#queue4601

eddie & bobby, implied pre-buddie | gap filler in the middle of LabRats | rated: G | 2K

Eddie accepts the call and hadn’t even looked at the name. It’s not Buck. And it’s not a FaceTime. Which is surprising on both counts but not unwelcome. It hits him with a rolling wave of homesickness though. Still. Eddie smiles when he answers. “Hey, Cap. How’s it going?”

“Hi, Eddie,” Bobby says. “It’s good to hear your voice. It’s not the same without you around.”

God, he feels that. Nothing is the same without his team. But Eddie has Chris. They’ll be okay. “I miss you, too. Sorry, I should have called you sooner. I’ve been thinking about you though.”

“Me too. And don’t worry about that. How is Christopher? Are you two settling in out there?” 

Eddie glances in the direction of the living area where Chris is on the sofa playing a solitary round of racing against the game. Where Eddie’s son is happy and they’re back together, Diaz boys against the world, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else. 

Maybe he can ask for a few things. Like something to fill the Buck shaped hole in his chest. But he’s not pushing his luck here. 

He still has Buck. They talk all the time. Every day. 

“Chris is good. Moved back in with me a couple weeks ago. We’re so much better. It’s great. What about you? How’s Athena? And the kids?” Eddie should really call May and see how school is going. She texts him silly memes and instagram posts every so often, and sometimes makes fun of whatever Josh has posted about Glee this week. As she should.

“That’s great, Eddie. I’m so glad you two worked it out.”

“Me too, Cap. Holy hell, me too.” Eddie waits for a moment, hoping Bobby will answer his questions. 

He doesn’t. 

Maybe Eddie should ask again? 

Or maybe something happened? 

“Is there,” Eddie starts and how does he even ask. What does he ask? “A reason you called me?” 

“Yes,” Bobby answers. 

Eddie checks the time and the calendar, and A Shift should be off the clock by now. Should be. But they were on the last shift. They were on not long ago. 

“Did something happen?” Eddie asks lightly, trying not to worry. He doesn’t need to worry. He’s not worrying.

“Yes.”

Fuck. Okay. So. He’s worrying. Eddie’s heart immediately pounds. There could be lightning or earthquakes or psychotic kidnappers, and any one of his team could be in trouble. 

“Is it,” Eddie swallows hard and has to know. He can know. He can take it. God, please don’t let it be Buck. Please don’t let something happen to Eddie’s partner because Eddie left him and isn’t there. “Is it Buck? Did something happen with Buck?”

“No. Not exactly. He’s safe as far as I know. He’s been with Athena.” 

Okay. Then Eddie can breathe a little again. “Who then? What happened?”

There’s a pause before Bobby answers and Eddie can hear something in the background of the call but has no idea what it could even be. “I can’t give you many details. I don’t have much time.” 

He doesn’t have much time. Bobby. Doesn’t have much time. 

Bobby doesn’t have much time. 

Have some (almost) fucking? 😘💕

@tizniz @hippolotamus @mangonadaeddie @sergeantchenford @daffi-990 @dr-shortsighted-owl @greencreekwolf @spotsandsocks @bekkachaos @thelikesofus @singitforthegirls @exhuastedpigeon @glorious-spoon @dangerpronebuddie @damnikindaship @chaosandwolves @sazanahashi @dollyblogs @drmellking @livinginsunnyhell @livingincolorsagain @spaceprincessem @kejfeblintz @monsterrae1 @keynb @beyourownanchor6 💕

Eddie pushes his shorts and underwear down his own hips, and Buck takes that cue, takes them from Eddie’s hands and tugs them off all the way.

Buck practically falls to his knees after, even though he stays on the bed. He crouches, bends his head low, digs his hands into Eddie’s thighs.

Eddie lets them fall open. Buck probably wants to touch him, maybe look at him. If it were anyone else, Eddie would avoid it. He doesn’t need to be stared at, scrutinized, objectified. He doesn’t like to have anyone this close.

But he would let Buck. It’s Buck.

Buck’s hands tremble against Eddie’s legs. He bends lower and places the softest, lightest kiss just above Eddie’s knee. His eyes are squeezed shut and he pants hot rushed puffs of breath against the inside of Eddie’s thigh.

“Eddie,” he says quietly, so quiet but so heavy with longing. Years of longing? Like how Eddie also feels like nothing but gaping emptiness? “Eddie. You’re so— Eddie.”

