Work Text:
Something was off with Buck.
Ravi noticed it about halfway into their shift, and hasn't been able to stop thinking about it.
Currently, Buck was curled up on his bed in the bunk-room, the top one attached empty since Eddie woke up and decided he needed to eat something that wasn't the sweet snacks he hid in the kitchen.
Buck, who had been in the same position as he is now—curled into himself like an armadillo, phone in his face, typing quicker than Ravi had ever seen anyone type before—merely made a noise of acknowledgment, nodding his head when Eddie got out of the bunk, patted Buck on his curls, and walked out the room.
Which, yeah. Buck not offering to cook for Eddie is weird, because ever since the kitchen became his kitchen, he would trip over his feet and all but smack people if they tried to use the utilities in there without his permission. And if it was Eddie, Buck's totally-more-than best friend, then he would trip over his feet to cook for him under the guise of not wanting the firehouse to burn down.
Ravi didn't have enough fingers and toes to count how many times he and Harry had to groan and leave the room because Buck was leaning over the counter, making Eddie taste test his cooking like a domestic little housewife; apron sagging around his belt, eyes sparkling and pink lips stretched wide in a smile as Eddie groaned like a pornstar and made comments like: God, I'm so glad I get to keep you.
(On a side note, seriously? Sure, it was Buck's kitchen, but other people needed to eat too. This behavior was just so unprofessional. They may as well have been fucking in front of everyone's salad…)
So, all that to say: something was off with Buck.
Buck, while coined chronically online, didn't really use his phone often. He'd be on it every once in a while—brain-rot while scrolling through the weird feed he built on TikTok, watch weird YouTube videos on whatever topic suited his fancy, curl up on the couch and play those mind-numbing games where you have an avatar with a tractor and pull up dirt and gems to make money—but he preferred to get his entertainment through them, the 118.
He liked to lean on Ravi's shoulder while telling him that lobsters pee from their faces. Toss his legs over Eddie's lap while questioning the man on the book he's reading that's just so interesting he couldn't give Buck any attention. Drag Harry to the pool table for the best 2 of 3.
He just—he wasn't silent.
And no, it wasn't a bad thing.
Ravi would never admit this to anyone, ever, but Buck, somewhere in the time-span of knowing one another, had become important to him. Someone he could not only show vulnerability to, but someone he could depend on to be his friend. He didn't tolerate comments on Buck's loud behavior from anyone, and had a protective streak when he learned of Buck's background one day when Hen and Harry were gossiping about Buck's parents being in town.
It was natural, okay?
Especially given Buck had just as fierce of a protective streak over him. He was one of Ravi's mentors when he joined the firehouse, someone who helped him get back up when kicked off the horse, and he meant a lot to Ravi in a way that was sort-of scary.
That meant when Buck was acting different, even slightly, there was a part of Ravi's brain that immediately locked in and told Ravi that he needed to fix it. Which was really fucking annoying because everyone knows:
A) Eddie or Maddie are the ones in charge of the unofficial (but totally real) Make Sure Buck Isn't About to Kill Himself Squad
and
B) Getting Buck to admit that something was off with him was about as simple as yanking someone's teeth out one by one.
Ravi could leave the bunk room. Go to Eddie, ask if Buck was doing alright.
Unfortunately, Ravi was comfortable enough with Buck to do what he actually did: crawl on all fours to the side of Buck's bed, silently get up the ladder without alerting him, and then hang over the side with his head hanging upside down and ask in an accusatory tone: "What are you doing?"
Buck shrieks; so startled that he jumps up and bangs his head underneath the bed Ravi is hanging from, his phone flying out of his hands and clattering somewhere on the floor. Ravi tries to peep at it, but before he can squint to try and make out what Buck was in the process of typing, Buck is slipping out of his bed and grabbing it—tucking it into the pockets of his pants.
Hands on his hips, Buck narrows his eyes at Ravi, who flips onto his back, his brown skin slightly red as the blood rushes to his head.
"What the hell, man!?" Buck demands. "You scared the shit out of me!"
"Sorry," Ravi says, not sorry at all. He flips again, brings his knees underneath him so he can sit properly on Eddie's bed. It smells of his cologne—a woodsy scent he's smelled on Buck way too many times before. "I just wanted to know what you were doing, I'm bored."
Buck softens a little at the edges, his hands falling from his hips to dangle at his side. He sighs, shaking his head. "You could've just walked up to me, you know. You aren't Spider-Man for God's sake."
"Au contraire," Ravi grins, pointing a finger up. "Anyone can wear the mask, my dear Buckley."
