there with him. And if there was anything in the world Buck hated, it was being away from work, and being away from Eddie.

As the day went on, Buck got more and more photo’s. One of a sandwich, one of a middle aged woman he’d never met before. There was a play ground, a library, a basketball court. He decided not to ask his best friend about it now, he’d call him when Eddie’s shift would be over, in the meantime, he thought he’d send him a teasing text.

He hoped Eddie would read the lightheartedness, but just to be sure, he added an emoji.

‘Stop sending me weird pictures 😏’

~

Eddie had damn near turned his locker upside down looking for his phone. He knew he had taken it in the car with them this morning when he left home, but he hadn’t been able to find it since.

Maybe he had left it at his Abuela’s, he thought, but it was so unlike him to go anywhere without it. What if Chris needed him? Eddie pushed the thought that brought panic with it down, and slammed his locker closed. Maybe one of the other 118 firefighters had accidentally picked it up.

He ascended the stairs up to the dining area three at a time. His hands had started to sweat a little, and he was panicky. He certainly couldn’t afford a new phone, and he couldn’t go without one in case his son needed him. He had to find it.

“Has anyone seen my phone anywhere?”

“No, why?” Hen asked,

“Did you lose it?” Cap assumed,

“I can’t find it anywhere, maybe it’s under the seat of my truck-“

Eddie was cut off by the sound of the alarm, and forgot about his cell completely as he and the team raced to put on their gear. He’d have to check underneath the seats later.

By the evening, Eddie still couldn’t find where his phone had gone. When he had picked up Chris, all safe and sound, he tried to retrace all of their morning steps, but with no luck. He didn’t want to be lectured, so he had tried to do so as subtly as possible.

He hoped that Buck would be home, and that he was okay with visitors, because they were coming over whether he liked it or not. Chris needed some Buck time today, and honestly, so did Eddie. Eddie made a mental note to memorise Buck’s number later, in case there was ever a next time. In the meantime, he hoped Buck would have an old phone he could borrow.

The smile on Buck’s face when he opened the door to them put Eddie a little at ease. Chris flew right into his arms, and Eddie may as well have done the same right afterward. Buck seemed a little taken back, though hugged Eddie anyway, comfort still breaking through the confusion. Buck was warm, and Eddie really didn’t want to let go.

~

“Hey, guys! Wasn’t expecting you,”

“Sorry,” Eddie apologised as he pulled out of Buck’s arms, “just thought it’d be nice to spend some time with our Buck,”

“Always... Did you not go to work today?” Buck asked,

“Of course I did. Why?”

“You were sending me pictures all day,”

“No, I wasn’t, I can’t even find my phone- Wait, pictures of what? What if someone stole it?”

Eddie was back in the man’s personal space as Buck fished his phone out, and scrolled right back up to the first photo before he let Eddie have a close look. He scrolled quickly, and then slowly, before he paused, head shot in the direction of his son.

“Chris, did you take my phone today?”

“Yeah,”

“Why?” Eddie demanded, “I’ve been looking for it all day, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, sorry, Dad. I didn’t know,”

“Wait, then why were you sending me pictures all day?” Buck wondered, as they made their way over to Chris,

“You said one day you wanted to take me to school, but you never had time because you were always at work with Dad. So I thought I would show you.”

Buck’s heart melted out on the floor beneath him. This kid had the biggest heart in the world. Though Eddie had started to lightly scold Christopher again, telling him that next time he should just let Eddie know that’s what he’s doing, Buck pulled him into a tight hug.

He heard Eddie sigh behind them, and knew that he had let all his anger go surrounding the situation. Buck hugged the little boy a little tighter before he picked him up, and sandwiched him between himself and Eddie. Chris laughed, and Eddie hugged back, trapping his son between their bodies.

The rest of the night went by much like that. Lots of laughing, nonstop smiles, piled together on the couch with video games and funny YouTube videos. Buck was on cloud nine, these were the nights that he lived for, and he hated the late hours when he had to say goodbye.

Buck’s phone buzzed a few minutes after the Diaz boys left, and he smiled when he noticed a text from Eddie’s number. He opened it to find a selfie the two boys had just taken pulling crazy faces. He laughed, and before he had really thought about his words, sent back a text.

‘I love it. Awesome selfie, miss you guys already. Drive safe, I love you’

With the little woosh sound of a sent text message, Buck’s stomach sank. Fuck, not only had he just used the word love in the context of Chis and Eddie, but he’d done so twice. He hoped Eddie wouldn’t notice, or if he did, that he wouldn’t bring it up.

