#demon!buck

The bartender from last night was in his bed, and was openly laughing at Eddie’s flustered panic, hiking up his sheets like he and Buck hadn’t already become explicitly familiar with one another’s body.

Buck, who was licking his lips. Eddie absolutely did not watch his tongue.

“Good morning!”

Objectively? Sure, it was a good morning. He woke up with a blowjob, of course that was a good morning, but his now flagging erection was at the absolute back of his mind.

“What are you—why do I—where... wait, are we back in my house?”

Eddie’s panic trailed off as he snapped his head around, taking in the familiar scenery. It was definitely his room, but... he couldn’t remember how they had gotten there. Actually, come to think of it, he couldn’t remember most of last night—there were bits and pieces, but nothing made sense, nothing clicked together—even as he very resolutely stared at Buck’s face, doing his best to ignore his very naked body.

He wasn’t sure if it hurt, having Buck laugh at his confusion, but it certainly didn’t fucking help anything, even as Buck reached down to help him stand back up. “I thought it would be more comfortable if you woke up in your own home, I know that the contract an be really taxing on your poor mortal body.” Buck said, without an ounce of sarcasm as he pulled Eddie upright.

Eddie pulled free from Buck’s grip once he was steady on his feet, immediately turning, trying to find a pair of shorts—briefs, pants, hell, at this point he would have settled for a swimsuit—finally pulling on a pair of boxers. “Okay, Buck, what the hell happened last night?” Eddie asked, vaguely aware that Buck was still naked as he followed Eddie into the kitchen, where—fuck, was that breakfast?

What the fuck was going on?

“Okay, you seriously need to sit down and take a few deep breaths. After you passed out last night, I brought you home.” Buck said, and Eddie groaned, hiding his head in his hands. “Look, we can get to how you knew where I lived and got in here in the first place later. What... what happened before that?”

Buck blinked, looking like the question was literally the last thing he expected, his surprise melting into a teasing smile as he bent over the counter. He reached forward with a hand, sliding a finger beneath Eddie’s chin, tilting Eddie’s chin up with a laugh. “Don’t tell me you forgot the best part of the night.”

Eddie felt his face burn under Buck’s gaze, shaking his head. “No, I—you—stop distracting me! I meant about after, what the hell was all... that?”

Buck’s teasing smile didn’t fade—if anything it only widened, and he winked at Eddie as he opened the oven door, the scent of cinnamon and maple filling the kitchen as he reached into the oven. “Eddie, for me, that was the best part of the night. We made a contract. You made it very clear to me what you wanted, I offered you my price, and you agreed. Cinnamon roll?”

For a moment, Eddie could only stare at the pan of rolls now sitting on his stovetop like they were the offending beings in whatever the fuck was going on, shoving himself away from the counter after a long moment. Buck sighed, plating one of the rolls for himself and sliding another over to where Eddie was sitting, taking a chunk out of his own as Eddie started to ramble.

“I’m dreaming.”

“Yeah, never heard that one before.”

“I am, Buck. I’m dreaming or maybe I was in an accident, or maybe—maybe you drugged me!” Eddie said, the hopeful tone of his own voice at complete odds with the offended look on Buck’s face. “First of all, that’s rude as hell, if you weren’t of sound mind then we never would have been able to seal the contract.” Buck started, leading Eddie back down to the barstool at the counter, pushing him to sit down, Eddie’s eyes unfortunately level with Buck’s very… muscular abdomen. “Second of all, will you please eat your breakfast? I realize that—“

“Oh god why are you still naked.”

Buck sighed, shaking his head as he took a few steps back. “Well, excuse me for thinking that you actually liked this form. You seemed to enjoy it plenty last night...” he grumbled, and Eddie felt another flush cross over his cheeks. “But if you’d prefer, I can change. I can be taller, or maybe shorter?” Buck asked, and Eddie felt his jaw drop as Buck’s body shifted seamlessly, gaining and then losing inches like his body was made of rubber.

“I can be a brunette, if you prefer? Or a redhead. Pale skinned, or dark? If it would be easier for you, I can also take the form of someone from your memories. There’s a few people from your firehouse you get along with, I—”

“Not with your dick out, you don’t!” Eddie sputtered as he closed his eyes, feeling dizzy as he kept up with Buck’s instantaneous transformations, well aware that the only thing that would make this morning less comfortable would be if Buck suddenly took up Bobby or Chim’s body.

“...Oh, how about this!” Buck said, voice suddenly lighter, and Eddie was hesitant to open his eyes. Where Buck once stood, there was a smaller, lithe frame, dark hair trailing over her shoulders, hands on her hips easily—if it weren’t for the necklace around her neck, resting against her chest, Eddie would have thought there was an entirely different person in the room.

But no, it was still Buck. Just... lady Buck. Still very, very naked.

“No, your—your original form is fine, just, can you put on some shorts or something?” Eddie finally griped out, and Buck sighed, body melting away into what Eddie was familiar with, soft curves disappearing into firm musculature.

“Trust me, Eddie, you would not like my original form, but fine. I’ll keep this. And fine, I’ll put something on.” he said, like it was physically paining him to do so, fabric weaving into existence around his legs. “Now will you please eat? Everyone knows that cinnamon rolls are only good while warm.”

Eddie’s legs felt weak as he finally looked down at the cinnamon roll on the plates before him, hand shaking ever so slightly as he tore a chunk from it, chewing it slowly. It was warm, and gooey, and delicious, and somehow that was it, that was the final straw that sent Eddie crashing into his own body, somehow more real than anything else he had seen that morning.

“This is real. What happened last night really happened.” he murmured to himself, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Buck, what... what happens next?”

Eddie couldn’t tell if Buck picked up on his voice wavering slightly as he spoke, or if Buck finally realized what Eddie was asking about, because his expression twisted from something supremely put out to a small smile, sliding his hand across the counter, letting it rest right beside Eddie’s—close enough to hold, though Eddie was supremely glad that he didn’t.

“Now, Eddie, I keep up my end of the deal. I will spend every moment, every ounce of my power—and that’s a lot of power—keeping Chris happy, and healthy, and safe. I can’t undo anything that’s been done,” he clarified, not that Eddie would have taken that risk even if it were an option, “but from here on out, no harm will fall to him. Of that, you have my word.”

Eddie struggled to look up to meet Buck’s face, but when he did, he found not a trace of lie, no suspicion, nothing that would have caused Eddie even the slightest doubt. He felt himself slump over the plate as he let out a breath, nodding his head, happy that at least that much weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

As he popped another piece of the roll into his mouth, Eddie’s voice was soft, chewing slowly. “So, what does that mean for me? My life is going to be a living hell now, but Chris will be safe and happy?” His eyes snapped up as Buck laughed again, shaking his head.

