#buck holding eddie’s right shoulder is so important to me actually

[homerforsure]

Can I request #21 "It's alright, I'm here." for the there was only one bed/sharing a bed prompts? ☺️❤️

Only three months late! But I was feeling inspired by @andavs stunning 6 days of Buddie art (this one in particular) and I finally made some writing happen. <3

ETA: Now on AO3 because I did think of a title after all

The Second Hand Unwinds

The body holds on tight to pain. It’s a trite little phrase that Eddie’s snorted at more than once after hearing it from Frank, from well-meaning “I’ve been where you are” guys at group meetings, and from more than one physical therapist. But the fact that it makes for pretty, marketable word art, doesn’t keep it from being true. 

Eddie remembers it whenever an old memory works its way out of the darkness like shrapnel coming to the surface and every time pain flares hot and fresh through scarred-over wounds. His body marks the passing of the seasons, notches carved into his bones as the years pass, and Eddie’s muscles brace themselves hard against the most devastating anniversaries of his life. Usually well before his brain has a chance to notice the date on the calendar. 

Every time it happens–every time–he forgets what it feels like. He wakes up one morning and it takes him longer to get out of bed. He rubs his eyes and feels better after a shower and doesn’t think anything more of it. And then he wakes up tired the next day. And the next. Eddie wakes up in a gloom and he remembers tossing and turning so restlessly that he’s not actually sure he even fell asleep. 

From there it’s a quick slide into running late, losing patience, making largely inconsequential but stupid mistakes at work. He takes one night off from cooking, then two. Christopher doesn’t go without vegetables or protein or crustless sandwiches or any of the other important parts of the preteen food pyramid but he notices the change. Mentions the change to Buck because it doesn’t occur to him to keep secrets like that (not that Eddie would really want him to) and then Eddie finds himself under the compassionate scrutiny of Buck’s gaze with no idea how to explain himself.

So he attempts a simple batch of lemon chicken to prove he’s alright. Then, when Christopher and Buck crack each other up making exaggerated sour faces at each other over the mostly inedible plates that they dutifully try to eat anyway, Eddie doesn’t laugh. He does the dishes himself and he doesn’t turn around when Buck wraps his arms around his waist from behind and rests a chin on his shoulder in a lemon-scented apology.

His body aches. It aches even when work has been easy and he’s angry and he’s fine but also not and he can’t figure out what’s wrong. 

“I’m going to bed,” he says, earlier than usual. “Can you check his homework?”

“Yeah, of course,” Buck answers, getting up from the couch even though Eddie deliberately made his announcement from the far end of the living room. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Just tired.” Eddie waits and accepts the hand on his forehead as Buck checks to see how warm he is, almost looking more worried when he doesn’t find any trace of fever. 

Keeping his hand on Eddie’s cheek, he asks, “You’ve been tired a lot lately.”

“Mmm.” 

“You’d tell me right? If there was something wrong?”

There’s nothing Eddie can do but nod. He wishes there was something, wishes he knew how to explain it to Buck–to himself for fuck’s sake. He wishes he knew why he’s pulling himself away from Buck’s touch when he wants to melt into it until his body makes sense again. 

Buck studies his face, searching for the answers that Eddie can’t give him and then he sighs, gently brushing his hair back before leaning in to kiss him just as gently. “I won’t be up late,” he says. “If you need anything…”

“I will,” Eddie promises. 

Fresh spring heat has finally started warming the city and the bedroom is stifling when Eddie closes the door behind him. He cracks both bedroom windows just wide enough to let a breeze in, almost wincing as the smell of jasmine comes in with it, strong enough to make him want to sneeze like a dog does, with his full body and a shake of his head. He leaves the windows anyway, trading one discomfort for another and slides into bed, staring at the whirring blades of the fan until they morph into the shape of their longer, sharper helicopter cousins and stop Eddie’s heart in his chest. 

He’s not even in the helicopter. He’s somewhere else. It’s dark and the wind is howling, splattering rain pinging off every surface like flying gravel. Eddie can see through it perfectly. None of the rain streaking down his face impacts his view of the scene at all. He sees Shannon, dressed in sunshine yellow, take a step toward him. Toward the flooded street that’s rushing with whitewater and debris. He screams. But all that comes out of his mouth is blood. When he tries to run, to stop her, to dive in, to rescue her, his legs give out beneath him and he collapses. 

A wave crests over the curb and washes Shannon, blood on her clothes and blood on her face, into the river. She vanishes with a choked gasp, reaching for him, and Eddie reaches back, stretching out his hand as far as it will go. There’s blood on his fingers and pooling beneath him and he reaches and reaches, trying to pull himself up, trying to save her, to save both of them, but his body flops uselessly in the rain. 

It hurts. And then it doesn’t. And Eddie knows. 

He’s going to die. 

He’s going to die and he never told Buck- He’s going to die and he hasn’t had enough time with Christopher. He won’t get to explain this to him. He won’t get to see him grow up. He won’t get to see Buck grow old. He’s dying. He’s dying. He’s-

Gasping, Eddie wakes up. It’s still dark; the fan is still spinning. As he struggles to sit up, he can’t get any breath into his lungs. The air is too thick with jasmine, that cloying scent that invades LA every spring, and he puts a hand to his throat like he can claw a fresh opening into his lungs. 

So many of Eddie’s worst memories have come in the spring. With this smell in the air. With this light shimmering through the windows. And his body remembers. 

“Eddie? Eddie, hey. Eddie, are you okay?” Buck asks, his voice cutting through the fog as one of his strong hands presses between Eddie’s shoulder blades and the other hovers over his thigh. He’s gotten to his knees somehow while Eddie’s been doing all he can just to sit upright and his body is warm and close. That scent of Buck that gets more powerful after he’s been sleeping a while pricks at Eddie’s nose and his windpipe relaxes all at once, finally letting in a mouthful of air. 

“That’s it. Just breathe. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you. It was just a dream.” 

Eddie can hear how hard Buck is working to keep the fear out of his voice for him and he falls in love just a little bit more in that moment. Turning into Buck’s chest, Eddie lets himself fall into his arms, shoving his freezing hands up the back of Buck’s t-shirt and trying to burrow his way inside. Buck only wobbles for a second as he takes Eddie’s weight and then he cradles him close, one hand sliding up into Eddie’s hair and the other wrapping tight around his body. 

“It’s okay. It’s alright; I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe. We’re all safe. Christopher is right down the hall. Everybody is okay.” 

Effortlessly, Buck soothes the wounds he knows are most likely to be hurting badly enough to wake Eddie in the middle of the night and the gravel sound of his sleep-rough words almost brings tears to his eyes. 

His body remembers this too. It knows safety and comfort and strength enough for all of his heaviness. Eddie breathes in Buck–herbal body wash and the tang of sweat, the familiarity of his skin–and, gradually, the terror of his nightmare melts into exhaustion.

“What do you need?” Buck murmurs, stroking through the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck. “Some water? Or we could watch tv for a while?”

Buck can feel Eddie shake his head against his collarbone, but the words aren’t as far away as they sometimes are on nights like this so Eddie reaches for them. “No. Just this. Just stay with me.” 

Keep holding me is what he means, but he already feels delicate enough to shred and that additional vulnerability is just a step too far. Buck understands anyway. 

“Want to lay back down?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

It takes a minute–Buck’s knees protest the change as he shifts his weight off of them and the blankets are half tangled and half on the floor from the thrashing both of them have done–but eventually they fold themselves together. On their sides, facing each other, Eddie twines his fingers together with Buck’s and gets a squeeze in return, one that promises that this is something he’ll never wake up and find gone. 

The chill eases from his bones and the screaming eases from his memories and Eddie tiptoes cautiously back to the edge of sleep. He’s wavering there, resisting the fall, and he feels the mattress shift and feels it creak as Buck shifts beside him. 

His fingers brush Eddie’s cheek again, curling around to tilt his head forward, just the smallest bit, and then Buck presses a kiss to the top of his head. He breathes in deep, like he’s reminding himself of something too, and then there’s another kiss to Eddie’s forehead. 

“I love you,” he whispers. “We’re okay.”

And all of Eddie believes. 

#buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fanfic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #sharing a bed #depression #trauma #nightmares #death mention #should I post this to AO3? #I'd have to title it #I hate titling #allison writes

[mypoisonedvine]

okay so playing off of your last drabble, imagine eddie with a mommy kink tho. he'd be such a sub, and he'd love to be teased until he's crying and then to cum over and over because she's like "well you wanted to cum so so bad right??? So cum again, you can do it <3" aaah

"Let's play house again, Eddie," you giggled as you hopped onto his lap, straddling him as he sat up on his bed.

"Okay," he grinned, running his hands up your thighs, over your ass, to finally hold your waist.

"But I wanna do it a little different this time," you admitted, feeling a little shy now that he was looking at you like that. "I think i-it should be mommy's turn to make the rules."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but kept smiling. "Really? You're up for it?"

"Yeah," you smiled wide, "I've been thinking about this a lot, actually. You take such good care of me. I think I should take care of you-- but if I'm gonna do that, you have to listen to me, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he purred, and you pushed him down slowly by his shoulders until he laid down.

"Now just relax, daddy," you cooed, "I know you've been working hard all day... I'm gonna take all that stress away so you can relax."

You started opening his belt for him, biting your lip, and he watched you proudly. He was already mostly hard when you pulled his cock out, and you honestly preferred him not completely erect at this point so you actually had a chance to fit him in your mouth.

Even still... you couldn't even take him all the way to the base yet. Despite the frequency of your practice.

"Fuck," he sighed; he lifted his head up so he could watch closely as you wrapped your lips around him and bobbed your head, feeling him get harder against your tongue.

You sucked a little harder as you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, stroking in time with the moving of your head. Occasionally, you curled your tongue to rub against the underside of his cock, and he groaned lowly.

"Shit," he chuckled breathlessly, "I like mommy's rules so far..."

You tried not to smile, knowing the easy part wasn't going to last much longer.

Once you'd set your pace and kept it for a while, you felt him start to flex in your mouth-- and that was when you pulled off, still stroking his cock excruciatingly slowly, smiling at him mischievously. "F-fuck, what'd you stop for?" he panted.

"Do you want me to keep going?" you asked, playing dumb. "Just ask, Eddie."

"Babe--" he groaned.

"No, not like that," you corrected instantly, and you knew he understood what you meant when his cheeks started to pinken up.

You smiled proudly and returned to your work, picking up the pace slightly. He moaned and leaned back in the bed again, reaching up to stroke your hair as you kept going.

"Oh, uh-- hm..." he cleared his throat, "please don't stop... mommy."

This time, when you felt his cock start flexing on your tongue again, you looked up at him for a moment and decided on a new plan of attack. You took your mouth off of him, but kept stroking his slick cock quickly with your hand in hopes that you could keep him here on the edge for a moment.

"It's really important to remember your manners," you informed him. "You did a really good job with 'please', but don't forget to say 'thank you' when I let you come, okay?"

He nodded quickly. "Y-yes," he agreed.

"Yes...?"

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, "yes, mommy..."

You put your mouth on him again, knowing you were going to see this through until the end this time-- if not even further. It didn't take much for him to start moaning a little loader, holding your head with his hands, bucking his hips up into your throat.

"Ah, fuck," he grunted, "I-- god, that's it, you're so good, honey..."

Humming around him, you moved a little faster, and he gasped in a breath.

"O-oh, please don't stop, don't stop," he begged, "yeah, fuck-- I--"

But he never finished his warning, he was already coating your mouth with his come, thick and sticky and hitting the back of your throat in spurts. His cock pumped everything over your tongue as Eddie sighed and already began catching his breath.

"Thank you... mommy," he panted, and you were glad for his manners but you weren't quite done yet.

Slipping your mouth off of him, you kept your lips closed to make sure everything stayed inside, only to carefully purse your lips and let his spend start to drip down right back onto his cock. He seemed to blissed out to be confused, blankly watching you spit his come back out onto him-- so when you were ready, you flashed him a big smile and started with a wide lick up the underside of his cock to start cleaning it all up again. "Sh-shit!" Eddie whined, covering his face with his hands for a second as he took a deep breath in.

But those hands were gripping the sheets under him like a vice when you flicked your tongue delicately over his slit.

"Fuck, what are you doing to me?" he whimpered, and you loved the way that sounded-- like he was so overwhelmed by what you were doing but desperate for you to keep going.

"Just cleaning up this mess," you winked, licking up all the come off of his cock and mostly ignoring the way it made him hiss in breaths through his teeth and groan deep in his chest.

His poor, sensitive cock was bobbing against your grip, still weeping drips of what you would usually call precum but, in this instance, it was really more like postcum. Wow, your English teacher would love your use of Latin roots here, though he would presumably not appreciate the circumstances.

"You know mommy likes to keep everything very clean," you giggled, swallowing whatever you licked off of him while keeping eye contact as much as you could. It was Eddie who kept changing where he was looking, meeting your gaze for a while only to lay his head back again and put his hand on his forehead or something.

"God," he mumbled, "you're... Jesus."

"God, Jesus, what's next, are you gonna start talking about the Holy Spirit?" you joked, finally finishing your work and sitting up to look down at him with a grin.

"More like holy shit," he chuckled through his exhaustion, "you... I didn't know that you were gonna do that."

"Well, that would've ruined the surprise," you explained.

"I think you could've told me exactly what you were gonna do, and I still would've been surprised," he insisted. "That was..."

He trailed off, and you decided not to let him finish his thought because you knew it wasn't a matter of was-- you still weren't quite done with him yet. He seemed to realize that as well when you lifted your leg over his hips and straddled him. You hummed as you felt his cock-- still hard, amazingly-- press up against you through your panties under your skirt.

"Fuck, babe, what are you--?" he began, sitting up and holding your waist.

"I can't just let you come in my mouth, you know," you sighed. "Not when we're... trying."

Eddie's nostrils flared for a second, fingers digging into your hips, and you smiled. Did he think you'd be able to play pretend and not bring that up?

"I want another baby, Eddie," you sighed, sitting up enough to pull your panties aside and start guiding his cock to your opening.

"Babe, I can't--"

"Shh," you interrupted, "I think you can. I loved watching you come, but I wanna feel it. Just one more, please daddy? Just one more so I can be pregnant again..."

You were a little worried that the internal logic and continuity of this imaginary baby wouldn't quite hold up, until you saw his face, and realized that was the last thing on his mind. "I-- fuck," he sighed, looking at up you. "Okay... yeah, you can... yeah..."

Smiling, you started to sink down onto his cock slowly, watching his face twist in intense, overwhelming pleasure. You knew the feeling all too well.

"Fuck, fuck," he grunted.

"Mm, you feel so good," you hummed happily, reaching the base of him with a long exhale. "So deep... you can come, right? I need you to come inside me--"

"Yeah," he nodded quickly, resting his forehead on your shoulder, "yeah... I can come. It just might take me a while..."

You set your pace, as slow as you could force yourself to go just to try to be nice to him. Even still, he was moaning with each breath and holding onto your waist as tight as he could.

As he started to get a little louder, moving his hips with yours slightly, you smiled proudly.

"I can't wait," you cooed. "I can't wait to have all your cum inside of me-- I want everything, daddy."

You reached behind your back, under where he was inside you now, and delicately toyed with his balls; he groaned loudly, and you let your fingers give them a gentle squeeze.

"I want these empty," you told him. "You need to give me every drop, okay? You're gonna do it, right? You're gonna give me another baby?"

"Y-yes," he promised, nodding against you. "Yes, mommy, I'm gonna... oh, fuck..."

You bounced on him faster, rode him a little more wildly, and he winced.

"Fuck, please," he gasped, and you smiled.

"I know-- you're so close, right? And it hurts a little?"

You felt him nod again.

"We're so close, it's okay," you promised. "I know you're so close-- you can give me all your come, daddy, I know you can."

"Oh god oh god oh god," he whined, rocking up into you-- and you felt hot tears falling onto your thighs.

"Yes, yes, daddy, please come," you encouraged, "get me pregnant, please!"

And apparently it worked because you felt it a moment later: he pressed himself up into you, as deep as possible, and the heat of it started to fill you.

He breathed through his wide-open mouth, eventually letting go of you and collapsing back onto the bed. You laid down on top of him, kissing away the small tear on one of his temples. "You're okay, right?"

"Yeah, I-- fuck, yeah..." he smiled weakly. That was... intense."

"Now you know why I cry when you keep going after I come," you grinned.

"I mean, I wasn't really crying," he defended with a smirk, "it was more like my eyes were watering."

"Uh huh," you rolled your eyes.

"And it was just because I thought my dick was gonna fall off," he laughed, "which I assume is not why you cry when I'm fucking you, so..."

"Still," you insisted, "I was just trying to give you a taste of your own medicine. And hear you beg for mommy."

"Well, I hope you're satisfied," he breathed, "because I am entirely spent. In fact, I think I might already be dead. Jesus Christ."

"If you're dead, you might need to cool off on all the sacrilege, then," you snorted, "or you're never getting into heaven."

He smiled as you held you a little tighter, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Babe," he breathed, "I'm already here."

#love bites verse #eddie munson x reader

[sebastienlelivre]

and some things you just can't speak about | episode 6x18 coda | buck/eddie (mentions of buck/natalia and past eddie/marisol) | 2.3k words (AO3 link in the source)

Eddie comes to a realization, and hope is a living thing that's going to kill Evan Buckley.

It's seven in the morning after a dreadfully boring twenty-four-hour shift, something so quiet no one even wanted to think that word lest they ended up unleashing five alarm fires after five alarm fires. Even Ravi had settled for trying to beat everyone in the station at pool until even that got boring. But it's over now, and they have forty-eight hours off, and Eddie stops in the door just outside the station staring up at the way the sun is gleaming off the surrounding windows.

Buck isn't even sure Eddie is aware that he's right in the doorway, not until Buck bumps shoulders with him to get his attention, and when Eddie looks over at him, he blinks his eyes slowly, and there's a smile, something small and intimate, something that makes Buck's breathing stop and his heart skitter for a moment. "Oh," Buck breathes, which makes Eddie's eyes narrow in confusion, but Buck just shakes his head before saying, "You okay?"

Eddie smiles then, and it's like he lights up, practically glowing, and it's something Buck has gotten used to in the three weeks since Eddie had informed the house about his new girlfriend and how much fun she is. Practically glowing is Eddie's default these days, and Buck isn't prepared to examine why that makes his stomach drop.

