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Please be rude

Summary:

Recently, there has been a strange pull whenever he gets close to his best friend. Something sharper, heavier than his usual skin hunger, an itch that seems impossible to scratch. At first Buck chalks it up to the usual clinginess, like it’s some kind of side effect showing up after ignoring it for so long.

But this thing seems a little different and he doesn’t understand it. He feels so lost and frustrated, especially when he’s forced to curl his hands into fists just to prevent himself from leaning over and bite the tendon of Eddie’s forearm while they’re bent over the same sheet of paperwork.

Or Five Times Buck takes everything Eddie's willing to give, and one time it's Eddie who takes everything Buck wants to give.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

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Buck doesn’t really notice it at first. Not really. He’s always been a little too touchy-feely with the people he loves, craving affection and warmth like an addict desperate for a fix. His therapist defined it “touch starvation”, mostly caused by loveless parents, failed relationships, and a good amount of trauma. It’s not much of a stretch, seeing that he could find all these things high up on his list of ‘stuff that fucked me over for good’.

 

Except, he doesn’t like the sound of it, refusing to believe it’s true; he prefers to think that his constant need for touch is just a phase he’ll eventually outgrow. So, what if he’s clingy and enjoys hugging his friends a lot? As long as he ignores the restless hunger crawling under his skin, he’ll be fine. Sure, his general tactic to sweep issues under the rug until they don’t come back to bite his own ass is not exactly healthy – but Buck feels positive it’s not going to get more complicated than that.

 

Except lately, things got quite weird. Buck fears he’s unlocked yet another one of his odd coping mechanisms without even knowing how. He’s sure his therapist is going to have a field day with it.

 

Recently, there has been a strange pull whenever he gets close to his best friend. Something sharper, heavier than his usual skin hunger, an itch that seems impossible to scratch. At first Buck chalks it up to the usual clinginess, like it’s some kind of side effect showing up after ignoring it for so long. But this thing seems a little different and he doesn’t understand it.

 

He feels so lost and frustrated, especially when he’s forced to curl his hands into fists just to prevent himself from leaning over and bite the tendon of Eddie’s forearm while they’re bent over the same sheet of paperwork.

 

It only gets awfully insufferable as the days pass. His jaw tightens when Eddie clasps his shoulder after a bad call. A lump clogs his throat whenever Eddie laughs, leaning into his side. Buck spends a whole week trying to ignore it, to pretend it’s nothing, keeping himself busy with work, books on the strangest topics he can find, literally anything to get his mind off of it. He tells himself it’s just stress, leftover adrenaline, or maybe some new brain glitch determined to drive him towards the brink of insanity.

 

Then one morning, during breakfast at the station, Eddie’s talking with Chim and Bobby about last night’s basketball game while Hen is showing Ravi pictures of her son. Usually, Buck would be happy to see them too, but this time he doesn’t even attempts to. He’s too busy staring at Eddie. At the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. At the curve of his throat when he tips his head back, letting out a rough, amused laugh in response to Chim’s joke.

 

It’s not sexual-not entirely. Or maybe it is, hell if he knows anymore. What he feels is more like a comfort thing, a ‘let me bite you so I know you’re real’ thing. If Buck will ever need to pinpoint the moment where everything started spiralling, it’d probably be this one.

 

So, like every time he needs to deal with one of his weird brain glitches, Buck goes home, flips his laptop open and googles: ‘Why do I want to bite my best friend?’

 

That’s how he gradually falls down a rabbit hole of gloom and google results. He goes through links upon links, dives into endless Reddits threads and bizarre forum discussions. Buck carefully dissections Wikipedia articles and watches several TikTok videos of people claiming it’s not something to fear. Like a video of this pretty girl with black nails, blue eyeliner and a debateable sense of humour who starts her speech with a huge, reassuring smirk.

 

Have you ever felt the urge of biting your loved ones? Well, if you did and think you might be contracting some kind of zombie disease, rest assured: you’re not about to become a monster…and nope, you won’t end up in a mental institute unless you identify yourself with Hannibal Lecter, or something.”

 

And nope. Buck doesn’t feel sick, nor he suddenly wants to eat his best friend’s arm for dinner. Well, not in the literal sense anyway – he’d sure like to eat him out, but that’s a story for another time.  So, he resolves he’s not that crazy.

 

Some posts are a little concerning – like the subreddit full of vampire kink enthusiasts or the forum with people genuinely believing in their vampire’s heritage and powers. Others feels oddly reassuring, like the article explaining how that kind of feeling can be a form of cute aggression, which is a stress relief, a way to cope with positive emotions or overwhelming feelings.

 

The more Buck reads through the thousands of results, the more this new, devastating urge feels normal. Maybe even reasonable. Except for one, tiny detail: most of the posts are about significant others. Partners. Married people.

 

Buck slams the laptop’s shut and drops his face into his hands, groaning. Of course. Of course, it all comes back to his fucking best friend. It always does. He’s so ridiculously in love with him that he doesn’t even think there ever was a before, in which he wasn’t utterly consumed by this bittersweet, overwhelming feeling. He’s been loving him for longer than he dares to admit. And apparently, he’s developed a brand-new love language to go with it: gnawing.

 

A couple of days later, Buck is back at it, hunched over his phone at the kitchen table in the firehouse. He’s doesn’t know what he’s hoping to find exactly, but he dives deeper into the internet hole. His brain buzzes with new information, reading carefully through a very interesting Reddit post about someone who feels the uncontrollable urge to bite their boyfriend’s side every time his shirt rides up, exposing a strip of soft skin.

 

Buck cannot help but relate with this situation. Across from him, Eddie sits with his usual mug of black coffee – as dark as the pit in Buck’s stomach – and Buck’s brain starts chanting an intricate symphony of bite, bite, bite as he catches a glimpse of Eddie’s collarbone peeking out his shirt.

 

He doesn’t even notice Hen watching him until he looks up and sees her amused smirk. He turns into five shades of red and immediately drops his gaze back to the screen, pretending to read.

 

“What are you reading, Buckaroo?” Hen teases. “It looks fascinating.”

 

Buck loves Hen to death but right now he might reconsider their friendship. Her question has the whole table turning to him.

 

Whenever Buck gets fixated on a new thing, his friends are always willing to listen to his rants in between shifts. Chim claims it makes downtime less boring, giving them new stuff to think about. Buck genuinely appreciates it, but this time he hesitates, debating on whether exposing himself or shamelessly lie to his teammates to avoid the teasing he’s certain he’s going to have to endure later.

 

In the end, he blurts it out anyway.

 

So, did you guys know that there’s a scientific and psychological basis for wanting to uh, bite people you care about?” Despite the embarrassing topic, Buck’s grin gets wider, and his eyes fill with delight. “It’s called ‘cute aggression’. Basically, it helps people coping when they get too overwhelmed with positive emotions. That’s why people want to squeeze babies’ cheeks, for example.”

 

“So, you’re saying if I want to bite my wife, it’s science?” Chim smirks into his coffee.

 

“Exactly!” Buck nods eagerly, beaming. “It’s also helpful for people dealing with pain because, apparently, biting releases endorphins that act like natural painkillers!”

 

“Oh. That’s why they made me bite a lollipop when I got my rib tattoo.” Ravi brightens up at that conclusion, as if he’s just discovered the most mysterious secret of the universe.

 

Buck looks at him approvingly. He risks a glance at Eddie and finds him smiling, looking fond, like he’s honestly interested in Buck’s lectures. Buck feels warmth flooding his chest and ducks his head, chewing at his lower lip. He’s about to launch into more info-dumping, when Hen cuts in, eyebrows raised and looking way too amused for Buck’s likings.

 

“And you went down this rabbit hole because…?”

 

TikTok.” Buck says quickly, a light pink adorning his cheeks. “I saw a video of a girl talking about how she wanted to bite her best friend, and I was curious.”

 

“A video.” Ravi says flatly, looking at him unimpressed. “Right.”

 

“Well, I don’t see why he’d lie.” Chim is dangerously grinning now, and Buck suddenly worries for his dignity. “I mean, you don’t feel the need to bite us, do you, buddy?”

 

“What?” Buck sputters, horrified, wanting to disappear right on spot. “No! Guys, it’s just research! It’s not like I actually want to bite my best friend or something like that girl in the video, okay?”

 

The words hang in the air for a moment before Buck realizes what he’s just said. The whole table bursts into laughter as Buck feels like dying inside. He wants to say something, anything, to try and save the little pride he has left. But the alarm’s bell blares, rescuing him from further embarrassment, and he feels like he can breathe again.

 

“Saved by the alarm.” Hen winks at him.

 

Everyone scrambles for gear, still chuckling. Buck laughs too, but it’s a little hollow and his face’s blazing hot. Because only in that moment, as he looks up, he sees Eddie staring at him in a completely different way.

 

Deep, intense, like he’s already figured out exactly who Buck wants to bite. Not that it’d take a genius after what he blurted out in denial, sadly kissing his dignity goodbye. He just hopes everyone, himself included, will forget about this whole embarrassing situation, and move along. Spoiler: it doesn’t happen.

 

 

    1.

 

Exactly a week later, things take a turn for the worst. Or maybe the better. To be honest, Buck hasn’t decided yet. It happens after a 48-hours shift that leaves him so exhausted his hands shake too hard to even get out of his gear. Eddie is there – of course he’s there, he’s always there – and helps him without hesitation.

 

After a quick shower, he takes him home to his house, because he knows Buck won’t be able to stay alone with his head. And mostly because Buck practically lives there anyway, so it’s not weird to let him crash on the couch after a very long, draining shift.

 

Buck feels disconnected from reality. There was too much smoke, too many screams for him to remain rational. A woman almost died right in his arms, and he knows he’ll never get used to the feeling of impotence and dread brutally clutching at his stomach. The lump in his throat burns like fire, the hollow in the chest grows deeper, and Buck feels like he’s about to shatter into million pieces. Exhaustion washes over his body in waves, making his body impossibly heavy.

 

They’re slouched on the living room couch, close enough that Buck can sense the warmth radiating off him. They had a quick breakfast, but Buck didn’t feel like eating much and his mug of coffee sits untouched in the sink next to Eddie’s empty one. Buck glances at his best friend and the itch reappears – louder, stronger than he ever felt.

 

Before he can stop himself, the words tumble out, raw and reckless.  

 

“Can I bite you?”

 

The following silence is full of smothering tension. The room goes still, and Buck’s ears ring with the wild thrums of his own heartbeat, so loud and fast he thinks it’s going to burst out his chest. He stares at his hands, still slightly trembling, and immediately feels like an idiot.

 

He wishes he could swallow the words back down his throat, that he could laugh it off as a joke. But Eddie knows him too well to fall for such excuse of a lie. So, Buck waits for what feels like infinity. Breathless. Panicked. Helpless.

 

“Okay, sure.” Eddie whispers it like it’s the easiest thing in the world, looking at him with such gentleness it knocks the air out of his lungs.

 

“What?” Buck head snaps up. “Are you – that’s –“

 

“It’s fine.” Eddie slightly tilts his head to the side, calmly watching him, like Buck has just asked for a glass of water. “You need it, right?”

 

“I don’t even know – It’s just so hard to explain –“

 

Buck’s eyes sting. He stubbornly points them on the phone turned upside down on the coffee table because looking at Eddie feels impossible now. He doesn’t really know how to react. He feels unsteady, like a shipwreck tossed on rough waters, barely afloat, while his best friend looks calm and steady, like a lighthouse guiding him through the storm to bring him back home.