“Eddie, if I had any plan to make your life a living hell, would I really have woken you up by sucking your cock?”

Eddie almost choked.

“Anyway, no. You agreed to sell me your soul, which I collected last night. Besides, your kid loves you—making anything hard for you would not be cohesive with making life better for him. Turns out, keeping you happy and keeping Chris happy pretty much go hand in hand.”

Swallowing again, Eddie cleared his throat, turning on his stool as Buck finished off his own roll, sliding the dish of the rest of them into the fridge. “Wait, so... there’s no catch while I’m alive? I mean, after I’m dead, you’ll have my soul, sure, whatever, but there’s no other... requirements until then?”

Buck hummed as he popped his thumb into his mouth, sucking some icing off of his nail. Eddie was absolutely not watching.

“Well, even though you still have free will, and emotions, and all that shit, most people consider the loss of their soul as a pretty big deal, but I should have known you wouldn’t be normal about it.” Buck started, his voice strangely fond. “That aside, I have to stay close to you, as the contracted party, or to Chris, as the subject—let’s call it within shouting distance. I’ve already arranged to be at his school while he’s at school as a personal aid, so days are taken care of. Nights, I’ll hide away or whatever, I don’t care. I know he’s not going to be in any harms way while he’s with you.” Buck said with a shrug, either oblivious or ignoring the way that Eddie’s cheeks pinked up at the compliment.

“Other than that, nope. No other needs, no wants, just a mission to keep Chris safe and happy and healthy, like you said. And like I said, that could include making you happy...” Eddie tensed up as he heard Buck’s voice dip low, into a growl that had filled Eddie’s ears all last night. Buck’s hand came down onto his shoulder, turning Eddie around on the barstool, standing in front of him in all his glory. Eddie thought for sure—not hoping, but not necessarily dreading—that Buck would kiss him when he leaned in, but instead, Buck’s lips met his forehead in a small peck.

“...but only if you’ll let me.”

Just like that, Buck was gone, walking out of Eddie’s space easily, like he hadn’t turned Eddie’s entire world upside down in the course of 24 hours.

“Now hurry up and get dressed! We’ll pick up Chris from his sleepover, you can introduce us, and then you have to get to work.”

--

For what it was worth, Eddie thought that he was taking this—all of this—well. Very well, honestly.

“So, you’re a demon. Like, a prince of hell, thing that goes bump in the night, demon.”

“Demon, yes. Prince of Hell, absolutely not. As for bump in the night…”

“Never mind, god, forget I asked, you pervert.”

Sure, part of that might have been thanks to Buck, painfully willing to indulge every one of Buck’s encyclopedic questions, but Eddie still thought he deserved at least half of that credit.

“How long have you been in the demon business, anyway?”

“Just over ten years.”

“Wait, seriously? You’re not some ancient, mystic, all powerful—“

“Eddie, I’m literally a nineties kid, calm down.”

… Okay, maybe a little less than half the credit. Maybe closer to a third of the credit, but still. Credit.

“So, what do you do with my soul when you take it? Do you, like, eat it or whatever?”

“Are you—Eddie, no, that’s disgusting.”

To Buck’s credit, at least, he lasted a full week before he realized which of Eddie’s questions were serious, and which were utter bullshit.

“What? I’m curious!”

The weirdest part of all, by far, was how little Eddie’s life changed. He still went to work every day, he went out on calls, he came home to his kid.

And… Buck.

It was a little alarming how easily Buck fit himself in their regular routine. It was literally like Buck had been there all along, sliding into the shoes that Eddie had been trying to fill with specialists, staffers, and his Abuela—Abuela, who liked Buck more than she liked Eddie, once she learned that he was the reason she was off of permanent Chris-catching duties, and would be able to just enjoy the time she spent with her great grandson.

Buck had worn glasses when he met her, every ounce the good, state employed aid that would care for Chris in any way possible. Glasses. It wasn’t fair how cute that was.

The biggest downside—which was insane to think about, considering that he had technically sold his fucking soul, was the way that Buck looked at him. It was the way Buck looked when he ‘picked Chris up’ in the morning, in the way that his eyes followed Eddie whenever they were together, in the way that Buck would lean forward when Eddie would walk in the house after one of his shifts. He would lean in and smile, his voice would be low, and he would ask the same thing—every night, for nearly three weeks now.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Eddie?”

(Buck had called him Mister Diaz all of once, and Eddie almost swallowed his tongue—he put a quick stop to that.)

If that was the biggest downside, the biggest upside was, by far, how Chris and Buck got to interact with one another. Buck was basically a giant kid himself—he was young, Eddie had to continuously remind himself, likely Eddie’s age if not younger, and the way that he got along so easily with Chris… well, Eddie would be lying if he wasn’t a little jealous, to start. As selfish as it was to say, when Shannon had died, he was more worried about his son than anything else. Chris was soft, and he was smart, and he was sensitive—meaning, he was everything that Eddie wasn’t—and Eddie had to put in the time, double time, to make sure that he was giving Chris everything he possibly could. He did everything he could, and even then, he was still worried he was fucking things up half the time.

But Buck, Buck had swooped into Chris’ life and Chris had a new best friend in zero seconds flat.

Chris adored Buck, and honestly, if Buck was trying to hide the fact that the inverse was true, he was doing a shitty job of it. Any hesitancy that Eddie had initially (which was few to begin with) had been dispelled the moment that Buck had brought Chris to the station for lunch in that first, fateful week, happily chattering Eddie’s ear off about all the things he had learned at school thad day, and as a new bonus, how cool Buck was.

“Dad, Buck says that seahorses can have a thousand babies at once, did you know?” Chris asked, almost levitating with excitement.

“Really? That seems like a lot of babies.” Eddie said, looking up at Buck, who looked appropriately pleased with himself.

“He also says that its the dad seahorses that carry the babies until they’re born, and then they have all their babies!” Chris said, talking happily between bites of a peanut butter sandwich.

“Oh, does he now?”

Buck smiled innocently as Eddie rose a brow, his face flushing bright red at the look that Bosko was shooting him over Buck’s shoulder, very clearly looking between the three of them, turning on her heel before walking away.

Eddie loved Chris, and Chris had made Buck his best friend in the entire world—which is why it was easy one night, after Buck leaned in and asked Eddie, yet again, if there was anything else Buck could do for him…

“Stay for dinner.”

The look of pure surprise on Buck’s face? Honestly, Eddie would have sold his soul twice over.