"Me? Yeah, I'm good," Eddie replies to his question, his smile never dimming, and Buck bites back some bitchy comment about how getting laid regularly would do that to someone. He swallows and clears his throat with a shake of his head as he tries to get hold of himself. There's no reason for him to act like that, he likes Marisol well enough, she makes Eddie happy, which should make Buck happy, and besides, Buck has a girlfriend too, and Natalia is nice and funny and she challenges him in a way no one else has since Abby, but his stomach is still sour at the thought of someone else making Eddie light up like that.

Eddie is still looking at him, his smile falling into one more fond than anything, his eyes clearly concerned at Buck's sudden silence. Buck smiles, though, shaking his head as they both step out of the way of the door, letting the rest of the A shift actually leave the building. "That's, um, that's good. Things're going good with Marisol, I guess?" This is new ground, this is top of the list of Things They Don't Talk About. Buck has never questioned why, he just knows there're some things he doesn't actually want to know. Eddie and dating is the only thing he can't look at that still leaves him in ruins every time he tries.

"Ah," Eddie says, or rather vocalizes, and when Buck looks at him in confusion, Eddie just laughs. "I, um. We broke up. On Thursday." The 'before shift' is implied, that he hadn't felt it was important enough to mention is also implied, and Buck blinks at him. That...seems sudden. He says that out loud, because Eddie snorts as he crosses his arms over his chest. "She wasn't what I was looking for." Eddie glances at him, then looks away, squinting up at the glinting sunlight, and his smile is small, but there. Buck feels like his heart is in his throat at the sight of it.

"What, um." Buck can feel the confusion crossing his face. "She made you happy, what could you even...." He coughs and shakes his head. That isn't what he had meant to say. "What are you looking for then? She seemed perfect." Buck gestures vaguely. "The way you talked about her, she seemed perfect."

Eddie hums, but he shakes his head. "Oh, she was nice, fun, hilarious when you really got her going, but I...." He trails off as he lets his eyes return to Buck. "Neither one of us was looking for something serious, not with each other."

Buck plasters a smile onto his face that he hopes seems genuine. "Is there someone...." Buck clears his throat before he continues, "You already found someone else?" He bumps his shoulder against Eddie's hoping to ease whatever sting may have been in his words, hoping it seems jovial and like real camaraderie and not like Buck's brain is slowly short-circuiting. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"There is someone." Eddie is sounding the words out like he's choosing each one carefully, and he's watching Buck out of the corner of his eyes. Buck swallows, his throat working soundlessly, knowing that his reaction is entirely not what it should be. He has Natalia. He likes her. He does, he could even fall in love if he let himself. But Eddie's words make his stomach churn and twist.

"Well, that's good!" Eddie chuckles then, shaking his head, and Buck is confused again. "Isn't it? You wanted to get back out there, you did, now you've found someone, a-a forever kind of someone?" Buck tries to force levity into his voice. Eddie blinks at him, and Buck knows he doesn't buy it.

"It could be," Eddie says, canting his head slightly as he looks at him. "They're...well. It's complicated."

"Complicated? Eddie, you broke up with someone for 'complicated'?"

Eddie snorts, shaking his head. "No. We broke up because it wasn't what either one of us really wanted, complicated...." Eddie takes a deep breath. "Complicated has always been there."

Buck blinks at that before exhaling. "I really don't know what that means," and Eddie laughs at him, but in that way that makes Buck's entire body feel warm and bubbly.

"The person I'm interested in is already in my life, they're just...." Eddie smiles a little, and it's almost sad as he looks away from Buck, looking across the parking lot this time. "I don't think they know. How I feel, how I hope they feel." Eddie shrugs. "Complicated," he adds with that soft smile again.

Buck looks at him then, studying him in the early morning light, and there's that feeling like hope, that feeling he had thought he had buried a while ago, right about the time Eddie got shot and Buck found Taylor. He swallows again, opening his mouth to say something, finally settling on, "You really like this person?" Buck knows what that traitorous feeling of hope wants, but he also knows that's impossible. Eddie's...Eddie, and Buck will not sully him or what they have.

Eddie grins again, and he's back to glowing, but now Buck knows it's not because of Marisol, and the sight doesn't hurt as much as it did before. "They're...smart, funny, reckless and stubborn in ways that make me want to strangle them sometimes," and Eddie is laughing a little as he speaks, looking up under his eyelashes at Buck. "And beautiful, so beautiful it makes my heart stop just thinking about...." He pauses before he finishes, "Just thinking about them," with that small smile back on his face. A smile just for Buck, and that feels like a betrayal to even think.

For the moments after Eddie finishes speaking, Buck just breathes, trying to keep his mind from racing in the direction the hope in his chest is rapidly climbing toward. "You're being cagey about pronouns, Eds," Buck says finally.

"I am?"

"You are." Buck doesn't push it, though, he feels like something is strangling him, trying to stop his lungs and his heart at the same time, and he can feel something he wants but cannot have that's so close, but he swallows and forces himself to look down as he scuffs his shoe again the gravel in the parking lot. "So this perfect, beautiful person, why haven't you asked them out?" When Eddie looks at him, Buck shrugs. "I'm assuming you haven't yet." He shoves his hands in his pockets and exhales, taking a chance to look up at Eddie. "Why don't you...why don't you tell them everything?"

Eddie's got that fond smile on his face again, and for some reason, Buck can feel a flush start to spread across his cheeks. Surely it's just from the early summer warmth and nothing else. "Ah, remember complicated?" Buck narrows his eyes, but he nods. "He's seeing someone, and she seems lovely, and who am I to ruin that?" Buck's mouth is dry, and he knows (he knows) there are other options, other people (Josh, maybe, or Terry, o-or anyone), but that hope has moved from his chest to his throat and he's never going to be able to breathe again.

"Eddie," and the name comes out softer than Buck wanted. He needs to stop this immediately, he knows that, but Eddie holds up a hand to stop him from saying anything else.

"He's seeing someone else, and I know he's not ready to be...more with me, not yet." Eddie's smile is still incredibly fond and Buck swallows the lump in his throat because the look in his eyes is very close to love. "So this, right here, right now, I'm not demanding anything, Buck. I just need him to know that I'm here. Whatever he needs, whenever he needs it, I'm here."

Buck's mouth is too dry for him to speak right away, and he takes the moment to try and catch his breath. "I need...you are talking about me, right, because I can't speak f-for Josh or...." Buck trails off with a shrug as Eddie scoffs, but when Eddie looks over at him again, he's got that look in his eyes that makes Buck's blush deepen, and Buck takes a deep breath. "I...he knows. He does."

"Then maybe...maybe eventually."

"Eventually?" The word comes out slightly strangled and rough, and Eddie tilts his head at him.

"Mhm," Eddie hums. "Eventually. I can wait. I've got time." He looks away from Buck, tilting his head up to bask in the sunlight, and Buck stares at him, at his profile, the way it seems like sunlight was built just for him, just for this moment, and when Eddie turns his head to look at Buck, the hope in his throat strangles any sound he could have made. "He's worth it."

"No matter how long? Could, um. Could be awhile." Buck doesn't really know what he's saying, and Eddie just looks at him with amusement, but there's something else, that look that is so close to love, and that flush spreads across his cheeks again. Buck starts worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth, and Eddie reaches up but doesn't say anything as he presses his thumb against his lip, pulling it away from Buck's nervous tic.

"No matter how long," he says, softly. It is so incredibly fond, and loving, and a thousand other things that hope is screaming in the back of his mind about, things he can't trust, can't pay attention to. Buck has Natalia, he likes her, he could even love her. Buck doesn't trust his voice right then, though, but he nods, slightly. He glances off across the parking lot, staring at the cars pulling in for the next shift, knowing they should leave before someone decides they're covering another twenty-four-hour shift.

"I, um. I need to get some sleep," he finally says, looking back at Eddie, and there's a reckless urge right then to ask if he can come over, if he could sleep on Eddie's couch again, but he swallows it back. "I have a date. Dinner and the movies. Maybe if we're out in public things will stop going wrong and weird." Eddie turns to look at him with lifted eyebrows before Buck continues. "Neighbor burned popcorn and set off the sprinklers, and then the next night, Maddie came over in a whirlwind of wedding planning emergencies. Being Man of Honor is stressful," and Buck is almost laughing when he looks up at Eddie who appears to be very tempted to say something right then. "And if you say anything about the universe screaming...." Because Buck's mind is already helpfully doing that, and he can't listen to it, not right then.

Eddie smiles instead, and it actually reaches his eyes. Buck isn't sure if he was expecting Eddie to be hurt by the date, by Natalia in general, but he seems....he still seems happy. "You should come over for dinner tomorrow," Eddie offers. He's still glowing, talking about his break-up and his complicated new maybe-forever love hasn't dimmed that, and hope is stabbing in Buck's gut now, twisting and writhing like this is his one chance, but Buck swallows hard. Eddie takes Buck's silence for hesitation, and he continues, adding, "Natalia is welcome too, Buck," as if the issue is Buck's girlfriend, and not that hope that feels like it's going to strangle him and disembowel him at the same time.

"Eds," Buck breathes, the name coming out in a rush of air, but he shakes his head, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. "I'll have to check, see if she wants to start meeting everyone." Because technically she hasn't said, they have kept a lot of their lives separate, and Buck is just as guilty about it. He doesn't even know how to bring up everything about Christopher, doesn't even know if that might be the thing that makes her run for good. Eddie smiles again, and the hope twists its way back to Buck's throat and he can't really breathe.

"Well. It's a standing offer," Eddie says, and he offers that damned soft smile at Buck, something more personal, one that makes his heart jump, battering against that feeling of hope that is still strangling him. Then, suddenly, that smile flares bright and happy. "I'll even make sure it's not as awkward as the dinner with Taylor."

Buck can't help the sudden bark of laughter before he says, "I knew that was intentional," and hope is no longer strangling him, but it has settled, warm and heavy in his chest.

He doesn't know what to do with it.

Yet.

Maybe eventually.

#911 #buddie #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic #my fic! #like i say in the author's notes #i'm bored with finale and s6 discourse already #so keep that in mind

[wackybuddiemewbs]

WIP Wednesday Buddie Edition

I know, we been knew. But I am a hoe for all the angst and all the drama. the hurt and the comfort. Particularly the Buck!whump and the soft bois being all boi and soft, downright squishy. AND I am also a downright hoe for the "childhood friends to lovers" trope. So yeah, this is pure self-indulgence. Yet again. And as per usual, I make you sit through it! Cheers!

Working title: Thick as Thieves

Basic idea: Buck and Eddie grew up together in El Paso, after Abuela started fostering Buck, a boy who was left behind at a fire station as an infant. Along the way, they became best friends. More than that, actually. Much more. But fate blew them in different directions, until it puts them back together, in L.A., at the LAFD, with the 118. Buck is in for the shock of his life when he finds out that the new recruit is none other than Eddie Diaz. Eddie is equally shocked. And as both have to find out, sometimes even in painful ways, life has moved on at rapid speed since then. Eddie is a single dad. Buck and his adoptive parents apparently no longer talk? And then, of course, there is the elephant in the room, about what happened, short before Buck moved away from El Paso...

Find out more here: Part 1

Eddie’s entire body feels like it’s still vibrating. He is sore and tired, and he will be dead the moment his head hits the pillows, but right now, sleep is the furthest thing from his mind.

They won the game everyone said they’d lose. And him and Buck made the miracle happen, virtually at the last second. They were made part of the line-up early on because their synchrony on the field was out of this world, the coach had told them as much. But tonight, it was like magic. He didn’t even have to look to know where Buck was. He just knew. And for Buck it was the same. He played passes, not batting an eye, because he knew Eddie would reach it.

When you have each other’s back, you only have to look forward, simple as that.

Now walking – staggering – with arms slung across each other’s shoulders, Eddie can say this is one of the best days of the whole damn year already. While he and Buck know it’s stupid, there is still that faint hope that scouts will pick them out from the crowd, offer a scholarship, something like that. So they could go to college together. They are not holding their breaths for it, but they enjoy it while it lasts.

It’s not like we’ll do our best to pick the same college, duh.

Hell would have to freeze over for them to purposely choose different colleges, once they are done with high school. It wasn’t even a thing they had to talk about. Whenever it comes up, they talk about how to cheat the system and share a room at the dorms. And how to cheat their way through Trig because neither one of them gets it, really.

“Y’know, I get it that we’re still the newbies, but that we still gotta help tidy up after kicking ass is kind of a crime,” Buck laments next to him.

Normally, the line-up would have been for seniors and juniors only. Having two sophomores on for such a high-stake game in the season means a lot. Both knew the moment Coach announced that the pressure was on.

But little do they know how well do perform under pressure.

“You’re aware you volunteered – for me also?” Eddie huffs. “Which, by the way, I told you repeatedly to stop doing?”

Buck rolls his shoulders. “I thought they’d go ‘noooo, not you guys, after the victory you brought us’, kinda overestimated us and our magic, I guess.”

Eddie chuckles softly. It’s a nice thought, surely. But Buck vastly overestimated their importance and the juniors’ and seniors’ wish to pay them back for a good game.

“If we win them the cup, I won’t do chores for a week,” Buck adds, wrinkling his nose.

“If Coach says it, you’re gonna jump,” Eddie huffs.

Scratch that, Coach wouldn't even have to ask for Buck to jump to make him jump.

“I wouldn’t,” Buck retorts.

“Says the guy always set on being a people pleaser,” Eddie snorts. While he says it in a teasing way, it continues to bother him more than maybe it should. It’s not like it was when they were still small kids and Buck was so hellbent on being good to Abuela that he hid injuries and such.

Okay, scratch that again, that is still how he is. I practically had to drag him to the nurse’s office at the beginning of the school year.

And in a lot of ways, that is still how Eddie is, how they are. Eddie wished Buck would finally understand what he’s been trying to hammer into his thick skull for all those years. That he doesn’t have to please people, doesn’t have to earn his spot. That the people who really care about him will take him as he is.

“Well, I can’t help it that I’m pleasant to people,” Buck chuckles.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Good, coz you’re not.”

“Then what does it say about you that you still hang out with me?” Buck grins at him.

He shrugs. “I’m a charitable guy?”

“No, you’re an asshole. I’m your oldest friend, and this is what I get? Seriously?” Buck whines mockingly. “I feel so vulnerable right now, Eds.”

“Now you’re being overly dramatic, c’mon,” Eddie huffs, nudging against Buck’s shoulder. He grins, nudging back a little more, which has both of them laughing harder and harder upon every nudge, every shove, every touch.

The movements are sluggish at best. They are both totally beat after the game, so the little fight does not last long.

Still bumping shoulders, they cover the remaining distance to the dumpsters to discard of the trash and finally get away from a place that marks both the worst smelling and the most sought-out for the teens to make out.

Which says more about teenagers than it maybe should. And Eddie will say that, fully aware that he is one of them.

“Mission accomplished,” Eddie announces, demonstratively wiping his hands before skipping past the wired fence.

This might be one of the few nights Buck can get away with staying away past curfew. The Moores are very strict about that – not that Buck cares nearly enough as he maybe even should – but Buck’s dad sure is a football fan. Probably because he considers it manly or whatever.

Maybe that’s why Buck is so eager to perform well in the sport, too, Eddie ponders. Sure, he always wants to impress his adoptive parents. To prove his worth to them. Sadly, that’s no news to him. But maybe that’s the appeal when it comes to Mr. Moore especially. To prove that he’s accomplishing things, that he is growing up to be a man.

Eddie knows a familiar song, though his dad sings to a different tune. For him, it’s more about expecting Eddie to be the man in the house when he is not around. To step up the game and act like an adult, even though Eddie isn’t that. Just because he’s gone half the time. Because of the job. Because he of responsibility.

And Eddie’s taking it, as best as he can. He is. He tries. He really does.

Would be nice if he noticed, but that ship’s sailed long time ago.

Mr. Moore seems to have a similar idea for Buck. Not that Mr. Moore lets on an awful lot. He’s even more tight-lipped than Eddie’s grandpa. And Eddie will admit that he didn’t know what his grandfather’s voice sounded like until he was, like, seven and a half years old. But Mr. Moore has always been a bit of a mystery to Eddie. He and Mrs. Moore love Buck fiercely, that much he can tell. They consider him God’s gift and all. But other than wanting him to perform well in school, be sportive, and behave himself? Eddie isn’t sure what they’d want Buck to be like.

Just… normal. Whatever that is.

Though maybe that’s for better. Eddie has some idea of what his father would want him to be. At least he feels like he catches his father’s drift, whenever he is around to drop some wisdom on him. About how men swallow it up. How men don’t have to talk out their emotions. They just move on and get shit done. That kind of thing.

Eddie shakes his head. Tonight is not the night to dig deep on his father’s antics or what the Moores may have as future plans for Buck. Tonight, they ought to celebrate, stay past curfew, and hopefully get away with it without getting grounded.

He looks around, irritated at the lack of Buck’s presence beside him. He turns his head around to see Buck still standing close by the gate, but not past the fence yet. He stands with his head leaned back, looking up above.

“You know this ain’t the place to make grand memories?” Eddie teases.

But Buck pays him no mind, his eyes still fixed on the night sky.

“Earth to Buck?”

Buck blinks, then snaps his head back around to look at Eddie. He flashes a toothy smile before ducking his head, the way he always does when he becomes too self-conscious.

“What got your attention instead of this lovely ensemble?” Eddie asks softly, nodding at the dumpster.

“Sorry, just… awesome view on Scorpius tonight. Didn’t notice until now,” Buck explains, finally moving past the gate.

Eddie looks up, squinting his eyes to find it. Tonight, the stars shine extra bright, it’d seem. He knows Buck’s had a fable for constellations since he came to stay with Abuela. While he never understood where it came from, they grew to be a source of comfort for Eddie. When Buck started fussing or had nightmares, sitting down with him by the windowsill to watch the stars and recount the constellations would often do the trick.

Whatever Buck sees up there that he doesn’t always find down there, Eddie is not sure. But for as long as it only takes calling out his name to get him back, it should be fine.

“Okay, someone still needs to tell me where to find these. Because you showed me a map of the constellations and they look nothing like the real deal,” Eddie huffs.

He blinks, when he feels Buck’s fingers brush against his as he lifts his hand up towards the sky, his arm resting snuck against Eddie’s. Buck adjusts both their stance a bit, and for a moment, Eddie forgets how breathing works.