"Whatever," Buck rolls his eyes, stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Don't do that again, okay? I was focused."
"On what?"
Buck pauses. Freezes, more like it. His mouth snaps shut, his jaw jumps, and his eyes glaze over. The look of someone thinking of a lie, Ravi thinks to himself with a smirk.
"I was researching something," Buck says after a beat, nodding once. "Writing some notes on it so I can discuss with Christopher later. You know I'm going home with Eddie tonight, right? We're all gonna have dinner, then play some video games. You should come with."
Well played, Ravi thinks. He knows Buck resorts to this question when he doesn't want Ravi around. Ravi has already told him time and time again no matter how much Buck and Eddie try to incorporate him in their little domestic game nights, Ravi ultimately always ends up babysitting Chris. Which is fine, since Ravi loves the kid, but ever since he reached High School, he's just gotten so teenager and it makes Ravi feel old as hell. (The last time he played a game with him, he put his headset on and made Ravi speak to his friends—only to discover just how old he was every time they said stuff like skibidi toilet and 6-7! 6-7!)
"I'm going on a date with May tonight, actually," Ravi tells him, which actually isn't a lie, because he does. "But thanks for the invite. Maybe next time."
"Sure."
Buck stands there, scratching his neck. Ravi eyes him.
"Are you uh…" Buck gestures his finger to the door. "Gonna leave now, or did you wanna hang out?"
And now he doesn't want to hang out? Something is definitely up.
"Gonna head to the kitchen, actually," Ravi says, smiling small. "Make some fajitas." (Buck doesn't allow Ravi to make food unsupervised, ever since Ravi accidentally dropped and dented one of Buck's favorite frying pans).
"Cool. I'm gonna, uh—get back to what I was doing."
Ravi watches as Buck climbs into bed, this time tucking himself underneath the navy blue sheet. He has two pillows instead of one, the other most likely being stolen from Hen or Chimney's bed since they weren't in here. Buck looks up at him, waves.
"Bye," Buck says, quite rudely too, not wanting Ravi around anymore than he has to be so he can get back to what he's doing.
Ravi just takes it. "Bye," he says, walking out the door and straight to the kitchen.
When you have shifts like this at the firehouse—silent, not quiet; with hardly any calls, and everyone but yourself keeping to their lonesome, it gets boring. Really fast. And unless you want Chimney to send you to scrub the toilets clean until you can drink soup out of them, you need to discover ways to keep yourself entertained without explicitly stating it out loud.
Which is why after Ravi picks up that Buck is lying to him, he decides to go to the second best source to find out what's what—Eddie. The only issue is, Eddie is good at two things: finding out when other people are trying to coax gossip out of him, and protecting Buck. That meant Ravi needed to be sneaky, casual; somehow get Eddie to tell Ravi what he wanted to know without Eddie realizing it.
The easiest way to do this? Hen.
"Hey," Hen greets when Ravi slips onto the sofa next to her. She has the television booted up and the gaming controller in her hand, Dogs 2 loaded on the screen. "Wanna play?"
"No, thanks," Ravi politely declines, settling into his seat. He looks over his shoulder to where Eddie is making himself something for lunch. A sandwich and some chips; only Eddie keeps shoveling meat and cheese into his mouth before it makes it to the bread. He turns back to Hen, leans in close and whispers: "I need your help."
Hen's shoulders go rigid. She glances at him, fingers above the control buttons, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You need what now?"
"Something is up with Buck," Ravi explains, keeping his voice down. "I noticed it a bit into the shift, and I just cornered him in the bunk room, but he lied straight to my face. I wanna find out what he's up to, but I know Eddie will realize what I'm doing and stop me, like, immediately."
Hen purses her lips, looks up as she thinks. It takes a moment before she points a finger at him, wagging it. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him around. Normally on shifts like this, he's all but barking at all of us to play a board game or do a workout together. I knew it seemed—" she cuts herself off, but jerks his chin at him to indicate what she means. Silent.
"He's curled up in the bunk room right now," Ravi gossips. "Eddie is literally making his own lunch right now—Buck didn't even offer to make him anything."
Hen looks over his shoulder, squinting when she sees Eddie feverishly crunching on too many chips, crumbs sticking to the side of his mouth. She winces, gives Ravi a concerned look. "That's—yeah, that isn't within his typical realm of behavior, is it?"
Ravi clasps his hands, gestures to her with an unspoken exactly!
"Buck lied when I asked what he was doing," Ravi explained. "Like, he's curled up in bed, phone in his face, typing up a storm and he wants me to believe he's just taking notes on silly facts for Christopher? I've seen him take notes—that is not note taking."