“I… Eddie, you don’t have to—“

Eddie sighed as he rolled his eyes, calling over his shoulder. “Hey Chris, you think we should have Buck stay for dinner?”

Chris’ response was as quick as it was exuberant, echoing from the living room as he leaned over to peek around the corner. “Yeah!”

Eddie smiled as he shrugged a shoulder, looking back to Buck. “Seems like it would make him pretty happy. That was the thing, right? Happy, healthy, et cetera, now come on. I may be a shit cook—“

“Oooh, you said a bad word!”

“—but I’ve always been good at ordering out.”

--

“You know,” Eddie said, rinsing off a few plates as Chris diligently trudged himself down the hall to brush his teeth. “If I would have known that selling my soul would have been so beneficial, I would have done it forever ago.”

He was already smiling, but the scandalized look that Buck shot him only made him smile wider. “Eddie, don’t joke about that! It’s your soul, you’re not supposed to want to lose it. And for the record, I’m a very scary demon, so if you could at least pretend to regret selling me your literal mortal soul I’d appreciate it, you ass.”

Eddie had to turn his head to hide his smile as he shook his head. “I dunno, Buck. I’ve wound up with help for my kid, an immortal safety net, and I’m back in Abuela’s good graces, and all for the low low price of one soul. You still got the better end of the deal, though, you get to spend all day with Chris. That’s literally the dream.”

Eddie rose his brow as Buck snorted, shaking his head, idly scooping some lo mein into a Tupperware. “Eddie, if I knew just how hard it would be to keep Chris safe—you know I had to redirect a whole tsunami when you took him to the pier on your day off last week?” Buck asked, his smile a little smug, obviously proud of himself despite his complaint.

“Wait, what do you—there was a tsunami? What happened?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I had it wipe out some assholes private island further south along the coast. He had insurance, the island broke up the wave, and some lucky surfers caught some gnarly waves, it’s fine.” Buck said, popping a piece of chicken into his mouth as Eddie stared at him, mouth literally hanging open. “…you honestly think I’m supposed to regret my decision after hearing that? Fuck, walking into your bar was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“Eddie…” Buck groaned, shaking his head as he threw a dish towel at Eddie’s head. “What? I’m serious, you’re like a… Buck?”

Eddie’s smile fell a bit as he looked over to Buck, hand still extended in his throw, his eyes wide and glassy, the bright blue of his irises pulsing in the light of the kitchen.

“Buck?”

“Eddie, are you expecting company?” Buck’s voice was low, staring through what Eddie realized were the walls between the kitchen and the front door, a half second before there was a loud knock, echoing through the now emptied living room.

Eddie frowned as he walked to the front door, Buck’s voice guiding him (“two people, a man and a woman, no weapons—“ “Buck, stay in the kitchen.”) as he looked through the peephole, his heart sinking into his stomach as he opened the door.

Eddie had spent every one of those ten minutes clenching his teeth so hard he thought he would pop a crown, but ultimately agreed to their request (maybe a little quicker than he would have liked, but he had done less for more when it came to making sure Chris stayed in bed). As bad as that was, though, he wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that he was so hesitant to spend some time with his parents, or the fact that the moment they left, all he felt was guilt.

He knew that he wasn’t the crazy one here; but even then, it was hard to ignore how it sounded, feeling so unhappy—so hesitant—to spend time with his own parents. He knew exactly how it looked for him, because what kind of son was chomping at the bit to rip his own parents head off, just for wanting to spend some time with their family?

It should have been a perfectly reasonable request. It should have been something Eddie was happy to do. It should not have been something that set Eddie’s teeth on edge, that tripped up his sixth sense like no other, the soldier's sense that he had developed in Afghanistan buzzing in the base of his skull like a beehive. It felt like something was about to go incredibly wrong, and it felt fucking disgusting to have that reaction triggered by his own parents, but he couldn’t deny that he was afraid history would repeat itself.

Maybe he really was a garbage person.

The guilt only got worse, surprise surprise, after they left and Eddie discovered Buck standing in the kitchen, where Eddie had told him to stay. He had all but forgotten about Buck. How could he forget an entire person?

Garbage person, strike two.

Eddie wound himself in his blanket even tighter, guilt and shame doing little to motivate him on getting out of bed, but his silence was short lived as his blanket burst into flames just long enough for him to yelp and bolt upright before it completely disintegrated. “You—that’s not—you cheater!”

Buck just laughed, the bastard, idly examining the nails on one hand as he shoved Eddie out of bed with the other. “I’m a demon, you dolt. Of course I cheated. Now,” he started, pushing Eddie upright and all but herding him toward the closet, “why don’t you get dressed and tell me what’s really going on?”

Eddie felt a lump sink into his stomach as he stood up, a harsh breath coming out of his nose as he yanked a pair of pants off of a hanger.

“I’m scared, Buck.”

Either out of shock or respect, Buck remained silent, and Eddie could only spare a glance over his shoulder before he ducked his head, dressing haphazardly. “The last time I saw my parents they tried to... to take him. They were trying to take him from me, and my response was to literally pack Chris up and move across the country. They didn’t reach out for years—it’s been years, Buck—not when Abuela broke her hip, not when Chris changed schools, not when Shannon died. A year goes by, and nothing. And then they send a card, and then I meet you, and now they’re just... here again. And I think they’re going to try again, I think they’re going to—“

Eddie looked down at his hands as he felt the fabric of the shirt he was holding tear beneath his fingertips, staring at the hole, like he couldn’t believe he had just worried a hole through it. He looked up to Buck, guilt and misery written on his face as he tossed the garment aside, hiding his face in his hands as he rubbed at his eyes, dragging his hands down his face shortly after.

“You are going to lunch and I’ll be nearby, but Eddie, listen.” Eddie didn’t realize he was spiraling until Buck stepped forward, grabbing his hands and giving a firm squeeze as he shook his head. When Eddie looked up again, all he could see was Buck—eyes glowing, mouth set, teeth maybe just a little sharper than they were a moment before. “I will never, ever let them—or anyone else—take him from you. Ever.”

--

“…and Mark says that Washington has one of the biggest volcanoes, but I don’t think that’s true. Ms. Flores and Mr. Beeman says that Mars has volcanoes too, even bigger than any of the ones we have here on Earth!”

“I’m sure it does, buddy. Maybe that’s why it’s the red planet? All the magma?”

