#floreplies

Buck resumed dressing as soon as Eddie mentioned the work ‘bake’—it may not have been a true emergency, but he knew enough to know that anything involving Eddie with an oven was a mess and a half, waiting to happen. He hummed, pocketing his keys as he closed his door behind him, already making his way to the garage. “Well, I love baking. Maddie taught me everything she knows. Mind if I swing by and join you?”

Buck knew that Eddie still struggled with asking for help when he needed it—especially when he was asking someone outside of the Diaz crew—but thankfully, Buck knew how to work around that. He had learned early on that the best way to ease any guilt that Eddie might feel where Chris was involved was to completely reshape the question. In this case, it was easy; Eddie was no longer asking for help with one of Chris’ activities, Buck was asking to join them.

Even then, he heard Eddie hesitate. “Well… I mean, I don’t want to take up your Sunday, but—“

“Eddie, you’re not going to seriously deprive me of spending time with Chris, are you?” Buck said, his voice teasing as he slid into his car, delighted to hear Eddie laughing on the other end of the line.

“No, I wouldn’t dare. We’ll see you soon. Drive safe, okay?”

After a quick pit stop at Foods Co., Buck pushed through Eddie’s front door easily, arms laden with grocery bags. Chris was the first to greet him, his high pitched joy never failing to warm his heart. Dumping his bags on the kitchen counter (and looking away from the burned remains of… something in a pan), he scooped Chris into his arms, dutifully ignoring Chris’ cry of “Buuuuck, stoooop!” until he was basically a giggling mess.

Setting Chris back down, Buck was all smiles as he approached a very defeated looking Eddie in the kitchen, giving him a quick kiss of his own. “Hey, come on, cheer up. It’s basically impossible to bake in a bad mood.” Buck said, pulling Eddie into his arms easily. “Now, how about I break open the family recipe book and show you and Chris how to make the world famous Buckley Cheesecake Brownies?”

-

Halfway through the Pixar movie of Chris’ choice, Eddie had a third batch of cheesecake brownies cooling in the fridge, and Buck had Eddie tucked under his arm on the couch. He was basically on cloud nine, riding out a pleasant sugar buzz, feeling supremely comfortable in his own skin, though he knew that was more his proximity to Eddie than anything else.

His attention strayed from the… caterpillars? Grasshoppers? He honestly couldn’t follow what was going on, but it didn’t matter as Eddie culled closer up to him, angling his head up to press another kiss to Buck’s lips, voice low as they broke apart.

“Thanks for today, Buck. We… I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Buck smiled, a small, soft look that was strictly reserved for his Diaz boys, arms tightening around Eddie’s middle as he buried his nose in Eddie’s hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head as Eddie’s head rest on his chest.

“Yeah, Eddie, you could have. And you would have, you’d do anything for Chris, and I know that. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

-

Let it be known that Eddie Diaz was a fucking snack.

Buck knew it. The 118 knew it. Hell, even Carla knew it.

And the gaggle of moms milling through Chris’ school gymnasium? Well, they definitely knew it. And if they didn’t? Buck was 100% there to remind them.

He had all but insisted on joining Eddie and Chris to the bake sale on Monday, not even bothering with excuses, just happily loading Chris up into Eddie’s truck before he slid into the passengers seat himself. He wasn’t going to pass up the chance at scoring some new recipes, first of all, and second of all, he absolutely loved seeing Eddie in full dad mode. And there was no better place to see Eddie in dad mode than in the gymnasium of an elementary school.

Eddie in full on dad mode was fucking hot, okay? Sue him.

Once they had set up Chris’ booth—with a full banner Chris had insisted on painting himself, two tiered display tables stacked high with cheesecake brownies, and a place to make donations to the school, like every other booth had. They may not have been able to keep any of the money they raised, but Chris had more than enough incentive—the booth that got the most donations won their entire class a pizza party. Thankfully, Chris was adorable, and Buck had a secret weapon in his arsenal… the insistence that Eddie wear his LAFD tee shirt, turnout pants, and used an overturned fireman helmet as Chris’ donation bowl. He wasn’t a fool, okay? He knew that the competition was real.

So… he may or may not have had slightly less-than-altruistic intentions when he slipped away from the booth, kissing both Eddie and Chris on their foreheads with the excuse of scoping out the competition as he started to make the rounds.

He was having the absolute time of his life, slipping easily in and out of conversation, his worn henley and comfortable jeans better than any disguise as he eavesdropped, making fast friends and faster business as he made his way around the gym.