Like a light bulb going off, Hen straightens her back and blinks. "Wait—didn't he re-download a dating app last week?"
Ravi clasps his hand over his mouth. "What?"
"Yes," She hisses under her breath, smacking him. "Oh my God, Buck is totally talking to someone! And if he's ignoring even Eddie, then…"
Ravi's face falls. "Oh no. It's serious."
Hen grabs Ravi's arm, pulls him off the couch, and they both make a beeline for the stairs: Eddie glancing at them in confusion as they hightail it down to the engine, where Chimney and Harry are conversing. Harry smiles when he sees them come up from behind Chimney, waving, only to jump in surprise when Hen smacks her best friend on the shoulder and all but manhandles him to turn around.
"Hey!" Chimney yells, almost tripping over as she man-handles him. "Hen, Jesus, what the hell?"
"My name is Ravi, actually," Ravi can't help but joke. "We need to talk to you guys—like, now."
Harry and Chimney exchange a look—Harry's eyebrows knitted together, Chimney's mouth pursed—and they move to the empty locker room, Ravi facing the door in case Eddie abandons his hunger to ask them what they're up to.
"Is there some meeting I made that I forgot about?" Chimney questions, sitting down when Hen all but shoves him and Harry onto a bench. "I completely forgot to check the calendar this morning."
"No," Hen shakes her head, places a hand on her hip. "Consider this an emergency meeting for all investors who have placed a bet on when Buck and Eddie will get together."
Harry's eyes light up, his spine straightening as he grins wide. "Wait—did you guys hear good news? My money was on before school for this year lets out, and it's out, in like, a month."
"No," Ravi spits, sitting next to Harry and huffing. "It's awful news. Buck has a partner."
Chimney's bubblegum makes a loud, comedic pop that echoes in the room. He frowns, crossing his arms. "What? Buck doesn't have a partner, Maddie would've told me."
"I don't think he's told anyone yet," Hen explains, sighing. "But all the evidence points to him dating someone—Ravi, tell them."
Ravi recounts the tale of him of this morning: noticing something was off with Buck, cornering him in the bunk room, being told a lie, his behavior, and how Hen drew it all to him having a partner due to him recently re-downloading a dating app. By the time he's finished, Harry is nodding along with his chin between the knuckle of his index finger and his thumb, and Chimney is gazing off into the distance, digesting it.
"Seems probable," Harry says, continuing to nod. "You know, the other day I asked him if he wanted to stay late after family dinner to watch some movies. He said no—that he had a hot date with his computer. But it was like, almost midnight. At first I thought he was going to do some researching and just saying it in a cringe way, but…"
"Oh my God, he totally has an e-partner," Chimney groans, burying his face in his hands. "How the hell did all of us miss this? Do you think Eddie knows?"
"If he does, he hasn't mentioned it to me," Hen says, scratching her chin lightly. "I know what we have to do, though."
"What?"
Hen smirks, slaps Ravi on the shoulder. "We need to get access to his phone."
Ravi hesitates, feeling a weird sensation wash over him. "Isn't that, like, an invasion of privacy?"
"Yeah," Chim agrees, but he sounds reluctant. "Yeah, we can't just go through his phone without permission. We need to just find a way to get him to admit he's cheating on Eddie."
Harry glares at Chim. "Buck and Eddie aren't dating yet, so how is Buck cheating?"
"Shh." Chim presses his finger against Harry's mouth. "Don't question the Captain."
"Well," Ravi pulls his phone out, unlocks it and pulls up his app store. "We have his email, yeah?"
"Yeah," Hen confirms.
"There's tons of spyware to help you find out if your significant other is cheating on you," Ravi brainstorms. "Maybe we can put Buck's email into it, see what he's up to? It'll show us the dating apps he's been on, what else he's signed up for, etc."
Harry grimaces. "Ew, what if we see like—his porn, or something?"
Chimney and Hen shiver.
"Yeah, I'm gonna have to pass on that," Hen says. At that moment, the alarm sounds, making everyone groan, their shoulders slumping. "Let's stick to the good old-fashioned 118 detective work, yeah?"
Ravi nods, everyone jogging off. "Yeah…Yeah, okay."
As it turns out, "good-old fashioned 118 detective work" does not work out the way Hen expected it to.
When they get into the engine, Hen tries to poke the bear, so to speak: asking Buck what he was doing since she missed him while playing Dogs 2. Buck, who was sitting across from Ravi literally knee-to-knee, looked him dead in the eye and said: "Oh, you know me. Just researching whatever managed to pop into my head."
