#the inherent homoeroticism of buck and eddie in a kitchen

[leothil]

fic recs: archive edition 15

Hello again and happy 911 bts posting season! To cope with the longing for S7 and maybe find some more inspiration for spec and spiraling sessions, why not take a look at some fall 2021 fics. We've got AUs, codas, and a whole lot of Eddie and Buck talking in the kitchen.

Find all the previous archive recommendations here!

a touch of someone else (to save me from myself) by allyasavedtheday (@littlespoonevan) Canon divergence where Eddie joins the 118 in S1 instead of S2, which means Eddie meets Buck 1.0. Very sweet and funny! 19.4k words, rated T

at the kitchen table by iphigenias (@oatflatwhite) Coda to 5x03. Eddie is single, Buck isn't, and they address the elephant in the room. The truest tag of them all: "the inherent homoeroticism of Eddie and Buck in a kitchen" 1.6k words, rated T

Bases Loaded by @lamardeuse It starts with them getting together, and Eddie asks to go slow. Every scene is a slow escalation one step further, and I'll be honest this is probably up there in fics I've reread the most in this fandom. Also look at this artwork by @luluxa, I'm obsessed with it! 2.1k words, rated E

tell the whole wide world and this room by @hattalove Established relationship fluff where Eddie proves he actually listens to and remembers all the random fun facts Buck tells him. I'm-melting-over-it sweet, and yes, they're, naturally, in the kitchen. 5.2k words, rated T

everything i feel for you (it hits me) by lecornergirl (@clusterbuck) Buck kisses Eddie, freaks out, and runs to Maddie and Chimney. Quoting the author: "for frida, as an apology for dragging her into this clown car of a fandom." Seeing as I'm still here two and a half years later with no end in sight, I think the apology isn't needed anymore. 1.6k words, rated G

Enjoy, everyone!

#911 fic rec #buddie fic rec #fic rec #buddie fic #911 fic #frida's archive project

[oatflatwhite]

i rambled in the tags here and here so this. certainly is a fic i have written.

*

Buck is warm under Eddie’s hands, and tastes like the chili they’d made for dinner—abuela’s recipe Eddie normally wasn’t allowed to even touch. When he’d told her Buck was coming over to help make it, though, the tone of her voice had softened, and it sounded like she was smiling on the other end of the line. “I’ll text him the recipe,” she’d said, and maybe it should’ve been strange, Eddie’s grandma texting his best friend, but it wasn’t because he knew they did already—about abuela’s cutworm problem, and the daytime soap the two of them watched that no one else in their lives could stand. Buck had put Eddie on chopping duty, standing close enough the warmth of him seeped through the denim they were both wearing, Eddie in his nicest jeans, a clothing choice he’d tried not to read too much into when he’d made it.

That warmth now feels tenfold, hundredfold—Buck is pressed to him, wrist to wrist, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, arching into Eddie’s body where he has him boxed in against the refrigerator. “If we don’t soak the pot,” Buck gasps, when Eddie pulls away, marvelling at the feel of stubble burn around his mouth, “it’ll stick.”

Eddie’s skin feels raw, on fire. Buck’s eyes are dark, pupils blown, and his birthmark looks cherry red—a bullseye. Eddie kisses it; trails his mouth down, temple, cheekbone, dimple, jaw. Feels, more than sees, Buck’s eyes flutter closed; the way his arms come around Eddie, cling to the fabric of his henley at his waist, desperately clutching for purchase. He finds Buck’s lips; chases the way the kiss makes him feel until Buck is opening, opening, opening to him, a flower turned toward the sun. He pulls back, the wet sound almost obscene, and rests his forehead to Buck’s, panting. There’s sweat at the backs of his knees. “Let it stick,” he says, and kisses Buck again, pressing him closer to the fridge, up and against the cool stainless steel that does nothing to alleviate the heat coursing through Eddie’s body.

Buck moans beneath him, pulling Eddie in by the hips, and does something with his tongue that makes him shiver. Eddie presses closer, closer still, shifting so the handle isn’t digging into Buck’s back and as they move, the magnets fall from the fridge, clattering somewhere out of sight. Eddie doesn’t care. Eddie is so far beyond caring he thinks if he tried it would fry a neuron in his brain but Buck—Buck is pushing at his hips, his shoulders. Eddie pulls back with a wounded sound.