“I don’t know, I saw her tossing a few treat boxes into the dumpster outside. You think those cookies are store bought?”

”Oh, I’d steer clear. I think Maria might have mixed up salt and sugar. I mean, I donated of course, but save your tongue.”

“I just think it’s so great, the things that he does with his son. A single dad and a firefighter to boot?”

Obviously, as much fun as sabotage was, Buck’s real talent was talking up Eddie and Chris.

“Honestly, I feel so lucky to even know them. Chris is such a great kid, and Eddie really does go above and beyond.”

It was so much fun because he wasn’t even lying. He got to be as exaggerated and over the top as he wanted—whenever he got a little over the top with Chris, he was usually cut off by a pained groan and an adorable, blushing boy. Whenever he tried to get in depth with Eddie, well, Buck could barely get a few words out before Eddie found a much better use for his lips than talking (with his own adorable blush).

“The last fire we were in, Eddie singlehandedly saved a mother and son who were stuck beneath some debris. He’s an all around hero.”

He was talking now, though—and he had an entirely different approach planned out, depending on his audiences. For all the single moms, easily identified as those who couldn’t take their eyes off of Eddie? All he had to do was mention the word “fireman” and he had them eating out of the palm of his hand; and more importantly, racing over to buy a brownie.

For the parents who were more focused on cooing over the kids at the booths, well, Buck had a trick up his sleeve for them, too—it was as easy as pulling out his phone, scrolling through any number of the photos he had taken the night prior. His personal favorite was one of Chris, eyes bright with laughter, a blob of brownie batter at the end of his nose. He didn’t have to say anything—as soon as they saw that, they were shoving money into Eddie’s helmet.

Eddie looked more and more pleasantly confused as the morning carried on, but Chris looked absolutely delighted, and that was all that mattered as far as Buck was concerned.

-

“Wait, Buck, wait. You’re telling me you actually conned donations out of people by showing them pictures of Chris?”

Eddie had tears, literal tears in his eyes as he tried to inhale, gripping his half full beer bottle like a lifeline as he wheezed. Buck probably should have looked a little bashful, but Eddie’s laughter was too good to ignore, warming him from the inside out.

The parents had been thoroughly thanked and sent home before lunchtime, and Buck had taken no small pleasure in peppering Chris with kisses before Eddie pulled him out of the gym. They had both taken full advantage of their weekday off—namely, by napping and watching terrible daytime television—and Chris had barely made it a half hour after dinner before the day (and the sugar rush) caught up with him, crashing hard as Buck carried him to bed.

“Hey, Chris won the pizza party for his class, and trust me, that is a one way ticket to be the most popular kid in class. And I wasn’t lying, some of those cookies were store bought—everyone else in his grade can suck it.” Was it mature? No. But Buck stood by it. He was team Chris, ride or die.

“Buck, you can’t say ‘suck it’ about a bunch of kids.” Eddie tried to get out, but he was laughing again, leaning heavily against the wall for support as he clinked bottles with Buck. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was, to get to be in Eddie’s space like this—so easily bumping shoulders and elbows and touching so casually, physical signs of affection that Buck had never allowed himself before. Eddie finally got a hold of himself as Buck pushed some of the curls back from his forehead, leaning into the touch easily, his expression nothing short of heart-eyes.

“Well, thank you for saving me from myself yesterday. And, of course, for cracking open the family recipes to help Chris and his school.” Buck blushed again as he sputtered on his mouthful of beer, struggling to swallow, looking up as Eddie cleared his throat.

“It, uh, I found that recipe on the internet.” He said, chewing on his lip, suddenly feeling a little nervous as Eddie smiled at him—and if Buck didn’t know better, he could swear that there was a pink tint to his cheeks..

“Well… I mean, it could be a family recipe now. After all, we made it together, you me and Chris… right?”

Buck’s eyes blew out wide as Eddie laced their fingers together. He hated the way that Eddie’s voice tilted at the end, like he was unsure of himself, and Buck literally had no choice but to pull Eddie into his arms, erasing any doubt from his mind. He had already known that Eddie would be it for him—that he and Chris were the best thing that he was ever going to get, that he would rather die than give this up, but hearing Eddie call them a family?

“What about that one?”

“Ooh, good eye. That’s not a star, that’s a whole planet. You’re looking straight at Jupiter, kid.”

“Wow.”

Yeah, wow.