Ravi shrunk into his seat, feeling like Buck had looked right into his eyes and knew immediately what was going on. Luckily enough, Hen managed to reel the situation back in, and they begin a fire round of questions. What exactly did you research? Why? Is this something you can really tell Chris? Which in turn resulted in Eddie joining the conversation, laughing fondly with a twinkle in his eyes as he insisted Chris loved all the fun facts Buck came to him with—which made Buck blush in return.
Since Buck was well equipped with all sorts of "fun facts," he didn't fumble under Hen's interrogation at all. He answered just as quickly as she asked him, which resulted in everyone but Eddie getting irritated that they couldn't just outright ask: Hey, are you sexting someone or something? What the hell is up with all the typing?
The call's a quick one—someone got stuck in a wall again while doing construction on their house, go figure—but a call immediately comes after it. Then another, then another. It genuinely makes Ravi wonder if Buck whispered the Q word under his breath and summoned the God of Jinx so they wouldn't have any energy or time to properly coax information out of him. By the time they get back to the firehouse, everyone's just ready for a nap.
Everyone but Ravi.
Because now? With the way Buck looked at him, squinted at him when Hen questioned him, most likely said the Q word to keep everyone off his tail? It was personal.
Yes, yes, privacy was important—whatever. But this was the 118. When had anyone around here ever minded their damn business? Chim saying that when just last week he plucked Ravi's phone from his hand, read his and May's text thread out to the group while laughing was just hypocritical. And Hen? Hen who never shied to poke at everyone, question what they were up to?
No.
No, there was no such thing as privacy with the 118. They were as codependent as they came to the point of needing therapy—so Ravi was going to do something about this. And he won't even tell anyone, to make it less weird. He'll just find Buck's profile, get the confirmation he needs that Buck is back on the dating scene, and continue this game of cat and mouse until Buck finally snaps.
That's it.
And, you know what? He will be forgiven by the universe, since this is payback over Buck chasing him with a god-damn chainsaw. Ravi is just evening out the playing score, that's all!
Determination now in full swing, Ravi heads to the bunk room, where he snuggles underneath his covers with his phone. Luckily he's on the top, so whenever someone wakes up or shifts around, he'll know. (He could sneak to where Buck is sleeping and grab his phone, hack into it—but this is just easier).
Finding the app he was talking about, he signs up for it—paying the $1 weekly trial (very good all things considered!) and immediately being brought to the front page, where you can fill in information on someone to spy on. (Stalk. The proper terminology is stalking, and now that Ravi is remembering Buck is considered one of Athena Grant's children that's kind of scary, but whatever. Like previously stated: no one has to know about this but him).
Ravi fills in Buck's name, his email, and his phone number, and then is greeted with a slow moving circle that insists on taking it's damn time. Ravi closes out of the app and then scrolls on TikTok, relaxing into his bed with a sigh before he finally gets a notification that his "background check" is ready.
Sitting up in his bed, Ravi crosses his legs and gets comfortable—taking in all the information it gives him. Buck's address, useless but scary to know someone can just get that. His family history—wow, how did they know about his dead brother? Criminal record, none. It's kind of insane, really, what he pulled up with just $1, but Ravi bypasses everything to head to the social media section, where he finds…
□ Instagram □ Twitter □ Threads □ Facebook
□ Roblox □ Pinterest □ Snapchat □ Reddit
□ ArchiveOfOurOwn
Ravi freezes.
Archive of our Own? Like…the fan-fiction website?
Ravi shuts his phone for a minute, contemplating. For a moment, everything makes sense. Why Buck didn't want him near his phone. The "hot date" with his computer. Typing like his life depended on getting 1,000 words out within the next hour. He's met a few people in fandom, dabbled a bit into Marvel himself, but never really read fan-fiction. He was more into the canon stuff, but he knew plenty of people who wrote. And if he's thinking about it, Buck fits that demographic of people in fandom really well.
Bisexual and neurodivergent.
Ravi just doesn't understand why Buck would hide it from him, though. Buck literally went with him to a Comic Con when Ravi had no one else to go with—even dressed up as the superhero Ravi chose for him. (Human Torch, of course. You know, one Ravi wouldn't ship with his Spider-Man).
Hovering his thumb over the link, Ravi hesitates for just a moment. Fandom is sacred to some people. It saves lives, even if "normal people" refuse to admit it. Suddenly, Ravi feels like he's overstepping boundaries, because fan-fiction is apart of some people's identities. You learn of a character and relate or love them so much, they gain a part of your soul. Like Ravi with Spider-Man. Like Christopher with Super-Man. Like Buck with…whoever he wrote or read about.
