Glory to the Spoons!

So.

eddie refuses to look hen in the eye. he tugs at the hem of his shirt. "what?"

he can hear the judgment in her voice when she goes: "running out of ideas, huh?"

"i don't know what you're talking about."

"was it ravi who told you to do this?" she crosses her arms, and when eddie finally finds the courage to look at her face she's raising an eyebrow at him. "i'd say chim, but if it were in his hands you wouldn't be the one spiraling. or, not the only one, anyway."

there's a deadpan quality in her voice that speaks to a story that eddie absolutely wants to hear, but he's pretty sure if he asks, she'll just bring the topic back to him. instead, he goes: "it's just a shirt, henrietta."

"call me that again and i'm cutting your sleeves off next." eddie shuts up. hen pauses. "huh. actually-- those corners are pretty clean. fabric scissors. that means..." goddammit. "may?"

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. eddie groans, tilting his head back. the movement stretches his top up again. he tugs the hem down. "she said i needed to be in my 'slut era'."

hen gives him approximately the same grimaced expression that he had given may when she'd said that, because there are certain things you simply do not want to hear from a girl that you've known since she was still in high school. "and you...listened?"

actually, eddie had informed her that he had already had his slut era, the result of which is currently spending obscene amounts of money on eddie's credit card and eating him out of house and home. and then he listened. because he's trying to live and learn and find joy, or whatever.

look, eddie doesn't need this judgement. eddie is going through a lot, okay? "it's my nuclear option."

he tugs at the hem again, and hen's eyes follow the movement. she hums skeptically, which is kind of rude. hen doesn't get it. hen is married to the love of her life, who's also a rocket scientist who would probably understand if she confessed her love in a totally normal if slightly vague way. lesbians were so judgemental, is this what ravi meant when she called one of hen and buck's spats wlw/mlm hostility?

"and you've tried everything else?" she asks, sounding like she already knows the answer.

"mmhmm!"

"including...telling him?"

eddie stares at her. "don't be ridiculous, why the hell would i do something like that?"

hen pinches the bridge of her nose, exhales like she's dealing with a particularly idiotic patient. eddie's eyes glance behind her, dart back. she's already looking at him. damn.

"how's that working out for you?" she asks. eddie resists the urge to put her in a small headlock.

"fine," he grits out. the hem of his shirt shifts distractingly on the skin of his torso as he moves. how the hell do people wear these regularly?

"uh huh," eddie wishes hen would just start laughing at him, it would be less humiliating than whatever the hell she's doing now. "and that's why you've been trailing buck like a puppy, conveniently placing yourself in his line of sight this entire afternoon?"

"...no." because if eddie were doing that, it would not be working. and eddie refuses to be that embarrassing.

hen rolls her eyes. "buck!" she shouts over her shoulder. eddie scrambles to shut her up, but she kicks him in the shin with the unerring accuracy of someone who revels in his humiliation specifically.

six-foot-five of bubbly best friend bounces over, gives hen and eddie a beaming smile. eddie scrambles back up, tugging his shirt back into place. it curls up slightly again. he resists the urge to fidget.

"yeah?" he says.

"isn't eddie's shirt cute?" hen asks, with zero mercy. eddie watches as buck's eyes drag down over eddie's body, feeling his entire body light up inch by inch. he notices buck's eyes freeze somewhere around his torso, and he tells himself that the heat that rushes through him is just the natural result of being outside in the LA heat.

buck opens his mouth. hen leans forward slightly, anticipatory. eddie's breathing catches in his lungs. the entire time, buck's eyes linger on eddie's rolled-up shirt hem, the sliver of his torso.

hiiiiiii sarah <333333 i don't have this fully plotted out or anything, but i had some ideas and a canva account and a dream, so i hope that you enjoy these lil snippets!

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[hey buck, i bet you thought I was still too mad to write this. i am still mad, but i think it's not fair that dad still gets to talk to you, so. i saw this and remembered how you used to send postcards to aunt maddie while you were still a little mad at her. i'm still a little mad at you, so i thought they fit.

have you ever been to el paso before? do you have a postcard from there?]

[hi chris!!!

buddy, you have no idea how happy I was to get your postcard in the mail. I love it!! I've never been to el paso, believe it or not. Maybe I passed it on the way somewhere, but I never stayed there. I wish I had! maybe I would’ve met the diazes earlier :)

I looked around for a postcard to send back to you, and this reminded me of the planetarium trip we had planned before you left.

how has it been in el paso? any cool zoos? I bet they’re not as cool as the ones here.

keep sending me postcards, if you find any fun ones! I’m thinking of starting a collection.

I miss you so much, bud. we both do.]