He panicked for a few minutes before his phone buzzed again. He took a deep breath to calm himself, then unlocked it with only one eye open. He was met with another selfie, this one darker than the other. It looked like Eddie was stopped at a red light, both boys eyes toward the camera, blowing Buck a kiss.

He chuckled, and the tension melted out of his shoulders.

‘We love you too, Buck’

He may have hugged his phone to his chest after that and smiled like an idiot for an hour, but if you asked him, he’d deny it.

~

Eddie put Chris right to bed when they arrived home, and promised that he would ask Bobby if he and Buck could have a morning off to take Buck and show him around Chris’ school. Probably not the best thing to promise an over-excitable kid right before bedtime, but Eddie got through it, and eventually managed to relax him into unconsciousness.

He couldn’t help but look back on the day now and laugh. It wasn’t funny at the time, but honestly his son had a heart of gold- Eddie wondered where he got it from, it was far too big for one person. All Eddie wanted to do was protect him, and he was so grateful that Buck had taken Christopher’s attachment to him so well and seriously.

At the thought of Buck, he retrieved his phone off the kitchen bench, and thought for five minutes before he even had the start of a text message to Buck. He typed and backspaced nearly thirty times before he just left it at ‘hey.’

He was nervous as he waited for a reply. He wasn’t sure why, probably because he had absolutely no reason to speak to Buck, yet here he was, fishing for a conversation.

‘Buck: Hey... No weird photo’s this time? 😉’

‘None. Promise’

‘Buck: Too bad’

Eddie’s stomach did a flip. What did that mean? What was he supposed to send to Buck, was there some kind of game between them now that he had missed? He twiddled his thumbs above the screen as he thought, did he have a photo he could send? What did Buck expect?

Eddie was drawn out of his brain when a photo popped up on his screen, and he enlarged it instantly. It was of Buck, a selfie, he was half sprawled across the couch, shirt pulled half way up, abs on full display. He had pulled a face, but Eddie wasn’t focused on that in the least.

This was a very specific photo. He could’ve just sent a stupid face, a remake of a photo Eddie and Chris sent earlier, but no. Buck had gone to the effort of getting half his body in the shot, and it wasn’t a coincidence.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to reply, with another photo he assumed, but what if they weren’t thinking on the same wavelength. What if he took Buck’s selfie way out of context?

After a few minutes of contemplation, Eddie decided to just go for it, and take a shirtless photo in the bathroom mirror. At least if he’s read the situation wrong, he could brush it off as a joke, like he was just proving his abs were better than Buck’s- and they definitely were.

He stripped his shirt off as he made his way into the bathroom. He focused way too hard on the pose and the lighting, but eventually he forced himself to hit send before he obsessed over it any longer. It was Buck, not a model recruitment agency.

Eddie threw his phone across the bed as he kicked out of his jeans and tossed them aside with his shirt. He stretched, trying to dissolve some of the tension he felt in his shoulders. He couldn’t check his messages fast enough when his phone buzzed, near tripping over his own feet as he searched for it.

He opened the text up and flushed red. Buck was shirtless now too, off the couch and in bed, his sweatpants far too low on his hips, showing off enough skin to make Eddie’s cheeks burn. If they were any lower Eddie would’ve seen his- the thought sent a shiver through him. Now he had to find a way to one up Buck.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to go all in with this, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go photo-wise before he wasn’t wearing any clothing at all. Eddie settled in the end on a video, from collarbones to the waist band on his jocks, sat slightly higher than Buck’s had been. He really tried to catch the definition of his muscles in the low light. He had noticed Buck seemed to be very intrigued by those when they worked out.

Eddie had gotten far more into whatever this was than he had expected. He found himself waiting uncomfortably for whatever Buck would send next. When his Snapchat notification came through instead of a text, Eddie was pretty sure what he was about to be met with. Yet still, when he opened the video he felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs, and a pit of fire started in his stomach.

~

Buck didn’t know how to start a conversation with Eddie as they stood in the kitchen area together. After last night, he wasn’t sure what they were, or how into it Eddie was. The only thing he was really sure of was that Horny Buck didn’t deserve rights. He put present Buck in a very uncomfortable position, and he wasn’t good with awkward.

“So... we should maybe talk about last night,” Buck suggested,

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, “yeah, I guess we should,”

“It was nice, right?”

“Not sure they’re the words I’d use,” Eddie admitted,

“What words would you use?”

Eddie blushed.

Buck wasn’t sure if that settled the panic in his stomach, or set it off. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up, maybe it was just a one time thing for Eddie. Just a spur of the moment, go along with the game Buck started because he didn’t want to be rude, thing.