It could simply just be a reader account, Ravi thinks. Maybe all that typing was a comment gushing about how well someone did? And even if it was a writing account, all Ravi would do is look at it. Right?
Right.
Wrong.
Ravi was so, incredibly, deeply wrong.
blueprint by firehosejones
Major Character Death, Chuck Jones (Hotshots TV)/Eduardo Sanchez (Hotshots TV), Chuck Jones, Eduardo Sanchez, Captain Race Banner, Hollywood Bob, James "Maverick" Johnson, Liam "Hothead" Washington, Tiana "Deadshot" Gonzales, Carly Banner, Canon Divergence, but cap still dies sorry, Jones' Bisexual Awakening, Eduardo Sanchez's Gay Awakening, Captain Race Banner is Chuck Jones Father Figure, Jones Parent Bashing, Sanchez Parent Bashing, Content Warnings Before Every Chapter, Entire Series Rewrite, this begs the question of if sanchez had more ndes than the shit writers gave him, Hurt Eduardo Sanchez, Protective Chuck Jones, Non-Descriptive Sexual Content
Jones never had a place to call home, not really. With parents who never wanted him and estranged siblings that wrote him out of their life the moment they turned 18—family was just a word with a definition he never understood. At least, that's how it feels before he becomes a firefighter. Before he meets Captain Race Banner.
Language: English || Words: 433,001 || Chapters: 10/10 || Comments: 1,211 || Kudos: 2,985 || Bookmarks: 491 || Hits: 44,5589
heaven on earth by firehosejones
No Archive Warnings Apply, Chuck Jones (Hotshots TV)/Eduardo Sanchez (Hotshots TV), Chuck Jones, Eduardo Sanchez, Captain Race Banner, Hollywood Bob, James "Maverick" Johnson, Liam "Hothead" Washington, Tiana "Deadshot" Gonzales, Carly Banner, Alternate Universe, Jones' Bisexual Awakening, Single Father Eduardo Sanchez, his daughters name is christina and i love her, Best Friends to Lovers, Eduardo Sanchez is a Paramedic, Chuck Jones is a Fire Marshal, Disabled Characters, Captain Race Banner is Everyone's Father Figure, Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom!Jones, Top!Sanchez, Fluff and Smut, Chuck Jones Pines after Eduardo Sanchez, Eduardo Sanchez's Gay Awakening, Sanchez Parent Bashing
Eduardo Sanchez is a single father who has come to L.A in search of one thing: stability for him and his daughter, Christina. As a father of a disabled daughter, he cares greatly for his daughter's well-being, but being on his own for the first time since he was 18 is making it rough, and quite frankly, he's close to giving up. That is, until, his Captain introduces him to Chuck Jones—the man he replaced due to a severe injury that left him with no leg. At first, Jones is icy: after all, Sanchez represents everything he can't be. But after meeting Christina, the ice shatters, and soon they find themselves thicker than thieves, with Jones becoming a second father to Sanchez's daughter.
As Sanchez develops a home in L.A, he finds himself turning to Jones more and more. And Jones? Well, he's the first of them to fall.
Language: English || Words: 289,112 || Chapters: 16/16 || Comments: 3,901 || Kudos: 5,673 || Bookmarks: 766 || Hits: 67,832
dry-humping and other guilty pleasures by firehosejones
No Archive Warnings Apply, Chuck Jones (Hotshots TV)/Eduardo Sanchez (Hotshots TV), Chuck Jones (Hotshots TV)/Original Male Character, Chuck Jones, Eduardo Sanchez, Original Male Character, Captain Race Banner, Hollywood Bob, James "Maverick" Johnson, Liam "Hothead" Washington, Tiana "Deadshot" Gonzales, Carly Banner, Best Friends to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dry Humping, Friendly Handjobs, Even Friendlier Blowjobs, Let Jones Get Fucked by Sanchez, Authors Barely Concealed Fetish for Sanchezs Biceps, Jealous Eduardo Sanchez, Possessive Eduardo Sanchez, Jonesfidelity Summer 2025, Feeling Realization, Eduardo Sanchez's Gay Awakening, Bottom!Jones per usual
When Jones comes out as bisexual and starts dating Peter "Quick-shot" Lawson, Sanchez can't help but think to himself: I could be a better boyfriend to Jones than that. He ends up fucking Jones about it on Quick-shot's mattress. Obviously.
Language: English || Words: 43,291 || Chapters: 1/1 || Comments: 35 || Kudos: 1,233 || Bookmarks: 419 || Hits: 6,783
heaven on earth, chapter 12
There was plenty to love about Sanchez, Jones thinks.