Which is weird. Because he’s no stranger to standing close to Buck. They lived together as small kids. Bathed together. Slept in one bed. And got so many mosquito bites while sleeping in one tiny tent and leaving the zipper open a bit.

So what’s different tonight than from any other night?

They have taken the trash here before, also at night. Just last week. Sure, Buck didn’t stare at Scorpius that time. But last time, they had started wrestling, and it didn’t take his breath away. Except for when Buck sat down on top of him, the little shit.

“See the spot over there? That’s Antares, rival of Mars. Coz it’s also red. Always a good starting point, coz that’s the tip of the tail. And over there we got Lesath, which both mean sting. Which, you know, very creative right there. And then we move up that curve until we get to the body. Easy once you know where to start, right?”

Buck isn’t looking at him, is busy gearing his movements to help Eddie find the start and end. Though Eddie suddenly finds neither. Or maybe he does. He is no longer sure. Because he isn’t looking at the rival of Mars or the beginning or the end of a constellation in the sky. He is looking at Buck. His Buck. Whom he has looked at and after for many years now. And nothing is different about him. Still the same bright smile and the even brighter eyes.

He looks at him, and all else just disappears for a moment. The stars. The dumpsters. The cheering crowd that can be heard all the way to here. The time running fast towards the end of curfew. It flits away into the dark, carried away by a small gust that makes him shiver.

There is just Buck. Buck’s fingers gently pressing against his. The way he smiles. The way his eyes twinkle when he talks. The way Eddie knows Buck like the back of his hand. The way Buck knows him inside-out. Even the things Eddie doesn’t say, Buck just somehow knows. The things Eddie doesn’t even dare to touch, Buck brushes against, begins where he often wants the conversation to end, to keep things as they are. So no one leaves, ever again.

“Eds?”

Eddie blinks, then lifts his gaze to meet Buck’s. He can see the confusion there, but also the calm presence that Buck seems to have reserved only for him. For those rarer moments when Eddie loses his cool. And as always, he just waits. Waits for Eddie to catch on, come back to him.

He can feel Buck’s grip loosening on him. And that is when something inside Eddie just snaps and moves, moves him. Before Buck can let go of him, Eddie twists them around and presses his lips against Buck’s to the point it may make their teeth ache. Because he doesn’t want to let go. He wants to hold on. He has to, even though Eddie doesn’t know why or how or why now.

It makes no sense at all. And yet, it feels like nothing made sense before this kiss, however clumsy and awkward it is. How it ever made sense not to kiss those lips, to hold on to this body, this person, as if it wasn’t his beginning or Buck’s the same way.

For that one perfect moment, maybe two, three, four, the universe leaves them in peace as they steal those precious seconds where it is only them. A time that is just theirs. That belongs to no one but them. Something no one can take away from them, no matter what the future may hold, or what lies in the past.

When Eddie pulls away, breathing hard, it takes him a few seconds to catch up, catch up, catch up again. For every moment stolen, three come smacking against him.

He just kissed his best friend. Without a warning. For either Buck or himself.

He kissed Buck. On the lips. And he meant it. Meant every moment of it.

His eyes search Buck’s for the answers his mind won’t provide. Dread settles in right at that moment, making him shudder. Because how did he manage to skip every step from “I might like boys” to “I want to kiss my best friend on the mouth, hard”?

Have I just ended everything for us? Is it over now? Is that…?

Eddie opens his mouth, an apology or whatever it is at the tip of his tongue, but it gets pushed back and away when Buck steps closer, wraps his arms around his back and kisses him back all the harder.

He knows they should talk about it. Right now. They should stop kissing and talking. But Eddie doesn’t find the strength for it. He melts into the warmth and comfort Buck radiates. The warmth and comfort he also knows like the back of his hand. And he holds on to it, ushering away all cold he may feel.

And so, under the stars so brightly shining, they steal as many moments as they can, exchanging between puffs of air and pecks and tender touches small reassurances carrying the same message:

You are not alone.

You are with me.

Stay with me, so I can stay with you.

Hold on to me, so I can never let go again.

Let’s begin again, together.

#buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #wip wednesday #buddie fanfic #fanfic #buddie au

[sortofanobsession]

A Bit Emotionally FUBAR - Ch. 3 (AlphaBetaOmega Buddie)

Author’s Note: As promised chapter 3. I do have a 4th chapter started, but it needs some work. Unbeta'd (that always gives me giggles on abo fics)

Tag Requests and Prompts are open

Tag list: diazbuckleysworld, chitownwolf

Warning: Language, violence, the truck bombing from end of season 2, fear, anxiety, injury, blood, broken bones, hospitals

Word count: 2k+

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Breathless Highs and Bloody Lows 

Eddie hugged his pup close and scented him. It had been the longest he’d been away from Christopher in years. 

“Dad,” Christopher giggled.

“I missed you,” the omega said. 

“Missed you too,” Christopher said. 

“I love you so much,” Eddie added.

“I know,” Christopher smiled. “Love you too, Dad.” Eddie still hadn’t let go. 

“Eddie,” Buck chuckled as he put Christopher’s backpack on the table. “Can you at least let the kid take his jacket off?”

“No,” Eddie said before overdramatically squeezing Christopher in a hug, earning a laugh from his son. “Okay, fine.” He grumbled as he let his pup go. 

“You have fun with Denny?” Buck asked, accepting the jacket when Christopher took it off. 

“Yeah, we built a fort with the table, and his moms let us keep it up the whole time,” Christopher told them. Eddie smiled. He owed Hen and Karen big for this. He listened as his pup told him every important detail about the last few days. He and Denny had apparently talked about seeing some new animated movie that Eddie had no idea what the name was the following weekend. Eddie wondered if Hen knew about that, but maybe he’d offer to take the boys soon. Maybe they should start spending more time with the team. Team dinners were nice, but Christopher had loved his day with the team. He had a blast with Denny. Was he the one holding Christopher back? Was his insistence on keeping Christopher so close keeping him from being happy? Eddie was drawn out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the concern in Buck’s baby blues.

“Hey, you okay?” Buck asked. 

Eddie nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, just...starting to remember what it is like not being numb.”

“That a good thing or a bad thing?” Buck questioned. 

Eddie shrugged. “Still sorting that out,” the omega admitted. 

“Let me know if I can help,” the alpha stated. 

“You already are,” Eddie grinned. “Honestly, I have no idea if I could do this without you.”

Buck chuckled. “You survived the military, and you managed to be a single dad for this long. You save lives on the regular. As crappy as you feel now, you’ve survived worse on your own.”

“But never as the real me, not really,” Eddie admitted. “I’m serious. It’s like being a teen again. Feelings and all that.”

“You were still you,” Buck said, pulling the omega to him. “You have always been you, just, I don’t know, somewhat muted. But I won’t lie, I like unmuted you. I want to know all of you.”

“So this is that charming Buck that got all ladies and gents before I showed up?” Eddie said, hugging the alpha back and keeping him there. 

Buck snorted a laugh. “Oh no, that was Buck 1.0.” The alpha shook his head. “Nah, I like to think I’ve grown up since then. But I’m not opposed to having some fun.” A smirk played at the alpha’s lips. “Although, Bobby said not in the truck.” 

Eddie choked on air for a moment before recovering. “There’s the smart ass, Buck I’m used to.” 

“You had plenty of good things to say about my ass the last few days,” Buck replied, his tone low so Christopher wouldn’t hear him. 

Eddie shook his head and laughed. “You are something else,” the omega grinned. 

“Damn right,” Buck nodded. “One of a kind, and you like it.”

“Your ass? You know it, but the rest of you, meh.”

“Now that’s a flat-out lie. You like my eyes more,” Buck stated. 

“I like all of you,” Eddie admitted. “Even when your smart mouth ends up being a big pain in my ass.”

Buck actually laughed and bit his lip as he looked into the living room to make sure Christopher was preoccupied. The alpha pulled Eddie close. “I will gladly do much more than just be a pain to that ass.” He playfully nipped at the omega’s bottom lip before kissing him. “But that might have to wait for a bit.” 

Eddie felt warm to the core. Despite having just ended an exhausting heat, he forced himself to reign it in. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Alpha.” Eddie kissed him back.

“Only making promises, ‘mega,” Buck grinned, kissing the omega more gently this time. “Just making it clear you’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh, I will hold you to that,” Eddie said, kissing him back. The omega froze when they both heard a giggle. 

“Does this mean Buck can come to parents' day at school?” Christopher asked. Eddie’s eyes widened a bit. 

Buck smiled and gave Eddie a quick peck on the lips before turning to Christopher. “Buddy, you know I’ll go anywhere with you guys. All you have to do with ask. You’re my most favorite kid in the world.” The alpha scooped the pup into his arms and hugged him tight. “Nothing could stop me from joining you.”

“Really?” Christopher’s eyes lit up as he asked.

“You will always have me,” Buck promised, squeezing the pup to emphasize the point. “No matter what happens, you’ve got me.” 

Eddie had to blink a few times to control the tears in his eyes. The sight of Buck, the sweetest and most caring alpha he’d ever met, standing there holding Christopher and promising to always be there was almost too much. It was like an amazing dream. The warm and happy feeling in the omega’s chest made him rethink wanting to go back on his meds. He hadn’t felt love like that in years. Sure, the doubt and lack of control sucked, and stopping them abruptly had been an awful feeling, but he felt so happy his heart might explode. Easing off a bit, that is what Buck had said he should do. Baby steps. Yeah, that’s what he’d do because he didn’t want to lose this feeling. 

Eddie was starting to regret the lowered doses. He loved how much more he was feeling when he was with Buck and Christopher. But now he had his doubts. His heart was in his throat as he watched Buck suffer and not be able to do anything. His Buck, his alpha, was face down on the pavement, surrounded by flames and pinned by a 20-ton truck, and there was nothing he could do. The omega’s hands shook as the bomber approached the injured alpha. Eddie felt fear and anger course through him as the kid lashed out at Buck. The uneasy knot in his stomach refused to ease. Eddie wasn’t sure he could handle losing another alpha, especially not like this. Shannon leaving had been terrible, but losing Buck. No. He wasn’t sure he’d survive this. He jumped when he felt a hand on his arm. Hen squeezed his arm. He gripped her hand like a lifeline for a second. But the moment was short-lived as they all turned to see Bobby approaching the bomber. Eddie felt his anxiety tick up again. Bobby was more than just their captain. He was like a father to Buck. And the feeling always seemed mutual. The team was a family. He’d realized when he’d first joined that Buck was a linchpin to how the team functions. Eddie wouldn’t be the only one devastated if this didn’t end well. The omega’s heart hurt for his captain. Eddie was sure of one thing. If anything happened to either alpha, things would never be the same. Buck would never be the same if he thought Bobby was hurt for him, but Bobby wasn’t going to sit back and let anyone hurt Buck because of him. Bobby had lost too much already. Eddie’s heart was in his throat again as Bobby lunged for the bomber. As soon as the all-clear was called, Eddie ran. He ran to the only thing that mattered right now, his alpha. His hands reached for Buck the moment he dropped down beside him. 

“I’m here,” Eddie told the bleeding alpha. Buck’s hand felt weak in his when the alpha took it.

“Eddie…” Buck started, but Eddie stopped him. 

“I’ve got you, Buck, okay?” the omega repeated what the alpha always told him. “I’ve got you.”

Buck nodded weakly. Hen and Eddie started working on saving Buck.

The omega’s leg bounced as he sat in the surgical waiting room while the surgeons tried to save not only his alpha’s leg but his life. He loved that stubborn, pain-in-the-ass alpha. He refused to imagine having to live a life without Buck. What would he tell Christopher? Christopher loved his Buck. He could feel his lungs tighten again as he thought about it. His head snapped up when a hand reached over and gripped his. It was Maddie. 

“He’s a fighter, Eddie,” Maddie grinned.

“I know, I just...I never, I haven’t-” the omega started to say. 

“He loves you too,” Maddie said with a smile. “He just didn’t want to freak you out by telling you. I told him he was an idiot, but he always said you’d been through a lot, and if he had to wait a bit longer, he would. He just wanted to be there with you guys.” 

Eddie felt a new wave of tears in his eyes. “I can’t lose him too.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Maddie said, pulling him into a hug. “No matter what happens, he loves you. You and Christopher are his world.”

Eddie practically jumped out of the chair as a doctor approached them.

“How is he?” Maddie asked.

“The surgery went well. Evan is stable. We were able to save his leg; we placed a rod-”

Eddie was unable to focus on the rest of what the doctor was saying. The sense of relief that his alpha was alive was overwhelming. He tried to reign in his emotions but had been failing since he heard the bomb go off. It was like being back at war. He sat down as he tried to shake that feeling again. He felt arms wrap around him. He knew from the scent it was Maddie again.

“He’s going to be okay,” Maddie smiled. “Might be a tough few months, but he’ll pull through.”

“We’ll make sure of it.”

Eddie bit back a sob as he took in the sight of his alpha, wrapped in bandages, leg in a cast, and out cold. The omega just wanted to crawl in bed beside his alpha and cry, but he forced himself to keep it together. His feet remained as if glued to the spot until Maddie took his hand and pulled him to sit with her beside her brother. “He’d want you here,” the beta smiled as she put Eddie’s hand on her brother’s. 

Eddie froze in his tracks when he heard Buck talking to Carla. His heart pounding in his chest at the way Buck spoke about his leg. He tried to school his features and took a deep breath, and went into the room. He handed Carla a cup of coffee, and he set his own off to the side. 

“Eddie?” Buck asked, staring at him.

Carla looked between the two. “I’m going to let everyone know you’re up,” the female omega excused herself. Buck looked like he was just about to say something but didn’t get the chance. Eddie rushed over and kissed the alpha. 

“Eddie,” Buck said when they broke apart. 

“You scared the hell out of me,” Eddie stated. 

“I didn’t mean to, I-”

Eddie kissed him again before leaning his forehead against his alpha. “You didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t you dare apologize. You’re still here, so just...keep doing that. Okay? I cannot lose you. I won’t lose another alpha. I don’t think my heart can take it. I love you too much.”

“You love me?” Buck asked.

“Yes, you might end up being the literal death of me, but yes, I love you,” Eddie nodded. 

“I love you too,” Buck smiled sadly.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, taking in the sad state and a slight shift in the alpha’s scent. Buck seemed to hesitate. “Hey, Buck,” Eddie held his hand tight. “No more hiding, remember? We do this as a team. No matter what.”

Buck glared at his cast. “Even if you get stuck with an alpha that can’t even work?”

“Doctors said you’d be back up and back to your reckless self in no time,” Eddie stated.

“I doubt they said that.”

“I’m paraphrasing slightly,” Eddie admitted, earning a snort from the alpha. “The metal rod will do its job, and you’ll be back to trying to give me a heart attack by jumping headfirst into whatever rescue mission we get called to. You just have to let yourself heal first.”

“That is going to take forever,” Buck grumbled. 

“Well, you won’t have to do it alone, got it?” Eddie assured him. Buck nodded but didn’t respond. The omega had a feeling that this was far from the last time they’d be having this discussion. It was going to be a long road to recovery, but he wasn’t about to back down now. Not when he finally had someone he genuinely loved.

#buddie fic #omega eddie diaz #alpha evan buckley #alpha buck buckley #alpha evan buck buckley #a bit emotionally fubar fic #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: injury #tw: bombing #tw: hospitals #tw: fear #tw: anxiety #tw: medication #tw: broken bones #911 fic #alpha beta omega dynamics #alpha omega pairing

[cosycrescent]

💌 intertwined valentines

for @shelookedatthestars 💌

thanks to @missmybuddie for organizing this valentine’s exchange!

#happy valentine’s day 🌙💖🌸✨💗 #911valentines2022 #cole draws #buck holding eddie’s right shoulder is so important to me actually #buddie #911onfox #911 on fox #buddie fanart #tuserksn #tuserarah #tuserems #tuserzee #tuserhidden #userdahlias #userdorksinlove #usernelly #userisha #usernymika #usersiren #userandie #userceecee #useralie #useroliii #userkitkaat #lesbiandiaz #fruitydiaz #janielook #ajlook #911 #cosycrescent art

[justaswampdemon]

Etched in Skin Like Stone

This is maybe one of my favorite fics I've ever finished...blame my love of tattoos and my need for these idiots to figure their shit out.

Written for the fantastic @djdangerlove who had the galaxy brain idea of Buck getting "you're gonna be ok, kid." tattooed. It has lived in my brain rent free ever since.(This took so long to finish...my bad lol)

Also shout out to @marjansmarwani for telling me to stop staring at it, appreciate you babes!

Read it on AO3.

It starts with Christopher, as all good things should. Buck’s at the Diaz house with Christopher one night while Eddie’s out with Ana. As whatever movie played Chris had started to doze a little, snuggling into Buck. He’d draped an arm over his middle and pulled him close with a kiss to the top of his head. Nothing settled Buck like being at their house, feeling like he was finally a part of something so special. There was a nagging voice in his head though, telling him this wasn’t forever. Eddie had Ana now, and nights where the three of them would curl up on the couch with pizza and movies were most likely going to dwindle.

The doubt working through him was interrupted as Chris traced over the two black bands on his arms. “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah buddy?” Buck tilted his head, watching small hands lift his arm to look at the ink closer.

“Why do people get tattoos?”

“Well,” Buck thought about it for a second, trying to figure out the best way to explain it to a 10 year old. “Sometimes for fun, they like the design and just feel like it. Sometimes to remind them of something important.”

Poking the two bands, Christopher looked up at him. “Are these important?”

“They are, I had two good friends who passed away.”  Buck thinks of Andy and Chris, two of the best friends he’d had while he was traveling across the states.  They’d been hit by a drunk driver, looking back and knowing what he knows now, there was nothing anyone could have done to save them.  “I got these so they’d always be with me.”

“So…you get them for people who aren’t here anymore?”

“Not always, the squiggly one right here-” Buck points to his shoulder where the tattoo is hidden under his shirt, “I got for Maddie. That’s how she writes ‘and’ so I got it when I hadn’t seen her for a while. I knew we’d see each other again so I got it to remind me our story wasn’t over.”

“Cause you knew she’d come back?”

Buck didn’t actually, when he was 24 and still felt abandoned by Maddie. He’d gotten it anyway, wanting to hold on to the hope that he’d see her again. The hope had been rewarded and he smiles, thinking of his sister and soon to be born niece. “Exactly. I knew she’d come back, but I missed her.  So until she did...I would see it and know that no matter what I had her.”