“We didn’t really think about the consequences of this last night, did we?”

Buck shook his head, “no, we didn’t,”

“Yet now that’s all I can think about... well... not all, but...”

Buck finally looked to Eddie at his side. Did that mean? No, maybe, who knew anymore, he just needed Eddie to say something.

“Alright then I’ll talk, but if this gets weird, it’s all on you,” Eddie pointed an accusatory finger at Buck, “what we did last night... I really liked it,”

Buck let go of the breath he’d held, and slipped into a smile, “yeah... yeah, me too,”

“And I wouldn’t be mad if it happened again,” Eddie admitted,

“Me either... or you know, like... in person,” Buck toed at the ground.

The air between them was silent for a moment, and then he felt Eddie take a step closer, hip pressed to hip. Buck dared a look up, and was instantly met with Eddie’s eyes on his. The air was thick between them now, and Buck wasn’t too sure what to do with it. He knew what the old Buck would do, but he wouldn’t risk ruining whatever this was.

Eddie stepped into him, bodies briefly pressed together as Eddie placed a light kiss on Buck’s lips and then backed off.

“Really? That’s it?” Buck looked at him,

“We’re at work, what else do you want me to do?”

“You really wanna know?”

“Buck,” Eddie scolded, “later.”

Eddie started to walk away after that, and Buck called out to him. Later, what did that mean? What was this now? Buck would have to wait an agonising few hours before he could find out, but he sure wasn’t disappointed when he did.

#Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #911 #Buck x Eddie #writing #911 on fox #911 fox #911 prompt #buddie #buddie prompt #Eddie x Buck #buddie oneshot #Buck and Eddie #Eddie and Buck

[tripleaxeldiaz]

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 3/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

The two weeks before Skate America breeze by, every hour filled with skating or conditioning or trying not to creep on message boards to see what people are predicting for the season. Buck feels good, the best he’s ever felt this early on. He tries to reign it in, that voice in his head reminding him that he could still lose it all at any moment, but it’s muffled and quiet and easy to ignore.

He’s also been seeing more of Eddie, now that he knows he’s not the douchebag he always assumed he was. They condition together, watch each other's jumping passes and offer tips, even take their lunch break together, talking about everything skating and some non skating things too. It’s easy and nice and the best parts of Buck’s days, if he’s honest. He maybe always thinks about talking to Eddie, picking his brain for his thoughts on various skaters’ programs, watching him laugh with his whole body at some snarky comment Buck makes about someone’s horrible choice in costume. Buck likes the way he laughs, likes the way he feels a little warmer when he makes him laugh.

He should have known this brief bubble of happiness would be popped sooner rather than later.

The day before they leave, he and Maddie get an email — an email — from their mother, inviting them to dinner while they’re in town for the competition. To say Buck’s surprised would be an understatement.

“How’d they even find out it’s in Reading this year? Did you tell them?”

Maddie rolls her eyes, stabbing her salad with a little more force than necessary. “I haven’t spoken to them in longer than you have, so no. They’ve probably seen ads or something.”

“We could lie, tell them Bobby’s really strict about non-skating things during competitions?”

“Sure, but then they might just call Bobby on their own and blow our whole cover.”

“We could tell them we’re sick? Food poisoning? Then miraculously get better?”

“If that didn’t work when you tried to get out of taking your SAT, I don’t think it’ll work this time, either.”

“I wasn’t even planning on going to college, why did I—” Buck huffs as Maddie shakes her head at him sympathetically.

There’s really no way for them to get out of this.

The thing is, their parents aren’t bad people — a doctor and a PR manager who are on every non-profit board in the county, volunteer at the local animal shelter, and donate plenty of money to plenty of charities. As parents, though, they somehow manage an interesting balance of using their children’s successes for their own bragging rights and making them feel like they’re always just shy of good enough. They supported them growing up, sure, paid their way through lessons and competitions before endorsements started coming in, but it always felt like it was serving their own clout more than helping Buck and Maddie follow their dreams. When they moved out to LA, it was easy to distance themselves, rescheduling calls indefinitely until their parents eventually just stopped trying. 

The last time Buck talked to them was right after his leg surgery — they called under the guise of “checking in on him”, but spent most of the call figuring out the quickest way to get him back to practice, offering to pay for extra surgeries and PT to speed up the process. He’s sure they thought they were helping, but it felt more like they were eager for him to get back to winning medals so they could tell their friends about it. 

As much as he loves to win, it’s not the same when someone else is pushing you more than you’re pushing yourself. 