“No, Dad, the magma is underground, when the volcano erupts it turns into—hey!” Eddie had a smile on his face as he reached over to steal one of Chris’ fries, grinning as his kid squawked, pushing his dads’ hand away playfully. Their afternoon together had started easy enough; Chris had stolen the show easily, directing the conversation through himself in that effortless way kids managed to do, talking about his school, his friends, his day to day. To this day, Eddie would never understand how this kid had him wrapped around his finger so easily—all it took was the bat of an eye for Eddie to swing through the drive through on the way to the park, and suddenly he was meeting his parents at a picnic table near the playground with arms full of chicken tenders and fries.

Not a great look. Whatever.

Chris had been every bit as ecstatic to see his grandparents as Eddie knew (feared?) he would be, propelling himself forward at a speed that would have made Eddie panic had Buck not spent some significant time over the past few months working on Chris’ physical therapy.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse, how easily it was to use his son as a distraction from whatever nightmarish scenario his parents wanted to bring up, but even that grateful moment was cut short as his father chuckled, reaching forward to tousle Chris’ hair playfully.

“Mark, Flores, Beeman, I can’t even keep up anymore kiddo. Sounds like you’ve had a busy third grade in your new scho—“

“Fourth grade, dad.”

“What?”

“Fourth grade, Dad. Chris is in fourth grade.”

Eddie regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. As good as it felt to even attempt to put his father in his place, he could feel the exact moment that both of his parents swiveled their laser-like attention to him. They were smiling, sure, but Eddie felt like he was back to being a kid again, waiting for the inevitable slip up that would get him grounded.

“Fourth grade, right.” Eddie smiled tensely as his father nodded, gesturing between he and his son. “Of course, we would know that if you bothered to call once in a while. We don’t hear from you on Christmas, birthdays, nothing.

“You know, you can always call us too, not send some letter on the anniversary of my wife’s death like a complete—”

“If we didn’t hear from Pepa regularly, how would we know that you and Chris were even alive?”

“Dad—“

“But we’re doing good.”

Eddie felt his jaw click shut as Chris spoke, his heart swelling with pride as both of his parents turned their gaze again. His mother at least had the decency to look mildly guilty—his father, no such luck.

“Of course you are, kiddo. We’re just trying to make sure that your dad has enough help. There’s been a lot of big changes since you both left Texas—two new schools, new grades, new teachers, your father’s new job, and—“

The death of Chris’ mother, Eddie’s mind provided, angry once again that Shannon was being so disregarded by people who were supposed to be her family.

“Yeah, but we’re still doing good.” Chris said, not looking up from the fries he was dunking into ketchup, smearing only a little bit on his upper lip as he shoved the handful into his mouth. “Dad says that sometimes the hard things make us stronger, but things aren’t even that hard. And Buck says that I have a lot of, um. Initiative! And they both say I’m perfect, so that’s good.”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. He didn’t freeze as his parents turned back over to him, and he certainly didn’t feel his heart sink into his stomach. He just… was trying to un-swallow his tongue, was all. Buck had been the one topic that they had somehow danced around, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he should have been thankful or not that Chris ripped that bandaid off.

He was afraid, to be honest, of that particular aspect of their new lives coming to light—there were few wounds that Eddie’s parents loved rubbing salt in more than his parenting and his financial situation, and suggesting that he had private help for Chris? That was certainly something that hit both of their favorite topics.

“Buck?”

Even if, you know, he had sold his soul instead of provided a monthly stipend.

“Who is Buck?”

“Buck’s great!” Eddie felt himself finally breathe as Chris picked up the slack, his cheerful demeanor impervious to the doom and gloom swarming around both of his grandparents right now. “He’s really smart, and he’s super nice. Plus he makes Dad laugh, which is also nice. And he taught me how to make cootie-catchers! Did you know that they can see into the future?”

Eddie wasn’t panicking. He definitely wasn’t panicking. He definitely wasn’t looking between his mother and his father, trying desperately to come up with something, some excuse, some way to explain the strange name that called Chris perfect and made him laugh.

...Buck really did know how to make him laugh, though. And he did love Chris, that much was clear. And those two thoughts were the only things buzzing around in his head when he opened his fat mouth.

“Edmundo, who is—“

“Buck is my boyfriend.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the moment afterward—his father turned a lovely complexion of purple and red while his mother looked like she had literally seen a ghost, which, hey! Not that far off from the truth. Eddie wasn’t sure if he was just in shock, or if he was having a stroke, or what, but he suddenly felt heavy, grounded for the first time all day, firmly planted in the moment.

So, Eddie decided that Buck was, as of ten seconds ago, his boyfriend. It… made sense, in a way. Fuck, they were basically co-parenting his kid. Chris absolutely adored Buck. And Eddie knew they were sexually and romantically compatible, hell, he knew Buck intimately from his teeth right down to—

“Buck is your what—”

“Buck!”

Eddie was getting very, very tired of being caught by surprise, so it was actually exhausting to have yet another rug pulled out from under him. He turned his head as Chris called out and almost fell out of his seat, seeing who else but the demon in question striding toward them, smiling like the sun,

Honestly, at this point, Eddie should have expected yet another whiplash, but nothing could have prepared him to turn around and see Buck, striding toward him with a big smile on his face, wearing what Eddie could only describe as a “meet the parents” outfit.

If there was another reason as to why Buck would be wearing a sweater vest in California, Eddie would love to hear it.

At the very least, he wasn’t the only one who was shocked. His parents had similar slack jawed looks on their faces as Chris raced toward Buck, who easily wrapped Chris in a huge hug with a “Hey, Superman!” before setting Chris on his hip easily.

Eddie didn’t realize that he was up until he was already moving, trying to think of how he could explain this, but Buck was quick on the draw—keeping Chris balanced in one arm, he drew Eddie in easily with the other, kissing his cheek, murmuring against his skin easily.

“Thought you could use some backup from your boyfriend.”

...oh, right. Demon. Probably heard the whole thing. Cool, that was definitely a cool thing and not embarrassing at all. Eddie felt his own hand fall into Buck’s as they started to walk back toward his parents, a weight writhing in his stomach, only partially subdued by the warmth burning pleasantly through his bones from the small contact he shared with Buck, looking over as Buck set Chris back down, grinning at the giggling ten year old like he wanted nothing more out of this life.

“Mom, Dad, this is Buck. Buck, these are my parents.” Eddie was half tempted to let the moment stew in a silent awkwardness before starting introductions, but Buck spoke up before he could do anything, extending his now-free hand to Eddie’s father first. “Evan Buckley, Eddie’s told me a lot about you. Glad to meet you both.”

Huh. Eddie never thought to even ask if Buck had a first and last name. He always thought it was just, ‘Buck’.

It was comforting for him to see the good, Catholic guilt push both of his parents to accept the greeting with an incredibly pained smile and a handshake of their own, as much as he knew they both wanted to pretend he wasn’t there.

