spn123
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By the third room Eddie can't keep pretending he doesn't get it, because Buck keeps sneaking these looks at him, quick, then snapping his eyes away and going pink at the ears, and Eddie — who has spent an embarrassing amount of his life being a complete idiot about this exact thing — finally lets himself think oh, he's like this because of me, and the thought makes him a little weak in the knees.
"And through here," Buck says, leading them into the living room, "is honestly the best part of the place. Original hardwood, the built-ins are original too, and the natural light in here is just—"
He throws an arm out wide to present the light. His hand goes straight through the window.
There's a crack, then a second worse noise, and then a whole pane of the afternoon just leaves, drops out of the wall into the side yard, and the room goes very bright and very silent, and Buck is standing there with his arm still hanging through the hole where a window used to be.
"Oh my god," Buck says.
"Whoa," says Christopher, deeply impressed.
Or,
Eddie and Chris move to LA and Buck is their realtor.Bookmarked by spn123
19 Jun 2026
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He stands up, because Eddie does not cower from knocks at — he checks his phone — 10:52 PM, even though every true crime podcast his abuela forwards him suggests this is exactly how people end up as a Dateline episode.
He looks through the peephole.
He blinks.
He looks again.
There is a man on his porch. Which, fine, he expected a man. What he did not expect is for the man to be — and Eddie needs a second here, because he’s processing several things simultaneously and doing a poor job with all of them — approximately six foot two, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, visibly muscular in a way that suggests either a dedicated gym routine or a genetic lottery win or both, and completely, entirely, spectacularly naked.
Except for the potted succulent he's holding in front of his crotch.
Eddie's succulent. From Eddie's porch. The one Chris named Potricia.
Or,
The odds of the universe dropping a naked man on your doorstep are low, but never zero.Bookmarked by spn123
18 Jun 2026
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"Hey," Buck says.
Eddie doesn’t move, eyes focused eerily on the ceiling.
"Ambulance is coming. Should be quick."
"Great," Eddie says, and his voice is flat and far away and scraped raw and he still isn’t looking at Buck, he is looking at the ceiling, he has committed to the ceiling, he and the ceiling are in a relationship now and Buck is the other woman.
"I'm really sorry."
"It's fine."
"It's—" Buck looks at Eddie's dick. He looks away from Eddie's dick. He looks at the wall again. "Eddie, it's purple."
"I know it's purple."
"I just want to make sure you know it's purple."
"I can feel that it's purple, Buck."
Right. Okay. That — that makes sense. Considering the purple dick is attached to Eddie, currently. He would know better than anyone.
Buck is going to stop talking now.
Or,
A pet psychologist and a bartender walk into a bar...Bookmarked by spn123
18 Jun 2026
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The phone lights up on the coffee table. It's a number he half-recognizes — a few weeks back a package for his apartment went to 4D by mistake, and he texted the guy to sort it out, and the guy wrote back a paragraph and a half about how the mail situation in this building was, his words, "a war crime." Eddie didn't save the number. He meant to. It just lives in his phone now as a stranger, and the stranger is texting him.
Unknown: hey. HEY. ok this is the package guy from 4D. ur 4B. i need to ask u somethign and its important
Unknown: u have the good dog right
Eddie: Who is this?
Unknown: i JUST said. package guy. 4D. anyway i hear his little feet in the hallway sometiems. tap tap tap. like a tiny gentleman. and i need to know hes real
Eddie knows who this is. Big guy, loud, holds the elevator and then narrates the entire ride down.
Eddie: Are you drunk?
Unknown: thats a seperate issue from the dog
Which is not a no.
Eddie: [image]
Unknown: OH MY GOD
Or,
Eddie gets a series of drunk texts from his hot neighbor.Bookmarked by spn123
18 Jun 2026
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From: [email protected]
Subject: Hi
Hi Eddie,
That seems almost too informal to capture the complicated mess of emotions involved in starting this email. How do you say hello to your (former?) best friend of 7 years who fundamentally changed you after almost 5 years of silence? I definitely don't know. So I'll start with hi. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let the silence stretch out. I'm sorry I let the gap between us widen. I'm sorry I let time slip by. It was days before I realized I hadn't replied your texts or answered your calls. And I let it turn into weeks, months, years. I don't want the silence to have lasted longer than our friendship.
Or; 5 years after Eddie leaves LA again for El Paso, 5 years after he and Buck stop talking, Buck decides to send an email. (A story told through email correspondence)
Bookmarked by spn123
18 Jun 2026