“Buck.” A familiar voice, distant. Someone has a tight grip on his face, stabilising his head on his shoulders, and Buck thrashes, crying out when he jerks his ankle. “Shit.” Buck senses movement, and then the pressure of legs bracketing his waist, forcing him to still.
“Buck,” the voice says again, louder, and Buck opens his eyes. Eddie pats his cheek, staring down at him with a frown.
“Hey, hey,” Eddie soothes. “You’re safe. It’s just me.”
my piece for blood bank, @quiethauntings' entry in the buddie big bang. i cannot overstate how touching it is (and it was a treat to get to do art for it -- go read it!!!)
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eddie captaindiaz death gripping the arms of the chair he's sitting on as buck grinds down against him in his lap forcing himself to not move his legs up to meet him because buck asked to do it and hes not taking advantage if hes not moving right?
Eddie goes to Shannon, guilt-ridden and terrified, sits her down at the kitchen table and fumbles for long moments before he finally takes a deep breath and says: i‘m gay. And Shannon starts laughing, relieved, she thought something was seriously wrong, and she laughs and laughs and then goes: oh my god, me too! And then they both laugh like crazy for what feels like an eternity and then they hug and maybe they cry a little bit too, but it’s happy crying and they tell each other that they love each other. They go out to clubs together and are each others wingman and Shannon moves into a small house not far from Eddie and Christopher comes over whenever he feels like it. They don’t get a divorce for tax reasons until Shannon meets a nice girl and Eddie realizes he maybe has been in love with his best friend for a while. Then they have a “we just got divorced!“ party at Eddie‘s house with a heart cake that bleeds when you cut into it. Christopher Diaz has two dads and two moms and nobody ever gets hit by any car. The end.
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Buck’s pre-heat is a secret—one he’s desperately trying to hide during a fire rescue. But when they get trapped underground and Buck’s heat breaks, Eddie can’t help but step in, fiercely protective and more possessive than anyone expects. With scent and need overwhelming them both, nothing will be the same after this.
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Eddie wakes up from a nightmare, chest heaving, and makes a sleep-muddled decision to move from the couch into Buck's bed. Somewhere in the recesses of his brain he knows it's Buck's night to have the bedroom but his pulse is hammering in his neck and wrists and toes and even though he still feels half asleep he needs- he needs- comfort. So he creeps through the open bedroom door (bc Buck sleeps with it OPEN like a WEIRDO) and crawls mindlessly into the bed, planting himself over Buck's body, radiating warmth and coziness and love even in a deep sleep.
Eddie falls asleep and wakes up quickly. in contrast, Buck takes longer to fall asleep but once he's out, a tornado ripping through the house wouldn't wake him. And stay sleeping Buck does, as Eddie rubs his cheek against the soft cotton of the shirt Buck wore to bed, right over his tummy, flinging the covers back over them both, curling his arm over Buck's hips and bracketing Buck's right leg with his thighs. And just like that Eddie's out like a light.
When he wakes up, light is barely filtering through the curtains, and Buck's shirt has ridden up, enough that the hair on his stomach is tickling Eddie's cheek. He smells clean, like their laundry detergent and home. Once again, Eddie's body moves without thought- he smiles a little, rubs his face against the grain of hair, enjoying the shiver the sensation elicits in him. Warm soft skin, wrapped around a solid, strong body that once flung Eddie over one shoulder and into an ambulance. A body that saved his life.
Muscles tense minutely underneath him, and Eddie frowns, murmuring an unhappy noise. No. He's comfortable. He doesn't want to move. Nuh uh. He furrows his brow without opening his eyes, twists his neck just a little and bites gently down into a patch of skin beside Buck's bellybutton. A sweat-salty taste hits his tongue. Eddie hums.
"E-Eddie," Buck chokes out, "what are you-"
And that's when Eddie feels it, Buck's cock filling out his shorts, swelling where Eddie's chest is brushing against it.