“So! Evan.” His mother started, always the diplomat. “What do you do?”

--

“I’ve known I was bisexual from, like, sophomore year. I brought boyfriends home in highschool! Why is this so hard for you to wrap your head around?”

Long since abandoning the idea of civility, Eddie’s voice was tired, watching as Buck pushed Chris on the swingset across the park from their little picnic bench. Chris had all but dragged Buck over there, subconsciously (or maybe consciously, though Eddie hated thinking of that) feeling when Eddie needed some time to yell at his parents.

Which he definitely, definitely wanted to do. Because Buck was a fucking delight, he answered every question perfectly, he complimented, he flattered, he smiled, and his parents had given him absolutely nothing back.

Now, he was actually finding himself… jealous. Because he would have sold his fucking left leg to just be over there, with his kid and his… Buck, instead of here, with the firing squad. Watching the two of them together was nice, though, definitely a memory he would treasure later—right now, it was providing just enough serotonin to keep him from jumping off a bridge.

“Because you’re not like that, not really!” His mother’s voice was pleading where his fathers had been firm, but Eddie couldn’t really tell the difference between the two when they were both parroting each other. “Eddito, you can’t expect us to believe this is just... happening now. In highschool, that was one thing. I am your mother, we are your parents. No one knows you better than we do!”

Eddie threw his hands into the air, turning it into a wave at the last moment when Chris looked over, trying to keep his face relatively neutral. “Mom, you don’t know the first thing about me, apparently, but I’m starting to think that might go both ways. Maybe I don’t know the two of you, either. For starters, I had no idea my parents were so fucking mean.”

The innocent look his father shot back at him made him want to puke. “Eddie, I can’t help it if pointing out the truth seems a little mean to you. That woman leaves you—”

“That woman was my wife, and she died, next topic.”

“—leaves you,” his father repeated, ignoring what Eddie had said yet again, “and now I’m supposed to believe that you, what. Decided that instead of finding someone who could give Chris what he needs, you just looked for the first man waving a rainbow flag and that was that?”

“Dad, I swear to God, if you insult Buck again we’re done for the day.”

If Eddie was surprised by his own assertiveness, he was alone in that—his father wasted no time in scoffing, shaking his head.

“I have every right to criticize someone spending that much time with my grandson, Edmundo. When was the last time you and Chris went to service? Because if it got around that you were hanging around with someone like that—"

Honestly, there was a certain level of irony here that Eddie had to appreciate. His conservative, religious parents didn’t like his boyfriend (and, wait, how had Eddie attached Buck to that word so easily?)—not because he was a literal demon from Hell, which would have been a perfectly reasonable thing for two good, God fearing Christians to dislike, but because he was a man.

“Hey, Chris, we gotta get going! Come say bye, buddie!”

All that aside, the stunned silence that followed as his father struggled to find his voice was sweet, so sweet, even if it was incredibly short lived.

“Really, Eddie? One little disagreement and you’re just going to walk away? We don’t see Chris for two years, and the first time we visit is when you decide to—”

“Chris is going to come over and say goodbye.” Eddie interrupted, voice dangerously low as he looked up to where Buck was helping him down from the jungle gym. “If you try and play him against me with this, you will lose. If you try to play him against Buck, you will lose and I will laugh at you. But we are going home now, and if you give him any grief about that, if you try to make him feel bad that you don’t come up to visit more often, if you do anything that puts a frown on his face, that’s it. You will never see him again. Ever. And I’ve already kept one promise to you once in the past five minutes, you wanna push for two?”

Eddie wasn’t sure if he was burning that bridge or crossing it, but he was all smiles when Buck and Chris rejoined them, easily slotting himself against Buck’s side as his mother and father each hugged and kissed Chris’ head. Eddie may have let his eagle eye slide a little bit—he could tell my Chris’ giggling protests that they weren’t saying anything uncouth, and even if they were, he knew Buck would put a stop to it before anything else.

Waiting until his mother released Chris, Eddie leaned and kissed Buck on the cheek, tilting his head back to the truck. “Chris, you wanna go with Buck and get buckled in? I’m gonna walk your grandparents to their car.”

Chris took off happily with Buck in tow, and Eddie allowed himself a moment to feel all warm inside watching Buck take Chris’ hand happily as they walked away before he had to turn and face his parents once more. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not that his mother was first to speak, pleading with him while his father unlocked and started their car. “You don’t need to be so sneaky to talk to us, Eddito. You know your father and I just worry.”

“If you want to talk sneaky, let’s talk about your spontaneous road trip to Los Angeles. Have you talked to Abuela? Or Pepa? Because Buck’s met them both, and they both love him. Have you even thought about visiting with them while you’re out here?” Eddie asked, the look on her face answer enough. Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he turned to his father, waiting to see what kind of explanation he would try and bury this in. “You dragged Mom a thousand miles just to interrogate me but you won’t even see the rest of the family?”

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as his mother shut the door to the passengers seat of the car, and Eddie found himself wishing he could just tune this entire topic out as easily as she seemed to when his father met this gaze again.

“I am just trying to get you to do what is right for Chris.”

“That’s just it! I am what’s best for Chris, and I don’t understand why you can’t accept that. He’s my kid, mine, and if you can’t trust me to do what’s best for him,” Eddie paused, “then I don’t know what I can do to get that across.”

He shook his head as he started to walk back to his car. He had really, really hoped that would be the end of it, but he was well aware that would require luck, which he did not have, his father's voice calling after him making that painfully clear.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Eddie. When your little… mistake comes crashing down, we will be the only ones here for Chris! You can’t just turn your back on family!” Eddie felt his hackles rise as he walked away, ears ringing as he dug his heel into the dirt and looked over his shoulder.

“You turned your back on us—on me—a long time ago.” Eddie’s voice was low as he opened his door, slumping into the driver seat like a string had been cut, hands shaking as he started the truck.

--

“What was your family like?”

Eddie’s voice was soft from his place against Buck’s side, tucked up under one of Buck’s arms, the warmth from the demon eliminating any need for a blanket.

Eddie had made it exactly three blocks (just long enough to be out of view of his parents) before Buck had demanded he pull the car over so they could switch. He was more than happy to give up any responsibility, sliding into the back seat beside his kid, letting himself be completely engrossed in whatever Chris was listening to for the rest of the ride home.

Buck had been the one who drove them home, made dinner, entertained Chris while Eddie showered. Buck was the one who helped with everything along the way just like he always did. And now Buck was literally, literally anchoring him into reality, a comforting weight along Eddie’s side.