 

“It’s okay.” Eddie holds out his hand for Buck to take. “You don’t have to.”

 

“But –“

 

Baby.” The pet name makes Buck’s breath hitch. He blushes hard, his cheeks burning hot, feeling a little nervous. Eddie’s gaze is firm, expectant and doesn’t back down. “C’mere.”

 

Buck hesitates for only one second before throwing all caution to the wind and grabbing Eddie’s hand like a lifeline. His whole body vibrates with the desperate urge that fills him up entirely, insistent.

 

Eddie pulls him in, gently, until Buck is straddling him, gripping his shoulders tight. He steadies him by softly holding his hips. Buck flushes hotter because this is dangerously new. He never sat on his best friend’s lap before, and the closeness, the way his thighs cage him under Buck, threatens to break him open with want so thick it makes it harder even to breathe.

 

“I –Where should I –“Buck stutters, breath catching on every syllable.

 

“Wherever you feel safe.” Eddie squeezes his hips as if to say it’s fine, I’ve got you and Buck dies a little more inside. His thumbs press into his skin and his voice is sure, barely higher than a mutter, unwavering.  “Take your time, baby.”

 

So, Buck breathes in deeply and just leans in. He presses his mouth to the slope of his clothed shoulder, choosing the fabric instead of bare skin because he’s terrified of what he might do instead, of how much of a wreck it’d make him. His teeth softly graze through the cotton of Eddie’s shirt, testing the waters. Eddie’s hands settle to his waist, firm, grounding, making him feel welcomed, safe.

 

And then, Buck bites harder enough to leave a mark. Enough to feel the release in his jaw. Eddie lets out a soundless whimper, almost inaudible. It’s so faint that Buck doesn’t even know if he really did it, but it sears through him all the same.

 

The relief is immediate and so crushing he feels a few tears running down while he crutches Eddie’s shirt with his fingers. Comfort seeps through his tired limbs and he muffles a sob against his best friend’s shoulder before biting down again, softer this time, just to keep himself above the water. Eddie keeps holding him against his chest, fingers gently carding through his hair, whispering low, sweet nothings into his ear.

 

“That’s it, baby. Let it out. I’ve got you. It’s gonna be alright.”

 

Buck sobs quietly into his chest and finally the aching feeling begins to ease. And in that fragile moment that feels like suspended in time, he believes him.

 

 

  1.  

 

A couple of Sundays later, everyone is gathered at Bobby’s for the usual ‘barbecue day’ he and Athena like to host whenever the whole 118 team miraculously gets a day off. Every time it happens, Buck feels extremely excited because these moments feel like stolen time, a chance to breathe and spend some quality time with all his friends and chosen family.

 

The smoky scent of barbecue fills the air, voices blend together into a comforting background hum, and joyful laughter spill out as the kids play in the backyard. Bobby’s ‘chilling with family’ playlist streams from the speakers Ravi’s girlfriend brought for the occasion.

 

It was Buck who taught Bobby how to create playlists on Spotify a couple of years back and evidently it stuck. Bobby got so addicted to it that he’s been creating playlists for everything he does: breakfast at the firehouse, romantic home dinners with his wife, napping. He even made one for important conversations, which he already used with Buck more times that he’d like to remember.

 

Everyone finds it quite funny, but Buck thinks it’s kind of sweet especially when Bobby bashfully recommends new songs or asks them about their favourite ones so that he can add them in the shared playlists he plays at work – “Alexa could you play the ‘Scrubbing makes the heart grow fonder’ playlist, please? Thank you.”

 

Despite the cringe in the titles he chooses, Buck can’t help feeling proud watching with fondness his captain become a real ‘tech pro’.

 

Sitting on the swinging bench, balancing a plate of delicious food on his knees, he smiles as he watches Danny letting little Jee apply glittery makeup to his cheeks while Chris attempts to braid her light brown hair. He’s failing miserably, but still nodding in satisfaction as he clips half a dozen Disney barrettes on her head.

 

Buck feels warmth spread through him and feels content to just stay there and rest. He wishes life could always be this easy – surrounded by his loved ones and just happy to exist in the moment. For once, his head feels quiet, free of the useless thoughts clouding him all the time.

 

Which is why he doesn’t really expect things to turn sour in the next moment, the sudden shift of tension hitting him like a sucker punch. It takes one call and Maddie’s angry voice disappearing into the house to make him set his plate aside with alarm. His body reacts before his mind does and he’s already reaching her in the Nash kitchen.

 

Chim is there too, fixing his wife with worried eyes. They exchange a resigned glance and wait for the inevitable.

 

Don’t. Buck has nothing to do with this, Mom. I’m an adult and I can make my own choices.” Maddie looks like she wants to punch something. She’s not shouting, but the flame of restrained fury is wild in her glassy eyes as she tightly tethers the phone to her ear. “Just –

I don’t think now’s the right time for you to come visit.”

 

Buck freezes, fists curling tight. He doesn’t like this situation at all and whenever their parents are mentioned something raw twists in his chest. Since he was a child, Philip and Margaret Buckley have always treated him like something expandable, as if he only existed to disappoint everyone around him.

 

His sister didn’t experience the same treatment because they were very fond of their daughter and mostly acted like real parents to her. At first, she tried very hard to convince Buck to meet them, thinking that maybe, after all the neglect and the trauma, they could attempt to be a real family.

 

As time went by though, therapy stripped away the illusion pretty quickly, exposing the rotten roots of a family tree that was probably never meant to grow tall and strong. Maddie finally realised how bad their parents fucked the both of them up. So, now she shares Buck’s sentiment on the matter and that’s probably why she doesn’t want their parents anywhere near her family.

 

Buck genuinely appreciates Maddie taking his side. He finds it comforting that she still watches out for him and wants to protect him from hurting again.

 

But even now, Buck can’t help thinking that Jee shouldn’t have to pay for their wrongdoings. It doesn’t sit right by him to deny her the experience of having loving grandparents only because they failed them. He saw how sweet and attentive they are with Jee and Buck doesn’t want to get in between that.

 

He’s aware that Maddie hates to see them because of the trauma she had too, but he knows that her distaste is fuelled by what he went through because of them. Buck figures that if he wasn’t in the picture, his sister probably wouldn’t be so upset about it.

 

They’re awful parents, of course, but maybe they could do better with a niece, loving and pampering her like she deserves. As long as he steers away from them during their visits, things should be fine.

 

They argued over this a couple of times already and Maddie has been unmovable. Evidently, things haven’t changed much since last week, when he went to her house for dinner and tea, but ended up with a crying sister in his arms and an extremely bad migraine that deprived him of a good night of sleep.

 

Enough, Mom. I don’t want to talk right now. Have a good night.”

 

Maddie slams her phone onto counter, shoulders trembling in rage as she closes her eyes to calm herself down, breath ragged and uneven. Chim falters for a moment, then he reaches for her face in a matter of seconds, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Buck looks away, not wanting to intrude in the moment as his sister basks into her husband’s soothing embrace.

 

“I’m alright. I’ll be outside in a moment.”

 

Chim nods, kisses her temple, and pats Buck’s shoulder on his way out, eyes pleading. He knows Chim doesn’t want them to fight again, but Maddie is already watching him, jaw tight, as if she’s already bracing for disappointment. So, Buck figures he could try talking some sense into her anyway.

 

“I’m not going to let them win.”

 

“Maddie…” Buck sighs, stepping closer. “They’re still her grandparents –“

 

“No. I know what you’re going to say, Buck.” She cuts in, sharp, her voice tense. “But after everything, you can’t honestly expect me to give them a –“

 

“She deserves to know them, Mads.” Buck doesn’t intend to be so harsh, but he cannot really help it. He feels his muscles as tight as a coiled spring and the anxiety in his chest swallowing him whole.

 

“You can’t be serious.” Maddie stares at him with tears in her eyes like he’s just betrayed her.

 

“Yes, Maddie, I’m deadly serious.” His voice cracks. “It’s unfair to punish Jee and deny her the chance to have loving grandparents just because I wasn’t enough to save their son.”

 

Maddie’s eyes soften for a flicker, then crumples with pure hurt. The silence that falls on them is suffocating. It makes him feel gutted, exposed, in a smothering way. He hadn’t wanted to blurt those words out loud, acknowledging the way their parents gifted him with a life of suffering and losses.

 

He didn’t want to give Maddie more reasons to validate her ideas and hate them even more because of him. But he also knows it’s impossible to talk about them without mentioning the pain they caused him for so long. Everything is just too complicated to understand what’s the right thing to say.

 

“Jesus, Evan, you’re impossible. Why are you still defending them? Even when they ruined us for good, you –“Maddie’s voice cracks as tears spill over and guilt stings him like an arrow thrown exactly in his heart. “You think that I should risk my daughter getting hurt just to give her grandparents? You think having them around and pretend everything is fine–“

 

“Maddie.” Eddie suddenly shows up, leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest. His voice cuts through like steel wrapped in velvet. He’s quiet and watches them with a firmness Buck has always envied and appreciated at the same time. “I think Jee was calling for you. I think she needs to go to the bathroom.”

 

For a moment it looks like she wants to say something, but then she decides against it, pressing her lips in a thin line. It doesn’t take much for her to turn on her heels and go back outside without another word.

 

Buck feels like swimming in the smoke of all the bridges he keeps on burning as he grips the edge of the counter until his knuckles turn white and aching. He feels like he doesn’t know how to breathe anymore, and remorse gnaws at his insides, relentless and voracious.

 

“Buck.” Eddie cautiously takes a steps closer and laying a hand between his shoulders’ blades. Warm, grounding, reassuring. “Talk to me.”

 

Buck can’t. He feels paralyzed, his throat locked, mind dancing with ghosts born from old wounds, which were never treated properly. Suddenly, he’s sixteen again in front of his parents stabbing him with looks of disapproval and failure. He’s also twelve, begging for approval as his parents tell him how much of a disappointment he’s always been, that he should try harder. He’s five, after tripping in the backyard while playing by himself, crying out for his mom who will never show up, in her place a sister who was responsible in a way kids her age shouldn’t be. Buck is alone, in his thirties, and nothing much has changed. He’s always wrong. Always too much, still a absolute disaster.

 

One look at Eddie and the urge of biting down his skin slams back into him with the violence and devastation of a tidal wave. The same, primal need that had nearly broken him last time and screamed at him to do something, anything, to deal with the massive amount of pain inside of him.

 

“I need– I– please, Eds. Can I do it again?”

 

Eddie tenderly cradles his face and presses a kiss on the angry birthmark on his brow, slowly, reverent. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”

 

Eddie threads their fingers together then, and pulls Buck with him, guiding him down the hall, past the living room and the stairs. They end up in Bobby’s cosy bathroom and when the lock clicks shut, Buck catches himself letting out a wobbly sigh. His best friend hops onto the spacious bathroom counter, legs open, inviting, and eyes looking at him expectantly.

 

C’mere, cariño.”

 

Buck blushes a little, but obeys, stepping in between his sturdy thighs, shivering with the effort of holding himself together. Eddie immediately wraps him in his strong, safe arms, placing another tender kiss on the birthmark. Buck’s eyes dart hungrily to his tanned skin as his shirt collar slides down just enough with his movements. The pull is back, darker, and fiercer.

 

I’ve got you.” Eddie whispers, thumb stroking his cheek, his touch as light as a feather. “Wherever you need.”