He could stop. He probably should stop, Eddie thinks sleepily, but the thing is. The thing is.
eddie: buck, how could you possibly keep track of all this?
buck, carrying 4 books in his arms: what do you mean?
eddie: what i mean is, you already have 10 other books waiting for you at the house. are you not worried about losing track of them and paying late fees?
buck: actually, no. i have a way of keeping track of them.
eddie: no, don’t tell me you’ve been using a—
buck: no, not a clipboard. i’ve been using a spreadsheet!
eddie: oh?
buck: yeah, and i can keep track of when i’ve checked them out, if i’ve read them or not, and when they’re due back by!
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LET THE GIRLS BE IMPERFECT. let Annabeth be mean and snippy to Percy when she's stressed and can't regulate her tone. let Hazel get sick of Leo and Frank's bickering and tell them to get the fuck away from her before she makes them. let Piper demand too much of Jason because she's a nepo baby and forgets that she's not the centre of everybody's world. let them be messy and rude and impatient and hurtful like the boys get to be. let them have emotional arcs that are not simply about learning to treat their boyfriends better. let them have problems that aren't just extensions of the boys' problems. it is not a crime to make teenage girls do things wrong.
Hello! Would love to request 35 and/or 26 form the intimacy prompts if you are so moved!!!
Your writing is incredible, btw!!! 💖
intimacy prompts - play fighting + running your finger down their spine
“Do you think I'm making a mistake?”
“Mistake?”
”This.“ Buck waves a hand around them. “This place, this house. You don’t think I—”
The light in the kitchen flickers. Eddie winces. Buck sighs, tipping his head forward.
They’re sitting on the floor in the middle of the empty living room, trading slow sips from a half crushed water bottle. Eddie can feel his t-shirt sticking to his back despite the AC humming uselessly in the corner. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and fresh paint—evidence of their long day’s work.
The light flickers again. Buck lets out a quiet sound of defeat.
“Hang on.” Eddie braces a hand on the floor, ready to push himself up to stand. “Let me see if I can—”
“No, don’t.” Buck swats his arm gently. "I’ll, uh, I’ll check it again tomorrow,” he says. “But this is exactly what I’m saying. You don’t think I—I don’t know, rushed into this too quickly?”
Eddie shifts, the floorboards beneath him creaking.
Truth is, he does think Buck rushed into this. Hell, he didn’t even tell Eddie before signing the lease. But he gets it. It's not like Eddie’s been the master of communication lately. And it was a good deal, objectively speaking. Eddie didn’t really catch the details, just that the owners were desperate enough to overlook Buck’s disaster of a credit score and rent the place out for him for half its worth. The catch being that has to fix everything up himself.
And yeah, there’s still a hell of a lot to fix, but this is exactly the kind of place Eddie can see Buck making his own. It’s a little old, a little small, but it’s charming—big windows, nice hardwood floors. There’s even a small garden in the back he’s sure Buck will take care of, coax it into something alive and beautiful.
And if Eddie’s chest aches a little remembering the way Buck lit up when he first told him he’d found himself the perfect place—well. Some things you just have to carry quiet.
“Why do you think that?” he asks, realizing Buck is still waiting for an answer.
“Just something Maddie said.”
“Maddie said it’s a mistake?” Eddie frowns.
“Not in so many words but I think she thinks—I don’t know. It just feels like it’s what I’m supposed to do, you know? The next big step. Except now it’s starting to feel a little like—like one step forward two steps back with this place.”
Which, yeah, it’s exactly what fixing up an old, broken house feels like. Eddie could have told him that earlier, if Buck had bothered—
Doesn’t matter.
Eddie reaches for the water bottle and takes a long gulp, tries not to think about his lips being right where Buck’s were mere minutes ago.
“I think,” Eddie starts slowly, testing the words as he says them. “I think if this is what you want, it’ll be good for you.”