He couldn’t tell what Marvel movie was on—honestly, he had kind of stopped caring about any of them after Black Panther—but they were still Chris’ favorite, and he was sure that Chris would have been livid at them for talking if he hadn’t fallen asleep in the first five minutes of the movie. He wanted to save the moment like a snapshot forever; Chris’ head against Buck’s thigh, sprawled out over the both of their laps, his soft snores doing little to mask Eddie’s question (or Buck’s snort in return). “Eddie, my parents were like... completely crazy. Yours are getting up there, but mine were insane. My mom...” Buck shut his mouth as Chris shifted, waiting until he was settled to resume.

“My mom is the reason I got into this position in the first place.”

Eddie felt his face fall as Buck spoke, repositioning himself to sit up a little straighter beside Buck, eyes trained to the demons’ face. Buck was smiling, a sense of bitter irony on his face as he pushed some hair from Chris’ forehead. “When my dad died, my mom... didn’t take it well. She kind of fell off the deep end. Maddie was lucky, she got out before the shit hit the fan. Anyway, my mom and I tried everything—therapy, grief counseling, the power of prayer—seriously.” Buck said, a smile on his face as Eddie laughed, shoulders shaking.

“You’re such an ass.” Buck said, but he was smiling as well, shaking his head. “Anyway, when that didn’t work, my mom tried the other route. She was, like, off the deep end at that point. Talismans, ouija boards, drugging herself up to talk to the dead. I probably should have turned around when I came home to find a pentagram painted on the floor, but.”

Buck shrugged like this was the easiest thing in the world to announce, but Eddie had long since stopped laughing, his jaw a little slack. “Oh, Buck...” He hated how weak his voice sounded, but Buck brushed it off, continuing on.

“No big deal. She sucked at Latin, turns out. I got these devilishly good looks, and she got torn apart by hellfire.” Eddie choked on a laugh as Buck beamed at him, because of course he would be making a pun at a time like this. He stifled the rest of his laugh as Buck squeezed him a little tighter, shaking his head as Chris let out another little snore.

It was easy enough to maneuver Chris into his arms, carrying him to his bedroom, though he certainly wasn’t about to object to Buck’s abject closeness, less than a half step behind Eddie as he put Chris to bed. It wasn’t until he stood to leave did he actually see the look on Buck’s face as he tousled Chris’ hair and said goodnight; it was incredibly soft, dopey even, and the only reason Eddie could make that comparison is because Hen had told him plenty of times that was the same way he looked at Chris.

He just never thought he would see that look on someone else.

Eddie kept his voice low as he closed Chris’ door, starting the walk back to his own room slowly, swaying easily in step beside Buck as he scratched at his head. “Do you remember, when we met, you told me—“

“How incredibly hot you were, how good you were with your tongue, how—“

“Jesus, Buck, no, you fucking pervert. I was going to say, you told me that I wasn’t being normal about this.” Eddie said, and Buck hummed, his hand idly reaching out toward Eddie’s. “What are most of your contracts like?”

Buck snorted as he tugged Eddie into the bedroom, turning off the television, the lights, even locking the front door with a wave of his hand. “I’ve never fucked another contract, if that’s what you’re asking.” he started, pulling the sheets down with another wave and a laugh as Eddie threw his shirt at Buck’s head. “God, Eddie, they’re fucking assholes. Everyone’s power hungry, or money hungry, or just stupid as fuck, seriously. In like, a whole decade, I’ve never had anyone make a contract for someone else before. But you…”

Eddie looked up as Buck pulled him closer again, planting a kiss on his lips. Part of Eddie wanted to shy away, wanted to say the boyfriend thing had all but been an act, but he had given up on that about thirty seconds after Buck told his father to fuck off.

“Even when you were drunk, you only cared about what was best for your son. That’s why it was so easy for me to make a contract with you. Seeing how good of a person you were, how much you loved your kid? No question.”

Buck’s voice had dropped down low as he sunk into the bed, making grabby hands at Eddie until he followed suit, finding himself fitting perfectly in the crook of Buck’s shoulder, resolutely not thinking about the flat plain of muscle beneath his hand as he wrapped an arm around Buck’s midsection. Eddie felt his eyes wander across Buck’s face, his lips, the smooth line of his neck to the little gem on his necklace. “You really think I’m a good father?”

“Eddie, come on.”

When he looked back up at Buck’s face, Eddie felt a spark burn through his spine, meeting Buck’s glowing eyes for the third time in three months and the second time that day. Eddie wasn’t sure who moved (okay, he was definitely the one who had moved) but the kiss was soft, a barely there brush of lips, a pressure that set Eddie’s lips on fire.

———————————————————————————————————

For the record, Eddie Diaz really and truly thought that he was going to have a good day when he woke up.

He had actually slept that night, which was a great start.

He finished his morning run in time to have breakfast with Chris and Carla, which was embarrassingly infrequent.

He was still smiling, humming some song from one of Chris’ shows under his breath, when he went to check the mail that morning, and that was when everything went to shit.

The simple “Condolences” card would have basically gone unnoticed in the stack of bills and junkmail, had it not been for the Texas zip code on the envelope. He thumbs the edge of the card, a frown across his face as he racks his brain—had anyone died recently? He didn’t think so, hadn’t heard from his aunt or his abuela, they hadn’t had any life or limb threatening calls in almost a month and a half.

He opened the card slowly, eyes scanning over the block of text written on the left side of the card, his heart instantly kicking overdrive as he picked out a few words.

The card was for Shannon.

Shannon, who his parents were not exactly on the best of terms with. Shannon, who had responded to Eddie leaving in turn, who had divorced him less than twenty four hours before her death.

Shannon who had been dead for a year, almost to the day.

He almost, almost couldn’t believe it, that his mother and father would be the kind of people who send death-anniversary-condolence cards, but those thoughts were stuck swirling around in his own guilt. Shannon had died a year ago and Eddie hadn’t even realized it. Sure, they had a tumultuous relationship at best, and he still missed her—especially missed her with Chris—but it still felt gross, realizing that he had spaced out what he felt should have been such an important milestone.

He only barely scanned over the words “Chris” and “with us” and “for the best” before he slammed the card against his chest, his eyes wide and wild, only a second away from going full fight-or-flight because of a fucking greeting card. He didn’t want to believe that he was still going to be fighting against this, that he had to continue to fight against his parents for his son. They were doing better. He was doing better. And for anyone to suggest, twelve months after the fact, that Shannon’s death would have been a decent reason for Eddie to give up custody...

Between calling out of work last minute and having to be reminded twice to kiss Chris goodbye when Carla brought him to school, Eddie knew that he wasn’t exactly the image of stability at this point—but he was pretty sure that could all be forgiven, considering his circumstances.