 

Buck swallows hard, tracing the curve of his neck. His skin feels warm under his fingertips and on a whim, he decides he’s going to bite right there.

 

“Can I– Is here alright?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Buck leans in and gently sinks his teeth into his skin. His body relaxes after the first few bites, and everything slows down. The knot in his chest disentangles like a skein of wool and relief seeps through his veins. The faint pulse he feels under his teeth anchors him to reality.

 

Then, he presses harder until Eddie’s breath stutters and a sweet sound spills free. Eddie pulls him closer, one hand drawing shapes on his back, the other buried in his curls. Buck sobs as he clings and bites harder, leaving a more visible mark, teeth grazing the reddish skin until the storm inside of him subsides, easing into a placid rain.

 

When he finally pulls back after a while, shivering, he presses his lips on the angry mark he left. His eyes drift close and his forehead finds a home in the curve of Eddie’s shoulder, still a little embarrassed and unable to look at him.

 

“Sorry.” Buck murmurs. “I left a mark. I shouldn’t –“

 

“It’s alright.” Eddie gently interrupts him. “I don’t mind.”

 

“I’m tired of ruining everything.”

 

“You don’t ruin.” His best friend nuzzles his damp cheek, voice fierce and soft at once. “You heal. You care deeply and love even harder. You always try to find the good even in people who don’t deserve it. You’re more than enough and you’re not expendable. None of this shit is your fault.”

 

The words sink deep and melts Buck’s entire body. He clings tighter, arms around Eddie’s neck, breathing him in as Eddie holds him just as tight. Buck feels like a puddle now in his best friend’s arms and he almost falls asleep right there, with Eddie carding through his hair, pressing kisses on his temple and whispering reassurances that soothe his loud mind and troubled soul. They stay like that for what seem hours, the world outside still moving on, turning on its axis without them.

 

Eventually, someone softly knocks at the bathroom’s door and Athena’s rich voice comes through.

 

“Boys. There’s more food if you feel like eating.” Her tone is careful, safe.

 

Eddie looks at him with a silent question in his eyes and Buck nods slowly. They untangle their limbs, but Eddie presses a firm kiss to his cheek and takes his hand. When they open the door, Athena takes in the sight – hands clasped, Eddie’s rumpled shirt, Buck’s bloodshot eyes – and offers a supportive smile.

 

“Take your time. No rush.”

 

Then, she leaves as Eddie squeezes his hand. Tight, steady.

 

“Don’t let go.” Buck blurts, looking anywhere but him. Eddie lifts their tangled hands to his lips and kisses the back of Buck’s, smiling sweetly.  

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

 

    3.

 

Movie nights at Eddie’s are probably Buck’s favourite part of the week. They don’t have fixed days because it depends on their shifts, but they always try to make it happen at least twice a week. Chris usually chooses the movie or the TV show, Buck takes care of the snacks, and Eddie sets up the streaming service while piling up a ridiculous number of blankets and pillows that they never actually use. Inevitably, they end up sharing the same huge, soft plaid – the red one with straw hats all over it – whilst the pillows are discarded to the floor by a grumbling Eddie in his quest to find a comfortable position on the couch.

 

Chris always snuggles next to Buck, ignoring his father’s fake pout, even sticking his tongue out to him. Then, they both tease Eddie and their snickers blend together until Eddie rolls his eyes, sighing loudly and dramatic before settling beside them.

 

His arm always starts draped casually along the back of the couch, and by the end of the movie it has slipped around Buck’s shoulders like it belongs there. Buck leans into him every time without an ounce of shame while petting Chris’ hair to give himself something to do and ignore the yearning to touch his best friend back.

 

Since Buck sits in the middle, he ends up with the bowls of snacks balanced on his lap – Eddie’s favourite caramel popcorn and classic Pringles, which are Buck and Chris’ shared guilty pleasure. This way everyone can reach them easily enough during the movie.

 

What actually happens is that Chris shamelessly wolfs down all the chips, leaving Buck and Eddie to share the popcorns alone because he doesn’t like them. So, his and Eddie’s hand accidentally brush an embarrassingly number of times and he’s grateful the TV’s dim flare is the only source of light in the room. This way he can hide the blush covering his face at every touch of skin without making a fool of himself.

 

On the coffee table Buck places three mugs of tea: peppermint for him and Chris, black for Eddie. The mugs are part of a family matching set with cute, little animals Eddie brought a couple of years ago during Chris’ Zoo phase. They had to bring him there at least once a week to make him satisfied. Buck cherishes the memory of all the weekends spent with them watching the animals, keeping close to his heart Chris’ awe-filled grin and Eddie’s fond, happy smile.

 

Nights like these are soft and so domestic, that Buck wishes they could last forever. He forgets about reality for a while, problems fading into the background. It feels like being wrapped in their own happy bubble, which no one can’t disrupt or taint. Chris rambles about the movie, connecting dots Buck would’ve probably missed, and Eddie jokes around, laughing hard and so carefree and beautiful that Buck thinks it’s a shame he doesn’t gets to hear it every day. Besides, thanks to these movie sessions he finally understands most of the pop culture references their team throws around and it makes him pleased.

 

Sometimes, when it’s not a school night, they watch two movies or several episodes in a raw. But Chris barely makes it to the end of the second one, head lolling on Buck’s shoulder and face squished on the fabric of his shirt. He falls asleep draped across him like he’s been doing since he was little and Buck holds him firmly, moving around until he thinks Chris’ comfortable enough and won’t wake up with his back hurting.

 

Soon after, Buck drifts off to, never getting to see the ending of the movie, which Eddie will explain to him in the morning over breakfast. Usually, after taking Chris to bed, Eddie nudges Buck so they can make up the couch where he usually crashes when he sleeps there.

 

Sometimes, though, Buck ends up in Eddie’s bed instead. When it happens it always comes with some casual remarks on how the couch will make Buck’s muscles sore and wreck his back. They never mention it the next day, adding that to the long list of things that aren’t much platonic – but somehow, for them, are. At least, that’s what Buck tells himself to trick his heart into cancelling the hope of his love being required. Something, which is kind of impossible considering his best friend is straight.  

 

Tonight, though, something is different. Buck can feel it in the air as a slight tension seeps in the non-existent space between their pressed-up sides. It keeps him wide awake as everyone forgets that Peter Parker is Spiderman on the screen, his skin tingling because of the effort of stay still for too long. When Chris falls asleep and Eddie carries him to his bedroom, Buck rubs at the aching knot in his neck with a grimace on his face. Eddie comes back, looks at him unimpressed and tilts his head towards the hallway.

 

“C’mon. I don’t want to hear you complain about it in the morning.”

 

Buck tries to protest. He really does, but Eddie’s already heading for the bathroom to get changed and tonight Buck doesn’t have the strength to pretend he doesn’t want to sleep next to him. He’s greedy and selfish and avidly takes every little thing Eddie wants to offer him. So, he goes after Eddie thinking he’d follow him anywhere, right to the pits of hell and back, like an Orpheus too enamoured to let go of his Eurydice.

 

Their bathroom routine flows as if rehearsed: one brushes his teeth while the other changes into an old t-shirt and sweatpants and vice versa. Buck lingers over his five-step skincare as Eddie applies the single cream Buck bullied him into buying. In the morning, Buck will scold him for skipping sunscreen. Eddie will roll his eyes, both amused and resigned, before letting a grumpy Buck rub the product onto his face, ranting about the importance of using sunscreen every day.

 

Once they’re in bed, lying next to each other, Buck feels the now familiar pull nagging at him, but it quickly becomes a dull humming in the background as sleep starts washing over him. The bed smells like Eddie – clean soap and vanilla. It’s ridiculously comforting and Buck burrows his face more into the pillow, drowsy. As he falls into slumber, Buck feels something brushing over the side of his face, fleeting and soft, but he’s too far gone to know whether it’s real or just a fragment of his own imagination.

 

The nightmare catches him by surprise, dragging him under like a vehement riptide without any kind of mercy. Gunshots ring loudly in his ears, a metallic taste spreads on his tongue and his skin feels slick and sticky with sweat. Most of his body is covered in someone else’s blood and a scream gets trapped in his throat like a lump he cannot swallow. Buck trashes awake, drenched, and gasps sharply. He’s clawing at the sheets under him, and his chest feels so constricted he’s unable to breathe properly.

 

“Hey, you’re safe, baby.” Eddie’s voice is as steady as his hands gripping his shoulders to ground him. “I’ve got you.”

 

The room snaps back into focus as he tries to swallow, his vision slightly blurred because of the tears falling down his cheeks. Eddie’s eyes shine like a beam of light, helping him to find a way through the dark void he fell into.

 

Buck presses trembling palms against his best friend’s chest, desperate to feel the regular pulse of his heart, needing to ascertain that Eddie is alive and not bleeding out again in his arms.

 

“You’re – I thought that you –“

 

“I’m here.” Eddie handles him like a book he read so many times that he learned all the chapters by heart. He takes his face between his hands like he knows the subtexts hanging on every words he says. He looks at him as if he’s found the foreshadowing of his life, knowing what to expect and how to take care of him. He covers Buck’s hands with his own, holding them there over his heartbeat. “Alive and breathing. Right here.”

 

A part of Buck is relieved to feel his pulse under his palms and the warmth radiating from his skin. But all of this doesn’t feel strong enough to make his panic fade. Buck needs to bite to know it’s real, to sink his teeth into his skin to dissipate the doubts and bring him back to reality.

 

“I – Eds, I –“

 

His voice cracks because he cannot ask him again. It wouldn’t be fair. But Eddie doesn’t make him ask. Not this time.

 

Instead, he slowly lays them down on the bed, pulling Buck over him and sliding an arm around his waist to keep him close to his chest. Buck ends up sprawled across him, his face tucked in the crook of his neck, their legs tangled together. Eddie starts scraping his nape with gentle fingers, nuzzling against his curls.

 

“You don’t have to ask, Buck. Just take anything you need.”

 

Buck exhales, releasing some of the tension collected in his body. He brushes a finger alongside the collar of Eddie’s shirt and nudges it down a little, exposing skin. Buck lets out another shaky breath before leaving a tentative kiss on the skin of the hollow of his collarbone.

 

“Is this okay?”

 

“Always.” Eddie whispers, unwavering.

 

Something inside Buck finally unravels. He lets go and fully welcomes the craving and the hunger, forgetting about any kind of embarrassment or second thought. He places another kiss, and another and then another more before opening his mouth to gently nibble at the skin around the bone. Then, a firmer bite, steadier, less desperate than the last time it happened. Even if it stays gentle and delicate, Buck feels the craving lessening and his body settling in the comfort left in its wake.

 

Eddie hums low, sliding his warm hands under his shirt to stroke slow patterns along his back. Buck shivers at the contact as the pull ebbs and the tension in his body eases with every touch. He proceeds to soothe the already fading marks he’s made with soft kisses, pressing his forehead into his chest, breathing in his reassuring, sweet scent. After a couple of minutes of stillness and quiet, he lets Eddie moving them until they’re spooning in a more comfortable position.

 

“Thanks.” Buck tells him hoarsely. Eddie laces their fingers resting on his stomach and firmly kisses his shoulder through the fabric of the shirt he’s wearing. It’s one of Eddie’s old work shirts with Diaz stitched across the back, which Buck loves more than he should because it makes him feel like belonging to him.

