#renecdote

dude. DUDE. i'm enjoying the fic so i felt bad about having this big giant specific ick but like. This Is Not A Blond Man. this has never been a blond man. this will never be a blond man. like honestly i wouldn't even say his hair is light brown actually although it does look it in certain lights (see below) but COME ONNNNNNNNNNNN

25. good night kisses

Eddie couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips at the soft light leaking from the bedroom into the hallway. The house was otherwise dark and quiet, asleep like nearly everywhere else even though Eddie was toeing off his shoes at almost four in the morning. The end of a long day; a long, hard day that had Eddie wanting nothing more than slide under the covers and never come out.

He moved throughout his nightly routine in near perfect silence, brushing his teeth and changing into his pajamas in the laundry room before he moved around the house to make sure everything was locked.

Every one of his muscles ached, his body feeling like one big bruise even down to his core, and his bed called to him like a siren song in the haziness of his exhaustion but he needed to check. Eddie was getting better--- even Frank said so--- but Eddie still wasn't there yet. Not completely and if he didn't check then he wouldn't be able to sleep no matter how tired he was. He'd toss and turn thinking of locks that weren't latched; windows that could be cracked. But the creeping feeling of anxiety that crawled up his spine into a hyper vigilance he still hadn't been able to shake no matter how much therapy he went to, was helped by the soft glowing light bleeding into the hallway.

That was something that nearly knocked Eddie over the first time Buck had done it. Buck, who could sleep pretty much anywhere and in any position so long as he felt safe enough, had done it like he did almost all things. A thoughtful gesture of kindness that took him little to no time to consider before he just did it. Kindness came easy to Buck though and for some reason, Buck's kindness was something that Buck decided to make Eddie rich in. It was the small gestures, supportive and quiet that Eddie didn't have to fight for like he felt like he did most things.

It was nice. Having a partner wasn't something that Eddie didn't realize he'd been lacking until he met Buck that day in the firehouse. Prickly, huffing Buck that practically hissed at Eddie on sight who now showered him in love and affection and acceptance.

It made everything easier. Sometimes Eddie had still felt like he was trapped in those sand dunes, fighting to survive day by day as all the little responsibilities piled up over his head until it threatened to overwhelm him. Buck made living easier, sweeping in like a breath of fresh air that Eddie's too tight lungs didn't know he needed until Buck had already swept in like the softest hurricane.

But that damn light...

If Eddie didn't love Buck already then that damn light would've been the thing to have done it because Buck did it every time for the simple reason that he knew Eddie hated coming home to a dark house. That was it.

Eddie hated coming home to a dark house and Buck left the light on in their bedroom whenever he went to bed without him.

No fights. No sighs. No bargaining hanging over his head.

And Eddie loved him for it.

With a quiet shuffle, he made his way into their bedroom and stopped to take in the sight. Buck's face was soft with sleep as the slow, even rise and fall of his chest sent Eddie into a trance as he followed the rhythm like it was his own.

He still couldn't believe he got this. Buck with his curls wild on his head and his nose tucked into Eddie's pillow like he was following the scent of him; his hand outstretched where Eddie would soon be. Comfortable. Safe. The light shadowed his features but Eddie could spy the pink birthmark even in the darkness of it all.

Buck stirred quietly as Eddie slipped into bed, a soft sound sighing out of him as he pushed into Eddie's space before Eddie could even fully get settled. Eddie chuckled as Buck's arms wrapped around his waist, slipping a leg between his, and Eddie carded his fingers through Buck's hair to soothe the desperation.

"Give me a sec, baby," Eddie whispered, leaning down to press a kiss against the crown of Buck's head.

Buck just sighed a few nonsensical sounds as Eddie stretched to turn off the light. The darkness made Eddie's heart rate tick up but before he could stress about going through his checklist, Buck just pushed his way up Eddie's chest and tucked his nose into the hollow of Eddie's throat with a sigh.

"Night," Buck mumbled, tightening his arms around Eddie's waist and pulling him close. He tipped his head up slightly, kissing the space underneath Eddie's jaw that always made him melt.

"Goodnight Buck," Eddie said as he nuzzled into Buck's hair, inhaling his scent, and falling asleep with the heat of Buck at his side.

“I thought this would be harder,” Eddie admitted, watching as Christopher walked into the doors of his high school. He’d just about consented to a brief hug from them both, and then had fixed Eddie, and Buck, with a serious look, and informed them that they were not allowed to cross the street with him, let alone walk him to the front doors.

He apparently had a reputation to preserve. 

Buck gave him a questioning look. 