Blindsided by an event that happened a year ago: check.

Still only barely making ends meet and paying for his son’s needs: check.

Regularly feeling like an absolute failure in a personal, professional, and fatherly sense: fucking triple check.

Eddie’s only saving grace was that Chris had already planned on spending the night with Hen and Karen and Denny that evening, so Eddie could do the one thing he did best.

Better than anyone else. Better than anyone, ever.

Finding a random bar to get absolutely plastered in.

--

“It’s just, when I thought they couldn’t sink any fucking lower, they do. They act like she was no one when she was alive, and now that she’s dead I’m supposed to just hate her alongside them because they hate her cause she divorced me, but spoiler alert! She died anyway!” Eddie was saying, his face resting cheek down on the bar, the straight whiskey he had been sipping swirling around in its glass, the amber liquid refracting light over his face. He was alone in the bar, had been for two hours at least—his words might have been the slightest bit slurred, but the bartender seemed to be ever understanding, nodding his head as he wiped down the spot next to Eddie, what seemed to be the last of his closing duties.

His bartender, who was rapidly going up in Eddie’s opinion—not just because of his impeccable pours, and the fact that he was pretty cute (and yes, that was Eddie’s unbiased opinion), but because he was listening. He was actually listening as Eddie rambled on, more than just that passive grunt-and-nod that so many bartenders thought passed for actually paying attention to their clientele.

“You know,” Bartender started, tapping his fingers on the bar, a steady rhythm that pulsed through Eddie’s cheek in a semi-comforting manner. “It’s okay that you didn’t hate her. Even after the divorce. Just because two people divorce, doesn’t mean they don’t love one another, just that... that they’re better apart than they are together.”

Oooh. That was a good point. It was wrong, but it was still a good point. Eddie rose his hand to counter balance himself, pushing into an upright position so he could take another swallow from the glass in front of him. “I didn’t love her, not at the end, but...” Eddie started, sipping and swallowing. “I loved what she was.”

The bartender leaned forward, raising a brow, and Eddie felt his eyes naturally drift from the small green gem that was hanging off of the chain around his neck to the beauty mark, dancing above his browbone, scrunched up as he scrutinized Eddie that much further. “And what was she?”

“A partner.” Eddie said easily, catching the surprise on the other's face. “She was my partner, even though I was a shitty one. And she was a friend, even though I was a shitty one. And she was such a good parent, and I’m—“

“I swear, if you say you’re a shitty parent I’m going to clock you with this bottle.”

Eddie laughed in spite of himself, his eyes trailing back down, somewhere around the bartender’s chest—Buck, his name tag said. Eddie was pretty sure he had been told that already. “Seriously, man, I’ve heard you talk more kindly about your kid from the time you were half a drink in than most people do when they’re sober.”

Eddie sighed, knocking the rest of his drink back, sliding the glass back to Buck. “Well, isn’t that how dads are supposed to be? Willing to take bubb—bulb—bullets for their kid?”

Buck snorted, swiping Eddie’s glass for a refill—only a finger this time, not three—Eddie was probably going to be cut off soon, much to his dismay. He wasn’t nearly as plastered as he wanted to be, and having to go to another bar was going to be a major fucking inconvenience. “Not mine.” Buck said, putting the bottle back on the shelf. “My dad would probably be more upset about a bullet going through any clothes he bought us than he would be about it actually going through us. Charming bastard, he was.”

Eddie sucked in a deep breath—to offer his condolences or maybe to cry, he wasn’t sure, because Buck waved it off before he could say one thing or the other. “It’s no big deal, it’s all said and done now. All you can do is be there for your kid as best as you can, and Eddie, I can already tell that you are.”

Eddie sighed as he let his head fall into his hand, lips buzzing as he exhaled, face smushing against his palm. “I hope so. I really want to be, I’d... fuck. I’d give anything to help my kid, to make sure he was safe, to... to make sure he would always be protected.”

Had Eddie been a tad more sober, or maybe a tad more attentive, he probably would have noticed the sudden flick of Buck’s eyes, or the way his wrist jerked to a sudden halt while he was cleaning a glass. He might have noticed the way Buck ran his tongue over his lips, and... well, okay, he definitely noticed that, and was pleased to see Buck’s lips turn into a smile.

“Hey, closing time is in about... now. You sober enough to go for a walk with me, or do you want me to call you a cab? Either way, I’m not letting you drive.”

Eddie pouted, reaching for his wallet in his jacket pocket, blinking in surprise as Buck waved him away. “Come on, you’ve had a rough... year, sounds like. I’ll consider it on the house.”

Eddie felt his cheeks pink up, pulling his jacket on, smiling as he looked down to the bar for a moment. “Alright, well, I owe you one then.”

“Counting on that.” Buck said, his smile wide again, just barely on the right side of too-sharp and too-toothy. “Now, come on. Take a walk with me.”

--

The cold Californian air (well, as cold as it got in California in March) did more to sober Eddie up than any amount of water, and he smiled as he shrugged his jacket a little tighter as Buck locked the door to the little bar he had spent the past few hours in.

His smile grew as Buck finally made eye contact with him again, easily falling into line a half step ahead of Eddie as they started to walk, letting the bartender lead the way to wherever they were going.

“So, Eddie. How did a nice guy like you wind up in a bar like mine?” Given the half conversation they had in the bar, Eddie had no idea what kind of conversation Buck would be expecting—so he was surprised when Buck directed the topic toward himself, asking Eddie about where he grew up, what he did for work, his likes, his dislikes. It was cute, and benign, and Eddie felt his cheeks pink up in a way that wasn’t entirely related to the cold weather every time he caught Buck actually listening to him, actually giving a damn about his interests.

“But, uh, enough about me.” Eddie said, his face bright red as he realized just how long he had been talking. It was unlike him, to say the least—while he wasn’t really a private person, he didn’t have that many opportunities to share himself with people, so now that he had one, he was definitely rambling. “What about you, what’s your story? You’ve already heard all about my parents and my son, any rugrats of your own wandering around?”

No sooner did than the words left Eddie’s mouth did he wish he could take them back—the flash of pain that crossed Buck’s face was only compounded by the way his shoulders hunched, drawing into himself like it was second nature. “Nah, felt like it was kind of selfish, you know? Risking fucking up a little kid just because I wanted one, when I have no idea how to care for one. My parents were... not great. I mean, they weren’t terrible, but they definitely didn’t want to be parents, and they just weren’t... there.” He started, his words slow as they fell back into step with one another. “But I have a sister. She’s so smart, she got out the minute she could and never looked back. She’s the one who gave me this, when I graduated high school.”