 

“You don’t have to thank me. Just breathe. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

 

So, Buck does just that, curling into Eddie’s warmth, grounded by the lingering taste of his skin on his tongue and the solid weight of Eddie’s limbs tangled up with his. And when sleep comes again, Buck succumbs to it without restraints, safe and sound in the arms of the only person that feels like home.

 

 

   4.

 

After a couple of weeks of frantic calls and stressful therapy sessions, Buck is finally able to catch a break. So, that Friday night, after a rather complicated 12-hour shift, Chim proposes to hang out at their usual bar near the firehouse for a couple of drinks before calling it a night.

 

Of course, everyone agrees, all of them feeling the need to unwind and loosen up without thinking about anything work-related.

 

Actually, Buck doesn’t feel much like drinking beer in a crowded place with too much noise surrounding him. A faint headache already stings behind his eyes, and he would rather go home, drink hot tea, and curl up with Eddie on the couch while pretending to watch a rerun of some silly show on TV.

 

Since he can’t really do that without exposing his feelings and ruining his friendship forever, he figures hitting the bar with the team is better than being alone in his loft with only his migraine and his unrequited love for company. At least here, he can press himself against Eddie in the booth and blame the alcohol in his veins for it.

 

 

When they arrive, the bar is already packed enough that Buck can barely hear himself think over the noise. The whole place is buzzing, alive with loud laughter, voices overlapping, and pop music blasting from the speakers. Their usual booth in the far corner is taken, so they’re forced to choose another. Ravi makes the choice for everyone, settling in the one next to the counter swarming with many different kind of people merrily ordering drinks – easier access to tequila makes Ravi very happy.

 

Bobby offers the first round of the night. Buck sips cheerfully on his light, colourful drink, leaning into Eddie’s side as he listens to the relaxed conversation his friends have settled on. They’re talking about a movie Buck has never watched, so he doesn’t get much of it, but it’s fine anyway – Eddie explains him the plot in low whispers, offering just enough details to help him follow along.

 

Every time he leans in, warm breath tickles his skin, sending shivers down Buck’s spine and making his face heat up. When he catches Hen’s unimpressed smirk across the table, he quickly darts his eyes away, trying to ignore her. Tonight, he can at least blame the blush on the alcohol too.

 

“I’d say let’s get another round.” Chim claps his hands once and points at Eddie. “Your turn, Diaz.”

 

“But he’s not even drinking!” Buck blurts out. “You go, Chim.”

 

He doesn’t want Eddie to move away, because that would mean no more warmth, hence no more touching and he absolutely can’t have that. Not when he’s so comfortable he could drift off right here on his best friend’s shoulder and finally rest a little. If Eddie stays, maybe he’ll even wrap his arm around him, the way he does sometimes to prevent Buck from hurting his back because he’s that nice.

 

But if Eddie gets up, Buck won’t get any of this and it’s not fair.

 

Sober Buck would’ve swallowed it down to avoid teasing from his friends. But tipsy Buck is needy, whiny, and unhinged enough to fight for it.

 

“Nope. I already covered last round.” Chim cheerfully. “It’s Eddie’s turn!”

 

“Don’t go!” Buck pouts, shamelessly attaching himself onto Eddie who looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh in his face. “Please, I’ll be sad if you go.”

 

“Aw. You don’t want to let Eddie go. How cute.” Ravi teases him, smirking, and Buck hates him with a passion, instantly adding him to his list of mortal enemies, right under Chim’s name.

 

“I think you can survive a couple of minutes of distance, Buckaroo.” Hen adds for good measure, making everyone laugh. Buck gapes in outrage, pouting harder. Her name is going down on that list faster than the speed of light.

 

“It’s unfair. Don’t leave me with them.” He hides his face into his friend’s shoulder, squeezing his arms possessively around his waist. Eddie’s hand finds his curls automatically as the other curles around Buck’s joined hands against his side, thumb stroking lazily his skin. The tenderness of his gesture and the familiarity of it nearly wrings a whimper out of him. How he’s supposed to let him go now? “They suck and make fun of me. Not Bobby, though. He’s cool.”

 

“Thanks, buddy.” Bobby laughs, shaking his head and looking at Buck with the fondness of a father a little exasperated with his son’s antics.

 

Everyone chuckles again with amusement, and tipsy Buck doesn’t get it. This isn’t funny at all. It’s pure tragedy. Eddie cannot absolutely leave his side, or he’ll basically die.

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.” Eddie’s voice is light, fingers gently threading through his hair.

 

Don’t care.” Buck’s muffled sulk earns another round of entertained laughter.

 

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone drop – not loud, not sharp, but just stern enough to make Buck’s skin heat and his breath hitch. He squirms as something inside of him clenches and he feels a little confused, but also thrilled. Then, Eddie leans down, lips brushing the shell of his ear as he whispers so low, he doubts anyone else could hear him. “If you let me go, I’ll make it up to you.”

 

“You promise?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay.” Buck melts, giving in instantly, his heart stuttering.

 

“Good boy.” Eddie breathes before righting himself with a neutral expression, like he didn’t just ignite Buck’s entire soul.

 

His entire body flushes so hot he gets a little dizzy, embarrassment and exhilaration buzzing under his skin. He lets go, fingers twitching as Eddie slips free and stands, calm and collected, an easy smile on his lips as he heads toward the counter.

 

The table goes quiet for a second, long enough for Buck to realise they probably noticed something in the way he reacted to what Eddie told him. Hen quirks an eyebrow, Ravi smirks, and Chim just looks too exasperated to comment. Bubby is sighing into his drink, like he’s just decided he’s going to mind his own business.

 

“What?” he feels everyone’s eyes on him and pouts to keep up appearances, getting back to his drink. “I only let him go because he promised me ice-cream later. I still don’t like you.”

 

For God’s sake. Sure. That’s totally normal. Ice-cream. Sure.” Ravi looks like frustrated enough to be a second away from yelling something at him, but in the end he just deflates. “So, what were we saying?”

 

And with that his friends pick up another conversation, but Buck really can’t focus. Inside he feels unsettled, and with too much alcohol in his veins to think too hard about what has just happened and why the authority in Eddie’s voice and his praises made him like that.

 

So, his mind gets easily distracted by the fact that he misses Eddie’s warmth and his eyes scan around to find him in the crown, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. He feels restless without him, craving his presence like a plant reaching for sunlight. He’s aware their co-dependency has gotten worse lately, but tipsy Buck doesn’t really give a fuck about it.

 

Then, he sees it – sees her. A drop-dead gorgeous woman with blond hair and a tight dress hugging her every curve. She’s got a flirtatious smile on her red, sin-slick lips and leans slightly towards Eddie, who’s still waiting for their drinks. She’s laughing as her hand lands on his arm. Eddie, polite as ever, smiles back, engaging in a conversation that looks casual.

 

Something hot and ugly spikes in Buck’s chest, making his teeth ache and his hands twitch. He grips his glass until his knuckles whiten. The pull suddenly comes back in full force, overwhelming and breath-stealing. It smashes him hard like an earthquake shaking every particle of his body. He’s so busy glaring at the woman he doesn’t even realize Hen is talking to him.

 

“You’ll break it.”

 

“What?”

 

“You’ll break the glass, Buckaroo.”

 

Buck snaps back to reality and blinks, loosening his grip with a startled sound and gulps, avoiding his friends’ eyes all pinned to him.

 

“You okay, son?” Bobby asks him with concern.

 

“Yeah, I –“

 

Before he can finish, Buck’s gaze darts again to Eddie like a magnet, and sees the woman giggling harder, her hand squeezing Eddie’s arm as she stares down at him with blatant lust. Buck’s blood boils with jealousy and his stomach churns. He knows he has no right. He shouldn’t care. Eddie is free to flirt and date any woman he wants. But tipsy Buck is selfish and greedy and doesn’t give a fuck about it. So, he stands up and blindly stomps towards his best friend.

 

“Eds.” He wraps his arms around Eddie from behind, slotting their bodies together, chin on his shoulder. He brushes the side of his jaw with lips still damp from his last sip of the vodka thingy he’s been nursing all evening and feels Eddie lean into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Why are you taking this long? I’m bored without you.”

 

“I was gone for less than five minutes, Buck.” Eddie looks amused and quite content to indulge in Buck’s antics. So, tipsy Buck feels entitled to keep his act up, which to him isn’t much of an act to begin with, and sulks, squeezing him tighter.

 

“Well, I was missing you.” Buck huffs, making him chuckle with fondness.

 

The woman clears her throat undoubtedly annoyed, and Buck finally turns to acknowledge her.

 

“Who’s this?” Buck asks, frowning. He isn’t usually this rude, but tipsy Buck is blunt and cares very little for consequences. Besides, she didn’t have to touch Eddie that much, right? So, tipsy Buck decides she deserves it anyway.

 

“She’s Meghan. A friend.” Meghan looks quite offended at Eddie’s words and narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“And you are?” She asks Buck with irritation sparkling her tight smile.

 

“I’m Buck.” Buck grins and softly kisses Eddie’s cheek. “His partner.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.” Buck knows he’s being a little shit. Technically, they’re partners at work, but Meghan doesn’t really need to know the truth. Especially when Eddie doesn’t bother correcting him and fuels the act instead, interlacing their fingers and smacking a loud kiss on Buck’s jaw.

 

“I’m sorry. He gets a little possessive when he drinks.” Eddie says, lips twitching.

 

“Shut up.” Buck pinches his side, making him giggle. He marvels at that. He’s just made him giggle.

 

They’re definitely at ‘married-couple banter’ level now and tipsy Buck is so, so delighted he stifles a chuckle into his shoulder, chest aching with happiness.

 

“Well I’m sorry. I didn’t know-“

 

“It’s fine.” Buck interjects Meghan before mustering up his finest fake smile. “I know it’s tempting considering how beautiful he is.”

 

Eddie blushes immediately and playfully pinches Buck’s arm, making him snicker. Yeah, tipsy Buck decides – ‘married couple banter’ ultimate level. He’d say they’re even better at it then Chim and Maddie who are actually married.

 

Meghan just shakes her head and seems to be about to say something, but the bartender calls Eddie for their order. They excuse themselves and carry the drinks back to the table, where the team has obviously witnessed everything, considering the booth’s proximity to the counter.

 

Buck should worry about the fact that they’ll probably tease him mercilessly next time they see each other, but tipsy Buck pretends nothing ever happened. He plops down next to his best friend, presses his side into him, and happily nibbles at the black straw of his new drink when Eddie squeezes his thigh harder.

 

“So.” Chin raises an eyebrow. “Anything you two wanna tell us?”

 

“Nope.” Buck grins, and Eddie shrugs, sipping his cola to hide a smirk, eyes sparkling with amusement.

 

“I feel like I’m going insane.” Ravi mutters, looking so exasperated right now that Buck feels kind of sorry for him and wonders what’s wrong with him. He almost takes him off from his list of mortal enemies. Almost. He’s still debating on that.

 

“I know.” Hen is patting his back with understanding. “They’re terrible.”

 

“Okay.” Bobby clears his throat, kindly changing the subject. “I was thinking about hosting a barbecue for Athena’s birthday.”

 

Buck takes a mental note to thank Bobby for saving him from the embarrassment, but tipsy Buck just settles into his seat, huge grin still on his face, and forgets about it in like two seconds, too distracted by Eddie’s hand casually resting on his thigh.

