𝟏𝟏𝟖

the young boy's grin deepens, it unfurls across features like a dawn breaking over stilled waters. he tracks buck with a perceptive gaze, with a gleaming set of amber hues, with a quiet admiration reserved for heroes in comic books, or perhaps for the spaces between pages where the story breathes. there's ease to christopher, not from hesitation but from awe, from the gravity of knowing that buck is here and staying, is choosing them. fingers toy with the hem of his own shirt, a subtle and rhythmic motion, and he leans into buck just a touch as if proximity might anchor the moment in permanence.

"i think we should get both," a quite proud declaration, countenance alight with a mischief born of comfort, of a place where he's never had to to earn to receive. "pizza over the weekend and indian tonight. butter chicken and naan, actually. garlic naan. lots." he stretches the word with mock drama, as if it were the climax of a campaign he’s been privately planning. head buried in curls tilts up a bit, the same inquisitive angle he uses when sketching something delicate and authentic. "and we are celebrating, you know. not just for you two, but ‘cause this is… big." he pauses, shoulders hunching slightly like the words are braver than he feels. "you were always our buck. but now it’s for real." a breath and a blink, then ever so softly before the air could swallow it whole— "thank you for choosing us."

“ Hey, I didn't mention anything about dessert. Yet. ” He giggles, lacing their fingers together. “ But yes, I will definitely order extra naan. I think we all want more than we think we do. ” With his free hand, Buck pulls his phone from his pocket to begin the order — a few orders of butter chicken, four orders of garlic naan, and some chicken curry in case they were feeling like having something else. If not, he'd just bring it to work the next day. As soon as the order is confirmed, he sets his phone face-up on the table, and takes the opportunity to scoot closer to both Chris and Eddie.

the truck hums beneath them, tires eating up the road, and he turns his head enough to glance in the backseat. their kid has headphones half-on, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he watches the world slip by. eddie notes the way he shifts his weight, the slight favoring of his left side, and clocks it quietly. always watching, always cataloguing. but he doesn’t speak, doesn’t intervene, not unless it’s needed of him. christopher catches him looking and flashes him a thumbs-up, and so he nods in return, something easing in his chest. the driveway comes into view, gravel crunching beneath the tires as they pull in, the house still raw in places — stucco unfinished along one wall, the porch light dangling from exposed wiring. still in progress, just like them.

“ c’mon, let’s grab the cold stuff first, ” eddie says as he slips out of the passenger seat, moving to the bed of the truck to help with bags. chris is slower, careful as ever up the porch, and eddie hovers a beat before stepping back, letting him handle the incline his way. inside, the air is cooler, dust-moted and laced with fresh paint and faint trace of cinnamon from the last time christopher baked on his own. bags settle on counters. he's already shrugging out of his jacket, sleeves pushed up, expression expectant as he awaits instruction from buck. he leans against the counter as the other settles in, watching him for a beat — the lines of his back, the way he moves like he’s been here for years — and then moves in behind him, not to interrupt but just to be there, pressing a hand low against his spine as he reaches for a bowl. “ you really gonna try to outcook my tia pepa? ” he teases, words warm against buck’s shoulder. “ bold move. ”

“ Guess I better start cooking, then. ” Buck looks past Eddie to look at Chris, but quickly ends up looking at his boyfriend again. Might even convince me you're staying longer than a weekend. If only you knew. He thinks, busying himself with getting the shrimp ready for the tacos. He really hoped this meant what he thought it did — that a future for them could be in Texas no matter how much Buck wished they could all stay in LA. After Eddie left, he became more certain than ever that home was where the Diazes where. “ Wouldn't want to let you or him down. ”

I know I joke about him being called firehose in the show, but his dick is quite large in both length and girth. He’s very gentle with his partners during their first time together as a result.

His favorite positions are doggy and cowgirl, but if he’s with a long-time partner or someone he cares about a LOT he prefers missionary. He really likes looking at his partner if possible.

He can switch between being submissive and dominant, depending on what his partner wants.

He also switches between topping and bottoming.

He loves going down on his partner. He’s very good with his hands and his tongue.

He is a big cuddler after sex. As soon as he and his partner are done, he is holding them and snuggling up to them if they’ll let him.

His sex drive is quite high.

He’s not too adventurous on his own when it comes to kinks, but he is definitely willing to experiment with a sexual partner he trusts.

“ chris is at school, ” he sighs, voice hushed as if the walls listened. he clears his throat gingerly like it’ll clear fear out of it too. “ he’s got that science project due, remember? ” it's a useless detail, but it buys him a second. another breath. there's buck, wide open, the way he always is. like love isn't something terrifying. like it's not a trap laid in the blueprint of their bodies. i’ve chosen you since the minute i saw you, buck's disclosure clangs against his skull. and the thing is — he remembers. he recalls the first time he saw buck, he'd caught a glimpse of him before buck had laid eyes on him. how he'd been sunlit chaos and stupidly beautiful grins, and how something in him lurched in that instant. it wasn’t fate, not then. it couldn't have been. it was him. buck, as he was is. that’s what he wants to believe still matters.

“ Then have me. ” Buck says, taking another step closer to Eddie. “ Fuck fate, it doesn't matter. I would have chosen you regardless of this or not — ” He holds his arm up, motioning to the ink marked into his skin for as long as he can remember. “ I mean it, Eddie. ” He murmurs, tilting his head slightly, baby blues searching his face. “ Outside of our tattoos, outside of the way it hurts to be away from you, I want you. I want to be with you. ” The confession leaves his lips, and he feels a weight come from his shoulders. He feels like he should be terrified — but he isn't. In fact, Buck has never felt better.