As usual, Carla was the answer. She had no more than mentioned the word ‘stargazing’ while recounting the road trip her husband had taken for his birthday, and Eddie was all over her, begging politely asking her for more information. Turns out, less than two hours outside of the city, there was one of the best state parks in the country to look up into the sky at night.

Who would have thought?

The fact that it was just as easy to convince Buck to take a night off with him as it was for Eddie to pull Chris out of school the next day said a lot; and while Eddie wasn’t usually one to be super introspective about his relationship, he could tell that it meant just as much for Buck to be included with he and Christopher as it did for Eddie to be able to open himself up to someone outside of their little bubble. 

He had to admit—as excited as he was to share what was such an important part of his childhood (and such a good memory), he was a little worried that Chris wouldn’t feel the same way Eddie did about it. Chris, of course, immediately put that fear to rest—he had immediately dug out one of the beaten old Astronomy books Eddie had given to him, and spent the entire two hour drive 

God, sometimes Eddie forgot just how hungry his kid was to learn. 

“Okay, okay, you see that one buddy? The one that’s moving really fast?”

“Is that a shooting star?”

“No, even cooler—that’s the international space station. There’s astronauts from all over the world up there.”

“Really?!”

Chris’ little hands were flying over the book that Eddie had given him so long ago, easily filling in some of the information the book left out (yes, stars really could explode, no, they didn’t actually twinkle). It might have been a little shallow, but Eddie still loved feeling like he was useful for Chris—the kid who was outlearning him at an alarming pace. He lived for the moments that he got to share; even if he all but promised Chris a telescope for his next birthday, it was more than worth it to see the awed look on his face as he looked up to his dad.

He had all but cocooned himself between Eddie and Buck, claiming the fluffiest pillow for himself, the overstuffed duvet Eddie had spread over them covered in an assortment of snacks. Eddie might have gone a little overboard in the blanket department, but he couldn’t find a reason to think of that as a bad thing—who said their miniature camping excursion had to be uncomfortable? 

(Buck, to his credit, had made it exactly one half hour into stargazing before dozing off in the mountain of blankets Eddie had piled up in the bed of the truck—his head resting on Eddie’s shoulder, Chris resting between the two of them, all but using Buck as a glorified booster seat.

Eddie didn’t mind—the fact that Buck felt safe and comfortable enough to sleep around him made his heart warm in a way he wasn’t sure he was allowed to think about.)

“Do you think I can get my own constellation?”

“You already do, buddy... see, that one, right there. That’s Cepheus—the king of the world!”

Any protests that Chris tried to squeak out were immediately negated by the force of his giggles.

At some point in time during the evening, in between telling Chris all about Andromeda and Leo, about Orion and the Scorpion, Eddie had to admit, he stopped watching the sky and started to watch Chris. For so much of his life, he had felt guilty, like he had to make up for all the time that he had missed when Chris was a baby, but looking back now, he wouldn’t change a thing—even if it did hurt him to admit it. After the tsunami, Eddie had brought Chris and Buck back together the next day, his reasoning simple—it was Chris’ turn to save Buck, just like Buck had done for Chris, but now was one of those moments where he realized that Chris didn’t just save Buck—he had saved Eddie, too. 

‘I miss you all the time.’

Hearing that had done a number on Eddie, but looking back, it was easy to identify that as the lynchpin, the catalyst of change that pushed them across the country, into the 118, that had brought Sharon back into their lives for the end of hers, that had thrown Buck at him before Eddie even knew what was going on. More importantly, it was the moment where Eddie realized that Chris wasn’t just his kid, he was his own person—he existed outside of anything that Eddie could control or maintain, and it was all he could do to hold on as Chris took charge in his own life.

He could barely remember what it felt like, to be so young, and open, and willing to take whatever information the world could give you. It wasn’t always easy to see himself in his kid, but he prayed that Chris never lost that sense of curiosity, of wonder, that he had when he was a kid himself (that all but abandoned him now, taunting him, hovering just out of his reach). 

He couldn’t resist leaning over as Chris looked down at his book, kissing the crown of his son’s head, letting himself breathe for only a moment through the mess of curls as he closed his eyes.

“Where’s the Big Dipper?”

Eddie grinned and hunched down next to Chris’ eye level, mindful of the human body he was using as a seat, his index finger tracing over the familiar cluster of stars.

"See, here’s the head, and body, and legs, and tail... and right between the Big Dipper and Cepheus… that one is the Little Dipper. Big Bear and Little Bear.”

“Just like you and me, huh dad?”

Eddie had to swallow before responding.

“Yeah buddy, just like you and me.”