#buttercupwrites

Super late, sorry! Hope you enjoy.

“The ice cream lady said my dads are handsome.”

Chris’s voice drifts through the quiet of the house, greeting Eddie as he walks in the front door; then those words sink in, Chris said his dads.

It takes a moment for his brain to unstick from the loop of dads, dads, dads repeating in his head to place who and what Chris might be talking about and only one thought comes to mind; hot dogs and mini golf two nights ago with Buck, who declared winner had to buy ice cream for everyone.

He’s pretty sure Buck cheated somehow, got funny with the math because Eddie knows he putted a better game, but somehow Buck still ended up paying for ice cream.

It had been a fun night, one Chris obviously enjoyed too if he’s regaling Carla with the tale days later; he’s just rounding the corner into the kitchen, ready for his morning greeting, when Carla’s next words stop him in his tracks, “And what did you say to the lady?”

Ahhhhhh the softest ever! Thank you!

His eyes closed as gentle fingers swept his curls off his forehead.

He grumbles a little, turning away from the early morning sunlight streaming in through the blinds and burying his face in the chest beneath him.

Skin against skin, legs tangled together beneath the sheets, fingers tracing constellations across his back as lips press against his temple in a soft, chaste kiss; there is no better way to wake up, Buck thinks.

He snuggles in a little closer, hand sliding against the warm skin beneath his palm, until the light catches on the silver band on his finger, making it gleam.

His heart trips up in his chest for a moment before he tilts his head, chin resting on the chest below him as he meets soft brown eyes and a sleepy smile.

“Morning, hubby,” Buck murmurs, leaning up for a kiss, a trill of excitement zipping down his spine as Eddie murmurs it back against his lips; the first time for the rest of their lives, “Morning, hubby.”

Unexpected turn of events on this one ... Thanks for the prompt!

Eddie was running as soon as he heard the scream, racing to the backyard.

He left them alone for all of five minutes to clean up the rest of Christopher, and Buck’s, science experiment (note to self: he was never giving them Mentos and Cola ever again); how much trouble could they really have gotten into?

Answer: a lot; Eddie comes around the corner in time to watch Chris shriek again, attempting to duck behind the patio table and escape the shower of water Buck is raining down on him from the hose.

“Really you two, again,” Eddie calls from the door; caught, Buck pouts dramatically and drops the hose, much to Chris’s delight.

Eddie sees him move before Buck does, sneaking around the table just far enough to snag the hose and yank it to him; Buck has a moment to comprehend what’s about to happen as he turns wide eyes to Eddie.

“Oh no, you started this,” Eddie grins, sliding the door closed a second before Buck can reach it; not a moment too soon either as a jet stream of water crashes into the glass sending Buck running for cover.

Thanks for the prompt!

Eddie hated to admit it but he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Buck like this before.

This wasn’t just the normal, too many beers and shots of tequila, happy and a little sloppy kind of drunk he’s used to; no this was empty whiskey bottle next to his elbow, trying to fill a void that was only getting deeper, kind of drunk.

He’s out of his depth here, wading into murky waters just waiting for the bottom to fall out because Buck’s mask isn’t just cracking, showing signs of wear and abuse, it’s shattered on the ground at his feet; world turned upside, rug ripped out from under his feet, and here Buck is, trying to hold himself up against a bar top.

Blue eyes meet his and Eddie feels his breath skitter out of his lungs at the look he sees there. There’s no fury like he’d expected after Maddie’s stuttered, worried voice came through the phone; whatever had been there burned out long ago, turned sour into sorrow and twisted into despair until it left nothing behind in its wake but a vulnerable, haunted shell of a man. Evan.

“Come on,” Eddie murmurs quietly, slipping an arm around Buck’s waist and pulling him close; a port in the storm where Buck could always find shelter, “Let’s get you home.”

Send me the first sentence of a fic and I’ll write the next five!

Thanks for the prompt!

It always surprised him how small Buck could make himself.

It really shouldn’t shock him anymore to open the pantry door or the shower curtain or the accordion door to the laundry and find Buck sitting there, too tall frame tucked up into a ball.