 

He feels a bit like an idiot, but there’s nothing much that can be done about it. So, for now, he just slides closer, deserting his drink for the sake of grabbing Eddie’s hand under the table, threading their fingers together. Eddie absentmindedly brushes his thumb over the skin, and Buck sighs, thinking he could happily die right in this moment and still blame it on the alcohol.

 

A couple of hours later, he’s definitely blaming it on the alcohol.

 

Back at Eddie’s place – because of course tipsy Buck wanted to follow him home – the night has settled into something quieter. Chris is at a friend’s house for a sleepover, so it’s just the two of them now, lazily sprawled on the couch. The hum of the TV fills the silence, two untouched glasses of cold water sweating on the coffee table in front of them.

 

Buck feels terribly tense after what happened earlier, and the urge to bite into his best friend’s skin strongly claws at him, taking up most of the space in his head, demanding release. Fiddling with the hem of his sweater, he keeps on sneaking swift glances at his best friend every two seconds. Eddie’s eyes appear trained on the episode of The Office they put on – the one where Micheal Scott visits Pam’s art exhibition and buys the painting picturing Scranton’s office.

 

Normally, Buck loves watching this show with Eddie, laughing together at the ridiculous jokes, and getting emotional over the same scenes. Tonight, though, his mind is too consumed by the thought of Eddie to pay attention to anything else. By the way his best friend went along with the act he put up earlier in front of that woman. In the back of his mind, Buck wonders why Eddie agreed so easily, and a dangerous flicker of hope curls in his chest, butterflies scattering like moth to a flame in his stomach. Tipsy Buck would’ve let it grow, but he’s lucid than ever now and tries to stamp it as soon as it sparks.

 

In the end, he terribly fails because Eddie notices. Of course, he notices.

 

Out of the blue, he grabs him by the hips and pulls him right onto his lap. Buck yelps, startled by the sudden movement, and braces himself on Eddie’s broad shoulders, heart slamming against his ribs.

 

“Wha –“

 

“You’re thinking too much.” Eddie murmurs, grounding him with the weight of his hands firmly pressing on his thighs, heat seeping through the fabric of his sweatpants. His voice is a little rough, but overall stable. Then his mouth curves, sharp and teasing. “What’s got you so worked up, huh? Still thinking about that woman flirting with me?”

 

Buck’s ears go red instantly. “What– That’s not – Why should I care about that?”

 

C’mon, Buck.” Eddie tilts his head, eyes glinting with amusement. His voce dips so low Buck’s stomach painfully flips. “Do I have to remind you how you put your arms around me? How you growled at Meghan for –“

 

“You remember her name?” Buck squawks, only realising what he’s just said after noticing Eddie’s pleased smirk. “Shit. I didn’t mean–“

 

Cute.” Eddie’s tone turns tender, intimate. “I bet you wanted to bite me right in front of her, didn’t you?”

 

The words make Buck’s breath stutter, his throat dry, chest tight.

 

I – God. You’re…I hate –Buck splutters, but the protest dies when Eddie’s thumb rubs a slow circle against his hip, his smile maddeningly soft. “…you.”

 

“Well, it’s just the two of us now. And I did promise you that I’d make it up to you.” Buck blushes even more, avoiding his eyes as Eddie lets out a soft chuckle. Then, he tilts Buck’s chin up to make their eyes meet, looking serious now, tenderly so. “Just go for it, Buck.”

 

“Go for what?” Buck manages, his throat suddenly dry, every nerve on fire. He blinks down at him, breath caught, heat speeding like a freight train on an unbreakable schedule.

 

“I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.” Eddie’s gaze locks on his, his eyes dark and knowing, lips quirking faintly. “Just take what you want, cariño.”

 

Those words crash over Buck like a bolt of lightning, searing him alive for a second time in his life. His whole body trembles with a need so desperate, so excruciating he can’t hold back anymore, making him yield, completely undone. Thoughts shatter and restraints evaporates as he leans in, finally nibbling at the side of Eddie’s neck.

 

The second his teeth graze skin, he exhales, relief floods him, breaking the dam holding his insides together. It’s like every little part of him had been yearning for this, and now it all clicks into its rightful place. Then, he bites harder, a sound breaking free from his chest – half-whimper, half-growl – and clutches Eddie’s shoulders in a death grip, as if he might fall apart without touching him.

 

Eddie gasps, loud and sweet, clamping tighter around Buck’s hips. Buck presses open-mouthed kisses along the curve of his throat, starved. He licks over the marks, avidly, before nipping again. It’s desperate, greedy, and so, so hot that Buck feels like running into a wildfire, hot flames licking his body. Eddie’s skin tastes like sin on his tongue, addicting, and each sound he makes drives him further off the cliff.

 

Buck licks the strip of skin where the shoulder meets his neck, leaves wet, slack kisses alongside the jaw, then sucks on the tender flash of his neck as Eddie tilts his head back, granting him more access. He whimpers breathily and holds him steady, one hand grasping his nape to keep him there. His breath hitches, chest heaving, and Buck can’t stop. He won’t as Eddie’s hands slides to the back of his neck, holding him there, exactly where he belongs.

 

Buck leaves bruises, painting Eddie’s skin like a constellation only he knows the shape of, irrationally possessive, feral, like if he leaves enough marks, no one will ever think they have a chance with Eddie ever again. The thought terrifies Buck as much as it consumes him, and yet, in that moment suspended in time, he takes. And Eddie – sweet, safe, beautiful Eddie, lets him.

 

At some point Buck grinds down on him without even realizing it. The rush of heat that gathers in his stomach right after makes him jolts, shame kicking in hard and unforgiving. He pulls back, horrified at himself. “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t – Eddie –“

 

Don’t.” Eddie breathes, dark pupils blown wide. His voice is wrecked, and his grip is iron on Buck’s hips. “Please don’t stop, baby.”

 

The endearment tears through him, leaving him winded. And Buck doesn’t stop.

 

He bites harder, drags his teeth along his soft skin like a brush painting abstract shapes on a blank canvas as his hips desperately move against Eddie’s. He licks and bites until they’re both panting, clinging, grunts and moans filling the quiet house. Eddie’s hips thrust up, setting up the pace as Buck meets him down with the same hunger, frantically rubbing against his clothed lap, whines loud and breathless.

 

Eddie grasps his waist so hard Buck is sure there will be marks there, too. The thought of carrying Eddie’s fingerprints on his skin makes him shudder, fastening their already hysterical rhythm.

 

“‘m close –“Buck grits out, wrecked, and suddenly feels like a teenager all over again. The friction between them is deliciously maddening and when Eddie’s hands slide boldly down to cup his ass cheeks and press him harder against him, Buck chokes on a gasp. “Fuck, Eddie.”

 

“Is this alright?” Eddie murmurs, lips brushing Buck’s jaw, voice rough but still gentle. He grips impossibly tighter, guiding Buck’s wild ride on his lap with strong, solid hands. Buck feels so overwhelmed, the heat burning him alive, that he can’t even manage to find his voce, too dazed by the rush of pleasure.

 

Hearing no verbal response, Eddie slows them to a halt, hands holding him still, and Buck whines at the sudden loss, glassy eyes half-open. Eddie angles his chin to meet his gaze. “Tell me, baby.”

 

Something in Eddie’s tone cuts through the haze, sharp enough to make him falter. Buck recognises an order when he hears one. The slick heat at the pit of his stomach coils harder, his pants stretched unbearably tight around his arousal. His flushed face must give him away because Eddie smirks like he knows exactly what’s going on in his head.

 

Buck ducks his head, wiggles his hips restlessly, desperate to move, but Eddie keeps him pinned to his lap, annoyingly still.

 

Please.” Buck cries, trying to dive back into Eddie’s neck, only to whine louder when Eddie denies him. Again. Buck feels like he might go insane if Eddie doesn’t do something – anything – like right now.

 

Please what?”

 

’ease” Buck groans, feeling delirious.

 

“I asked you a question, baby.” Eddie’s eyes are dark, commanding. The steel in his voice wrapped up in soft silk. He thumbs at Buck’s bottom lip, teasing, and Buck chases after it, almost biting. “Be a good boy and use your voice for me.”

 

“Fuck.” Buck shamelessly moans, breathless.

 

“So,” Eddie’s smirk widens a little as he finally palms his ass again, pulling him down, guiding him back into their wild, frantic rhythm. “Is this alright, baby?”

 

It’s filthy, delirious, and Buck has never experienced something this addicting. He wants it so bad he doesn’t even hesitate, nodding hysterically, shameless, his face smashed into the curve of Eddie’s neck.

 

Buck feels like he wants to obey to his every word, every command, like a soldier blindly following his general into battle – like he’d even die if Eddie asked him to. He doesn’t know what to do with this aching want, but he can’t dwell on it, not now, not with Eddie thrusting up hard beneath him, purposeful, devastating.

 

Words, baby.” Eddie demands.

 

“Yeah.” Buck moans raggedly. “Yes.”

 

“I‘m close too,” Eddie admits, his voice a low rasp, wrecked with desire. “So close, baby.”

 

The pet name undoes Buck as tears sting his eyes, a few of them spilling out. He sucks on his neck again, stifling a moan against his hot, burning skin. It doesn’t take much after that to finish what they’ve started. The rhythm grows wilder, almost tribal, and sloppier, until Buck tenses and comes apart, Eddie tumbling right after him with a guttural grunt.

 

Buck finally collapses against Eddie’s chest, panting, as strong arms curl around him. Eddie kisses the corner of his mouth reverently, then buries his nose deep into his curls, hands soothingly rubbing slow circles on his back under the shirt as they quietly catch their breath. It should feel awkward, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels inevitable.

 

The morning after finds them spooning under the soft sheets of Eddie’s bed. For a fleeting, moment, still half-asleep, Buck thinks it’s a dream. He turns, borrowing closer, wanting to squish his face into Eddie’s chest to hide from the sunlight streaming through the blinds. Then, he cracks open his eyes and catches sight of the red and purple marks mapping Eddie’s neck like a constellation, his handiwork written into his skin.

 

Buck freezes and his stomach lurches.

 

Oh my god.” He murmurs, horror engulfing him. Then, he it hits him – the memories of everything they’d done after flooding his mind like water spilling from a dam – and lets out a frustrated groan as panic raises higher. His mind starts spiralling and his heart sprints like a gateway car. What if he ruined everything? What if Eddie’s disgusted by what happened and never want to see him again? Last time he checked, his best friend was straight. What the actual fuck.

 

He’s halfway about to bolt from the bed, from the house, maybe the entire city to hide somewhere far away and never show his face again, when Eddie catches his wrist and tugs him firmly back to his chest.

 

“Stop spiralling, Buck.” Eddie’s voice is still rough with sleep. “Everything’s fine.”

 

“But I – Yesterday we – You’re straight!” Buck hides his burning face in his hands, humiliated. He surrenders to the fact that his best friend won’t likely let him out of his embrace anytime soon. Eddie laughs, warm and deep, right into his curls.

 

“You seriously believe I’m straight? Even after coming in my pants like a lousy teenager because of you?”

 

Buck groans again, refusing to look at him, still sticking his face into his hands. “Okay, Eddie. But I mean – I wrecked you. You’re full of marks –“

 

“Relax, cariño. You won’t hear any complaints from me.” Eddie chuckles, low and fond.

 

“They’re everywhere on your neck! Everyone will see.” Buck looks mortified as he stares at the marks he’s left through his open fingers, cursing at himself.

 

Good.” Eddie smirks, unbothered, teasing. “Maybe this way they’ll finally get the hint, and you won’t have to be a little shit and scare them away.”