He sighs again, slumping down in his chair. He hadn’t been nervous at all about Skate America, but now the itch of self doubt has made a home right under his skin, and it wasn’t even for a skating reason. Maddie reaches across the table to grab his wrist, squeezing lightly. 

“It’ll be two hours max, then we’ll make an excuse about early practice and leave. It won’t be that bad.”

Buck nods, turning back to his lunch, suddenly not hungry as his stomach continues to churn.

~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t expect to get this nostalgic, but the familiar drive toward Reading and the Sovereign Center (Santander Arena now, because capitalism is a prison) fills him with jittery excitement and a weird sense of calm, just like it did when he was a kid competing in the regional circuit. The arena was a palace compared to their rink in Hershey, and it always made him want to skate well enough to be worthy of the ice there. It’s where he won his first medal ever, his first gold, his first trip to Nationals, and would hopefully now serve as a stepping stone once again, this time leading him towards Beijing.

Eddie’s lounging on his bed, shirtless and flipping channels, when Buck gets to their room. It wasn’t a surprise this time — they’d requested to room together anyway — but seeing Eddie like this, soft and relaxed and somehow at home in a hotel room, makes Buck’s heart flip a little bit. 

Buck’s heart has been flipping a lot around Eddie, and making him think about stupid things like kissing him and how his abs would feel under his fingertips and how he’d prefer his eggs in the morning. It’s taking up a lot of real estate in his brain, and it’s going to get even worse now that they’re sleeping 10 feet away from each other, he’s sure.

That doesn’t stop him from sneaking glances at Eddie while he unpacks. Just to get it out of his system so he can focus. 

It’s fine.