For starters, his relationship with Christina. Jones had always wanted kids, which meant he typically felt attracted to those who were more paternal than not—and Sanchez didn't just give his all to Christina, he gave his all to any child that crossed his path, which is evident in the stab wound he got trying to check up on a child he met on call with a mother facing a severe case of MSBP, as well as the scarring on his back from forcing himself through two jagged rocks pinning another down when there was a wicked mudslide that cascaded down the slope of Hollywood.
Outside of the love and protection he held for kids, Sanchez was always calm and collected. Jones had always kind of hated him for it—the way he could easily take control of a situation as though it was as easy as breathing, his subtle dominance an underlining role in every conversation he held. It makes him think of the first day Sanchez started working with the crew. How Jones just so happened to stop by to drop off paperwork so he could see the new probie be reamed, only to discover a man with not a six, but an eight pack walking around as though he owned the damn place. It was hot, yeah, but oh so fucking infuriating.
What was even more infuriating than him being so calm and collected, was the fact the guy didn't have a mean bone in his body. Unless you upset or hurt someone he cared about, Sanchez was sweet. Beyond sweet, he cared for every single soul he saved as though they were his own. The old lady hobbling down the street? He'd pause mid-conversation to help her cross when L.A drivers were being fuckheads. The college kid who was overwhelmed at the cash wrap when they went to get coffee? He'd slide them a cash tip straight to their pocket, wink, and offer kind words.
Jones? Jones, who was always the one left behind, the one filled with bitterness at his lack of being enough for love, at his petty, nonsensical attitude that left people shaking their head and calling him a brat?
Sanchez made that guy his best friend. His family.
The only family Jones had ever had beside Banner and that—
That was enough to hand his heart over, he thinks. That was enough to fall so in love, he'd rather set himself on fire than ever mutter the words aloud.
Buck's in love with Eddie.
So in love with Eddie, he writes fan-fiction about two firefighters on a show that look like him and Eddie, speak like him and Eddie, and act like him and Eddie. And he doesn't just write fan-fiction of these characters, he projects onto these characters.
Christina, really? Best friends who fall in love? Fuck, wasn't Buck a fire marshal at one point in time when he was recovering from the bomb that went off under him in the engine?
This felt less like reading fan-fiction (good fan-fiction too, which shocked Ravi to his core since he never knew how much of a scholar Buck could be) and more like reading a diary on Buck's inner, most private thoughts and feelings in relation to Eddie, and he doesn't know what to do with it.
He couldn't just close out of the tab, either, because this was—
This was serious. More serious than finding a hidden Grindr profile, because Buck—firehousejones—was writing entire love letters to Eddie and nobody knew.
It's not like Ravi could approach Buck about it, either. Ao3 was sacred. The first law of finding someone you know on Ao3 is the same as if you found someone you know on a porn site: you don't, under any circumstances, tell them what you've seen. Ravi wished Buck had some secret boyfriend, because God, that'd be much easier than this. Now Ravi would have to look Buck in the eye and recount those thousands of words he read, and felt, and try to act normal.
By the time Ravi gets home, he needs to tell someone. Anyone.
So he makes a private Reddit account, and asks for advice.
reddit.com/r/A03
u/landlordravioli1994
I (32M) thought one of my friends (34M) had a secret boyfriend he was hiding from our friend group. Instead of being normal, I used some spy app to check him out? And before you ask, YES I KNOW THIS IS WEIRD. IT IS VERY, VERY FUCKING WEIRD. But all of us are very co-dependent and crazy over each other, and need lots of therapy, so don't bother telling me BECAUSE I KNOW.
Anyway, I did this because my friend has a crush on another friend of mine (also 34M) and we have a bet for when they're going to get together. Instead of finding like a hidden grindr acc, I found his ao3. And like, I read one of his stories. Turns out he's using these fictional characters who work the same job we do to project his entire life story with my other friend to write love stories???
HE'S IN LOVE WITH HIS BEST FRIEND. AND HE'S REALLY SAD ABOUT IT. AND WRITING FANFICTION TO COPE. BUT I CAN'T JUST GO UP TO HIM AND BE LIKE "i know ur dirty little secret" so WTF DO I DOOOOO HELLLPPP
↑ 124 🗨 54 ↬ share
u/anoncreations
i think i would kill myself if someone did this to me
↑ 4 ↓ 1
u/krabbiepattie_2001
drop the spy app you used. you know, for science
↑ 2 ↓ 1
u/RealShit420
This is why we don't go SEARCHING for things we have no business in. But I digress. Like my user says, I'm here to speak some REAL SHIT. Here's what you're going to do—you are going to help this dude OUT because it sounds like he has some CRAZY constipation going on in his emotional nervous system! You aren't going to flat out help him in a regular way, though, you're going to do it as an anonymous person on the internet.