Buck is quiet for a few moments, eyes fixed on the wall in front of them, quite literally watching the paint dry.
”I don't know what I want,” he admits finally, voice small.
“You don’t?”
Buck exhales—something between a sigh and a humorless laugh. “No, that's a lie.” He flops back onto the floor, covering his eyes with his forearm. “I know what I want,” he says. “I just thought it would feel different, that it would be easier somehow, you know? But it’s just me, moving into another place that doesn’t feel—“
Doesn’t feel like home.
Eddie opens his mouth, but Buck speaks first.
“Living in your house felt easy.” He shifts his legs like he’s trying to get comfortable but can’t quite manage it.
Eddie’s eyes catch on a smudge of paint on Buck’s inner thigh—light green, right under the hem of his shorts. His fingers itch to scrub it clean, reveal that extra bit of skin. He takes another long sip of water instead.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“I mean not at first, but I think that was mostly about—“ Buck exhales, sharp through his nose. “About missing you guys.”
Buck curls in slightly, arms folding around his middle and something clicks. Buck doesn’t want this. Buck just doesn’t know he’s allowed to want anything else.
And Eddie—Eddie needs to tell him. Needs to say something.
He leans back on his elbows, close enough where he doesn’t need to speak too loud. “We really missed you too, you know,” he says, before lying all the way down next to Buck.
“You did?”
“Of course we did,” Eddie says, then adds, “I did.”
“I didn’t know that.“
Eddie breathes out a short laugh. “Jesus, Buck. Were the twenty FaceTimes a day not enough of a clue?”
“It’s not like we never FaceTimed before Texas.”
Eddie laughs again. “You know I hate to stroke your ego—“ (A lie. He absolutely loves stroking Buck’s ego.) “But I was kind of a mess. I was already a mess before, as you’re well aware, but I didn’t realize how hard it would be—not seeing you. And I should have told you that but—“
“Why didn’t you?” Buck asks, like it's that simple.
Eddie shrugs. “Could ask you the same thing.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“I—“ Buck pauses. “I don’t think I can tell you that.”
“I think you can. Think you can tell me anything,” Eddie says. And he means it. There isn’t a single thing in the world Buck could tell him that he wouldn’t want to hear.
Buck shifts a little closer, nudging Eddie’s arm. “How about you tell me something first?” There’s an unexpected challenge in his voice. It makes Eddie feel light, all of a sudden. Giddy almost.
“Okay, I—okay.” Eddie bites back a smile, mouth twisting as he searches of something to say. “Remember that time my car was at the garage and I had to carpool to work with you?”
“Of course I do. You should really find another mechanic, by the way. Changing a tail light should not take a full week.”
“It didn’t.”
Buck frowns, brows drawn together in confusion. “What?”
“They fixed it the next day. I just…kept delaying picking it up. I liked it. You driving me around.”
Buck looks at him like he’s trying to make sense of a puzzle that doesn’t add up.
“You’re lying,” he says, squinting a little. It’s cute.
“Am I?”
“Eddie. You realize that’s insane, right? You could have just asked me to drive you.”
“Hey, at least I let you pick the music,” Eddie grins, propping himself up to reach for the water bottle.
Buck reaches for it at the same time. Their hands collide and the bottle tips, water splashing across the floor.
“Oh, come on,” Buck laughs. “Look what you did.”
“What I did?” Eddie shoots back, brows lifting. “Pretty sure it was your grabby hands.”
“What, these?” Buck wiggles his fingers before lunging straight for Eddie’s ribs.
Eddie jerks, laughing. He tries to squirm away, but Buck is right there, jabbing at his sides. He catches Buck’s wrists and pushes him back. Buck tries to wiggle free but Eddie just holds on tighter. He rolls half on top of him and pins both his hands to his chest.
“Your turn,” he says, breathless and grinning.
“My turn?” Buck asks, watching the way Eddie’s fingers curl around his wrists.
“Yes. Tell me something.”