Buck’s smile was nothing short of captivating, small and soft as he pulled the small stone Eddie had seen earlier out from his shirt, admiring the gem on the chain before he tucked it away again. “Anyway, she left, and then my dad died, and then my mom kind of lost it, to the point where my options were either move across the country or call an old priest and a young priest. So, don’t walk away thinking you won the award for crazy parent this evening.” Buck said, snorting in a way that was a little too familiar in the “I-make-light-of-my-problems-to-cope” tone that Eddie himself had mastered.

Keeping their pace even, Eddie sighed, looking up at the night sky. It was bright, obnoxiously so—between the city lights and the street lamps above him he couldn’t make out a single star, but he liked to imagine them anyway. The moon was full, at least, and that would do for the time being. “Bobby—err, my boss—says that your family, your real family, is the one you choose, not the one you’re born into. I don’t know if that helps, but… you can always choose something better, Buck. You deserve that much.” he finished with a shrug, raising a brow as he watched Buck shrink into himself, catching the motion out of the corner of his eye.

“You think so?” Buck asked, looking up at Eddie through his lashes (which was a truly impressive feat, considering Eddie was pretty sure Buck was taller than he was). “I do. Or at the very least, I like to believe it.” Eddie said as Buck smiled, bumping his shoulder playfully as they fell back into step, well aware of the way Buck’s eyes trailed over his lips as they curved into a smile of his own.

He wasn’t... stupid, after all. He may have had a busy life and a busy schedule, but Eddie knew when someone was flirting with him. It happened enough while they were out on calls—not that he wanted to toot his own horn—and while he had religiously turned down every single ‘opportunity’ while he was on the clock, that didn’t mean he was a stranger to a one night stand (especially after a few drinks).

And the way that Buck seemed to be looking at him was... delicious, to say the least.

He was caught by surprise when they came to a stop in front of the same bar they had left some half hour ago, his own curious expression met with Buck’s grin. “Well, look at that!” Buck said, looking above the bar toward a set of windows set back behind the neon sign. “Thanks for walking me home.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as he nodded his head, dramatically waving an arm in front of him. “Well, it was my pleasure. And, um, thank you for talking with me, and for listening to me. It... You’ve turned a really shitty day into a much better night.” Eddie said, feeling a warmth spread through him as Buck flat out blushed.

He blushed. Motherfucker had no right being that cute.

“Well, I’m glad that I could help.” Buck said with a smile, pulling him back into the present, looking up at what Eddie assumed was his apartment. “But, you know... the better night doesn’t have to be over yet. Do you want to come up for some coffee?”

Buck probably had a very nice loft above his bar—but Eddie couldn’t be sure, because the moment the door shut behind him, Buck had him pressed up against it, lips pressed against his own and hands blazingly hot on his body. The only thing he could be sure of was that Buck had a great ass—a perfect ass, even because that was the only thing Eddie was holding on to before Buck picked him up, literally, and carried him up the stairs to bed.

Holy fuck, Eddie thought he was going to cum then and there.

Eddie wasn’t someone who was overwhelmed easily, but he found himself starting to lose himself as Buck’s teeth roamed around his body, leaving love bites on his neck, collar bone, down his stomach, and then oh—oh—Eddie felt his cock sink into warm, wet heat, his eyes rolling back in his head as a guttural noise escaped his throat.

Buck just giggled. That asshole.

Nearly an hour later, Eddie was delightfully sore, body tugged in ways he didn’t think were possible without an aggressive amount of stretching. He struggled to catch his breath as Buck flopped over his chest, looking every bit as content as Eddie felt.

“Eddie, holy, uh,” Buck started, and Eddie was pleased to realize he wasn’t the only one who was panting. “Holy shit, that was amazing. Is there a, uh, round two in the stars, or do you have to go home soon? I don’t know about your kid...” Eddie blushed, feeling a little bit of warmth in his chest, entirely unrelated to the physical presence of the man currently using him as a pillow.

“No, he’s out for the night. But as far as round two goes, you may need to give me a few.” he answered with a laugh, all smiles as Buck pulled himself up to press a kiss to Eddie’s lips, sighing contentedly. His deeper breaths turned into a steady sigh as Buck started to trace patterns up and down his free arm, fingers dancing over the palm of one of his hands while the other wrapped around Buck’s shoulders.

“You really love that kid, huh?” Buck murmured against his chest, and Eddie smiled, a soft chuckle making his chest (and Buck’s head) shake. “I do. He deserves everything I can give him and so much more. I’d do anything, give up anything, to make sure Chris is happy and safe.”

Buck felt, more than he heard Eddie speak, the vibrations traveling through his cheek easily. “You’d... sell your car for him?” He asked, looking up as Eddie scoffed.

“Please. In a heartbeat.”

Buck rose a brow, fingers circling Eddie’s palm. “You’d sell your house?”

“Without a doubt.” Eddie locked Buck’s fingers in his own, bringing their hands to his lips, kissing each of Buck’s knuckles as his naked body moved against him. Eddie let out an entirely undignified noise as Buck rolled suddenly, straddling his hips, one hand supporting his weight beside Eddie’s head, the other still linked with his own as he grinned.

“Would you sell your soul?”

Eddie groaned in response as Buck rolled his hips down, still equally overstimulated and sensitive as he nodded his head quickly. “Course. Like I said, anything.”

Eddie felt his eyes slide half shut as Buck sucked in a breath, the expression on his face nothing short of elated. “Oh, Eddie. You won’t regret this, I promise.” he gushed, his eyes bright. “It’s a deal.”

Even as he felt the confusion grow, Eddie couldn’t help but smile as Buck leaned down into a kiss, his enthusiasm—even if Eddie wasn’t sure what it was about—was positively infectious. He felt another groan get pulled from his lips as his eyes slid shut, the sound drowned in Buck’s mouth, Buck’s body heavy on his own and his hand warm in Eddie’s, and...

...wait, no, not warm. Hot. Really hot.

In fact, his entire body was hot. Every inch where Buck touched him was suddenly burning, like he was a white hot coal pulled straight from the fire.

Eddie gasped and pushed back from the kiss, his lungs burning from the inside out, feeling like he was sucking in smoke, his head starting to spin.

“Eddie, it’s okay, just breathe...”

Buck’s voice was a thousand miles away as Eddie grit his teeth, willing his eyes to focus. The last thing he could see was Buck, still beaming at Eddie like he won the lottery; eyes so bright they were literally glowing, his smile far too sharp to be human, matching the two growths sprouting from his head, and Eddie—