This time it’s the closet in his bedroom where Buck is hiding, ankles cross, knees pressed up to his ears, arms wrapped tight around his legs and his head tucked low; he peeps his head up to grin at Eddie and shoo him away, “You’re gonna give me away, man.”

Which is all too comical because “You know he gave up and is playing video games right now, right Buck” Eddie asks, fighting hard to keep the smirk at bay.

Buck groans, loosening his grip and untucking his limbs until he’s all but sprawled out across the floor; then a mischievous glint comes to his eye and Eddie only has a second to register what that look means before Buck’s fingers are tangling in the hem of his shirt and pulling him down.

“Well, since he’s occupied, I know something else we can do in this closet,” Buck murmurs a moment before their lips meet, the closet door swinging closed behind them.

Didn't forget about you, I promise!

It's the thing he likes best, he's decided.

Leaning against the railing watching his crew coming in first thing in the morning gives him a unique perspective about the day.

Should he put a pot of dark roast on because Chim is dragging; make pancakes with the scrambled eggs because Eddie is rushing and definitely didn’t eat; keep Buck paired up even for chores because he’s a bit too in his head; shift Hen to second rig because she’s looking burnt out?

It’s more than that though, it's watching Chim snag Hen’s arm in the parking lot and start in on a story before they’ve even hit the doors; it’s watching the way Buck and Eddie bump shoulders continuously from their cars to the locker room, too wrapped up in their conversation and what’s on Eddie’s phone to notice anything else; it’s the way Buck will ruffle Chimney’s hair like an annoying little brother or Hen will crack a towel at an unsuspecting Eddie.

It’s his crew acting like a bunch of children before any of the heaviness of their jobs can settle over them; not just a bunch of kids, his kids.

Most Captains prefer to keep their crew at a distance, but Bobby prefers his this way, clutched as tightly to his chest as possible.

Thanks my dear *hugs* and thanks for the prompt! It's officially the first thing I've written in like a week. (I did change the tense though, sorry, I just naturally default to present tense lol)

As he sets his glass down, the world tilts sideways. Buck tries to right himself, pressing a hand flat against the table, blinking suddenly heavy eyes to try and clear the static at the edges of his vision, but it is useless; he is going down.

A hand on his shoulder steadies the world for a moment, a grounding weight that is so familiar as it squeezes reassuringly, thumb brushing against the side of his neck in a way that almost settles his world right side up again; almost, but not quite.

Almost because Eddie isn’t here pushing through another hellish twenty-four shift by his side, but miles away, across the city in a hospital bed, unable to breathe on his own; the world blurs in front of his eyes again.

“Buck, how long’s it been since you slept-” Bobby cuts himself off as he finally meets Buck’s eyes; the hand on his shoulder tightens and pulls until Buck is all but collapsing against the man’s chest.

Too tired to resist, Buck allows himself to fall into the safety net of Bobby’s embrace, fear and anxiety and anger and guilt pushing up and out of his chest as the first tears start to fall to his Captain’s quiet murmurs, “It’s gonna be okay, kid”.

Thanks for the prompt!

“He’s gonna be okay, Eddie.”

Buck murmurs quietly as he steps up behind his husband, fingers dragging lazily up and down his side as he tucks his chin over Eddie’s shoulder; for his part, Eddie just sighs and leans in a little closer.

Through the sliding glass door, they can see Chris picking idly at the grass with a frown on his face, the bow tie he insisted on wearing today discarded beside him.

Asking someone to his first middle school dance was a big deal, but Chris had been ready; hair gelled and styled with the help of Buck, brand new bow tie, and a swarm of origami butterflies because apparently Riley was a huge fan.

Even the best ideas don’t go according to plan, though; they’d sat in the car ready to hear the exciting tale of how Chris wooed the love of his 13 year old life, but instead learned how he’d been turned down, the sting of rejection still glistening in his eyes.

“His heart is broken now, but soon it won’t hurt as bad and he’ll move on,” Buck presses a kiss to Eddie’s temple as a reassurance, “And that first step starts with ice cream, come on,”; Buck pulls the door open and tugs Eddie with him, out into the yard to join their son.