They lapse into quiet and Buck keeps half his attention on Chris, can tell he’s working through something in his head.  The conversation they had when Christopher ran away comes to mind, and he remembers how distraught he’d been, standing at Buck’s door with teary eyes. Buck still hasn’t figured out how to untangle all the emotions in his chest that Christopher chose him to run to.

“Hey Buck?”  Christopher asks again, looking up to catch Buck’s eyes.  “Do you miss me when I’m not around?”

“Sure I do, but any time I get sad or I miss you I always remember what you told me on the pier and it..it makes me brave.”   It’s rare they really talk about that day, except little bits when Chris has a nightmare or when someone else brings it up.  It’s even rarer that they talk about the carnival before the wave hit.  Everything, even the good memories of rides and games is colored by the terror of the water rushing over them.  The only thing that stands out, untainted by dirt and debris and blood, is Christopher looking at him and-

“You’re gonna be ok, kid.”  He finishes Buck’s thought and Buck instantly gives him a squeeze. Suddenly Chris sits up and grabs a piece of paper and marker from where he’d been drawing earlier.   Buck watches as he puts all his concentration into whatever he’s writing.  Finally he turns and hands Buck the paper with a big grin.  “Here!  Now you can take it with you.”

“Thank you Christopher.”  Holding the words in his hands makes Buck’s chest go tight again.  It also puts an idea in his head.  “Well you gotta help me figure out where to get it.”

Behind his glasses, Christopher’s eyes go wide and his smile gets even bigger.  “Let's see…” He gets on the couch and looks at Buck thoughtfully, pressing back into the same spot against Buck’s left side before inspecting both his arms with a shake of his head.  Then he wraps his arms around Buck and squeezes for a moment against his ribs.  “Here.”  He says definitively.  “This way when I hug you I can charge it up.”

Buck immediately wraps Christopher up in a bear hug.  “Perfect,” he presses a kiss to the top of his head. They stay curled up as the movie finishes, both dozing a little as the credits roll.  “Alright kiddo, how do we feel about pjs, teeth brushing, and bed?  Pretty sure your dad will kick my butt if you’re still up when he gets home.”

“Only ‘cause it’s a school night.”  Chris reasons, and Buck laughs.  

They go through Christopher’s nightly routine, and once he’s settled in bed, Buck sits on the edge next to him.  “Is tonight a story night?”  Christopher’s eyes are already drooping but he nods all the same.  “You got it, have I told you about when I worked on a ranch in Alaska?”

“I wanna go to Alaska, I wanna see a moose.”

With a smile, Buck tells him all about moose, and the baby bears he saw, and how it seems like the wilderness goes on forever.  He sprinkles in random facts he knows until Chris’ eyes have closed.  Kissing his forehead, Buck whispers a quiet “goodnight buddy.”

“G’night Buck.  Love you.”  

“Love you too kiddo.”  Buck closes his door most of the way, heading back into the living room to clean up.  He spots the piece of paper on the coffee table and gently folds it, tucking it in his back pocket.  

By the time Eddie gets home, Buck’s got the house cleaned up and is half watching tv half scrolling through instagram.  He’d already messaged his friend Mel, setting up an appointment for his next day off and getting a very pointed ‘oh we need to Talk don’t we?’

“Hey Buck.”  Eddie drops his keys in the bowl and immediately flops on the couch next to him, “you guys have a good night?”

Buck says nothing of the tattoo conversation, though he doesn’t know why.  Maybe it’s that nagging voice in his head, telling him this is all just temporary, Eddie won’t need him much longer.  When he’s missing them both he’ll have a physical reminder that there’s a kid out there who loved him, and who would want him to keep going.

~

The tattoo stings, each pass of the gun feeling more like it’s just scraping off his outer shell.  It makes sense, peel back all the outer things that make Buck ‘Buck’ and all that’s left is Eddie and Christopher and a need so desperate it overwhelms any pain.  

“So, you gonna tell me the whole story about why this was so urgent?”  His artist, Mel, asks after she’s finished the first pass over the letters.  Carefully she inspects her work, small hand stretching and moving the skin over his ribs to check everything. 

Buck presses his lips together, half in discomfort and half because if he opens his mouth he knows it’ll all rush out.  Mel shoots him a sympathetic look, and he sighs, “Chris is Eddie’s son.”

That gets an eyebrow raise, “Eddie as in the man you’ve been pining over for two damn years?”

“I haven’t been pining that whole time…” because it’s useless to lie to Mel, not to mention a little terrifying.  She’s a barely five foot tall queer pistol wrapped in floral dresses and tattoos and it’s not even a question that she could kick his ass.  Since first meeting her when he came to LA, he’s gotten one tattoo and they’ve had a monthly platonic date night ever since, she’s been a confidant and voice of reason.  

Mel also has an impeccable bullshit meter, which means she sees right through him. “Ok so you’ve been pining for one year and what?  One year, eleven months and two weeks?”  She arches a brow as Buck sputters.

“He’s dating someone…I was watching Chris when we came up with the idea so they could go to dinner.”

“Ohhhh…” She sets the tattoo gun back down to level him with an extremely unimpressed look.  “Buck…you big, beautiful, dumb motherfucker.”

“You have a terrible bedside manner.” Buck laughs.

“We’re taking a break…I need a cigarette for this conversation.”  Wiping down the blood that’s welled up as they talked, Mel puts a piece of Saran Wrap over the ink and he follows her outside.  “Alright spill it Buck.”

“Remember when Eddie got stuck down the well?”  It’s a relief to finally spill everything, especially to someone who was so disconnected from it all.  Mel nods as she lights her cigarette, “he changed his will.  If he…” After the sniper Buck still hasn’t been able to get the whole sentence out.  “If he ever didn’t make it home…I become Christopher’s guardian.”

“As in…”

“As in my best friend…who I’ve been pining over for two years, got shot in front of me and is currently dating a very nice lady, told me he made me his son’s guardian a year ago.”  

Mel coughs out her smoke, when she finally catches her breath she looks at him in disbelief.  “You didn’t know?”

Throwing his hands up, Buck can’t help the vindication he feels as Mel’s eyebrows climb further up her head.  “No.  Fucking.  Clue.”

“And he told you…”

“In the hospital as we were waiting for his discharge papers.”

“Wow.”  She takes a drag, processes, and then another “wow…Was he dating this nice lady when the well happened?”

“No…but he is now…and he was when he got shot.”  The words come tumbling out, “and ever since?  Things have been weird between us.  I keep trying to just go back to how things were before he got shot, but it just feels strained.  Maybe I’m supposed to back off…He did kind of put it in legal writing that the only way I’d be Christopher’s dad is if Eddie…”

Stubbing out her cigarette, Mel turns to him sharply, “that’s what you got from that?”

“Uh…”  He’s not sure what else could be read from waiting to tell him.  

“Buck…he just told you that no matter who he’s dating, you’re the person he trusts with his heart.  He was a little fucked up about it,” she adds, “but that’s an expectation that you’re gonna be around for the long haul.”  

“I’m sure he’ll change it when he finds someone, I’m just the best option for now.”  Because Buck was always the consolation prize, from the moment he was planned as nothing more than a donor.  

The pain must show on his face, or maybe in his voice, because Mel wraps her arms around his waist.  Careful of her fresh work, she squeezes him tight.  “Hey, you are one of my favorite people ever.  And I don’t think I’m the only one.  Everything you’ve told me about that man says that he loves you, maybe he just needs some time and a good kick in the ass to figure it out.”  They head back inside, and as Mel gets ready for another pass over the words, she gives him the kind of look that means she’s grinning under her mask. “Maybe you should bring him in for a tattoo?”

“Mel I love you, but please don’t terrorize my best friend.”   

“Really gotta spoil my fun, dontcha?”  She gets back to work and Buck has to focus more on keeping his breath steady.  The burn of the second pass is sharp, he’s pretty sure he can feel each carefully written letter get etched into his skin.  

They finish not long after, and as he looks at the words in the mirror his throat burns.  The tattoo will probably be healed by the time he sees Christopher next, between school and Ana, most of the time Buck has to be content with facetimes and texts.  As Mel smoothes the saniderm over, he texts Eddie about a zoo trip soon, which gets a response that it’d be nice to have a day with Ana, so Buck can take Chris on one of their weekends off.  He shows it to her with a bitter “see what I mean?”

She sighs and maneuvers Buck’s arm so she can tuck herself against his not sensitive side, “yeah…I’m sorry babes.”  They walk out together, and Mel stays by his side as he pays.  Before he leaves, she hugs him again, “love you, text me if you need to talk.”

As he steps out into the sunlight, the ache in his ribs has nothing to do with the tattoo.  He misses Eddie like crazy, but maybe he’ll just have to accept his new role of babysitter and work friend.  It’s fine, that’s what Buck keeps telling himself.  Sitting in his car, Buck presses his hand against the hot skin on his ribs.  Deep breath in, “it’s gonna be ok, kid.”  Deep breath out as he turns the ignition and pretends he wants to go home.

~

“Woah! Buck, is that new ink?” Chimney asks, walking over to where Buck is working through a rep of pullups.

“Uh…Yeah.” Dropping down, Buck rubs the back of his neck. It’s not that he was hiding it…but he hadn’t shown it off like he normally did. “I got it a month or so ago.”

Eddie sets his weights down, too distracted by this new information. With how often he saw Buck, at work and countless times before or after shifts and on days off, the fact that he’d hidden the new tattoo was odd. Buck barely went a day without sharing everything from the tv show he was binging or the wikipedia hole he’d stumbled down. The man was the most closed off open book Eddie had ever met.

Joining the other two Eddie gets a glimpse of the new tattoo, inked against the curve of Buck’s ribs. “Is that Christopher’s handwriting?”

Chimney goes suspiciously quiet as Buck flushes, trying not to meet Eddie’s eyes as he nods.  “He uh...he wrote it out for me.”

Moving into Buck’s space, Eddie tugs at his shirt to get a closer look.  You’re gonna be ok, kid.  Without thinking, he reaches out and touches the ink, feeling the raised skin and the bumps of Buck’s ribs.  The muscle under his fingers twitches and absently he thinks maybe he should pull his hand away, but his son’s handwriting has been permanently etched into Buck’s skin, and the gravity of it throws him more than it probably should.  

He wants to ask about it, he wants to know everything about where the words came from, why it’s on his ribs, why Buck never mentioned it, but instead his mouth just opens and shuts a few times.  There’s a thundering in his chest, but it feels exciting, nothing like the odd hum under his skin he’s been noticing lately.  He’s not even sure how to begin to process this, and Buck’s looking at him nervously, and all he can do is gape at how completely Buck loves his son…loves the family they’ve built. The past few months he’s been trying to force a ready made family when he had everything he’d wanted curled up on the couch with his son back home.

A cough from next to them reminds him Chimney is still standing right there, watching Eddie’s mild crisis as his fingers continue to brush over the words. He swallows, and he knows his voice comes out a bit too strained when he finally finds it. “Looks good…”

The bell sounds and Eddie snatches his hand back like Buck’s skin is the fire they’re being called to. Buck turns to follow Chimney, shooting Eddie a confused, worried look that Eddie hates more than his own apparent obliviousness.

The last few hours of their shift is non stop, and Eddie barely has a spare moment to even reach out to Buck. It doesn’t help that Buck does what he can to distance himself, sticking close to Bobby in a way that has their Captain shooting both of them concerned looks. Buck’s absence has Eddie cold and untethered, and it brings the realization from before that much more glaring. In between calls he does his best to start setting things right, texting the various pieces of the puzzle until he’s in the locker room and there’s a pit in his stomach as he realizes Buck didn’t even pause to change. Every atom in his being wants to run after him, but there are steps between here and being able to pull Buck into his arms and offer to never let go.

All in all it’s a few hours until he’s taking a deep breath and knocking on Buck’s door. It’s an agonizing minute or two before Buck opens the door, staring at Eddie in confusion. “Hey, what are you—”

“You got Christopher’s handwriting tattooed on you…” Eddie interrupts, stepping into Buck’s loft and moving to sit at the counter.

Buck ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he shuts the door and joins him.  “Yeah...I guess that is kinda weird...it’s just-”

“It’s not weird at all.”  Eddie interrupts, and Buck’s eyes shoot to his.  “I was surprised…but more because I didn’t know and it is kind of the least surprising thing in the world.”

Buck nods, looking a little shell shocked. There’s a certain kind of bitterness when Eddie thinks about all the times Buck was convinced he’d never be wanted that runs alongside the same bitterness that so many people had convinced Eddie he could never have this. “Um…Ok…” Buck busies himself making coffee, and as the pot starts to brew he glances over. “Everything ok?”

“I broke up with Ana.”

There’s a stall in Buck’s nervous energy and he turns his worried brow on Eddie.  “Because of my tattoo?”  Of course he thinks it’s his fault, as if a few curves of ink were responsible for anything besides getting Eddie to wake the hell up.

“All this time, I’ve been ignoring what I wanted, what was right in front of me, because I thought being a family meant something specific.  Since the moment Shanon left, I’ve had so many people telling me he needs his mom, and then after she died, he needs a mom.”  He takes in the expression on Buck’s face, the strange mix of devastation and what Buck thinks is understanding about what Eddie’s trying to say.  “I was so focused on what everyone else was telling me, you know?  ‘Find someone Christopher loves,’ turned into ‘that boy deserves a mom, you should find a nice girl to settle down with’.  All the bullshit I told myself I’d stop listening to.

“And I realized...he has someone he loves.  Someone who loves him as much as I do, who makes him feel safe and cared for and protected.”  Taking a breath, he reaches out and finally lets himself feel the buzz of want when he rests his hand on Buck’s.  “Someone who will fight for him as hard as I will.”

“Eddie…”  Buck’s voice is barely about a whisper, but Eddie thinks he’d hear it as loud as the bell going off at the station.

Devastation morphs into cautious hope, and Eddie prays he’s reading things right as he squeezes Buck’s hand.  “Buck you’re not just Christopher’s guardian should the worst happen. You’re his dad now, and I couldn’t ask for a better co parent and partner.” 

The hand under his turns over, letting Eddie twine their fingers together.  “I…Are you…”  Buck stumbles over his words, seemingly unable to get a full thought out, but his eyes are full of a longing that Eddie hadn’t let himself see before.

Leaning close, Eddie pauses a second, giving Buck a chance to move away just in case.  He doesn’t, and Eddie brushes their lips together in a tentative kiss.  The buzz under his skin turns into a comforting warmth when Buck kisses back, gentle and equally soft.  They pull apart for breath, but he doesn’t let Buck go far, pressing their foreheads together.  “I love you, I think I’ve loved you for a long time.  Sorry it took so long to get it through my head.”

Buck laughs, a happy puff of air against his lips, “I love you too Eddie, always have.”  He cups Eddie’s cheek with his other hand and kisses him, a firm but brief press of lips that has Eddie’s heart soaring.  When they separate again, Buck has the happiest smile Eddie’s seen, possibly ever.  “Told you the universe was screaming at you.”  Buck teases, gently rubbing his thumb over his cheekbone.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie leans into his hand.  “The universe does not scream Buck.”  Pushing to his feet, Eddie kisses him to stop whatever ranting explanation he’s sure is coming.  He wants to hear it, loves listening to Buck’s excited ramblings…and yeah maybe he should have realized he was ass over tea kettle for the man in front of him a little earlier.  Buck grins, draping his arms over Eddie’s shoulders.  It feels like muscle memory to fit his hands around Buck’s ribs and Eddie hasn’t felt so at ease touching someone since Shannon.  Underneath Buck’s sweatshirt is their son’s handwriting and he presses his hand against it a little firmer.  “You’re gonna be ok kid?”

“Chris said it to me on the pier.  We were on a bench talking about what he wants to be when he grows up…right before…”  Buck tenses and trails off, but Eddie knows how the sentence ends.  Before the wave hit, before the sea almost ripped the two most important people away from him while he’d been none the wiser.  “One of the nights I watched him while you were out, he asked why people get tattoos.  I told him sometimes for fun, and sometimes for people you miss.  He asked me if I missed him.”  I miss you all the time, Eddie remembers Christopher saying, way back when it was just the two of them and Eddie’s desperate need to run as far from Texas as he could.  “I said of course I do, but then I remember him telling me it’s gonna be ok and it makes me brave.  So he wrote it out and helped me decide where to put it.”

“On your ribs?”  

“Uh…that way when he hugs me he can charge it up, according to him.”

The pink of Buck’s cheeks is beautiful and Eddie tugs him close, taking a moment to revel in how perfectly they fit together.  “You’re a really good dad, did you know that?”

Buck cradles his face in his hands, and Eddie quickly becomes addicted to the feel of work rough skin against his.  This time their kiss is syrup slow and sweet, but the words spoken against his lips are what gets Eddie to melt.  “I learned from you, Eds.”  Some of his doubt must show, because Buck kisses his forehead and pulls back just enough to meet his eyes.  “Hey, I’ve seen some shitty dads…hell I have a shitty dad.  Christopher is the luckiest kid in the world to have you.”