 

Buck’s jaw drops, his cheeks going scarlet. “Eddie!”

 

“What?” Eddie shrugs, feigning innocence, but there’re nothing innocent in the way his eyes glints. “Not my fault you went feral on me.”

 

“Okay!” Buck shrills, stomping towards the closet, and yanks out the black turtleneck Eddie owns but never wears. He shoves it at Eddie’s waiting hands, utterly embarrassed. “This is going to save you from everyone’s teasing. You can thank me later.”

 

Eddie pulls the fabric over his head slowly, deliberately, watching Buck with that infuriating little spark in his eyes. “See? Problem solved. Now stop pouting and get back here.”

 

“We should go, Eds. We’ll be late –“


Buck.”

 

Buck startles, throat suddenly dry, immediately catching the authority underling his voice. His cheeks flush, stuttering. “W-what?”

 

“You heard me. Get back here” Eddie pats the bed next to him like it’s an order, smirking as he watches Buck blushing harder. “Now. We don’t have all day, baby.”

 

Buck wishes he wouldn’t be so weak when he shamelessly obeys him, climbing back beside him on the bed.

 

Good boy.” Eddie murmurs with a grin, pressing a kiss to Buck’s temple before laying them back down. “We won’t be late, don’t worry. Just five more minutes.”

 

And Buck – flustered and reeling – can’t imagine what the hell is going to even happen after this.

 

 

  1.  

 

They don’t talk about it. Buck expects things to slide back to the way they were before, but he probably spoke too soon – nothing really changes between them, yet everything feels different.

 

A couple of days later, Buck basically moves into Eddie’s house after a very nice dinner at Abuela’s. They’re on their way back with Chris snoring softly in the backseat. Buck is ranting, as usual, complaining about needing to go back to his apartment to get some stuff when Eddie just shrugs and tells him “I think you should just take all your stuff and move in with us, Buck”.

 

Simple, matter of fact, as if it was inevitable. Buck feels like losing most of his brain functions at that, but he agrees right away. Two days later, it takes Buck less than an hour to grab the few things he left at his loft and officially claim half of his best friend’s closet.

 

If before they did almost everything together, now their schedules are so intertwined that it’s impossible to deny their co-dependency. And if they were already touchy, already gravitating toward each other like magnets, now it’s constant. Shoulders bumping, Buck’s palm brushing the small of Eddie’s back when passing, Eddie’s hand lingering on the back of Buck’s neck like it belongs there.

 

Hands holding tight while driving back home after a very long day, lips brushing cheeks in the dark of their bedroom to kiss each other goodnight. Exhausted limbs slotting together like a two pieces of a puzzle during the night, unconsciously, like their bodies were made solely for that, Eddie resting his head on his lap as Buck plays with his hair on the couch, talking softly after putting Chris to bed.

 

Buck isn’t sure whether their friends and families have noticed anything, but from Hen’s knowing looks, Maddie’s amused comments and Chim and Ravi’s less exasperated looks, he suspects they must have drawn their own conclusions. Strangely enough, he doesn’t really care – too busy marvelling at the way Eddie clings to him, like gravity itself is set on keeping them together.

 

Still, Buck doesn’t know what they are now that the blurred lines have finally been crossed. They should really talk about it, but Buck’s scared to disrupt the delicate balance they’ve managed to reach with so much effort. So, he just waits.

 

One of the things that actually feels new now that Buck lives with Eddie and Chris is grocery shopping. They’d done it occasionally before, but it was never the real deal. Now it’s totally different. Walking into the store with Eddie pushing the cart, bored out of his mind, while Buck handles the list they’ve written together, feels domestic, blissful, enough to make his heart thump like crazy. It’s like the gates of heaven have opened up and somehow Buck’s been allowed to step in.

 

It might seem stupid, but these things make him feel like he finally has a home too. Like for real and not just something he made up in his head. The more he stays, the more he wants to put roots there. He wants the white picket fence, a dog running around the house, kids’ laughter in the garden as he reads a book sprawled on a swinging bench.

 

He wants to experience everything with them, grow old and ugly next to Eddie as they watch Chris build a life, achieve all his dreams, be happy. These thoughts should scare him, and maybe they even do a little, considering his best friend might not want the same things.

 

Except, the way things are right now makes him hope more than he should.

 

So, yeah. Buck loves grocery shopping with Eddie. They usually start by splitting the list to be quicker, but it never actually works. Somehow, they always end up in the same aisle, mostly because of his best friend.

 

Eddie will pretend he’s forgotten which yogurt Buck likes – even though he always kept a box of it already stocked in the fridge even before Buck moved in. Or he’ll ask with a sigh which coffee brand to buy, despite always choosing the same one every time because he thinks Buck’s preference is too bland.

 

Sometimes he’ll even call Buck over to help him reach a box of granola bars placed on the top shelf when they both know he could easily get it himself. This way, their quick runs to the store inevitably turn into long detours, which end up making them delay whatever thing they had planned to do later. But they make it work. They always make it work.

 

Then, there’s the teasing. Most of the times, it used to be light-hearted banters, friends playfully ribbing each other, but now lately, especially after the whole bar thing, it has been different.

 

Now Eddie flirts. Not all the time, but enough to keep him on edge, words tripping over themselves while Eddie smirks and only relents when Buck becomes a blushing, spluttering mess. It’s a torture. A sweet, infuriating torture.

 

“Where the hell did they put it?” Buck mutters crouched low with his knees digging into the dirty tile floor. He’s scanning the bottom shelf for Chris’ favourite cereal as he hears Eddie’s familiar footsteps getting closer before the man even speaks.  

 

“Find them yet?” Eddie asks casually.

 

“Not yet – wait, here it is!” Buck says triumphantly, pulling the box free.

 

“Good job, Buck.” Eddie hums approvingly as Buck glances up with a grin on his lips, taking in the sight before him. Eddie’s leaned lazily against the cart, staring with eyes so penetrating that Buck feels suddenly warm all over. The praise makes his cheeks redden slightly and Eddie’s lips curl a little into an infuriating smirk.

 

“You know, Buck, I think you’re very pretty right now.”  Eddie drawls, voice pitched low enough to make him shiver. “Bet you’d look even better if you were on your knees just for me.”

 

Buck’s head jerks up so fast he almost smacks it on the shelf, blue eyes open wide, ears flaming red. “Eddie!”

 

“What?” Eddie’s grin is infuriatingly smug, clearly enjoying every second of watching Buck squirm. “I’m just saying – you look quite comfortable down there.”

 

Buck scowls at him, tossing the cereal into the cart harder than necessary, and marches ahead without daring to meet his best friend’s eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

Eddie only chuckles, steering the cart after him, and when he catches up, he lightly bumps their shoulders. “C’mon, Buck, don’t pout. I’ll be good now.”

 

Buck tries to come up with a smart comeback, but his throat feels too tight and his chest buzzing in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with grocery shopping.

 

It feels obvious to Buck to think that being this close to Eddie all the time would make that irrational pull to bite fade away into a distant memory. Except it doesn’t. if anything, it grows more compelling whenever he stares at the faint marks on Eddie’s neck in between calls, jaw twitching at the memory.

 

It’s all he can think about at home while having dinner with Eddie and Chris, or in the locker room at work, his eyes tracing the lean curves of Eddie’s body while getting changed. But for once, he chooses not to overthink it, letting himself bask in the warm stability Eddie offers.

 

Then, after a few weeks, it happens again, and Buck shouldn’t be that surprised.

 

The call is brutal. Too much blood, and screams, and scorching flames licking his gear, dangerously close to his sweaty skin. His dry mouth tastes awfully of metal, and his lungs are clogged with a fear that won’t leave, clinging even after the sirens die and the world is soundless, finally still again. Buck feels restless during the whole ride back to the station, too keyed-up and restless to come down from the adrenaline rush.

 

Today he managed to save a five-year-old trapped into a burning building and got hurt in the process. Buck hates that part because it forces him to face things he’d rather avoid, like his captain’s reprimands, or the dreadful smell of hospital antiseptics that always makes him want to throw up.

 

The kid had been seconds away from being crushed by a falling beam and Buck didn’t even think. He couldn’t just stand there and watch it happen. So, he ran forward, scooped the crying child up into his arms and tried to dodge the falling beam, shielding the kid with his own body.

 

On the bright side Buck protected the kid who luckily survived without a scratch. Buck didn’t get the same luck, though. His face shield cracked, cutting into the side of his jaw, and part of the beam smashed against his bad leg – the one he already injured years ago. I

 

t sent shockwaves of pain through him, making him wince at every step he took. The sting sharp and familiar feels way worse than the phantom pains he often experiences. Eddie was the one who helped him haul the child out before the building gave away, collapsing under its own weight.

 

All things considered, he’s grateful that his injury is not life-threatening, but the throbbing ache is relentless even when he’s not standing up. He’ll definitely be in a lot of pain for the next few days at least. And honestly? He doesn’t have the strength to deal with it. Exhaustion washes through him, hollowing him out. His chest is tight, and his stomach so queasy even water seems impossible to keep down.

 

The aftermath is a blur: Bobby checking in, praising his good job with approval in his eyes. Ravi patting his shoulder with a relieved smile as Hen and Chim hover close, checking his injuries with worried expressions.

 

Across the smoky wreckage, Eddie wraps the kid with a shock blanket, reassuring his parents with that soft smile Buck has no defence against. When Eddie looks back at him, his gaze burns with something Buck doesn’t dare to name.

 

Back home, Buck lets Eddie fuss over him. He doesn’t even try to reassure him that it’s alright because it’s not. They both know it. Eddie steers him in the bathroom and gently peels off his clothes after murmured consent. He opens the shower tap and makes sure the water’s warm enough before discarding his own clothes in the laundry basket they now share.

 

“C’mon, baby.” Eddie purrs as he takes his hand and pulls him under the spray. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

The water is comfortingly hot, steam curling fast around them, clouding the walls of the shower, which is small, forcing them to stay close to each other. In his slightly dazed state, Buck supposes it’s not that weird, them showering together.

 

They’ve done it before – not only at work in the stall next to each other, but every time one of them is injured, too. It’s never been sexual – it isn’t now. It’s comfort, it’s looking after each other with care. It’s a lifeboat carefully crafted with steady hands and unspoken love to ensure that neither of their hearts is sinking, even when it feels like they will.

 

Eddie gently leathers shampoo into Buck’s curls and soap onto his skin, washing the sweat and soot away, fingers working seamlessly, secure. Buck stands there, body loose with tiredness, and waits as Eddie quickly does the same for himself. When he rinses them both off under the hot spray of water, Buck tips his head forward and rests his forehead on Eddie’s shoulder, hands clutching his hips as if to keep himself upright.

 

No words are spoken.

 

Buck lets the sharp ache in his jaw, and the pressure in his chest – so intense it threatens to split him open – speak for him. Eddie tilts his neck slightly and Buck turns his head, mouth finding Eddie’s skin just beneath his jaw. When he sinks his teeth in Eddie doesn’t flinch, doesn’t stop him. He just wraps his arms around Buck’s waist, steadying him, pressing their bodies together.

 

Buck’s leg aches from standing, but he ignores it and bites again, lower this time, on Eddie’s throat. He leaves open-mouthed kisses all over the marks he creates, licking the droplets of warm water gathering on his collarbone, making him moan roughly.