He can totally handle this.

~~~~~~~~~~

Skata America is a much bigger deal than ACI — more cameras, more interviews, more people watching in the stands and on TV. That should mean it’s all more intimidating, too, but Buck is thriving under the lights and camera lenses. This will be the first real chance to show people — not just skating people, but everyone — what he can do, and the anticipation of how it will be received buzzes through him constantly. That buzz practically dictates his every move through practices and his short, finally ceasing as he hits his final pose. It’s quickly replaced by elation — he knows he nailed everything, he knows the resounding applause is deserved.

He knows he’s in first place before they even announce his score.

When they do, he’s right, and he’s thrilled, but there’s also a pang of disappointment, because the margin is tight — only three points between him and Eddie in second. Bobby hands him his protocols in the green room, and his stomach clenches when he sees that his step sequence and his sit spin were downgraded to level threes. His brain starts spinning, mentally combing through every revolution and edge to figure out where the hell he fucked up, when he feels a warm, solid hand on his shoulder. He looks up and sees Eddie, but instead of pity like he expected (or gloating like he feared), he just sees understanding in his eyes, maybe even a hint of the same irritation he’s feeling.

“They screwed me over too, my camel should have had a plus three GOE at least.” Eddie says, squeezing Buck’s shoulder. Somehow, he’s already feeling better.

“I bet it was the French judge, he’s always been a conniving bastard.”

“We could take him out, we have time before tomorrow.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Buck says, as Eddie offers his hand and pulls him up to stand. He tries not to miss the warmth when he lets go.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie says quietly as they make their way around skaters and coaches in the hallway toward the press room, “I think you should be at least 10 points ahead, if not more. You were something else out there.”

Buck can’t make his brain come up with a proper response by the time they take their seats on the makeshift stage in front of the reports, so all he can do is smile and hope it comes across as totally chill and not as dopey as it feels.

Eddie smiles back, and Buck thinks he’s beautiful.

The presser goes just as expected — a few questions lobbed at the Candian skater currently in third, more for Buck since he’s in first, but the most still go to Eddie. Being the favorite for Olympic gold doesn’t go away after half a competition, and the reporters are rabid as ever. Buck’s seen Eddie’s press routine — the humble charm and gracious smiles, cracking jokes like he’s talking to friends and not a bunch of strangers with tape recorders. He’d spent years mentally rolling his eyes at what he thought was the fakeness of it all, but after getting closer to Eddie, he knows that’s just how Eddie is. Kind and patient, actively listening to what people are saying, taking his time to form thoughtful answers. 

But whatever’s happening now is not the Eddie he knows — his laughs are forced and almost too loud, his smile is tight and boarding on a grimace. He keeps fidgeting with his credentials and the sleeve of his Team USA zip-up, eyes darting around like he’s charting his path to get out of the room as fast as possible once they’re done. 

He’s nervous. Buck doesn’t think he’s ever seen him nervous, at least not like this, and it’s honestly a little unsettling. So much so that all Buck wants to do is fix it, bring the light back to Eddie’s eyes, bleed the tension out of his shoulders.

There’s probably not an easy way to do that while answering questions about his performance.

He waits until he sees the “wrap it up” signal from the event worker off to the side, the next reporter giving one last question to the Canadian skater. He doesn’t think about it too hard, just stretches his leg a little to the right, slowly, until he and Eddie are ankle to ankle. It’s not much, but Eddie still looks over at him, first confused and then grateful, a small, real smile on his face, his shoulders falling away from his ears.

Eddie’s quiet on the ride back to the hotel, but he looks calmer, listening to everyone else talk about their events and what could happen tomorrow during free skates. He’s still jittery though, leg bouncing as he sits next to Buck on the bus. Whatever was bothering him during interviews is clearly still lingering, and Buck has to fight the urge to reach out and calm his shaking with a hand on his knee. 

They make it back to their room, door barely clicking in place behind them, before Buck breaks.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Eddie freezes in front of him, half turned around like he was about to ask Buck something before he steamrolled over him. “You seemed stressed during the presser and on the ride back, and I just...wanted to make sure you’re good.”

Eddie looks stunned for a second before letting out a breath, hand rubbing over his face. “I knew this would happen, you know? The extra attention. It happened after Pyeongchang and the bronze medal, but it died down eventually. I thought I’d have more time to mentally prepare for it again, I guess.” He shakes his head, hand falling to his side as he shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “Today was just a lot.”

Buck nods, patting Eddie’s arm in understanding because he gets it. Most of the time he basks in any form of attention, but some days the lights are too hot and the voices are too loud and faking a smile through it is impossible. The one Buck sees now is real though, he knows it, and he’s happy to see Eddie relaxing now that they’re away from the vultures.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ll be out of your hair tonight, so you’ll have plenty of time to yourself,” Buck says, crossing the room to his bed, digging through his bag for his dinner clothes.

“Where are you going?” Eddie asks, and when Buck looks back at him as he heads to the bathroom to change, he swears he looks disappointed, briefly, before it shifts to confusion. “We don’t have any team stuff tonight, right?”

“Nah, Maddie and I got suckered into dinner with our parents.”

“Are Buckley family dinners always black tie affairs?” he asks when Buck comes back in slacks and a white button down, struggling to knot his tie. 

“No, but they told us to dress nicely, so we’re probably going to some fancy restaurant downtown. Knowing them, we’ll also be dragged to some party one of their friends is having that’s conveniently close by.”

He groans in frustration when his tie comes out crooked again, and Eddie laughs, taking pity on him and coming to do it himself. Buck tries to keep cool, willing his cheeks not to turn red, but it’s hard when he can feel Eddie’s breath on his chin, feel his fingers run across his collarbones, and he’s so close, if he just leaned in— 