Pulling him back into a hug, Eddie wraps the words around his heart as he tucks his face against Buck’s neck.  “He’s got both of us now.”

~~~~

Later that night, after they send Carla and her knowing grin on her way with multiple thank you’s, and after multiple bedtime stories to get Chris to settle because he was “too excited for dumb things like bedtime”, Buck snaps a photo to send Mel.

He’s been meaning to show her how the tattoo healed, but now the picture has two purposes.  Just below the ink is Eddie’s hand, thumb brushing over the words as he dozes against Buck’s shoulder.  With the photo he adds the caption ‘healed up great!’ before he puts his phone on the nightstand.  He’ll wake up to no small amount of yelling in his texts, his phone has already buzzed twice, but right now he pulls Eddie that much closer and for once has no trouble falling asleep.

#swamp demon writes #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911 fox

[datleggy]

Ok I have one more thought on like the med school au thing which is buck and Eddie love in the same building/next to eachother (if they’re renting houses on the campus the med school in my area does this so it may not be universal) and buck gets annoyed with Chris crying cause as much as he loves kids he’s trying to study and that’s not easy with a kid crying loudly so he goes over to Eddies to complain but when Eddie opens the door and buck sees how dead on his feet he is he instead offers to help while Eddie takes a break and this completely catches Eddie off guard for two main reasons one this is his like rival at school and two every other neighbor has just complained so this is a change of pace

oh. oh no. this is--I'm screaming, this is perfect.

here's a short drabble bc that scene will never leave my dumb lil skull otherwise and its all ur fault anon 

It's been about a half hour and even with headphones in Buck can still hear the insistent wailing outside his door and it is driving him up a wall.

He's read the same sentence in his textbook now eight times in a row and still not a single word has been committed to memory. He knows for sure that golden boy Diaz lives in that apartment and he has no clue what would make the guy think that agreeing to babysit for whoever the hell he was babysitting for in the middle of finals week was a good idea.

Maybe he's not so smart after all, Buck thinks, sighing and finally giving into his impulse to go see what all the crying is about. He shrugs on a sweatshirt and a pair of light joggers before making his way across the hallway and knocking on the door, folding his arms over his chest and huffing in annoyance the longer it takes for anyone to come answer.

He's not expecting the normally put together and admittedly handsome boy wonder to open the door looking quite so...human, for once. 

Diaz is wearing a stained t-shirt and a pair of old basketball shorts, his hair looks like it hasn't ever seen the good end of a brush, there are bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and in his arms is the very fussy and very loud source of the apartment complexes complaints.

"Look," Eddie says, exhausted as can be, while he tries to rock the kid back and forth, "You're the millionth person to come knocking at my door. And I get it. He's loud. He's a baby and he's sick. So I'm sorry but--"

"You look like crap." Buck blurts out.

Eddie blinks, frowning. "Thanks?"

"You're welcome." Buck presses his lips into a thin line and nods over Eddies shoulder. "So, you gonna let me in, or?"

Eddie blinks at him again, this time looking at him as if the blonde has grown another head right in front of his very eyes. "What?"

"I need to study, can't do that with a crying baby next door," Buck sighs, "So for the love of god let me help you so that we can both pass exams this week, Diaz."

It's probably only because he's sleep deprived, or maybe because he's so overwhelmed by the first and only offer to actually help that he’s received since...well, forever, now, that makes Eddie step aside without further argument and let Buckley inside. 

“Have you ever even dealt with a sick child before?” Eddie half shouts over Christopher’s sobbing. 

Buck makes impatient grabby hands until Eddie finally relinquishes the baby to him. And suddenly it’s as if Eddie is seeing a whole new side to the med student. Buck is gentle and soothing, holding Christopher upright and whispering calm sweet nothings, instead of rocking about, he simply paces the room and after a few minutes the baby goes quiet, his eyes drooping shut, his little hands curled into loose fists on Bucks chest. 

“How...” Eddie gapes. 

“Magic touch.” Buck smirks, but the smile softens when he looks down at Christopher’s sleeping face. “It’s better if he sleeps upright like this, he sounds congested.” 

Eddie nods, still in complete awe. “He is. I--thanks, seriously.” he’s not sure what else to say, but he’s beyond grateful. This isn’t the first time Christopher’s gotten a cold, but it is the first time someone’s gotten him to go to sleep so quickly during one. 

Buck hums. “You can thank me by quizzing me on Chapters ten through fifteen for tomorrows advanced organic chemistry test.” 

Eddie huffs, amused. “You could’ve literally asked for anything just now,” he tells him as he reaches into his backpack for the right text book, “Hell, I could just about kiss you.” 

“In your dreams, maybe.” Buck makes a face. “Now c’mon, quit stalling Diaz.” 

“Alright Buckley,” Eddie smiles, speaking in a soft tone so as not to wake Christopher, when he asks, “Orbital hybridization has two important consequences, what are they?” 

#this was too cute not to jot down SOMETHING #911 fox #premed college AU #buddie #christopher diaz #buck buckley #eddie diaz #single dad eddie #sick christopher #drabble #long post is long #long post

[capseycartwright]

your love takes me there, this I swear

buck loves just about everything about eddie - but he especially loves his hands. 

or, musings on how buck fell in love with eddie because of his hands. inspired by this gifset of eddies hands and my utter lack of self-control!

ao3 link

Buck loves just about everything about Eddie. Really - the list of things he loves about Eddie is long, and possibly embarrassing, and ranges from the perfectly mundane like Eddie’s smile, to the downright cringey, like how much he likes the tiny, adorable snuffling noises Eddie makes when he’s sleeping on his side. 

Buck loves everything about Eddie -

But he especially loves his hands.

Buck’s not entirely sure when he first noticed Eddie’s hands, but he thinks it was probably fairly early on in their friendship. It sort of came with the territory, noticing hands - hands that worked to save someone's life on a medical call, hands that fought fires. Buck probably noticed fairly early on, because he had to watch Eddie work, and how could he not notice that Eddie had quick, clever hands - hands that had clearly seen plenty of medical emergencies before and knew how to work quickly and effectively? He admired it - even underneath all his initial assholerely, Buck admired it. Eddie was a clever guy, and good at his job, and he’d been a threat, in the beginning, and then he’d quickly become Buck’s best friend in the entire world.

Eddie’s hands were focused, and clever, at work - they had been from day one. Buck, to this day, liked to sit back and admire Eddie’s hands when he could. Eddie’s hands were clever, and they were strong. Every day of his life, when Buck put his uniform on and started work, he put his life in Eddie’s hands, and Eddie had never given him a reason to question the unwavering faith Buck had felt from the moment they’d worked to save that man’s life in the ambulance. Eddie’s hands were the hands that Buck trusted to double-check his harness, when he was going to do a rope rescue - it was a job Buck had never really even trusted Bobby to do, always doing a third check when someone else had checked him over, just to be sure - but Buck trusted Eddie to do it. The routine was familiar, now - Buck would harness up, and Eddie would double-check every clip, every knot, tugging and tightening with a practiced ease and familiarity. 

Eddie’s hands were the ones who would operate the winch, when Buck was doing a rope rescue. Buck always felt safe, knowing Eddie’s hands were the ones that were holding onto his rope, that Eddie’s hands were the ones his life was in. Eddie’s hands were the safest place Buck had ever known. Eddie’s hands were the ones he felt on his shoulder, during a fire, reassuring him that Buck wasn’t alone. Eddie’s hands worked alongside his, to wrangle hoses and pull victims out of fires. They were hands Buck knew as well as his own - hands that felt like an extension of his own, while they worked. 

He noticed the way Eddie’s hands worked, first - and then he noticed how Eddie handled Christopher. Buck was probably biased, yes, but he firmly believed Eddie was the best father in the entire world. Eddie - he never babied Christopher, never made his son feel less than, he was never cold with Chris, never denied his son anything. The first time Buck met Christopher, he’d driven Eddie to Christopher’s school, and he’d watched as the hands that had saved lives in the aftermath of the earthquake had lifted his son into a relieved hug with a gentleness Buck hadn’t seen from the older man, until then. 

Eddie’s hands were always gentle, and loving, with Christopher. Over the years, Buck had watched as Eddie’s hands had ruffled Christopher’s hair, hands that had helped Christopher with his crutches, hands that had supported and loved the little boy in all the ways Buck had never experienced in his life. He thinks - in hindsight - watching Eddie with Christopher only ever helped Buck fall completely in love with Eddie. Eddie was soft, and kind, and gentle, and patient with his son - even when Christopher was throwing the kind of epic tantrum Buck wasn’t sure he’d know how to handle, Eddie would simply give his son a firm look, and with gentle hands, direct him to the couch and explain that they needed to talk about their feelings - not shout about them.

How could Buck not fall in love with the hands that tucked Christopher into bed every night, hands that put Christopher’s glasses aside when Christopher fell asleep while they were reading - hands that easily lifted Chris from the couch and into bed, after movie night, hands that were raising the best kid Buck knew. Eddie didn’t give himself enough credit, if you asked Buck - because he was the greatest example of fatherhood Buck had ever seen, and he got to see it every single day. Buck felt like he learned from it - learned how to be a role model, putting Eddie’s parenting into practice as Jee-Yun got older and Buck’s role in her life felt infinitely more important than ever.

Buck noticed the way Eddie’s hands worked, first - and the way they loved Christopher, second. 

The way Eddie’s hands loved him was the greatest revelation of Buck’s life. Looking back - Eddie’s hands had been telling Eddie’s secrets for years, long before Eddie himself had ever confessed his feelings for Buck. Buck remembered the first time they hugged - really hugged, and not the slap on the back,  bro-style hugs that had dominated the first few months of their friendship. 

No, their first real hug had been after the bombing - Buck didn’t like to think about those few months, all that much, and he liked to think about the time he spent in the hospital even less, but there was a moment that he liked to think about. Buck had been alone - which was rare, given the shifts the 118 and his family took to keep him company as he recovered - and Eddie had come, late, after a shift, and he’d found Buck crying. Buck had been too tired and emotionally wrung out to be embarrassed, and Eddie had simply wiped away his tears with those magnificent, healing hands, and he’d hugged Buck close, as though he could squeeze him hard enough and put all the broken pieces of Evan Buckley back together and from that moment Buck was sure the only place he could truly be happy was when he was being held in Eddie’s hands. 

Eddie’s hands had told the story of his feelings long before Eddie had said the words out loud - hands that offered Buck coffee, on his bad mornings. Hands that took Buck’s keys from him, on the days he was too tired to drive, hands that bundled Buck into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. Hands that lingered and hands that held Buck close and hands that loved and said so much long before either of them had found the words for what had started burning between them so many years previously.

Buck remembered the moment it had all been set alight - and you’d have to forgive the ironic metaphor, for a firefighter, but he wasn’t sure there was any other way to describe how it felt to finally love Eddie loudly and freely - it was as though his body had been set alight with it all and Buck had been so fucking happy to burn because it was Eddie, and maybe that wasn’t all that eloquent but Buck would walk through fire every day of his life if it meant he got to have five minutes at the end of every day with Eddie - he was just lucky that he got Eddie for so much more than 5 minutes, he got to have Eddie all the time.

Eddie had kissed him first. Buck would always remember the moment - the way their argument seemed to stop, right in the middle, because suddenly, you could cut the tension between them with a knife and something shifted and changed and Eddie was cupping Buck’s face in those beautiful hands of his and he was kissing Buck like he was worth something and pleading with Buck to understand that regardless of anyone else - Eddie couldn’t live without him. 

Buck loved being loved by Eddie’s hands. Over the years, it felt like Eddie’s hands had mapped every single inch of Buck’s body - Eddie’s magical, magnificent hands knew exactly where to touch, where to tickle, where to hold. God - Buck would never get over how it felt to be held by Eddie. Eddie had big hands - and the multitude of entirely not PG fun that brought about aside - Eddie’s hands were big enough to make Buck feel held. Eddie’s hands felt like they spanned the entire expanse of Buck’s ribcage, familiar and grounding when it felt like Buck’s lungs were being crushed with the weight of the anxiety that felt like it was never going to let him be, even after years of therapy and talking and recovery. Even then, Eddie’s hands were steadying, keeping Buck above water.

Buck loved to hold Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s hands - just like the rest of Eddie - were warm, warm and calming and familiar and Buck took every opportunity he could to link his fingers with Eddie’s - across the centre console of the car, in the grocery store, sitting on the couch watching TV after Christopher had gone to bed. 

Buck could write a novel, about the way Eddie’s hands felt - calloused, and a little rough, the result of a life spent working manual jobs that required those helpful, healing hands of Eddie’s. They were still soft, though - soft, and warm, and familiar, and the greatest comfort Buck had ever known, whether that comfort was in a ridiculous haunted house Chimney had forced them to go to (it was, in Buck’s defence, actually terrifying, and he’d been justified in holding onto Eddie’s hand with a death grip), or whether that comfort was the steadying presence of Eddie by his side as his doctor had quietly admitted Buck’s yearly scan of his leg had shown a strange abnormality. Hands that had held Buck close as he panicked, and cried, hands that had shared in Buck’s joy as everything had turned out to be just fine. 

Hands that had shaken, as he’d proposed to Buck. They’d talked about marriage, in that vague, far off, maybe one day sense - and if Buck was being honest, he wouldn’t have minded if they had never gotten married. What they had, the love he and Eddie shared, was too big to be described only by marriage and a ring - but Buck couldn’t deny the thrill that had gone down his spine as Eddie had gotten down on one knee and produced a ring with shaking hands and asked Buck to make it official.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Buck hummed happily, leaning back against Eddie as his husband slotted himself behind Buck on the couch on their hotel balcony, bracketing Buck’s hips with his knees. “Just thinking,” he said, marking his place in his book, twisting a little so he could look at Eddie. The four days of glorious, uninterrupted sunshine had done wonders for Eddie, a healthy glow to his skin that could only be the result of a slow, lazy, ‘we’re not doing a single adventurous or touristy thing’ kind of honeymoon. 

“About good things?” Eddie asked, those glorious hands of his threading through Buck’s hair, familiar as they tugged at his salt-water matted curls. 

“About you,” Buck admitted, twisting his fingers with Eddie’s, taking a second to admire the bright platinum wedding band that sat there - a wedding band Buck had put there only a few short days ago. It was simple, plain and thin to anyone who might give it a passing glance - and engraved on the inside, decorated with words that would only ever go a fraction of the way of explaining the love that Buck felt for Eddie - love that consumed him in the best and brightest and most welcome ways. 

“I’m right here,” Eddie reminded, as though Buck could forget that he was on a blissful, week-long honeymoon with his husband in a very fancy, very quiet, five-star hotel. It had taken them a long time to get to where they were - and so they had decided they were going to savour every single second of their first week of marriage. 

“I know,” Buck reassured, pressing a kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand. “I was just reminding myself of how much I love you.” 

Eddie’s smile was the most glorious thing Buck had ever seen - forget art, and music, and ancient cities full of history. No, Eddie Diaz’s smile was one of the greatest wonders of Buck’s world. “I love you too,” Eddie reassured, his other hand coming to rest on Buck’s chest, right where his heart was, and a part of Buck wanted to scream it in time with the thrum of his own heartbeat, to try and make Eddie understand what Buck still felt like he didn’t have the words for - it’s yours, it’s yours, it belongs to you.

Buck loved Eddie’s hands - hands that healed, and helped, hands that had given Buck hope, hands that loved. 

Hands he was going to get to hold onto forever. 

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #its just 2k about eddies hands don't @ me i know i have a problem

[thisissirius]

8+18 for the prompt set

Amnesia + Reunion

that someone could be (important) [ao3] eddie/buck, amnesia

The house is empty.

Sending Chris to Hen's for the weekend was a snap decision, but Eddie feels like he's falling apart hour by hour. There's stuff to clean in the kitchen, laundry that needs doing, and things scattered around the living room that need picking up.

"I'll tidy up when we get back," Buck says, grinning and shoving at Eddie's shoulder. He brushes a kiss against Eddie's temple and then darts for the driver side of the truck.

"Idiot," Eddie says fondly, tossing Buck the keys. "I'm gonna chane your nickname to when we get back."

Buck snorts, sticking out his tongue as Eddie climbs in the truck. "Not Sexy anymore?"

Eddie laughs, slamming the door. "I've never called you that in my life."

"Pity," Buck says with a ridiculous grin.

Eddie's hands clench into fists and he moves through the house, the silence pounding around him. Chris' door is open and Eddie swallows as he looks inside. It's a little messy, clothes in the hamper, bedsheets rumpled, and a book half open on the bookcase. It's one he's reading with Buck and when Eddie tries to pick it up, Chris wordlessly shakes his head.

"Fuck," Eddie says, closing Chris' door and pressing his head against it.

It's worse when he moves into the bedroom; it looks better than it ever has. Where Eddie's kept it mostly barren and cold, Buck's filled it with plants, pictures, and knick knacks from his own apartment.

"Isn't that better?"

"I just sleep in here."

"Just sleep?"

Eddie chokes on his next breath and climbs onto the bed, mindful of his arm, srunching up the sheets beneath his right hand, and sucking in a lungful of air. The sheets and pillows no longer smell like Buck, and Eddie wants to throw up. Everything's fading. Buck's fading.

"We're actually gonna be early," Buck says, eyes on the road. They're coming up a crossing and he eyes the lights.

Eddie pulls out his phone, taps a message out to Bobby to let them know they might be there before Chim and Maddie.

Seems fake is the message he gets back.

He opens his mouth to tell Buck that Bobby needs to stop spending so much time around May and Harry when Buck curses under his breath and the truck skids and there's—

There's a knock at the door.

Eddie doesn't want to answer it, doesn't want to get off the bed. He turns his head into the pillows, closing his eyes and swallowing thickly.

The knocks continue.

It could be about Buck, a voice in the back of his head says.

Forcing himself up off the bed, Eddie cradles his arm and moves into the hall, the knocks continuing. Eddie's phone is on the kitchen counter but he ignores it, heading for the door and unlocking it.

Maddie is on the doorstep, giving him a tentative smile, but Eddie doesn't answer it. "Is Chris home?"