Eddie’s heart is loud in his own ears. Is looking at him too much? Seeing him naked is too much? Buck’s seen him naked plenty. Not like this. Nothing like this. But still. They’ve changed in front of each other thousands of times. They lived together for six months. They helped each other bathe when the other was injured. Which is a whole other kind of intimacy. It’s not this.

Buck rests his face against the inside of Eddie’s thigh, and Eddie’s pretty sure the wetness sliding over his leg is Buck’s escaped tears.

Eddie presses teeth into his lower lip and reaches down until he can sift his fingers through Buck’s thick curls. It makes Buck whimper a tortured, lonely sound that breaks Eddie’s heart.

He knows that sound. He knows that feeling. Eddie shivers, aches with it the same way Buck does.

“Come here,” Eddie whispers gently. He sits up a little, strokes Buck’s soft hair, and urges him with both hands to be closer.

@tizniz @fleurdebeton @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @damnikindaship @bekkachaos @exhuastedpigeon @mangonadaeddie @thelikesofus @greencreekwolf @singitforthegirls @babydollbuck @sergeantchenford @glorious-spoon @dangerpronebuddie @sunflower-eddiediaz @sofa-king-lame @youreavicioustrollop @kejfeblintz @livinginsunnyhell @fiona-fififi @thewolvesof1998 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sazanahashi

Eddie’s at the dining room table with his tablet when they walk through the door. “You two have fun?” 

Chris nods, walks over to his dad, whispers something Buck can’t hear. And then Eddie strokes Chris’ hair and kisses his forehead. “I know,” Eddie tells Chris. “Me too.” 

While Chris goes to his room, Buck sets takeout on the table and sits next to Eddie. “Did you eat while we were out?”

Eddie doesn’t answer but does look appropriately guilty.

Yeah. That’s what Buck thought. Anxiety, nausea, empty stomach. He nudges the bag of take out toward Eddie. “Huli huli chicken, macaroni salad, and garlic pineapple fried rice. We ate before we came home. Figured you’d be hungry.”

Eddie sighs. “Thank you.” He trades the bag takeout with the tablet in his hand and hands said tablet over to Buck. “I found some places. Near the station, near Maddie and Chimney. A couple have really nice kitchens, all of them have elevators. One has a state of the art gym set up and another has a nice pool. All within your price range. They mostly look like boring blank boxes, but once you unpack, they’d probably be fine. No different than here anyway.” 

Buck stares at all the open tabs, all the apartment buildings, all the listings. Eddie found places. Eddie found options for places that fit all of Buck’s wishlist. 

Buck doesn’t want to look at any of them. He should. But. But not now. They’re very different from being here. He turns the tablet face down onto the table. “You didn’t have to worry about that.” 

Eddie tangles one finger in the loop handle of the takeout bag. He doesn’t look at Buck, and also doesn’t get his food out. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. Especially not while you’re here.”

Buck lets out all the air in his lungs. “Eddie, I’m not unhappy. I love being here.” 

“Well. I want it to stay that way. You loving being here. So. You should move out before you hate— before you hate it.”

Before Buck hates the house? Or before Buck hates Eddie? Because right now, it sounds more like the latter. “I don’t hate it. I could never hate it.”

Eddie shakes his head, holds up a hand. He doesn’t believe it. He actually, literally believes it’s possible for Buck to hate him and this and being here with two of his favorite people in the whole world. That’s what that means. That is what is going on. 

“It’s okay,” Eddie says even though it’s not. None of this is. But he’s somehow calm and unresponsive. Unresponsive. Doesn’t respond to life saving measures. “I don’t blame you.” He nudges the tablet closer to Buck and picks up his takeout dinner as he gets up from the table. “I washed all my bedding and put clean sheets on the bed. You can have it tonight. You can have that room until you find a place you want to live.”

Buck’s stomach drops. Everything drops. His heart, his stomach, the thing that’s probably his soul. “What? Eddie, no. I’m not going to— What the hell?” 

“It’s fine. I love that couch. I’ve slept in far worse places. I don’t mind.”

“Eddie—”

“No, Buck. If you want to be a guest here, then I want to be a good host. Take the bed, take the bedroom. Take anything you want. Thank you for dinner. I appreciate it.” He holds the takeout in his hands closer to his body, then turns and goes into the kitchen. 

Presumably to eat. Hopefully to fucking eat. Even though he could have eaten right here. But of course he wasn’t going to. Of course he was going to run away or shut everything out or push everyone away.