 

Buck revels into the sound, shivering, and sinks down his chest next, right over his heart, accidentally grazing Eddie’s nipple with the tip of his tongue. He hears the stutter in Eddie’s breath and does it again, just to hear the hiss escape from his parted lips.

 

He doesn’t linger there though, not this time. He goes back up to his chest, sucking lightly, biting into the flesh until he doesn’t feel comfort spreading through him, his panic dimming and the pain reduced to a background noise in the back of his head.

 

Eddie holds him through it all, solid arms anchoring him, careful hands cradling the back of his head while Buck bites like he’s desperate to keep Eddie tethered to him.

 

It’s messier than it was last time but hushed, and more grounding. Buck’s breath hitches as Eddie’s steady heartbeat pulses beneath his lips. And when Buck finally breaks, collapsing against him with limp muscles and shuddering sobs, Eddie just catches him and keeps him close.

 

He shuts off the water and guides him outside, wrapping them both in soft towels. He cups his cheeks between his hands, then, catching the tears spilling out his eyes with his lips, peppering his face with extremely gentle kisses.

 

“Easy, baby,” Eddie whispers against his wet curls as Buck noses into his throat again, nibbling without really biting. His voice is soft, agonizingly sweet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Later, when they’re both warm and dry under the bedsheets, he embraces him so tightly that Buck thinks Eddie could really hold every broken piece of him together with nothing but his arms.

 

 

 

 

    +1

 

That Friday, something feels very wrong with his best friend. He’s too quiet for the whole shift, constantly on the edge, like he’s bracing for a jump scare that never comes. Buck notices everything – how Eddie’s hands shake when he peels off his turnout gear after a call, the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, behind which unease pools dark and restless.

 

At some point during the day, Buck corners him in the kitchen’s loft while Eddie silently sips his black coffee and tries to ask him what’s wrong. Eddie tells him that he’s fine, but his voice is clipped, curt, a little tainted with harshness. Buck knows better than to push, so he only pats his shoulder before hurrying back to his inventory check with Ravi, concern coiling in his chest.

 

By the end of the shift, Eddie appears much worse. He sees it in the death grip on the steering wheel on the drive home, knuckles white and nails digging into his palms. He feels it in the brittle silence surrounding them as they make dinner together, effortlessly moving around each other following the easy rhythm of a dance they’ve been doing for ages.

 

Eddie’s jaw is locked tight while Chris chatters happily about his new school project, only softening to murmur encouragements, letting Buck navigate the conversation, carrying the weight of it. He barely touches his food and gets trapped in his own head while doing the dishes, so distracted to the point that Buck has to remind him to close the water once everything is clean.

 

At first, he doesn’t understand, cannot really think of a reason why Eddie’s spinning out like this. Then, he sets up his laptop on the kitchen island, and suddenly a realization pops into Buck’s head. It’s that day of the week where he must deal with ‘The Call’.

 

Eddie always gets tense and quiet on these days, like he’d rather jump in a burning building without his gear on than videocall his parents. If it weren’t for Chris, Buck knows that Eddie would probably cut the communication with them to the bare minimum.

 

So, Buck cups his cheek and presses a firm, sweet kiss against his skin. It earns a fond, real smile, the one that makes his eyes crinkle – Buck takes it as a win – and an exaggerated eye roll from Chris who mutters something about them being gross, a little exasperated.

 

Buck flushes hard, ducks in head and fumbles his way into the living room, giving them some kind of privacy, even if he knows they wouldn’t mind keeping him there. He settles quietly on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through TikTok, pretending not to hear, foolishly hoping that this time the call will go fine.

 

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Chris’ chatter is loud and excited as he talks with his grandparents. So, Buck lets his bright voice soothe the dull anxiety he feels for his best friend until a particular exchange catches his attention.

 

“The bake sale? That was awesome! We brought these amazing chocolate chip cookies that were gone in seconds.” Chris’ voice bubbles with excitement.

 

“Did you buy them from the store?” Helena’s voice filters faint and metallic through the laptop’s speakers, enhancing the disapproval in her tone.

 

“What? No!” Chris seems outraged. “Dad baked two whole batches and I helped with the dough.”

 

In different rooms, both Eddie and Buck freeze.

 

The three of them all know it was Buck who baked the cookies for the sale. Actually, he’s been dealing with most of the cooking in that house for years. But Chris doesn’t bother to correct himself, nor does Eddie, so Buck wonders if maybe it wasn’t a slip at all.

 

It’s not a stretch, to be honest, considering Buck’s been coparenting Chris for years, seeing him as his own son. But Chris calling him Dad knocks the air from his lungs. He can hardly believe it’s real. It seems too good to be true because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. He just hopes Eddie doesn’t think he’s overstepping.

 

Still, joy blooms so fierce, spreading through his entire body, that he has to bury his face into the fabric of a couch pillow to stifle the shattering sobs clawing its way out his chest. It’s a beautiful, overwhelming feeling that fills his heart up and makes him whole, like he’s suddenly worth something more than the darkness and the void inside of him.

 

“It’s good you’re learning new skills, Edmundo.” Ramon says, making Chris snorts into his glass of juice.

 

“Dad cannot cook to save his life. I wasn’t talking about him.” Chris’ giggles resonate within his chest as his clarification makes everything even more real. “I meant our Buck.”

 

Buck doesn’t hear Helena’s reply, too busy reeling, basking in the afterglow of the realization of being a father, of belonging to them. A few minutes later Chris says goodbye to his grandparents and strolls into the living room with a secret smile on his lips.

 

“I’ll finish go finish my homework!”

 

“Need any help, Superman?” Buck stands, clearing his voice to make it less rough. He hopes his eyes don’t betray how he’s still trying to hold back the tears.

 

“Stop calling me like that!” Christopher pretends to be horrified by it, trying for teenage indignation as he squeezes Buck’s wait anyway, hiding his face into his stomach. “And nope. I’ll be fine, thanks.”

 

Buck watches him go, sniffling quietly. He lets out another hiccup as he steels himself to go find Eddie, only to freeze when raised voices spill from the kitchen.

 

“…you’re letting him think this is acceptable? Chris doesn’t need another excuse of a father. He needs a woman in his life.”

 

“He’s got plenty of women in his life already. Besides, it’s none of your business how I raise my son.” Eddie sounds quite calm, his voice sharp and tight on the edges.

 

“It is our business.” Helena fires back. “You’re barely fit to raise a child alone. And now you’re confusing him with this.”

 

“Confusing?” Eddie laughs, short and biting. “You want to talk confusing? Try growing up in a house where guilt is a weapon, where nothing is ever good enough, and who you are is proof of being a fucking failure. Chris is not confused. He’s loved. That’s all that matters.”

 

Buck is extremely proud of his best friend as he overhears how he stands his ground. If he could speak up without making things worse, he’d echo his every word in a heartbeat. Despite the all the ups and downs, he believes Eddie to be a great father. He’d love nothing more than to say a thing or two to his terrible excuse of a parents, but he knows that it’d only add fuel to the fire, and this is not what Eddie needs now.

 

“Loved by a stranger?”

 

“Buck’s more family to him that you’ll ever be.” Eddie’s voice slightly shakes with rage, but the faith is unyielding. “He’s always there for Chris, for me without asking for nothing but love in return.” Eddie’s breath gets ragged. “He’s the only one I’d trust my son’s life with. Hell, he’s literally in my will, you know that.”

 

“¿Crees que es normal? ¿Tener una relación con un hombre delante de tu hijo?”

 

Ramon’s harsh, disgusted tone make Buck nauseous. They’re switching to Spanish now – a sign that the conversation has cut deeper than it was supposed to. Even without understanding every word, the venom is clear.

 

“Nunca serás un buen padre si sigues con este estilo de vida. ¿Qué pasa si Chris también lo consigue?”

 

Eddie exhales, sharp and pained. Then, he fires back, a little sass in his tone.

 

“No te preocupes, papá. Soy gay, no estoy enfermo. ¡Chris no se contagiará de nada. Además, ser gay todavía me hace un mejor padre de lo que tú fuiste.”

 

Buck nibbles at his lower lip, guilt pooling in his chest. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he cannot help it, can’t pull himself away. He wants to stay there and wait around just in case his best friend needs him.

 

“¿Cómo te atreves a decirme eso?”

 

“Oh sí, me atrevo a decir esto. ¿Y sabes qué?” Eddie’s voice climbs, vibrating with fury. “Si te molesta tanto que yo sea feliz y tenga a alguien que me quiera just…add it to the lists of the things you’ll never accept about me and leave mi familia alone.”

 

The silence that follows is heavy, suffocating. Chris peeks out from his bedroom door, confusion etched on his face, and Buck gently ushers him back inside.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Well…it’s a little complicated, Chris, but I’m sure your dad will tell you everything eventually.” Buck keeps his voice soft, careful. Even if Chris considers him a parental figure, he thinks it’s still not his place to explain what’s really going on. “So, why don’t we get you to sleep now? It’s late and you have school tomorrow.”

 

The teenager looks like he wants to protest, but only sighs dramatically in the end, slipping under the warm blankets. He’s not a child anymore, but Buck knows that sometimes he still likes to be pampered. So, he fusses over him for a bit, tucking him in neatly and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

 

“I don’t like when they hurt him.”  Chris looks so terribly sad that Buck feels the ache in his own chest and wants to erase it from his eyes.

 

“Me too, Superman…that’s why I have the best idea to make him feel better. How about we make his favourite pancakes for breakfast?”

 

Chris grins, thrilled, and nods eagerly in response, already plotting to add chocolate chips because his father is kind of obsessed with them. Buck easily agrees and is about to bid him goodnight when Chris quietly calls out, stopping him in his tracks.  

 

“Buck?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Dad needs you, so please take care of him.”

 

“I’ve got him, Chris.” Buck nods solemnly and stretches his lips into a small smile. “You don’t need to worry.”

 

Later, after stopping in the bathroom to get changed – and steal one of Eddie’s sweaters that still smells like him – Buck decides it’s finally time to go check on his best friend. He finds him still at the kitchen island, his eyes hollow, bent low as if the whole world weighted on his hunched shoulders alone.  He sits there like the air’s been punched out of his lungs.

 

The silence radiating off him is the dangerous kind that means he’s trapped inside his own head, beating himself up. He’s staring down at his hands closed into tight fists and Buck’s heart breaks at the sight. He leans into the doorframe, cautiously making his presence known so that Eddie doesn’t get startled.

 

“They’re wrong, you know.” Buck doesn’t bother pretending he doesn’t know what happened. Eddie was probably aware of Buck being able to hear everything anyway.  

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Eddie huffs a humourless snort. “I’m used to this. They’ve been saying the same shit my whole life.”

 

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” Buck takes a step closer, careful, scared his best friend might shutter into million tiny pieces if he moves too fast. “You’re an amazing dad. I know it, Chris knows it. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

 

“You’re a good dad too.” Eddie murmurs, so soft it almost breaks. He attempts a small smile that looks more like a grimace.

 

“I’m- It feels surreal. I’m very happy about it, but I’m also sorry for…how the conversation went.”

 

“It’s not your fault, Buck. They can say whatever they want, I don’t give a fuck.” Eddie looks at him with quiet resolve. “You’re family. No one can change that.”

 

“I- I…yeah, and I’m so, so glad for this.” Relief blooms in Buck’s chest at his words of affirmation. “But they shouldn’t say those things. You’re not a failure.”