"No," Eddie says, leaving her in the doorway and heading back into the living room. He grabs his phone on the way, slipping it into his pocket.

"Eddie," Maddie starts, following him. "I know you don't want to see me—"

"I don't want to see anyone," Eddie says. He sits on the edge of the couch and rubs his thigh.

Maddie nods, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. Eddie wonders whether she's left Chim in charge of Jee, and who's watching Buck. He shrugs it off; it's not his problem. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Eddie snaps. "You made it more than clear I should stay away."

"That's not," Maddie starts. Her face falls and she wrings her hands. "It was upsetting him and I just wanted—"

"Upsetting him?" Eddie pushes to his feet. "I'm really fucking sorry that my boyfriend forgetting me upset him!"

Maddie's eyes widen and she ducks her head, swipes a hand over her face. "I know I did the wrong thing, and I'm sorry."

The anger that Eddie's been struggling to keep at bay wants to burst out, so he clenches his hand into a fist, looks at the clock on the wall. He hopes Maddie leaves soon. He doesn't want to see anyone and she knows that, so why—

"I just wanted what was best for him," Maddie says quietly. "I didn't know what to do."

Closing his eyes, Eddie bites at the inside of his cheek.

Eddie appreciates Hen's hand on his elbow as they walk towards Buck's hospital room. "You're sure he's okay?"

"He woke up," Hen said, squeezing his arm. "That's the best news we could have."

Through the glass, Eddie can see Buck smiling gently at Maddie. She's got her fingers curled around his wrist and Eddie's heart picks up a few beats. He's been desperate to see him, to know that Buck's really okay. He doesn't remember the crash, doesn't remember the rescue, barely remembers the first time he woke up.

Bobby says his first word was Buck, and that's all Eddie needs to remember.

"Buck," he says, as Hen pushes open the door.

Maddie sucks in a breath and Eddie frowns, but Buck's looking up, grinning. "Hen!"

"Hi, Buck," Hen says, looking relieved. "I'm really glad to see you're awake."

"It's good to be awake," Buck says, and his eyes dart to Eddie. When he frowns, something stutters in Eddie's chest. "Shit man, are you okay?"

Eddie nods, blows out a breath. "Of course you ask about me."

Maddie says, "Eddie," but Buck's raising an eyebrow.

"Do I know you?"

Eddie presses a fist to his eye and chokes back a sob.

"Very funny," Eddie says, but dread settles cold in his stomach. The way Buck's looking at him, no recognition. Fuck. Fuck. Maddie looks distressed, but Eddie doesn't care. How could she possibly know? Buck doesn't say anything and Eddie chokes out, "you don't know me?"

"Should I?"

Fear forces the, "I hope you'd remember your boyfriend," out before he can stop it.

Buck's face closes down quickly, staring at Maddie in surprise. "Is this true?"

"Buck," Maddie starts.

"Please take me back to my room," Eddie says.

"I don't remember," Buck says, panicked, and Eddie hates how high his voice is, how scared he is. "I don't remember."

"I shouldn't have stopped you seeing him," Maddie says. "Everyone's told me so many times, but he wouldn't talk to anyone. I was afraid he was going to hurt himself."

Later, Eddie supposes he'll forgive her. For now, he doesn't care. "Please go away."

"Eddie—"

"Maddie," he says, desperation clawing at his tone. "I've lost my boyfriend. Please don't expect me to forgive you right now."

Maddie looks sad, guilty, and Eddie doesn't blame her, not really. She's protecting her little brother, something he's always admired in her. Buck's here because of her and he knows, later, when things aren't so raw, he'll know she did the right thing.

Later.

Eddie doesn't watch her leave. He pulls on his phone.

"Wait," Maddie says, and Eddie frowns, because he made it clear—

There's the sound of someone banging open the door and Eddie pushes to his feet, wanting to know what the hell is going on, when someone skids into the living room.

"Eddie."

Buck. "Buck," he whispers, afraid to hope.

The sheer devastation on Buck's face is heartbreaking and he sobs out, "I'm so sorry, Eddie, I'm sorry."

"Buck," he says again, stumbling forward, and Buck meets him halfway. He's mindful of Eddie's broken arm, cradles the back of his head. Eddie breaks; he's crying, turning his face into Buck's neck and sobs.

"Ssh," Buck whispers, nose to Eddie's temple. "I've got you, Eds. I'm here."

Eddie's fingers curl into Buck's shirt. "I thought," he gasps out, struggles to breathe.

"Easy. Breathe," Buck says, tightening his grip. "I know. I'm here. I remember."

"Fuck," Eddie says. When he calms down, he pulls back, lifting his hand to Buck's face. "You're here."

Buck's hand comes up to his, holds it tightly. "I am."

When Eddie looks, Maddie's gone and he feels the flash of guilt, but it fades quickly. "I didn't know—"

Eddie can't finish, and Buck understands. He nods, leans in to kiss Eddie and oh, it's the best kiss they've ever had. He presses forward, eyes slipping closed.

"I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you too," Buck says. "I might not have remembered, but I still felt it. The hole where you should be."

It's a ridiculous sentiment, one that Eddie understands completely. "Chris is gonna be ecstatic." Buck looks distressed, but Eddie shakes his head at whatever he tries to say. "You did nothing wrong."

Buck shrugs. "Maybe. Still feels like it."

"He won't know Chris," Eddie says. "Carla, how do I tell Chris that Buck doesn't remember him?"

"Carefully," Carla says, taking his hand. "We'll do it together. But you know that boy will do everything he can to fight."

Eddie wants to yell; how can anyone fight amnesia? He holds his tongue, thinks of Chris. He doesn't know what he's going to do.

"Hey," Buck says gently, fingers on Eddie's chin. "I'm here, okay? It's going to be okay."

"Yeah," Eddie says. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. Either way, he's got Buck back and he remembers. "We should call Hen."

"We will," Buck says. He leans in for another kiss. "I just need a minute, alright?"

Eddie nods, understands completely. He's not sure he can let go of Buck right now, even if Buck wants him to. "I love you."

A small intake of breath, but the smile on Buck's face is blinding. "I love you, too. So much." Eddie smiles into the next kiss, relishes the slide of Buck's hand to the back of his neck, squeezing gently. Buck pulls back, eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder. "Did you not even clean?"

"Fuck off," Eddie says without heat. "You weren't here."

"Just a maid," Buck says, pretending to be angry.

"No." Eddie rubs his thumb over Buck's cheek, eyes wet with tears he can't hold back. "Not just a maid."

Buck's smile, the recognition in his eyes, is worth more to Eddie than he can put into words.

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fic #911 au #whoops #so yeah

[clusterbuck]

i could spend my life in this sweet surrender

(1.3k, rated G, complete) read it on ao3

Eddie splashes water over his face, as best he can with one hand. He lifts his gaze to the mirror, slowly, like maybe if he sneaks up on it he’ll take his reflection by surprise. Maybe it won’t tell him what he already knows.

He meets his own gaze, and there’s no hiding from it.

Eddie is exhausted. He knows this, of course; he feels it in the way every movement is like dragging his limbs through mud, in the way his bones are heavy like they’re beholden to something stronger than gravity.

But it’s one thing to know it, and another to see it reflected back at him. Dark circles spread like bruises under dull eyes, and his skin is pale, standing in stark contrast to the stubble that’s starting to grow in.

Eddie likes to think he’s been doing a pretty good job of hiding it so far, but this last sleepless night must have tipped him over the edge somehow. There’s no way he’s going to be able to walk out of this bathroom and convince Buck he’s fine.

Which, of course, doesn’t mean he’s not going to try.

He makes it three steps before Buck rounds the corner in front of him and stops in his tracks. Whatever good morning greeting he was about to utter is cut off. “Eddie, are you okay?”

“Just tired,” Eddie tries, and attempts something in the neighbourhood of a reassuring smile, but he thinks he’s mostly just gritting his teeth.

“Just—Eddie, I’ve seen you tired. This is more than just tired.” Buck takes a step forward, moves his hand like he’s about to reach out for Eddie, and then seems to think better of it. Eddie is both disappointed and relieved.

Disappointed, because at any given point in time, there is basically nothing he wants more than he wants Buck to touch him.

Relieved, because he’s barely holding himself together, and if Buck touches him right now he might come apart. He is too tired to keep a lid on his feelings, and if he starts talking, he doesn’t know what’s going to come out. And there are some things that shouldn’t come out, because Buck has done so much for him and Christopher these past few weeks. He doesn’t need to deal with the fact that Eddie is inconveniently, irredeemably in love with him on top of everything else.

“Really tired,” Eddie amends, hoping that admitting it will get Buck to leave it alone.

But it’s Buck, so of course he doesn’t leave it alone. “Nightmares?” he asks, with the sympathy of someone who knows exactly what he’s talking about.

And it would be an easy out—he could agree, and it would be completely believable, and they could move on from this conversation. Because it’s barely been two weeks since he got shot in bright daylight in the middle of LA. Of course he has nightmares.

But it wouldn’t be the truth. He has nightmares, too, but—they’re not what’s keeping him up at night. He’s used to nightmares, to waking up panicking and talking himself down, to sleeping around them enough to remain a somewhat-functional human being. Nightmares he can deal with.

What he can’t deal with is the ache in his shoulder every time he tries to close his eyes. At this point, he can’t even tell if his shoulder actually hurts or if it’s all in his head. All he knows is that no matter how much he tosses and turns, he can’t seem to land on a single position that doesn’t send waves of pain down his arm.

Which has been making it hard to sleep.

“Amongst other things,” he ends up saying. Which… it’s not not true.

“Like what?” Buck asks, narrowing his eyes. Eddie knows this look. It’s his I swear to god, Eddie, if you’re lying to me right now look.

Buck’s gotten a lot of use out of it the past few weeks.

“Just—” Eddie starts, and sighs. He doesn’t know how to explain it without sounding small, and weak, and a number of other things he spends most of his time trying not to be.

“Eddie,” Buck says. Gentle, encouraging, not a hint of reproach.

“There isn’t—I can’t find a position that doesn’t hurt,” Eddie mutters, and looks at the floor.

“Oh,” Buck says, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. And Eddie hates that, hates the way he knows Buck is feeling inadequate right now, as if Buck isn’t the only reason anything about his life works right now.

“It’s fine,” Eddie says. “I usually pass out eventually, once I get tired enough.”

“It’s—Eddie, that’s not fine,” Buck says. Eddie thinks his tone could most closely be described as mildly horrified. “Sleep is important for healing, I know you know this.”

Eddie shrugs a little, like, what can you do? and then winces at the movement. Something like alarm flashes across Buck’s face.

“Okay,” Buck says a moment later. “Let’s get Christopher set up for school, and then—I have an idea.”

“Should I be worried?” Eddie asks, his default reaction to Buck’s ideas, but Buck just grins.

Half an hour later, Buck leads Eddie into his room and Eddie tries to fight off the instinctive dread that’s started filling him at the sight of his bed.

“Okay, so, I was thinking,” Buck starts, and Eddie thinks there’s a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Your shoulder doesn’t bother you as much when you’re sitting up, right?”

“Right,” Eddie agrees. “But I can’t sleep sitting up, I’d just fall over and end up hurting myself more.”

“What if you didn’t, though?” Buck asks, and gets on the bed, situating himself against the headboard. He stretches his legs out, impossibly long, and spreads them, gesturing at the space in between.

“Buck—” Eddie starts, then cuts himself off, because he can’t think of anything to say that isn’t entirely too vulnerable.

But then he looks at Buck, arms held out like he’s waiting for him, and some of that same vulnerability is painted across his face.

“Just try it.” Buck’s tone is soft, close to pleading. “Eddie, you’re dead on your feet. Surely it’s worth a shot.”

And it’s only because Eddie knows Buck so well that he hears the insecurity in his voice, like maybe Eddie’s hesitation is about Buck somehow. It’s what nudges him to take a step towards the bed, and then another, until he’s awkwardly clambering on and trying to position himself one-handed.

Buck’s arms come up to help him, guiding and supporting without manhandling. Together, they get him settled against Buck’s chest. He leans his head back, and Buck rests his chin on Eddie’s uninjured shoulder.

“Is this okay?” Buck whispers, and Eddie nods against him. His shoulder isn’t completely painless, because this isn’t a utopia and Buck isn’t actually magical, but it isn’t throbbing the way it does when he tries to lie down.

Buck is warm against his back, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. Eddie fights to stay awake, because he wants to spend several hours cataloguing every place Buck’s body is pressed against his so he can return to it later. But the weeks of sleep deprivation are catching up with him, and exhaustion weighs heavy on his eyelids.

He’s half asleep when he feels Buck raise his arms, hovering around him like he’s asking for permission. Eddie can’t find the words in his sleep-addled brain, so he reaches out with his uninjured arm, feeling around until he finds Buck’s arm and pulling it to his waist. There’s a soft huff of laughter in his ear, then Buck’s arms are tightening around him, tangled with his good arm.

Eddie can’t be sure, but he thinks the last thing he feels before drifting off might be Buck’s lips along his jaw.

#buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fic #buddie #this is just some soft idiots unaware their pining is mutual #as per usual tbh #shush emma #emma writes #time-zone-wise this might be a real dumb posting time but here we are

[leedongwook]

Under Pressure

My thoughts and wishes for 4x13 Buck and Eddie get both targeted by the shooter 

(Sorry this is not beta-read so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes hope you can still enjoy the fic :))

There‘s an annoying ringing in his ears and Buck really needs it to stop. He tries to move his head around but stops when he feels something hard and cold rub against his cheek. He feels cold and it’s dark.

Why was it dark? Wasn‘t it in the middle of the day? Right, his eyes are closed, but why? What has he been doing again?

Suddenly there are loud noises around him and Buck's getting even more annoyed that he can’t get his eyes to open. He wiggles his toes and moves his fingers. It takes a couple of more seconds, but he‘s finally able to open his eyes a bit.

The light is too bright and it blinds his eyes. He blinks again because his vision is still blurry.

He really needs to get up, he feels so cold. He awkwardly tries to shift his body, when a searing pain rips through his side and makes him stop moving. He hears someone groan and realizes it’s himself. His side is throbbing and he feels like throwing up.

What on earth had happened?

He drags his left arm downwards to his side and realizes something wet and sticky on the ground.

He notices the smell now. Is that blood?

"- uck!“

He moves again and the pain running through his side snaps his focus back and his eyes fly open. The sun is shining bright in the sky, he can see that now. It's May and it should be warm, but Buck can’t stop shaking.

"Hey, Buck! Don’t - don‘t move ok! Stay still.“

Buck turns his head towards the voice, he can hear clearly now. Still, a bit blurry, Eddie’s face comes into his view.

" Ed- die? What? Where 'r we?“

"Please Buck, don’t move. The shooter is still somewhere out there."

The shooter?

There’s a plopping sound right next to him and Eddie cries out.

Buck looks over to Eddie and only now realizes that Eddie is lying on the floor. Just like him.

Eddie’s breathing hard and he holds his right hand to his shoulder. It’s red and a small river of blood is trickling over his knuckles, down his arm. His sleeve is already tainted in red. Buck follows the red line on Eddie's arm and finds more blood on the floor.

Oh my god, Eddie’s been shot.

"Eddie, you are shot? Eddie!“

Eddie looks at him in pain, then slowly shuffles over to where Buck is lying. Buck tries to move too, but there’s this sharp pain in his side again and it takes his breath away. He starts coughing which causes his side to scream out in pain even more and it's really getting on his nerves.

"Buck, you need to breathe, please breathe. You need to put pressure on your side. Do you understand? Gah, Buck, please.“

Eddie’s got tears in his eyes and his head falls back onto the concrete in frustration.

"What? Why? Eddie, I don’t... I ...“

What does Eddie mean? Why does he need to put pressure on his side, it’s hurting him enough already.

He looks down on his body and almost has to throw up again when he sees his white shirt painted in red. His fingers crawl wander along on the concrete and he can feel the wetness on it. He moves then over to his side and he touches the places where the blood seems to come from.

He screams and doesn’t know how to breathe anymore. Ok, this doesn't look too good. Something's really wrong.

"Buck, calm down, please. Put pressure on your side, I think it’s a through, and through. You need to stop the bleeding. Come on, snap out of it.“

Eddie’s voice fades away and Buck sees dark spots dancing on the edges of his vision.

"I - I can’t, I can’t. Eds I'm sorry.“

He's breathing heavily now, face pressed against the concrete. The ground smells like blood and dirt and Buck gags.

"Please, you need to try. You need to stop the blood flow.“

Buck blinks his eyes open again and looks over to his friend who had rolled onto his side and still holds his own shoulder. His hands are redder than before and Eddie’s face looks pale and sweaty.

They need help. They need help now.

“HELP! PLEASE HELP!”

Buck screams or he thinks he does. His throat hurts and feels dry.

Buck feels himself fading and he knows he needs to put pressure on his wound. He can’t get himself to move around though, so he tries to get his hands under his side, to stop the bleeding.

He can’t get his hand under his hip, it hurts too much and so he just lets it flop down on the ground next to him.

He’s gonna die here, on the street, because he can’t help himself. What a firefighter he is.

He closes his eyes again and drifts for a few seconds.

Suddenly there’s pressure on his side, fingers digging into his wound and the increasing pain makes his eyes fly open again.

Eddie’s face is right in front of him now and he’s got tears running down his cheeks, dripping into the red sea of blood underneath them.

"Don’t you dare check out on me, Buck. Don’t you dare!"

Buck chuckles at that, it’s ironic, that he’s back at being hurt again, back at worrying people. It seems like it’s the only thing he can do.

He doesn’t want Eddie to worry again, doesn’t want to see him sad.

“Come on, Buck stay with me!”

Bucks lips feel numb and he wants to say so many things, but he’s just mumbling incoherent things. He can't think straight.

“-ot gonna leave you, Eds.”

Eddie pushes harder on his wound and he moans out loud again.

“You’re a good friend, Eds. Best friend. I love you.”

He slowly moves his fingers over to Eddie’s face and strokes gently at his cheek, leaving a bloody trail on it.

Buck feels like they’re lying here, on the street, for hours and nothing happens.

Eddie just looks at him with tired eyes. The pressure of Eddie’s hand on his side lessens and his fingers slowly slip away and Buck can see his friend closing his eyes. His hand falls off his own shoulder and comes to rest next to his head.

“Hey, you're not checking out on me either, Eds. You still owe me a revanche at the ps4 game, you cheater.”

“I - I don’t cheat Buckley, you’re just so bad in playing this game.”

They both chuckles, but Buck starts coughing and he tastes blood in his mouth.

“Sorry Buck, I'm sorry I can't - I can't ... anymore..."

Eddie’s hand slips from holding onto Bucks' side completely now and he can feel getting soaked with more blood. He’s not shivering anymore though, and he knows this is not a good sign.

“It’s ok Eddie, it’s ok, thank you for holding on.”

Eddie’s eyes close and his chest barely moves. Buck feels the darkness overcome him too when suddenly there’s movement around them.

“Buck!!!! Eddie !!!!! Wake up?! Come on stay with us!!! COME ON!!!”

Buck's eyes are barely open and he slowly lifts his hand towards Eddie.

Please, please, help him please! Help Eddie.

Someone grabs his arm and rubs a hand over his sternum to rouse him. He feels too heavy and tired though and lets darkness pull him under.

At least they can help Eddie now. They need to help Eddie.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“You know, you could really open your eyes now, kid.”