“Sounds like it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Buck sighs through his nose. “I love my parents, they’re just...better from a distance.”

Eddie winces in what looks like sympathy, smoothing Buck’s tie and the front of his shirt as he finishes. Buck misses the motion as soon as it’s gone.

“Maybe they’ll prove you wrong this time,” Eddie says.

Buck rolls his eyes at that, but can’t help a small part of him desperately hoping that Eddie will be right.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie is so wrong.

Not only is there a party, it’s a party at their parent’s house, which is in full swing by the time Buck and Maddie pull up in their Lyft. Their mother opens the door, hair up, dress immaculate, lipstick-stained wine glass perched precariously in her hand.

“Evan! Maddie! Come in, so glad you could join us!” She kisses both their cheeks and hugs them quickly before taking their hands and dragging them deeper into the house. There are people everywhere, some faces Buck remembers and some new ones. There are waiters milling around too, passing bacon wrapped figs and mini bruschetta, and Buck feels his stomach rumble.

“So I guess we’re not doing dinner, huh Mom?” Buck asks, trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. Judging by the look Maddie gives him, he’s not doing a great job.

Their mother, of course, doesn’t bat an eye. “Sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t realize we were double booked, and we’d already moved this party once. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen though, you can eat after I’ve introduced you to some people. Everyone’s so excited to hear about how you’re doing. Philip, there you are!” Buck spots his father too, a head above the crowd, tie loose and cheeks flushed. He shakes Buck’s hand firmly, kisses Maddie on the top of her head, and is gone in an instant when someone beckons him towards the bar set up on the back wall of the living room.

“Nice to see you, too. We’re doing fine, thanks for asking!” Buck says under his breath before their mother is whisking them away again. 

They spend the next hour flitting between couples — the Whiteheads, the Culls, the Carters, and a bunch of others he can’t differentiate — getting whiplash from their mother’s flipping between actual praise and backhanded compliments.

“Evan’s one of the top skaters in the country, though not as highly ranked as he was before his accident. We’re hoping he’ll be back up there by the time the Olympics roll around so he’ll make the team.”

“Maddie’s been with her partner for about three years now, right darling? They don’t have as many golds as she had with Doug, but they do skate well together.”

“Yes, that skater from Japan is very good Rebecca, you’re right! Evan, do you know him? Maybe he can give you some pointers about your edges going into your spins? I know you struggle with those.”

On and on and on, Buck and Maddie barely able to get a word in. They see their father only a few times, and each time he’s gone as quickly as he comes, pulled away by colleagues or board members or whoever it is they’re entertaining tonight. Buck is exhausted, and not just because it’s been a long day already, but from having to keep up the good natured laughs and graciousness when he doesn’t even feel like a person. He feels more like a trophy, being shuttled from room to room to be admired for a while before being shoved into a closet where no one can see you. Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen — their parents will tout them around for the night, send them back to the hotel, and not speak to them again until they need something.

Buck really forgot just how small this big house can make him feel.

Eventually, he breaks away, making an excuse about needing the restroom before quietly sneaking up the back staircase to the second floor. Maddie finds him 15 minutes later, sliding down to sit next to him in the guest room closet.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” she says, and Buck smiles weakly. He hid in here a lot when he was a kid, sometimes with Maddie and sometimes alone. When it was all too much — the pressure from their parents or his coach or himself — this is where he came to quiet his brain. The darkness and the smell of the cedar chest full of their mother’s old sweaters was comforting, and it wrapped around him like a blanket until he could breathe again. 

“None of their habits have died, that’s for sure,” he says. “Is it sad that I thought they would?”

“It’s not sad to hope for better. It’s just hard when all that hope is for nothing.”

Buck sighs, head thumping against the wall. Maddie threads her arm through his and rests her head on his shoulder. They sit like that for a while, quiet, both in their own heads, though he’s sure Maddie is thinking about and wishing for the same things he is. 

He shifts eventually, head resting on top of hers. “Can we go yet? We could probably sneak out the back door. If they haven’t come looking for us yet, they definitely won’t notice.”

“Should we just go back to the hotel? It’s only 8:30.”

“What else are we gonna do?”

Maddie types furiously on her phone for a minute. “Chim, Hen, and May are down to hang out. And WhirlyDome is open until midnight.”

“That place is still around?”

“Apparently, and they have half price appetizers after 9.”

The thought of mozzarella sticks and onion rings makes his stomach growl loudly again. “Alright, let’s do it. But I’m inviting Eddie too.”

Maddie just smirks at him, getting up and out of the closet before he has a chance to ask what the look was for. 

It would just be rude not to invite him.

And maybe part of Buck wishes he had stayed in with Eddie tonight from the start.

[to: Eddie] tonight sucked. we’re going to play whirlyball and eat fried food. u in?

[from: Eddie] ????? What the hell is whirlyball?

[to: Eddie] omg now u HAVE to come. meet us here in half an hour

He sends the address and does not smile like an idiot when Eddie says he’ll see him soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So it’s...bumper cars?”

“Bumper cars plus lacrosse plus basketball, kind of. It’s super fun and only a little dangerous.”

“Can I watch for a bit first?”

“Sorry Eds, first timers have to play. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Eddie still looks skeptical as they get ready for the next game, carefully sitting in the car and picking up his scoop. 

A bell rings and the cars come to life, rumbling around the room as everyone starts scrambling for the ball. It takes about 30 seconds for Eddie to get the hang of steering, and by the end of the first game, no one would ever guess he’d never played before. He leads their team to three victories in a row, laughing and cheering loudly along with everyone else, like he hadn’t been overwhelmed with anxiety just a few hours earlier. Something warms in Buck at the thought that he helped with that smile, and it’s a feeling he thinks he could get used to, a job he wouldn’t mind having if it meant Eddie was this happy more often than not.