“The magnets,” Buck says, and he sounds winded, and Eddie, Eddie did that. His eyes are still dark and heavy but he smiles, silly, stupid; brushes the careful pad of his thumb against the bone beneath Eddie’s eye. “You know they’re Christopher’s favourite.” He pushes Eddie back a little further and crouches down, collecting the colourful figures from the floor, even the one that’s disappeared all the way down the space between the cupboards and the dishwasher, reaching into the gap up to his shoulder to retrieve it. He emerges, victorious, and stands, securing the magnets back to the fridge in the circle Chris had arranged them in.

Eddie has a hand over his mouth. “What?” Buck laughs, and his ears have gone almost as red as his mouth. Eddie shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says. “I love you.”

The blush spreads like a tide across Buck’s nose and cheeks, already crinkled from his smile. “Oh, well, if that’s all.” He shifts from foot to foot. “Look, I might as well just soak the pot.”

Eddie nods, steps to the side. Watches Buck place the pot, already scraped clean, into the sink and flick the water on, adding detergent. He grabs the sponge and gives the stovetop a once over, careful to scoop the crumbs into his palm and not on the floor. He washes his hands under the stream of water then shuts it off, drying them on the tea towel by the sink.

“Now we’ve got that sexy bit of housework out the way,” and he’s barely finished the sentence before Eddie’s kissing him again, pressed up against the counter this time, mindful of the magnets. Buck takes the hint and boosts himself up into a seat, Eddie’s hands finding purchase in the thick, corded muscle of his thighs that he thinks he might die from if he ever touches the bare skin there. “I was,” Buck gasps, tilting his head back, “kidding about the sexy—Eds—housework, you know.”

Eddie kisses the bob of his throat as he swallows. “Sure you were.”

“Really?” When Eddie glances up Buck’s squinting at him. “Housework’s what gets you going? Want me to put on some rubber gloves? Maybe a maid’s—” He hums into Eddie’s mouth, looping his arms around the back of his neck and toying with the sweat-damp hair there. The kiss is still warm but slower, more tender; when Eddie rocks back on his heels he kisses the tip of Buck’s eyebrow. Buck’s eyes flutter open and he looks at Eddie, fond, the way he’s been looking at him for years. “That wasn’t a ‘no’ to the maid’s outfit.”

“That was a ‘Buck, please stop talking and just kiss me already’.”

“Since you asked nicely,” Buck smiles, the asshole, and does just that.

#/hides face in hands #buddie #buddie fic #buddiefanfiction #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 on fox #buck #eddie #oatflatwrites #the inherent homoeroticism of buck and eddie in a kitchen

[kitchenscene]

Top 5 buddie moments that made you feel “that’s definitely not just a friendship” ?

1. "i've failed that kid more times than i care to count, and i'm his father. but i love him enough to never stop trying. and i know you do too." like ahahah wtf wtf wtf who says that what sane person says that. and immediately following it with "there's is nobody in this world that i trust with my son more than you." sir you have several blood relatives within the state borders. within the CITY borders i can't believe you said that oh my GOD

2. "what, so we can end up with two cut lines?" this is the most distraught we've seen buck. he. he attempted to dig through forty feet of mud with his bare hands. i have ranted about this time and time again but the implication that buck would rather die with eddie than live without him. the pure devotion, 'don't go where i can't follow', etc. my god

3. "i could still take you," and the inherent homoeroticism of the kitchen scene. if christopher wasn't there they would've fucked.

4. "i need you to hang on," and the entirety of the 4.13/4.14 shooting scene. the way eddie literally got shot and he has the audacity to ask buck, "are you hurt?" bro there's a hole in your shoulder and you're focused on him? your blood is splattered across your best friends face. he knows the taste of your blood and wishes he never did. like:

5. "it's in my will that if i die, you become christopher's legal guardian," and, "no one will ever fight for my son as hard as you." who says that. who does that. who puts their homie in their will without telling them for an ENTIRE YEAR. eddie diaz i want to study you i want to pick you apart with my little forecepts and preserve your brain in ethanol. what the fuck

#these men r insane #anon #otp: two cut lines