“Like - it’s hard,” Eddie conceded, because nothing about parenthood was particularly easy, and watching your baby grow up, the years flying by, was never easy. A part of him wanted to keep Christopher as a kid forever, and another part of him - well, that part of him realised you couldn’t actually do that, and so maybe it was better to enjoy the fact your kid was growing up. “But I just - I thought I’d be sobbing this whole morning.”

Buck’s grin was fond. “You did cry in the shower.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at his husband. “I know I did,” he shook his head. “But I just - I’m excited for Christopher, more than anything else? Because he’s so smart, and he’s confident, and happy, and he’s going to make so many new friends, and he’s just - he’s growing up to be a really incredible person. How can I not be excited about what amazing things he’s going to do with his life?” 

“You know,” Buck hummed, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, holding him close. “He’s an amazing kid because he’s got an amazing dad.”

Eddie flushed, shaking his head. “I can’t take all the credit,” he returned, twisting so he could squint at Buck, the early morning sunshine bright. “He’s got two amazing dads.”

Buck grinned. “We’re not doing too badly, are we?” 

Eddie leaned back against his husband. “No,” he agreed, watching as Christopher disappeared from view. “We’re really not.”

The thing is, Buck downloaded Bantr mostly as a way to prove Hen wrong about “finding connection without the physical getting in the way”. Because, like, that’s impossible, right? You can’t just – connect to someone without seeing what they look like first. Okay, so looks aren’t everything, whatever, Maddie’s given him That Spiel enough times since he was old enough to think boobs were attractive, but they sure count for something. (And, no, Hen, Buck’s not using his looks as a crutch, thanks. It’s not his fault he looks good all the time and that happens to be something women look for in a man. He can’t help what god and genetics gave him, can he?) So Bantr – was never supposed to— Buck is twenty-six years old. He likes sex. He likes good-looking people. He can’t help it. He isn’t looking for a connection. He’s young, he’s hot, he’s got arguably one of the most attractive jobs on the planet – he’s doing well for himself. He doesn’t need a connection. He doesn’t particularly want one, for that matter. Bantr is a way to prove Hen wrong, and nothing else. Until he meets daysofmylife, and then it’s like— He can’t explain it. He can’t. He’d like to, but how can he properly explain that he’s smiling stupidly at his phone every time a message from a man he’s never seen lights up his notifications? How can he articulate the way he makes Buck feel, with even the slightest show of affection? How can he make sense of the fact that anytime something good happens, anytime he feels like he’s accomplished something he’s proud of, he wants to share it with Days first? He doesn’t even know his name. That’s some sort of witchcraft, if you ask Buck. He can’t even think about other people, either, not anymore – a couple of months ago, some woman from dispatch tried to hit on him by finding his phone number on the 9-1-1 report (which – okay, weird) and all Buck could think was, wait until I tell Days about this. He’s down bad. He’s – it’s a little embarrassing, he’ll admit. It’s been a while since he’s been able to share every stupid and intrusive thought he’s ever had with someone willing to listen – not only willing to listen, but eager to listen, like they’d rather be doing nothing else. Days is – an impossible person: kind, witty, caring, and Buck is – he’s not used to people being kind to him. He’s not used to people caring. There are days he feels like running, afraid Days will become aware of every single one of his flaws and decide to run first, but then there are days – at around one in the morning, under the quiet cloak of nighttime – where he lets himself be cared about, lets himself accept the kindness, and it feels like stepping into the light for the very first time, the warmth spreading through his veins and he thinks, oh. Maybe this is okay. Maybe this is what he wants. Maybe this is what he deserves. And it feels – wonderful. It feels impossible, and it feels like suddenly looking at a world that’s bursting in color, and it feels like someone choosing him, for who he is, not for what he looks like, for the very first time. Then Eddie Diaz shows up as a new recruit at the station, all swagger, sans shirt, acting like he owns the place, and despite Buck’s frustrations and insecurities, suddenly he can’t tell whether he wants to punch Diaz in the face or kiss him senseless, and things start to get – complicated.

(It’s probably going to become a problem at some point, how much his world starts and stops with Buck.)

it could mean something (it could mean everything) by renecdote (@renecdote)

Buddie | 1k | Teen

There is time for one decision.

The truck is going to hit the ground. Hard. Can’t avoid that. Buck wonders if crashing down on top of a firetruck will hurt more than a firetruck crashing down on top of him.

Then he stops that thought. There’s no time.

Oh my gosh yes please it would be so good

Right! I think like a 60s set would be really cool but the costumes to a 20s episode would be so pretty🥺🥺🥺