Despite it all — despite good friends and good food and the feeling of Eddie’s shoulder pressed against his, Buck still feels the tendrils of doubt and panic floating around him. They’re bad enough during competitions normally, but pair them with what happened at his parents’ house — being reminded of how he’ll never live up to their lofty image of him, even if he does make it to Beijing — and everything just feels dark and cold, and he doesn’t think his lungs are working properly. He leaves the table, says he’s going to the bathroom, but ends up outside instead. WhirlyDome is in the older half of a shopping center in downtown Hershey, and the outside has been renovated since he was last here, now featuring an elaborate fountain surrounded by benches and newly paved pathways to the other stores. He sinks down on the nearest bench, the cool October air grounding him, making it easier to think, easier to try and smash down all these swirling emotions he’s trying not to feel.

Eddie finds him there, sits down next to him on the bench without saying anything. They stay in companionable silence, watching the fountain dance and the people bustle back and forth across the plaza, getting last minute shopping in before the stores close.

“I’m sorry dinner sucked,” Eddie says eventually, quiet and sincere. 

Buck shrugs. “I knew it would. Just got my hopes up too high that things would be different.”

Eddie nods, eyes drifting back to the fountain. Now that they’re alone and the excitement from the games is gone, he can see the slightly weary lines of Eddie’s shoulders, see how he’s still curling in on himself, like he’s trying to escape into his own body.

“How are you?” Buck asks, knocking his knee against Eddie’s gently. “I know this isn’t exactly a quiet night in.”

“I’m alright. Better than I would be, thanks to you.”

“What did I do?”

Eddie’s staring at the ground, but his cheeks are flushing pink, and Buck wants to reach out and feel the heat of them under his fingertips.

“You were there,” he says. “I’m usually alone when I start feeling like that, and nothing makes it better. But I wasn’t alone this time.”

I don’t want you to be alone, Buck thinks, and these thoughts he’s been having — about Eddie, about being with Eddie — are getting louder and louder and harder to ignore. Especially now, when it’s just the two of them, and Eddie’s eyes are sparkling like gems under the street lights. 

It’s almost hilarious that barely six weeks ago, and for 10 very long years, he could hardly stand the sight of him.

Eddie finally looks up from the ground, facing Buck, and they’re so much closer than he thought they were. He can count every eyelash, smell his cologne, watch his eyes trace over Buck’s face, from his eye to his lips and back again.

Buck doesn’t even realize he’s leaning in until his vision starts to blur, and he stops short. He tries to move back slowly, casually, but then firm hands are cupping his jaw, pulling him forward until soft lips meet his own. There’s no fireworks, no angels singing, just warm molasses in his veins, spreading to every part of him until he’s so warm he’s certain he must be glowing. His hands twist into Eddie’s jacket, pulling him as close as possible until he’s practically in his lap. They move to his shirt, feeling the abs he’s been thinking about for weeks now, and he almost melts right to the ground at the sound Eddie sighs into his mouth. 

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but it doesn’t feel like long enough by the time they come up for air. He doesn’t go far, still close enough to feel Eddie’s breath fan across his lips, but he’s not sure what to do now. He wants to know what this means (if it means anything at all), he wants to know what Eddie’s thinking, he wants to memorize the way Eddie tastes and feel his abs for real.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, making them both jump. It’s a text from Maddie, telling him they’re car is here and asking where the hell they went. He looks back at Eddie, still so close, and swallows down the urge to kiss him again and tell his friends to leave them here.

“We should— we have to go,” he says, gesturing toward the parking lot. Eddie’s eyes are flitting over his face again, unreadable but still bright. He nods finally, standing up and offering his hand to Buck. He can’t fight the smile or the blush that he feels, so he doesn’t, taking Eddie’s hand to help him stand. They stay put for a minute, until Eddie squeezes his hand and drops it, smiling that soft smile again as he turns away. 

Buck smiles himself, still full of warmth and lips still tingling, before following Eddie to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back is quiet, everyone tired and settling back into the competition mindset they were able to let go of for a few hours. Buck feels it too, already running step sequences in his head again, but he keeps getting distracted. Eddie’s sitting next to him in the back seat of the Lyft, head tipped back and eyes closed, looking at peace for the first time all day. Buck tries to stop, tries to keep his focus, but his eyes keep drifting back to Eddie’s jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, the stubble shadowing his cheeks. It’s hard to remember what edges he’s supposed to hit tomorrow when he keeps thinking about how that stubble felt under his lips.

They silently make their way back to their room, and Buck knows they need to talk. He’s trying to figure out where the hell to start as he turns on the light in the small entryway, illuminating everything in a light that feels too harsh for whatever is currently simmering between them. Eddie’s right behind him when he turns around, looking just as unsure as Buck feels. It’s comforting, them being on the same page, but Buck hates that he’s responsible for making Eddie feel like this.

He can’t figure out where to start, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tries to figure out what to say. Eddie takes pity on him eventually, reaching for his hand again.

“Let’s talk tomorrow?” he asks. “After free skates.”

It’s an out that Buck is more than willing to take. Not that he doesn’t want to talk, he just...can’t. Not right now. So he nods, squeezing Eddie’s hand in thanks. He goes to pull away, but Eddie’s grip stays firm.

“It wasn’t nothing to me,” he says, tilting his head until Buck meets his eye. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing or what it meant for you, but it was something for me.”

Buck’s doesn’t know what to do with that, either. He wants to kiss Eddie again and he wants to run far away from him and he wants to skate, but he can’t until the morning. So he just nods again, and it seems to be enough. Eddie nods back, finally dropping his hand as he heads into the bathroom and shuts the door. 

Buck doesn’t bother waiting for his turn, just strips out of his dress clothes and crawls into bed. He falls asleep fast, dreams of brown eyes and triple axels — taking off, rising, and falling, falling, falling…