Buck groans and moves his head around on the pillow. Why can’t he just sleep in for once? He’s not having a shift today, is he?

“You’re scaring us a bit there, Buck. Especially Eddie here is a bit of a nervous wreck, so if you please could open those blue eyes for us.”

Eddie? Why is Eddie worried? Isn’t he with Chris?

Buck becomes restless and tries to shake himself awake. He wiggles his toes which makes his hips move and then there’s this weird dull pain in his side that makes him stop moving.

He grips at the fabric of his bedsheets. They itch and feel cold.

His side throbs in pain again. Ok, something's not right.

He hears a whimper and realizes it’s him. He fights hard and peels his eyes open. It’s too bright and he can feel the sun shining on his face. His eyes roll around and he sees the white lights, white ceiling and the white blanket resting on his chest.

There’s a hand holding his arm.

“There you are, kid. How are you feeling?”

“Not my bed, Cap?!”

Bobby chuckles and squeezes at his arm.

“No Buck, not your bed, unfortunately.”

Buck groans and lets his head flop back onto the too hard pillow. He hates hospitals.

“Why am I in hospital, Bobby?”

Bobby’s face goes serious and Buck can see red lines under his eyes. He must have been worried too then.

“There was a shooter, who targeted LAFD members. Do you remember that?”

Buck swallows hard. He needs something to drink. He nods absently. He does remember the threats someone made. But he never thought they’d actually do this. Who would do this?

“You - you got shot. They hit you in your side. It was a through and through, thankfully no important organs but you lost so much blood because we couldn’t get to you sooner.”

Buck looks at Bobby and he can see the sorrow in his eyes.

“And Eddie.”

Hearing Eddie’s name Buck's mind starts to go into overload, pictures of the incident flashing before his eyes. The cold floor and blood, there was so much blood. Eddie’s bloody hands and tears.

Oh my god, Eddie was shot too.

Buck almost jumps out of his bed, but Bobby stops him. The injury on his side isn’t happy about his sudden movement and the pain increases immensely so he need needs to close his eyes for a bit and tries to steady his breathing. After some seconds Buck feels the pain subsiding a bit again.

Okay. Moving around is not a good idea at the moment. Noted.

He opens his eyes again and grabs at Bobby’s arm.

“Where is Eddie? Is he ok? Bobby, where is he?”

“Calm down, Buck. Eddie is alright. Look.”

Bobby moves his head towards the other side of Buck's bed and Buck's eyes follow it. Slumped, in a way too uncomfortable chair, is sitting Eddie. His head is resting on his chest. His breath comes out steady and he’s got a good color on his face. His shoulder is bandaged and in a sling.

“Also a through and through but the bullet knicked an artery. Thankfully he was able to stop the bleeding for a bit.”

Buck remembers how Eddie crawled over to him and put pressure on both of their wounds.

“He saved me. He - he rolled over to me and pushed on my wound. I wouldn’t be - I ...”

Buck's eyes swell up and tears run down his cheeks.

Bobby gently rubs at his shoulder.

“He did yeah. He didn’t let go.”

Eddie suddenly coughs and his eyes blink open. He looks around and his eyes land on Buck. He straightens his body and shuffles closer to the bed. He puts his hand on Bucks hand.

“Hey, you’re awake. It’s about damn time.”

Bobby lets go of Buck's shoulder and moves towards the door.

“I’m gonna call Maddie and let her know you’re awake. She’s going to want to see you.”

Buck nods and looks back at Eddie.

“Eds your shoulder. Are you ok?”

Eddie smiles and scratches at his head.

“I’ve had worse.”

Buck rolls his eyes but takes Eddie’s hand into his.

“Oh shut up, you been whining like a baby about your shoulder.”

Eddie laughs.

“Says the one who couldn't even stop his own bleeding huh.”

His friend's face turns sad though and tears spill into his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re ok, Buck. I'm so glad.”

Buck squeezes his hand gently.

“I’m glad you’re ok too. Thank you for not letting go, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles.

“Got your back. remember?!”

“Yeah.”

Buck feels tired again and leans back on his pillow. The movement jostles his wound again and pain flares up.

“Oh, man getting shot sucks.”

Eddie chuckles.

“Right? It does. But hey, Chim and Hen are gonna have to do our chores for the next couple of weeks while we can watch and order them around."

Buck laughs out loud.

“Yeah, that we can do.”

#911 #911 fox #911 fanfiction #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash #s04e13 #haleysfics #my writing #tw: gun violence #tw: blood and injuries #hurt/comfort #buck whump #eddie whump #my fics #haleys fics

[diazbuckleys]

always looking for ways to love you

post 4.13, comfort and confessions

wc: 1800

Eddie can tell he's lying in a hospital cot before he even opens his eyes. He knows the scent of it by heart; that stark smell of Purell, body odor, and death, so strong it burns his nostrils. And then, the feel of starched sheets against his fingers. That terrible, burning pain, ripping through his right shoulder.

"Edmundo," a soft voice says, and Eddie opens his eyes.

It's Ana. Of course it is. No one else ever calls him by his birth name. There's something comforting in the way she says it, but it's also painfully familiar. He can still hear his father's voice ringing in his ears when he had told his parents about his plan to leave their hometown with Chris in tow. Edmundo, don't do this. You're making a terrible mistake.

He opens his eyes, and he really looks at her. And he feels that sharp, shameful stab of disappointment. She really is very beautiful.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she says, and Eddie realizes she's been crying. "God-I really wondered for a moment whether you were going to wake up."

“Yeah," Eddie manages, his voice coming out in a weak croak that he's too exhausted to care about. "Yeah, I'm still here."

She squeezes his hand, where her thin fingers are threaded through his.

He sits up suddenly, blinking away the sleep and the heavy pain in his shoulder. "Is Chris...?"

"Asleep. Carla took him home a few hours ago. He wanted to stay, but, you know. It's getting late."

"Oh. Thank you." He looks around the room. It's sparse and dreary like they always are, with only a pair of plastic cushioned chairs in the corner and one large window with the blinds drawn. He wonders what time it is, how long it's been since the accident.

Slowly, inevitably, Eddie's mind starts drifting to Buck. He remembers pieces of the attack; Buck being tackled by Captain Mehta, as people screamed and ducked for cover all around them. In retrospect, Buck had probably laid on the ground across from him for only a few minutes. But in the moment it had felt like time had slowed. It had felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Ana seems to notice his distraction, and squeezes his hand again. "I let a nurse know you were awake. She should be over in a few minutes."

He smiles at her, feeling another piece of that piercing guilt. A part of Eddie wishes he could love her in the way he should. But he can't; he knows that now.

"Thank you, Ana. I'm glad you're here."

She looks at him questioningly. Despite everything, she has always been good at telling when something is wrong. "But?"

Eddie thinks about Buck on the ground, staring at Eddie soundlessly as blood dripped from his face and onto his clean white shirt. Eddie thinks about reaching out to him in the final moments before his eyes slipped shut, thinking I'm going to die, and he'll never know how I feel, or about any of it. But Eddie's alive, and so is Buck.

"But-I can't do this. I think you know that."

Ana, sweet Ana Flores, lets go of his hand with a sad smile. She sighs, like she's coming to terms with something she had tried to forget.

Finally, she says; "Yes, Edmundo. I know."

Eddie reaches for her hand again, soft and warm, and holds onto it tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want-I didn't mean for it to happen this way.

Ana gives him that sad smile again. "Oh, Eddie. You can't choose where your heart goes. It hurts, but I'm just sorry I didn't realize it sooner."

Eddie frowns. His head is still pounding, and every part of him wants to fall back into the comforts of sleep. Instead, he props himself up on his elbows and blinks his eyes open. "Realize what?"

"That you already have a family. You have Chris. You have Buck."

It's the first time either of them have acknowledged it out loud, and Eddie swallows a lump in his throat.

"A family?

She lets go of his hand, carefully. “Do me a favor, Eddie? Don't mess it up. For my sake."

"I won't," Eddie says, throat stuck with emotion. But there's one more thing he has to ask. "And, um. Is he here?"

Ana frowns. "I'm sorry. They're all still trying to track down whoever it was that attacked you."

Eddie's face falls, and he lets himself collapse back into the sheets. If Buck is out there with the shooter- even the thought makes Eddie's chest constrict.

"Edmundo," Ana says, tone surprisingly firm, "he's going to be okay."

Eddie nods. Of course he is. It's Buck. He has to be.

"I'm really glad you're here," he says again, grateful.

"Good luck, Eddie Diaz," she says in lieu of a response, and smiles at him before she goes, like she really, really means it.

*******

At some point after a smiling nurse enters the room, checks his vitals, and declares him "in recovery", Eddie falls asleep again. He dreams about blood spilling on the open road, the St. Christopher pendant clattering against the pavement as he fell. Buck's blue eyes, wide with terror, staring, staring, staring.

*******

And then, some indeterminable number of hours later, he's awake again. This time, the sound that drags him to the surface of consciousness isn't a voice, but the steady beat of the hospital machinery. A sign that he's still here, breathing, despite everything.

Someone else is holding his hand. Eddie feels the strong, calloused fingers gripping him tightly, and he almost wants to sob. He's okay. He came back to me.

"Hey there," Buck says, and a thousand pounds of grief and worry lift from Eddie's shoulders.

"Hi," Eddie says, and cracks a sleepy smile up at Buck. Evan Buckley, Firefighter, friend, the fucking love of Eddie's life.

Eddie blinks a little in the harsh light. “What time is it? What day is it?"

Buck leans down to check his watch, and Eddie wonders distantly where it came from, or if he had just never noticed it before. He thinks that maybe becoming more observant is something he should work on. "11:27 PM, Tuesday. Three days since you were shot."

"And the shooter?" Eddie presses. "Did you find him?"

Buck shakes his head, still clutching tightly to Eddie's hand. "Nope, still on the lookout. But Cap thought it was more important that I be here."

Eddie feels a little lightheaded and dizzy at the words. Buck's here, real and breathing in front of him. Holding his hand.

He looks terrible, Eddie notices. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles resting underneath them. His hair is a blond, tangled mess, and his tee shirt has a coffee stain around the collar. Eddie thinks suddenly about how truly awful the shooting must have been for Buck. He wonders if he was able to get all of the blood out of his shirt.

"I brought Christopher with me," Buck says when Eddie doesn't speak. "He and Carla are both passed out in the hallway."

Eddie sighs. "Thanks, Buck. I hate for him to see me like this."

Buck nods, and strokes his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand, in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. He looks like he's trying to gather the courage to say something.

"Look, man," Buck starts abruptly, "I'm sorry. I should have done better."

It takes everything within Eddie not to take hold of Buck by the shoulders and shake him.

"Buck. Stop it, seriously. You did everything right."

"No, Eddie. Let me just-"

Fuck. Buck's voice is breaking. Eddie can't even remember the last time he saw him cry.

"I'm fucking sorry, man. I saw you get shot, and I just couldn't move. It was like I was frozen, watching the bullet hit you, watching you fall. And later I kept thinking about Chris, and how terrible it would have been if we-if he had lost you. Telling him what happened, after you got hurt, when we didn't know if you were going to make it-that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. He kept on just looking at me, and fuck. I had to tell him that-and I didn't know-"

Buck's crying. Full on crying, and all Eddie can do is stare.

"Um." Buck says a moment later, clearing his throat with an embarrassed flush, and wiping furiously at his eyes. "Anyway. Sorry. You deserve better, and I just-"

"Evan Buckley," Eddie says with conviction, and that shuts Buck up.

"I don't know what it will take for me to get this through your head, but you are not a disappointment. You didn't do anything wrong. I have no fucking idea what I'd do without you, actually. So please, don't try to tell me you're not good enough for me, or that you should have done better. Because you are good enough. You are. Okay?"

"Okay," Buck says, and then they're quiet. The clock over the doorway ticks slowly. Outside, the overcast sky has started to rain.

Buck rubs one hand over his tired eyes. "I just care about you, so much, Eddie. And the fact that there was even a possibility I wasn't going to get to see you again, and laugh at your stupid jokes and eat your terrible dinners-I couldn't take it."

And, goddamnit, Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone like he loves Buck.

"I'm sorry too, that I made you worry. But I'm still here."

Buck smiles. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"Shut up," Eddie retorts, laughing, "you love me."

Buck stills at that, fidgeting with Eddie's hand, but refuses to meet him in the eye.

"You know," Eddie says slowly, suddenly feeling brave, "Carla said something to me the other day, about following my heart. And then Ana was in here earlier, and I, uh. Ended things."

Buck sits up straight at that. "You broke up with her? Why?"

"Because," Eddie says. "Because-"

Buck kisses him. They're only sitting inches away from each other, but it feels like Buck's bridged a gap. Reached across a mountainous valley and pulled Eddie over to the other side.

Buck's lips taste like salt, and Eddie realizes one of them must be crying but he isn't sure who. They're both smiling, even if there are tears, too. It's sort of the most perfect thing Eddie has ever experienced.

Buck kisses him, and it feels like everything has fallen into place.

Eddie doesn't want to pull away, but he does anyway. He was just shot, after all, and already he’s feeling dizzy. He imagines there will be plenty more kisses in their future, ones that don't take place in stiff hospital beds. He hopes so, anyway.

"I love you, you know," Eddie says when he catches his breath. He feels like he's fifteen and he's just kissed a girl outside of their school gymnasium. He already wants to kiss Buck again.

Buck grins. "God, I love you too. But, Eds, please do me a favor."

"Yeah?”

"Try not to get shot again."

#HERE IT IS BABES #ROUGH BUT I HAD TO GET IT OUT #was i too nice to ana here? #maybe #but she’s pretty #911 #buddie #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ana flores

[panicatthediaz]

Fake married + time travel au

(numbers 49 and 97, for the record)

Okay, this should be fun. Doctor Who inspired, I guess. (honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing, I found a vibe and I'm rolling with it)

I don't think this quite fits the fake married trope, though hah

Among the things that Eddie hadn't expected when he took the family ship with Christopher, trying to get away from his parents, was meeting this kind man who genuinely listened to everything Christopher was saying with interest, asking questions at the right moments.

They weren't away from Ramon and Helena for long when they met, maybe a month or so. Evan ("Please, call me Buck.") hadn't been away from his own old home long either.

But, that wasn't here nor there, actually.

What mattered is that Buck had been traveling with them for a while now, and the man had a genuine wonder toward everything they encountered, surpassed only by Christopher's.

Another thing Eddie didn't expect was how quickly Buck could just... Absorb things he learned. Languages took a while, sure, but he made an effort to learn despite the translators they could just carry in their pockets. He did appreciate how the habit of learning stuck to Christopher too.

They'd been in this particular planet-time for a few weeks, a couple of centuries in the future from where they were all born, and both Buck and Christopher had immediately decided to learn the most they could.

Now, though, Christopher was asleep; nights here seemed to be a little shorter than on Earth, so there was no wiggle room on his bedtime. They were lucky the locals found them a private place to rest and charge their ship, Eddie was honestly tired from the day of wandering after his boys— after Christopher and Buck.

(He sometimes struggled to remember that Buck wasn't his. He was free to leave whenever he wanted, Eddie was just waiting for the "this has been fun, but I want to go home now" while trying not to hope that Buck's home had become just like his own, the two people he had been traveling across time and space with.

He was just waiting for whatever Buck had been gathering up his courage to ask.)

He was checking on their ship's remote systems when Buck dropped onto the cushions next to him, staring dead ahead a little blankly. Eddie waited him out, well aware that whatever was running in circles in his mind would eventually be spoken out loud.

"Do you know why these homes have a teleportation system built-in?" He asked, tilting his head in Eddie's direction but not really turning to face him.

"These houses are all pretty far apart, right?" At least that's what he saw, incredibly spaced-out houses, and even further spaced-out villages. It made getting around incredibly tricky and something that needed some planning. "The teleportation system makes things a lot easier."

"Even if you refused to use them?" Buck teased, glancing at him with a wide smile.

"Shut up," he groused, though mostly for the sake of it because of course Buck knew there was no real annoyance behind it. He leaned his shoulder against Buck in a nudge. "You two at least had some fun because of it."

Buck shook his head, laughing lightly, but he sobered quickly, turning back to the distant wall. There was still a smile on his face, though, so it couldn't be too bad.

"They developed teleportation and other means of fast travel because they often go on these long journeys before settling down," he explained. Eddie couldn't really hold back his own smile, even if he wasn't sure what the endpoint was. "If they find someone they think they might spend the rest of their lives with? They take whatever they should be able to carry and go on this... Pilgrimage of sorts." He shrugged. "New place, new life, and a new love, you know?"

Eddie stared at Buck for a moment, unsure what to say to that because, yeah, actually, he did know. But he didn't get the time to come up with anything.

"But family is too important, so they had to find a way to keep a door open," he added, a small frown creasing his forehead. "Once they settle down or decide that their companion isn't good for them, they either make a new home or go back to their old family home."

"Buck—"

"It's kind of what we are doing, isn't it?" He interrupted, finally turning to look at him. "Traveling together, with Christopher."

Eddie simply gaped at the implication, the hope and dread swirling in equal amount in him.

"I like it," Buck continued, seemingly unaware of the breath of relief Eddie let out. "I mean, for all these aliens know, we are pretty much married?"

That startled a laugh out of Eddie. Buck was looking at him with fondness shining in his eyes as well as something Eddie had never spoken out loud. Something he knew he had in his own eyes as well.

"And..." He hesitated, but Buck's expression was open, waiting for him to get his words out. "And you are okay with that? You wouldn't mind it?"

You wouldn't mind them thinking you're married? Wouldn't mind loving me?

"I don't think we can correct them on the whole marriage thing at this point," Buck argued, and a wave of disappointment was quick to wash over him, but he still had more to say. "But you can figure a date out when we get back."

And that? Eddie had no idea what his face was doing, but Buck's smile grew wider each passing second.

"You're not that subtle, Eddie," he said, poking at him with his elbow. "You're somehow less subtle than me, but even more oblivious, which Maddie would say was possible."

Eddie's response was to press a kiss to his lips, one that was quickly, easily returned. Pretending to be married wasn't really going to be a hardship, was it?

(They told Christopher over breakfast, and the kid's reply had been a fairly exasperated "finally", and they went to a proper first date the weekend after their "quick getaway". No was surprised either.)