 

“Then why does it feel like I am? Why does it feel like I’m never good enough?”  Eddie swallows hard, clearly trying not to cave into the tears threatening to fall. “And then Chris calls you dad and it means everything to me, but it also terrifies me because what if you realize they’re right? What if I fuck up and make you leave us?”

 

Buck feels the lump in his throat tightens at the sight before him. He hates seeing Eddie so furious and wrecked, spiralling into a hole of self-deprecation, panic, and unrelenting fears. He gets closer then, gently covering one of Eddie’s curled fists with his own.

 

Hey. I’m here to stay, Eds. It doesn’t matter how many times we both might fuck things up. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Eddie tips his head back and glances at him with glassy eyes, his jaw tight. “Then why does it still hurt so much? I don’t know what to do with all this pain...”

 

And Buck sees himself reflected into the cracks of Eddie’s broken parts, having lived through the same storm many times before, not knowing how to deal with the gnawing need to do something – anything – to stop the never-ending ache from eating you alive. So, he just looks at him, meeting his tired eyes, and whispers, “Take it out on me.”

 

Eddie freezes, mouth agape. “What?”

 

“You know what I mean.” Buck tells him with a tentative voice. “This thing helps me a little to deal with the hurt. It comforts me. Maybe – “

 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Eddie cuts in, voice rough, close to a growl, eyes suddenly blazing with a hunger that Buck’s never seen before.

 

“I do.” Buck feels quite determinate now. “I trust you.”

 

Something in Eddie’s restraint fractures. He stands up so abruptly that the chair he was sitting on scrapes against the floor and nearly topples. His lips part and for a beat he just stares at Buck like he’s trying to figure out if he’s serious. Then, he speaks.

 

“Okay. Come here, then.”

 

The command in his voce isn’t sharp– it’s quiet but carries a certain weight. Buck feels it sink straight down his spine like a powerful shiver and his eyes widens a little, stunned. When he doesn’t move fast enough, Eddie’s hand closes gently but firmly around Buck’s wrist, tugging him forward.

 

Closer.”

 

Buck is already obeying before he can even realise it, letting him pull until their bodies press flush together. There’s a contrast between the way Eddie touches him – reverently, solid, but so, so gentle – and the fury in his eyes that makes Buck’s knees go weak.

 

Eddie breaks entirely right in that moment and his mouth latches onto Buck’s throat leaving hot, open kisses that make him whimper. Buck’s nails dig into his shoulders as Eddie’s teeth sink in, sharp, claiming, drawing a gasp out of Buck’s mouth that turns into a moan when Eddie’s hands grip his hips, grinding them together.

 

Buck’s chest heaves, fingers clutching Eddie’s shirt desperately, shivering from the raw intensity of their contact. He bites his lower lip hard, trying to contain the sounds trapped in his throat.

 

“Don’t hold back too much.” Eddie murmurs against his skin. “I want to hear you.”

 

Eddie.” The way Buck shudders, mewling his name under his breath, tells he’s obeying again without question. “Eddie.”

 

“Good boy.”

 

Buck thinks he’s not going to last much longer if Eddie keeps on ordering him around and praising him like that.

 

Eddie bites harder, licking and sucking until a mark blooms dark and hot under his mouth. Buck feels fire burning beneath his skin and soft whines escape from his control as Eddie’s teeth hungrily scrape his skin, wanting to claim, to leave proof that Buck is his in a way that no one – not even his parents – can deny.

 

“You drive me crazy, Buck. Fuck. I can’t– I can’t keep on pretending I don’t–“

 

“You don’t what?” Buck whispers, a little dizzy with heat and desire.

 

“Love you.” Eddie is breathless as he finally admits his feelings.

 

Buck stills and searches his face. There’s no lie in there. Eddie genuinely loves him. It’s hard to believe he’s not dreaming, but Eddie’s warmth is real and solid and spreads over his whole body to wash the darkness of his thoughts away.

 

What?”

 

“You belong to us, Buck. I want you to be mine.” Eddie growls against his throat, the words stifled by teeth and tongue sucking into his tender flash. “My parents don’t get to take this from me like they did with everything else in my life. I won’t let them.”

 

Buck cries loudly as their hips unconsciously rock together, lost in the frantic and messy rhythm they’re creating. He feels breathless, so overflowed by the love he has for this person that it almost feels like drowning and coming back to life altogether. The friction is deliciously overwhelming, making him lightheaded, his mind gone white-hot. When Eddie stills their movements, heavily panting, Buck lets out a pleading whine, mourning the loss of contact.  

 

Eddie.”

 

“Easy, baby. We have all the time in the world.” Eddie chuckles and presses their foreheads together. His palms cradle his face reverently and their lips casually brush, sending bolts of electricity throughout his nervous system. “You must know – that you’re it for me, Buck. You’re everything I need. You’re home.”

 

The world stops for a heartbeat. Then, Buck surges forward, crashing their lips together in a kiss so desperate and consuming that it’s all teeth, longing, and hunger. Buck is certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is going to be his last first kiss.

 

It feels like fireworks exploding behind his eyelids, electricity running through his every nerve, adrenaline pumping in his veins so fast that Buck feels woozy, as if he was drunk on the endless love spilling out their mouths with no control.

 

At the same time, it’s like resting his bones after running for his entire life without a direction, comfort settling in the particles of his body after finally finding a home in the warmth of Eddie’s eyes, of Eddie’s sweet lips and sinful tongue. This sweet, sacred kiss is the saving grace that will redeem him from all his past sins and from those he’s about to commit with the tempting mouth he finally gets to taste.

 

Eddie clutches him tighter, their tongues dancing to a new rhythm that feels like a hushed vow.

 

In seconds, he hoists Buck up by his thighs with a sharp, demanding “Up,” making him yelp, and then giggle with surprise against his swollen lips. He plops him down on the kitchen island, hands holding his flushed face with veneration burning in his gaze, before initiating another sloppy kiss, which is slower, deeper, consuming.

 

When they break apart for air, panting, Buck presses his puffy, wet lips on Eddie’s neck, nibbling at the skin to ground himself and slow his pulse down.

 

“I love you too, Eds. Always have.”

 

Evan.”

 

Eddie whispers his name like a prayer, reverently, and brushes a thumb on his red lips, staring into his eyes with such devotion that Buck thinks that this is how gods must feel when someone worships them.

 

All his life, he’s always despised people using his given name. Maddie is the only one who gets away with it and even then, Buck doesn’t really enjoy it. But when Eddie pronounces it, he craves to hear it again because he says it like it’s something holy and beautiful, which must be handled with care.

 

“I’m not much of a believer, Evan, but you- God, for you I’m devout.”

 

Buck’s heart stutters, then slams back to life beating faster than ever before. Eddie tilts his face up, and finally – finally – closes the distance to kiss him like a drunken sailor swallowing rum for the first time in years, like a starving vampire tasting blood after centuries of abstinence.

 

“Your son- Buck is still panting when Eddie places soft, damp pecks alongside his jaw before nuzzling his nose with a soft smile. “Our son asked me to take care of you and I– hell, I think that’s all I want to do for the rest of our lives.”

 

“Well, you’re already doing one hell of a job with it.” Eddie tells him with a happy giggle so like Chris’ that makes him want to cry. “So, what’s a whole life more?”

 

“Just to be clear.” Buck gulps, taking a deep breath before looking in his rather glossy eyes, which he didn’t notice up until now. “You and Chris are not getting rid of me. Like ever.”

 

I couldn’t ask for more.” Eddie smiles happily at him, lips hovering. “Now, why don’t you show me how much of a good boy you are and kiss me again.”

 

Buck’s pulse spikes at the phrasing and his blood boils over until he becomes all hot and bothered. Eddie’s being a little shit because he must have gathered how much it affects him, but Buck is just too helpless to fight it. He has no weapons, all defences thrown out the window after only one look, sweetly drowning in the ocean of his eyes.   

 

On a hand he’s a little embarrassed at how he craves for receiving orders and being praised by Eddie. On the other hand, it feels too good to tell him to stop. So, he obeys again in a heartbeat. He surges forward and tastes Eddie’s lips again, sneaking his tongue into his mouth, fingers gripping his hair, making him grunt.

 

“And honestly?” Eddie breathes heavily against his lips. “I cannot wait for all the bites you’re going to give me once we’re married.”

 

Fuck you, Diaz.” Buck is grinning so hard right now he’ll probably stir a muscle in his face. God, he has never felt so happy. “Who says I’m going to say yes?”

 

“I’m sorry to inform you that you’re already signed a contract.” Eddie teases him, wiggling his eyebrows. “And it’s biting. So, you’re stuck.”

 

Oh, my God.” Buck pretends to be horrified at the lame joke, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Sometimes I really think that you’re way too hard to handle.”

 

“That’s what she said.” Eddie wraps his arms around him, his body shaking with laughter as Buck tries to hide his amusement, but fails miserably, looking up at him with an extremely fond expression.

 

He’s such a lost cause for him, but Buck doesn’t feel the same desperation of before. Not now that he knows Eddie loves him too.  

 

“I think you ruined me for everyone else.”

 

Good.” Eddie’s eyes darken slightly, smirking, as he slowly leans in. “I wasn’t planning to share, anyway. You’re mine.”

 

Yeah.” Buck feels breathless now, the familiar pull coming back again at full force. He cannot help licking the strip of skin right under his jaw. “What about you?”

 

Baby. I’ve been yours from the start.”

 

Their mouths collide again, ravenously, as hands grips hard enough to bruise and sloppy tongues curl around each other. Then, Buck nibbles Eddie’s lower lip, teasing, feeling a different kind of comfort, more healing, less distressed.

 

Like every time, Eddie lets him take, take, take, but also gives, biting back his lips with reverence. Suddenly, Buck feels a metallic taste on his tongue and pulls back a bit, his eyes taking in the sight of Eddie’s wrecked face and plumped lips, which sport a little, bleeding nick at their lower corner. Buck thinks he’s devastatingly beautiful.

 

“You’re beautiful.” Buck blurts out, then flushes. Eddie’s own cheeks redden slightly and smiles blinding, unguarded. Then, Buck softly kisses the tiny cut. “Sorry for that.”

 

“It’s nothing.” Eddie slowly slides his hands under his shirt, touching in a way that makes Buck’s toes curl and his skin tingle with anticipation. “Now, how about we take this conversation to the bedroom?”

 

Okay.” Buck giggles, pecking his lips, fingers distractedly playing with his hair. “But you better not boss me around too much.”

 

“Are you sure?” Eddie smirks, licking a stripe of skin on Buck’s neck, causing him to hiss softly, teeth clenching to stifle the sound. “I think it’d be a shame, considering how pretty you look when you obey me and get all flushed and cute.”

 

Eddie, this – I mean –

 

“Don’t worry, baby.” Eddie grazes the skin with his teeth, teasing. “I love that you want to be such a good boy just for me.”

 

Fuck.”

 

“Yeah” Eddie grins against his skin. “That’s the idea.”

 

Buck just groans and lets Eddie pepper kisses all over his skin. It’s beautiful, warm and everything he’s ever dreamed of. As Eddie moves them from the kitchen, picking him up with his strong arms as he wraps his legs and arms around him to avoid falling, Buck’s soft giggles are swallowed by Eddie’s mouth as soon as they reach the bedroom.

 

And Buck has never been happier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Hi everyone!
First fic in this fandom. Thank you for getting to the end of this.
English is not my first language, but I hope I didn't make too many mistakes.
Anyway, I hope you liked my work!
Hit the comments if you feel like letting me know your thoughts on it!