buckley-diaz enthusiast

“Nah, I’m perfectly happy here.”

Eddie cocks his head, tousled hair flopping against his forehead. “What’re you scared of losing to a four year old?”

Buck wrinkles his nose; that’s not going to work on him this time. That magnetic cocky attitude. He doesn’t notice himself placing down his drink, pre-preparing to stand. “I’d crush the both of you, don’t deny it.”

Eddie’s grin fails to mask his skepticism. His sarcastic tone doesn’t help either. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“You asked for it.” Buck hauls himself off the stoop. When Theo sees him joining the ‘fun,’ he races toward him, excitedly yammering about basketball probably. Buck is too focused on Eddie’s smug face to register. He ruffles Theo’s sweaty hair—bathtime is going to be a bitch tonight, he just knows. “We’re going to bring Eddie down a peg, okay?”

Theo clearly doesn’t understand what that means but he matches Buck’s serious enthusiasm anyways. “Yeah! We’ll crush Eddie!”

Buck turns his smile at Eddie. “That’s the spirit.”

It becomes a one-on-one game by the end. Theo quickly loses interest in the competition, electing to draw chalk caricatures of them or renaissance portraits, depending on how you look at it. The hoop is small enough that Buck can use his whole body to block all of it. Eddie can’t find an opening. The ball hits the pavement as he lunges only for Buck to foil his attempt. He can read Eddie like a well-loved book, spine creased and pages dog-earred.

Eddie darts backwards before they collide. “Don’t bust my ankle this time, Buckley,” he huffs.

“One time,” Buck mutters, but he knows he wouldn’t do something like that now. Not when Eddie’s attention is already locked on him, no distractions—besides the occasional check-in on the resident four year old.

The next time Eddie makes a break for it, Buck grabs him by the waist, wraps his arms around his body, not hugging really, just holding, in a wild, impulsive move to stop Eddie from catching an opening. Eddie’s momentum causes them to spin together before settling, basketball between them. Frozen, Eddie stares, motionless except for blinking and breathing. The beat of his heart pounds hard enough that it reaches to where Buck lays his hands flat on Eddie’s back. His chest brushes Buck’s own whenever he breathes out.

“That’s a dirty, illegal move,” Eddie eventually comments, voice rough from exertion. His body slides against Buck’s as he tosses the ball over Buck’s head. It swishes into the net, bouncing and rolling across the drive before resting on the lawn. “I win.” He smirks again, and then absently over his shoulder, he calls out, “Theo, we won!” His gaze stays forever trained on Buck.

Theo cheers but remains invested in turning the driveway into a Jackson Pollock painting.

“Theo was on my team,” Buck argues.

“He was secretly on my team. We made a pact before you joined.”

“Traitors. In my own house.” Buck sighs. “Chris would never do such a thing to me.”

With his hands now free, Eddie rests them on Buck’s arms. His fingers curl around his biceps, tapping inane beats against his bare skin. Eddie’s hands are warm and sweaty from the stupidly intense game of Buck’s least favorite sport. He doesn’t mind one bit.

Eddie laughs. “How can I make it up to you?”

Stay. Never leave. “Buy the good beer next time.”

“I do buy the good beer.”

“Then you have shi—stupid taste in beer, Eddie.” Buck shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised, with your stupid taste in sports after all. Which you corrupted Theo with; hate you for that a little, by the way.”

“You and Chris have your thing; me and Theo have ours.”

They do, don’t they? Like a true family unit. His stomach twists at the sudden thought. “I’m glad he has that with you,” Buck admits. After the immense hardship Theo has been through recently, Buck is happy to know Theo has more than just him, that he has Eddie and Chris, and the entire 118 if need be.

Eddie’s expression softens. “You’re doing great with him, you know. He’s adjusted well.”

Buck ducks his head, unsure. “I guess.”

Eddie grabs his face, refusing to let him hide, and he waits until Buck makes eye contact with him. “Hey,” Eddie coaxes, gentle and quiet, “You’re a wonderful foster parent. Don’t doubt yourself.”

Buck allows a soft smile to tug at his mouth. He doesn’t even register that he is still holding onto Eddie, not really. Eddie, for his part, hasn’t moved either. His grip seems to tighten the longer they stay linked together. He quirks his mouth; his lips part. 

“Are you two going to kiss?” Theo asks with all the naive innocence in the world, appearing before them as if summoned by magic.

Ripping himself away from Eddie, Buck almost stumbles backwards into the basketball hoop. His face burns, a white hot sear. What the hell. He needs to put a bell on that kid stat.