Kudos. Comment something you KNOW will hit close to home under the guise of being a stranger. Rinse, repeat.
Get in his head. Play the game. Get him to confess!
AND MAKE SURE TO UPDATE US!!!
↑ 21 ↓ 6
u/christastic2010
wait…this FROOT looks familiar…
↑ 1 ↓ 0
Requests ①
u/christastic2010
ravi. i know its you.
u/landlordravioli1994 has accepted the chat.
u/landlordravioli1994
chris?? what the hell?
does ur dad know ur on reddit
u/christastic2010
does buck know ur putting his information in a spy bot?
u/landlordravioli1994
…
u/christastic2010
exactly
welcome to the club
u/landlordravioli1994
wait, you read bucks ao3?
u/christastic2010
what? no
this is a welcome to the club of knowing my dad and buck are in love and refuse to tell each other
i want to see bucks ao3 though can i see it?
u/landlordravioli1994
absolutely not
ABSOLUTELY NOT.
u/christastic2010
pero whyyyy
u/landlordravioli1994
too adult for a kid your age
u/christastic2010
oh, ew maybe i dont wanna see it then
can you give me ~some~ details at the very least?
u/landlordravioli1994
you're a child oc in his fics
but you're a girl
and ur name is christina instead of chris
u/christastic2010
thats crazy
are you in it?
u/landlordravioli1994
i have my speculations on another oc but im trying to not think about it
u/christastic2010
damn
so what are u going to do?
u/landlordravioli1994
i dont know
i may just ignore it
u/christastic2010
WHATTT
you have all this power at ur fingertips and ur just gonna…
ignore it?
u/landlordravioli1994
repeat this to anyone and i will die but
i dont wanna lose buck as a friend
if he found out i know his ao3..
u/christastic2010
he literally put ketchup in ur shoes
u/landlordravioli1994
i mean yea but this is more serious
u/christastic2010
i think you should do what that one user said
comment on his fic
u/landlordravioli1994
he doesnt allow guest comments
u/christastic2010
i have a burner you can use
you can change the email and everything
u/landlordravioli1994
wait why r u even on the ao3 thread
u/christastic2010
what
finding buck's deepest secret isnt enough
you need to find mine too ?
u/landlordravioli1994
😐
bro cant even ask a question in peace
u/christastic2010
i'll txt u the log in
we can proof the comment together
u/landlordravioli1994
oh no no no
if i comment this its gonna be me
i dont need u going all detective and finding the account
u/christastic2010
L-A-M-E
harry is going to b my fave uncle
>:(
u/landlordravioli1994
yeah thats better than ur dad tripping out on me #pass
txt me here Ravi Panikkar
u/christastic2010
k
buck is sleeping over so i'll keep a close eye…
see if he acts any different
u/landlordravioli1994
bet.
"You still up?"
Buck blinks at his laptop, looking up when Eddie walks into the kitchen. Eddie's hair is a mess from sleep, the front bangs a mix of a wave and a curl, his lips slightly chapped. Buck clears his throat, makes it a point to not look down past Eddie's neck, instead sliding his eyes to the oven, where the built in clock reads 3:04am.
"Seems like I am," Buck mutters, closing his Ellipsus tab and pulling up the YouTube video he paused hours ago.
Eddie shuffles over to the cabinet, pulls a plastic cup out, and fills it with water. "You've been writing a lot these past couple of days," he says casually, as though that doesn't cause Buck's heart to skip a beat. "I know you don't like to talk about it, but…"
"I'm fine," Buck insists, stretching out Eddie's jacket he's wearing to pull it tighter around his body. He can still smell the faint scent of cologne Eddie likes to dab along his shirts, neck, and wrists—Acqua Di Giò. "I just get like this sometimes, you know? Too much emotion for my body to hold."
Eddie tosses him a smile, which paired with his sleepy eyes is just too sexy. Buck licks his lips, and ultimately fails the one goal he had when Eddie stepped into the kitchen; his eyes slipping past Eddie's neck and taking in the sight of his bare torso, his baggy basketball shorts tied in a knot over the v-line of his hips. How can one person be so fucking cut when all I do is feed him cookies? Fuck! So not fair.
"Have you spoken to your therapist recently?" Eddie asks, voice low and husky from sleep, and Buck feels awful because the last thing he should be feeling is an itch to get to his knees when Eddie is just checking up on him. "I know you said journalling helps more, but you still gotta talk to someone, bud."