~~~~~~~~~~

He knows he’s falling before his ass hits the ice.

It was inevitably, really — he felt like he was fighting himself through the entire program, trying to keep it from completely unraveling. He knows that to anyone else, any casual fan and even some analysts, he looked good, strong, put together right until the end. But he knows that this isn’t his best. And this fall is definitely going to cost him.

He recovers quickly, finishing the rest of the program as close to perfectly as he can manage. He smiles and bows, waves to his friends in the stands, tries to pretend like he’s okay with knowing that he’s definitely not winning this gold. 

It’s his own fault. He’d let his parents worm their way into his brain again, amplifying the self doubt that was already lingering, making him second guess every move, even the things he knows are good. Pair that with the fact that he can’t stop thinking about Eddie — not just the kiss, but his smile as he took the ice, his effortless jumps — and it was a miracle he only fell once.

He takes silver, four points behind Eddie’s gold. The fact that it was that fall that did him in stings worse than anything.

At the medal ceremony, he catches Eddie’s eye for the first time all day on the podium, and surprises himself with the genuine smile he gives him. It’s certainly not Eddie’s fault, what happened today — he didn’t ask to take up most of Buck’s thoughts, Buck let that happen. And if he keeps letting it happen, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to skate clean again.

He knows they still need to talk, and he knows exactly what he needs to say, but he really doesn’t want to say it. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to say anything right away. Eddie disappears after the presser and doesn’t join him and May in the stands for the free dance. Buck tries to ignore the empty seat next to him, but it’s harder than usual.

They have a late flight back to LA, and Eddie’s already packed but the time Buck makes it back to the room. They stand across from each other in the entryway, just like last night, but the tension in the air feels wary under Buck’s skin instead of hopeful.

“You were amazing today,” Buck blurts out, not at all how he wanted to start this conversation. It’s worth it, though, for the smile and blush he gets from Eddie.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes on the floor. “So were you.”

Jesus, just tell him, Buck thinks, and he squares his shoulders like he’s preparing for a fight.

“It was something for me, too,” he says softly. “Yesterday, it— it definitely wasn’t nothing.”

Eddie looks at him, waiting, and Buck hesitates.

He really, really doesn’t want to say it.

“But?” Eddie prompts, because of course he knows there’s more.

“But,” Buck sighs. “But I can’t— We should wait. Until after the Olympics. I don’t think either of us want to be too distracted before then, and I don’t know if you know this, but you are very...very distracting.” Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes, and Buck lets his gaze rake over Eddie from top to bottom, distracting himself for just a little bit longer.

“You’re right,” Eddie says quietly. “Let’s wait. And I’ll try and be less distracting, so I can keep kicking your ass fair and square.”

“Oh really?” Buck laughs, and Eddie’s laughing too, and it feels good and normal and Buck doesn’t want it to stop. But it has to. Because as much as Buck wants to dive deeper into this...whatever this is with Eddie, he wants to win more. Not much more (which is a thought he never expected to have about anyone), but definitely more. 

And if anyone in the world understands that feeling, it’s Eddie.

There’s a knock on the door, Bobby giving them a 15 minute warning before they’re supposed to head to the airport. Buck moves to head toward his things so he can pack, but Eddie grabs his arm before he can go too far. His eyes look soft and sad and hopeful and a million other things Buck is feeling too, and he just wants to drown in them, in this moment, before he has to go back out into the world, alone.

Eddie leans forward, softly kissing Buck’s cheek, lingering in his space before he heads out of the room, door quietly shutting behind him.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #fs au #ficcery #the self indulgence really popped out on this one because i lOVE whirlyball sm #also they continue to be idiots but that's not totally my fault #they're just Like That