#Trope Mash Up #911 #911fic #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #Buddie #This sparked the muse let me tell you #I've *just* had two other thoughts in relation to this #Plus the original full length fic idea

[half-bakedboy]

All Too Well

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Contains spoilers from season 5 episode 2: Desperate Times

Summary: “Is that enough?”

Buck spits the words right back, more venom that Eddie could have tried to muster. He doesn’t mean to. He really doesn’t. If anything, he had tried to keep his emotions at bay the second Ana’s name lingered between them.

But he does.

Because if that’s enough for Eddie, why doesn’t he love Buck?

Or a look inside Buck's head during their panic attack talk.

(read on ao3)

Buck has never been one to hesitate before talking to his best friend, but he sees Eddie with an arm over his face, lying down for the first time since Ana and Christopher left, and his feet feel like they’re stuck to the floor. 

He takes a few deep breaths, preparatory, anxiety-reducing, reminders that he’s breathing and that his best friend is hurting. He’s the one to make things better, to get Eddie through everything, so why is he hesitating? 

“Hey, are you sleeping or just pretending?” 

He knows the answer but is grateful when Eddie actually speaks. 

“I was actually trying to until you interrupted.”

Sarcasm, that’s— good. Buck isn’t sure when sass and thinly veiled annoyance became good but he isn’t about to overthink it like he has been for the last hour. 

“I’m exhausted,” Buck offers. He thinks that maybe if he shares something small, Eddie might be willing to give in return. “Uh, how are you feeling?” 

Buck knows the answer to this question, too, and he finds himself secretly hoping Eddie answers in sarcasm so he can truly convince himself that things are okay, that his hesitation was unwarranted.

“Hot,” Eddie drawls, “I’m sweating out of places I didn’t know I could.”

Well, Buck did ask for sarcasm. He didn’t expect the glint of arousal to strike through him like lightning, though. 

Or the quick jolt of panic as he rakes his eyes over Eddie’s body for nothing other than symptoms, an indication of what might be wrong because, for the first time since he’s met Eddie, he doesn’t know.  

“Not like a cold sweat though, right? Any chest pains?” 

Buck yearns to reach out, to feel Eddie’s pulse in his wrist, press a palm over his forehead to check for a fever. Hell, he would go grab a blood pressure cuff and EKG monitor from the ambulance if Hen and Chim wouldn’t yell at him. Buck considers it more than he should because he needs to know that Eddie’s really okay before he drives himself crazy. 

Eddie just stares, unimpressed. 

“You don’t give up, do you?” 

Nope, Buck thinks, though he wouldn’t risk saying it out loud. After a long exasperated sigh, Eddie relents, “I’m fine, Buck.” Like Buck is actually supposed to believe him or something. 

“People who are fine don’t go and see cardiologists,” Buck responds. 

He’s clutching the clipboard in his lap a little too tight and he feels it. The way his knuckles burn, the way his fingertips crease the papers he’s been pretending to focus on all day. He hopes Eddie doesn’t notice. He hopes that he does.

Because Eddie is a lot of things, but he isn’t oblivious. That oblivious. Buck sighs. 

“You need to tell me if something is wrong,” Buck finally says. 

It’s not a request, it’s an order. One that he’s not sure Eddie will follow, but one that he hopes will get the point across. 

Because Buck is scared.  

He’s been terrified ever since Eddie’s blood splattered all over his face, since he watched the nurses shove a tube down his throat and make no promises. Since Eddie sat beside him, alive and well, and trusted him with the most important thing in his life—in Buck’s life. 

That fear has only risen ever since he saw the way Ana smiled up at him during his welcome home and the way Eddie grinned right back, the smile Buck had too long convinced himself was his own. How comfortable she looked mixed in with his family, the family Buck started to consider his. 

He’s scared because he’s never felt so much, so strongly for another person since— No, that’s not right. He’s never felt this way about anyone . 

Eddie isn’t just another person to destroy him, another partner to tell lies and fall away. He isn’t going to be replaced in Eddie’s life just because he has someone else, someone who might know what’s going on in his head and doesn’t have to demand an answer. 

Eddie is different, he always has been. And Buck has to hold onto that. 

He does even when Eddie speaks again. 

“It was a panic attack, not a heart attack,” Eddie sighs as he sits up. Buck knows he’s irritated but he can’t bring himself to care. He has always mildly irritated Eddie, why should this time be any different?

Actually, he finds himself gripping even tighter at the clipboard—at hope— when Eddie admits to it. 

Panic. Of all the things Buck thinks Eddie is going to say, panic isn’t one of them. 

“Since when do you panic?” 

Then he considers the number of times he’s woken up in sweat-soaked sheets that felt too much like Eddie’s blood and tears in his eyes that he can’t seem to wipe away fast enough as they burn his cheeks. The pain of his sobs that still tear through him when he remembers the lost look on Eddie’s face in the firetruck, asking if Buck was okay like it mattered. The feeling of failure when Christopher’s hand patted softly at his shoulder.  

“That’s what I said.”

Something flashes in Eddie’s eyes that looks like surprise, realization, but Buck pushes it aside. He can’t cling to hope too tightly. He knows how that works out for him in the end. 

“I don’t panic,” Eddie huffs and then exhales, “except I did.” 

“Okay, well, what triggered it?” Buck lists off the reasons for his own panic, expecting a match, but Eddie doesn’t stop him to agree. 

He stops him to argue and it isn’t what Buck expects. 

“That wasn’t it,” Eddie interrupts exasperatedly. “If I’m being honest with myself, I—”

When has Eddie ever been dishonest with himself? 

“I think it was Ana.” 

Ana. The name that spirals in Buck’s mind too often when he has to remind himself that Eddie isn’t his. The name that only passes his lips drenched in sarcasm or malice or a thin veil of hope when he doesn’t think too much about what he is saying. 

The name that sparks nerves, anxiety, fear, dread, confusion— 

Panic. 

“Uh,” Buck stutters, hoping his heart beating out of his chest isn’t obvious, “I thought things were great with Ana.” 

He watched Eddie kiss her on the cheek during her surprise visit, watched as Christopher hoped out loud for a new mom, a wife for his father. Sure, he didn’t react exactly how Buck had expected, but he didn’t seem to panic. 

Or he did and Buck was too focused on his own misery to truly see it.

“She’s been a godsend through all of this, staying with Christopher, but… I think that’s what’s causing the panic.” 

He sounds so sure, so confident that there couldn’t be anything else, which is the Eddie that Buck remembers. Buck isn’t sure it’s the Eddie he wants to see at this moment, though. He wants to see Eddie happy, Eddie making plans for his future, Eddie beaming at the thought of being in love with a perfect person, the one that Ana seems to be. He wants Eddie to feel the joy that comes from spending time with him, the way Buck does. 

“Somehow we became a ready-made family and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” 

He says the other word that haunts Buck’s nightmares. 

Buck always thought he knew what family meant, what family was supposed to be, then his parents stopped caring. Then Maddie left and he was all alone. He thought he had found his family at the one-eighteen soon after and he was happy. God, was he happy, for the first time since he could remember. 

Then he met Eddie. 

Then he met Christopher. 

How defines his family is a little cloudy now. 

“So what are you gonna do?” 

And isn’t that the question of the day, the minute, the seconds that he spends gripping onto the clipboard in front of him to keep his hands from reaching, comforting, desiring. 

Eddie shakes his head. 

“I’m just gonna stick it out. Ana’s been the first woman I’ve wanted to spend this much time with since Shannon…”

“Stick it out?” 

Buck flashes back to his own attempt at sticking it out. Convincing himself that eventually, Eddie will realize what they mean to each other. His plans to stick it out even if it meant he wouldn’t be as happy as he could be, had pretended he deserved to be. He was going to stick it out because he would have Eddie in whatever way he could. 

“That’s not how you talk about someone you’re in love with.”

Buck’s not sure if he’s talking to himself or Eddie anymore. 

“My kid loves her,” Eddie shoots back, heat in his voice that doesn’t match the worry on his face. 

Buck’s not sure if he’s talking to himself or Buck anymore. 

“Is that enough?” 

Buck spits the words right back, more venom that Eddie could have tried to muster. He doesn’t mean to. He really doesn’t. If anything, he had tried to keep his emotions at bay the second Ana’s name lingered between them. 

But he does. 

He wants to grab Eddie’s shoulders, shake them until his brain wobbles into sense, kiss him and mutter the words back to him a million times over. 

Because if that’s enough for Eddie, why doesn’t he love Buck?

Is that enough? Is that enough for you to love me back? Is that enough for you to spend the rest of your life with me instead? For me to stop pretending anyone else is going to be a better fit for me than you? 

Because I love your kid more than anyone in the world, Eddie, and if that’s enough, then… 

Why not me?

Eddie’s silent for a moment too long, a second prolonged into a minute, that might have lasted forever if Buck didn’t break it. 

“Eddie, I’ve been Ana. I know what it’s like to be in love with someone who’s not all the way in.”

He thinks of his parents first. Then he thinks of Abby. Even Ali flashes through his tired mind. 

But nothing lingers like Eddie. Nothing has ever lingered like Eddie. 

“Deep down you know it and it hurts. It hurts worse than the truth.” 

Buck’s lived through a lot of truths. His parents creating him for spare parts, Abby leaving him and not looking back, Ali unable to handle the one thing he loves most in the world— loved most in the world, past tense because there are two things, two people , that have that title now. 

He’s lived through being in love with his best friend, his best friend’s family, his best friend’s son. He knows what it’s like to hold onto that hope that maybe, just maybe, someone won’t abandon him, someone won’t think he’s not enough. He has held onto the hope that someone loves him—not in the way he wants, but loves him just the same. 

Briefly he wonders if knowing Eddie doesn’t love him back would hurt more than not knowing. 

Buck shakes his head instead of saying any of his thoughts out loud. 

“So if you don’t wanna hurt Ana, you owe it to her to be honest.” 

Buck isn’t sure whether he’s talking to himself or to Eddie. 

“It just feels like a lot, man.” 

And Buck? He knows the feeling all too well. 

#911 #911 spoilers #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #buddiefanfiction #911 fic #911 coda fic #my writing #once again #my brain won't stop being my brain #until ive written a coda #so here you go #YEETS #this is not necessarily a happy one #but its the most accurate one i think ive written

[extasiswings]

You can all blame @thisissirius for this one because I was going to write some sweet fluff but instead...also on ao3 here.

“Diaz! I’m out of ammo!”

“ETA six minutes.”

“We don’t have six minutes.”

Bullets flying, the sound of gunfire popping in his ears—but then, no, he’s back on the transport, alarms blaring, falling, falling, falling out of the sky—

He’s trapped and it’s burning all around, hot, twisted, sharp metal—he scrambles over to the patient—

Hen. Burned and coated with ash, she coughs and tips her head as she looks at him.

“At least no one’s shooting at us, right Eddie?”

“Eddie?”

“Eddie.”

Eddie jerks awake, his head whipping around as his heart pounds, only to see Buck, close by with his hands raised, palms open as if he had been touching him and just pulled back. Eddie’s mouth is dry, and there’s a burn in the back of his throat like he might be sick, but he swallows hard to get himself under control as he takes in his surroundings.

They’re in the truck, he reminds himself, the surroundings familiar. He and Buck are alone, Hen up front driving—when Eddie looks at his watch, he realizes it’s only about halfway into her most recent driving shift and they still have at least another five hours before they get back to LA. Despite the darkness of the interior, Buck’s face—and specifically the concern written across it—is clear.

“It’s just me,” Buck says quietly. “Sorry, I—I wasn’t sure whether it was right to wake you up or not, but it didn’t seem like—you were sort of twitching? And you made this sound—”

“It’s okay,” Eddie assures. “It was—yeah. Um, thank you.”

His voice is raspy and there’s a cold sweat drying on his skin that makes him feel somehow dirtier and more uncomfortable than when he’d been in the field covered in soot. At home, or even at the station, he would get up in a situation like this. Would take a shower or work out until his hands stopped shaking. But he doesn’t have those options here, trapped in a moving vehicle. Is flayed open and exposed, a heady cocktail of fight-or-flight chemicals buzzing under his skin as the echoes of alarm bells and gunshots fade from his ears and his best friend looks at him like he’s a basket case—

No, that’s not fair. Buck’s looking at him the way he would look at any of them he was worried about, because Buck is a good person with a big heart. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just naked concern, and Eddie tries to remember that as he sets his elbows on his knees and drops his head into his hands, blowing out a shaky breath.

“Hey, Hen?” Buck calls, raising his voice. “Can we make a stop? I need to pee. Sorry, should have gone earlier.”

“You’re lucky I love you, Buckley,” she calls back. “And that we’re not totally in the middle of nowhere. There should be a rest stop at the next exit, I’ll turn off there.”

“Thanks.”

Eddie presses the heel of his hands to his eyes for a moment before dropping them, rolls his head on his neck to work out some of the tension in his muscles before finally looking back at Buck.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, despite the relief that floods him at the thought of escaping the confined space for even a few minutes, getting the chance to stretch his legs and breathe and maybe even splash some water on his face.

“Yes, I did,” Buck replies, his voice equally low. “Besides, you would have done it for me.”

“Sure, but I wouldn’t have needed to do it for you,” Eddie shoots back, frustration heavy on his tongue. “You can fall asleep on a road trip without worrying about—”

He cuts himself off and sighs. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m—fuck.”

“I’ve been fine,” he insists, because it feels important that he make Buck understand that. That he’s capable, that he has himself together.

He always needs to have himself together.

“I had a couple bad weeks after everything with the well last year, but I bounced back. It’s not—this doesn’t happen that often, I don’t know why—”

“Eddie, I don’t even know what this is,” Buck says. He reaches out—stops, hesitating before his hand makes contact with Eddie’s shoulder, his eyes flicking up to search Eddie’s before finally closing the rest of the distance. It’s instinct to flinch from the touch, but Eddie tamps down on the impulse, instead focusing on the weight and heat of Buck’s hand pressing down, grounding, anchoring.

“So you had a bad dream,” he continues, shrugging. “Everyone does. The other day I woke up panicked because I dreamt I was kidnapped by a supervillain who pulled all of my teeth out. It happens. Plus, I still—”

Buck looks down and swallows hard. “I still dream about the tsunami. Sometimes. And about being trapped under the truck. And it never matters how either of those things actually turned out because in the dreams—nightmares—I always lose. Christopher. My leg. Brains can be assholes. But it’s not—you had a bad dream. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“Alright, boys, we’re here,” Hen calls as the truck rolls to a stop. “Try to make it quick? I’d like to at least try to make it back in time to sleep a few hours in my own bed before my afternoon class.”

“You’re the best, Hen,” Buck replies. Eddie pushes himself up and opens the door to climb out. Even just standing on solid ground helps—he sucks in several breaths of fresh air, letting each one out slowly. The stars are bright and clear against the ink-black sky, the rest stop far enough from any major cities or the wildfire that light pollution or smoke don’t dim their shine. Buck’s hand brushes against Eddie’s back as he climbs out of the truck as well, a gentle, casual thing that feels more like habit than a deliberate touch. A subtle, familiar ghost that whispers I’m here, behind, hello.

Eddie doesn’t feel the urge to flinch away from that touch.

When Buck starts off in the direction of the restrooms, Eddie pushes off the truck and follows.

“I got my silver star after my platoon’s medical transport helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan,” he admits a few minutes later, after he washes his hands and splashes water on his face for good measure. “We crashed, I got almost everyone out of the wreckage. We took heavy fire...I really thought I was gonna die that night. Wound up with three bullet wounds and a medal and a hell of a lot of guilt over the one guy who didn’t make it home.”

“And Hen was in a helicopter crash yesterday,” Buck fills in. “That you watched happen.”

Eddie sighs. “And Hen was in a helicopter crash yesterday, yeah,” he admits. “I didn’t think—we were doing search and rescue in a wildfire, it wasn’t a battlefield, we weren’t getting shot at, and she was fine. She is. Fine. And I’m fine. There’s no reason—”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m fine,” he repeats.

Buck goes quiet for a moment, catching his lower lip between his teeth. And then he says—

“I’m in therapy.” His tongue sweeps out and wets his lips. “I’m fine, too. But I’m in therapy. Because I realized that I didn’t want to settle for fine. And also that I could be...more fine. Finer. Finest.”

“Do you think that’s something I should be ashamed of?” He asks.

“Of course not,” Eddie says, his stomach dropping at the very thought. “I would never think—no, Buck that’s great—if it’s helping, I’m happy for you.”

“Then why are you ashamed of yourself just because your fine isn’t perfect?”

“I—” Words catch in Eddie’s throat as he squirms at the logic. He doesn’t think because it’s me is a response that’s going to fly, but that’s all that comes to mind. And maybe that means Buck has a point.

Buck takes a step closer, closing the distance between them. His hand curves around the side of Eddie’s neck, thumb pressing ever so lightly under Eddie’s chin to tip his head up. The look in his eyes is soft and makes Eddie feel exposed in an entirely different way than he had in the truck. But he doesn’t think he dislikes the feeling.

“You went through hell and you survived,” Buck says quietly. “So you have a few scars. You never have to be ashamed of that. Especially not in front of me.”

Eddie shudders out a breath and leans in, closing his eyes as he drops his head to Buck’s shoulder. Buck adjusts to wrap his arms around him, holding tight, and they stand there embracing for a long moment as the remaining tension bleeds from Eddie’s shoulders.

“Why did I hear TK telling you he’s in a serious relationship before we left?” Eddie asks once he feels steady enough to pull away.

Buck’s cheeks go pink as he laughs. “Uh—well. I think he thought I was coming onto him?”

Eddie bites his cheek to keep from smiling. “Were you? I guess he’s okay...if that’s the kind of look you’re into.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You know there was only one person there I wanted to flirt with.”

“Marjan?” Eddie offers, and the eyeroll becomes an exasperated stare.

“I agreed to glacially slow, not nonexistent,” Buck points out, stepping in and leaning in and—

Eddie’s fingers curl into the front of Buck’s shirt as Buck’s mouth ghosts over his, using to grip to pull him down into a proper kiss.

“If he had stuck around long enough for me to get over my surprise, I would have told him I was spoken for,” Buck adds, a little breathless when he steps back.

“Glacially slow or not?”

“Glacially slow or not.” Buck’s lips curve up as he laces their fingers. “I told you months ago I didn’t mind waiting. I’m in this. However long it takes.”

Eddie squeezes his hand.

“Thank you,” he says. And there are so many things that could be meant by that, he’s not even sure he can name them all. But Buck seems to get it anyway.

“Come on. Let’s go back.”

“Let’s go home,” Eddie adds. Their hands slide apart as they leave the restroom, but Eddie still feels Buck’s warmth sinking into his skin, like sunlight chasing away shadows. And as he climbs back into the truck, he thinks that maybe Buck’s right. Maybe he could be more than fine. Maybe admitting that isn’t a bad thing.

When he falls asleep again, he doesn’t dream.

#chapel writes #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fic #buddie fic