Buck shakes his head, laughing a little. “Oh, is that the game we’re playing now?”
“He’s finally catching up.” Eddie lets go and lies back down beside him, closer than before.
“Dick.” Buck punches him lightly on the shoulder. “Okay, let me think…”
Buck drums his fingers on his chest, deep in thought, and Eddie thinks this feels a lot like being a teenager—young and in love, lying in the back of his dad’s old pickup truck. Sweaty palms, racing heart, telling himself to just kiss her already.
He’s not so sixteen anymore. And instead of gazing up at the stars, they’re staring at a flaky, water-stained ceiling. But everything else hits just the same.
He glances over at Buck. “Thought of something yet?” he asks, voice softer now.
Buck nods. “I uh—“ He clears his throat. “I stole your laundry detergent.”
Eddie barks out a laugh, running his hands over his face. “You what?”
“I’m sorry, okay? We were packing your stuff and I—I panicked and I sort of…hid it.”
“You hid it,” Eddie repeats, delighted. “Was there… a reason for this?”
“Yes! No. I don’t know. I just—I like how it smells.” Buck has gone completely pink. “And I didn’t think you’d notice if I took it, which—you didn’t, by the way.”
“Uh huh.”
“I thought it would be nice, you know? If I could keep that smell around the house.”
“I guess that’s fair,” Eddie says.
“Yeah? You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Oh, it’s weird as hell, man.” Eddie shifts a little closer, presses his shoulder against Buck’s. “But who am I to judge?”
They’re both quiet for a moment, just breathing together.
“Hey, it’s your turn,” Buck says eventually. And if they weren’t lying so close together, maybe Eddie would have missed the way his voice cracks just the tiniest bit. But he doesn’t.
He takes a deep breath and starts talking. “Remember that day we made plans to go hiking but it was like—” He chuckles softly, “the universe had other plans?“ He shifts onto his side to face Buck.
Buck catches the movement, mirrors him.
“I thought you didn’t believe in The Universe,” he mocks.
Eddie rolls his eyes and continues. “We kept getting distracted and then it started raining and then Chris’s school called to tell me he was sick…”
Buck nods, smiling at the memory. “You went to pick him up and I went to get pizza.”
“You ended up spending the whole day on the couch with us. I think Chris forgot he wasn’t feeling well by the end of the night.” The kitchen light flickers again, but Eddie doesn’t look away. He’s too busy watching the blue of Buck’s eyes. “That was the first time I realized I wanted to kiss you.”
Buck draws in a sharp breath. “That was over a year ago.”
“I know.”
It’s terrifying. Too big. Life altering. But it’s also so, so incredibly easy.
“Do you still want to?”
“Kiss you?” Eddie chuckles, low and a little breathless. He can’t help the way his gaze flickers to Buck’s mouth. “Every day.”
“You should.”
“Yeah?” Eddie murmurs, voice dropping. Their knees knock together as he shifts closer.
It’s Buck who leans in first. The kiss starts slow, searching, soft lips moving together. Then Eddie groans into his mouth, and something shifts. His hand slips under the hem of Buck’s shirt, fingers spreading over warm skin. Buck pulls him in harder, lips parting like he’s starving for it. Like he’s been waiting too.
Eddie pushes even closer, knee wedged firmly between Buck’s thighs, their hips nearly flushed. He runs a hand down Buck’s spine, nails dragging just a little bit, making Buck shudder.
“I want to share my detergent with you,” Eddie mumbles between kisses.
Buck huffs out a laugh, dazed. “What?”
“Break your lease.” A kiss to Buck’s jaw. Another to the corner of his mouth. “Move your stuff back, come live with us.”
“Eddie, I can’t just—“
“You can.” Eddie cups the side of Buck’s face, forces him to meet his eyes. “Buck, you can. If you want.”
Buck looks at him for a long beat.
“I want.”
Eddie lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, presses their foreheads together.