Bud. Fuck.
That reminds him way too much of the scene he was just in the process of writing—Jones on his back, lips wet, Sanchez grinding into him as he mockingly called him buddy. Jesus.
"I have an appointment in two days," Buck says, shrugging one shoulder and curling in on himself more, looking back at his laptop. His private email shows he has over 100 notifications. "You don't have to worry about me, though. I'm fine."
"Because being up at 3am after working a 24 with no sleep is fine," Eddie teases, slipping into the seat across from Buck and downing his cup of water like a shot.
Buck wants to whimper when a droplet escapes from the corner of his mouth and trails down the side of his jaw, over the trail of his neck, and drips down the hard, hot expanse of Eddie's torso. (Seriously, this was going to kill him!)
"Why are you up then, huh?" Buck asks, pouting and shutting his laptop so he can cross his arms over it. He lays his chin on it, looks up at Eddie from underneath his eyelashes.
Eddie swallows the water in his mouth, causing his Adam's apple to bob. He sucks in air between his teeth when he makes eye contact with Buck, before shooting the empty cup without looking in the sink—slam dunk, it clatters and spins along it's makeshift basket. "I could feel your energy from my room," he says, smirking slightly. "Got worried."
"You're always worried," Buck mutters.
"Of course I'm worried, Buck," Eddie scoffs. "I'm your—I'm your best friend. And you've been a bit off the past few days, and you won't tell me why. You just bury your nose in your phone and journal."
"Journalling is a healthy coping mechanism," Buck defends, sitting up straight and pointing a finger at Eddie. "Studies indicate that it can reduce depression and anxiety from 20 to 45% and it's considered to be just as effective in preventing depression in young adults as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."
Eddie purses his lips. "I hate to break it to you, bud, but you are well past young adulthood."
"Are you calling me old?" Buck scoffs. "Maybe you should journal. Get all that worry wart behavior out on a piece of paper so you don't fret over me."
"First of all," Eddie starts, now being the one to point his finger at Buck. "I did journal for a while, after you got into it. It wasn't for me, I'm more of a, uh…thinker than a writer."
"That's not a coping mechanism—"
"—And second," Eddie says, completely ignoring Buck. "Me wanting to take care of you is not me fretting over you. I don't like the negative connotations that word comes with."
Buck's face warms, that familiar wave of love washing over him at Eddie's words. "Take care of me," he mimics, lowering his voice to try and match Eddie's tone. "You already have enough on your plate, Eddie, I just make everything much more difficult."
"Hey." Eddie reaches over, grips Buck's chin between the hook of his index finger and thumb, makes him look up. His deep brown eyes are so earnest and warm, Buck feels like he could sink into them as though they are a body of water. "Look around you, Buck. You support me just as much as I support you. You help me cook, help me clean. Pick up Chris when I need it, keep us company to stop us from going insane. You are not difficult, except when you decide to be a brat who doesn't know how to take an earnest compliment. I—You're my best friend. You're my family."
For a moment, Buck can pretend. He can shut his eyes and hear the I love you he so desperately wishes was tacked onto the end of that speech, hear the romance of it rather than the platonic of it.
Ugh, Jones is so going to hate him tonight when Buck uses him as his emotional punching dummy.
"You're so corny," Buck mumbles, shying away from Eddie's touch and kicking him underneath the table, his socked feet light against the blade of Eddie's leg. "But you're my best friend too, or whatever."
Eddie grins, shakes his head in that fond way he does when Chris or Buck make him laugh. "Yeah, I know. Now get some sleep, yeah? We're taking Chris to the Zoo tomorrow, and I don't need you all cranky."
Buck wrinkles his nose when Eddie stands up and ruffles his hair, pulling away and swiping at the curls Eddie made a mess of. "I do not get cranky."
"Right, my bad. You get bratty."
Eddie laughs and dodges when Buck reaches out and tries to smack him on his arm, all but hopping out of the kitchen. "Sleep, Buck," he calls back as he disappears to head back to his room. "You know Chris'll leave without you."
Buck can't help but smile small as the echo of Eddie's footsteps gradually fade. Once they're gone, he opens up his laptop with a hefty sigh, navigating to his Ao3 tab where he can take a look at his inbox.
My Inbox (13,010 comments, 27 unread)
anonbeehive3 on Chapter 16 of heaven on earth 7 hours ago
this was a brilliant… can't help but notice how real everything feels. you should totally tell that person you love them, before it's too late
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Buck feels his entire chest ice over at the comment.
It's not uncommon for certain readers to pick up on his energy, that underlying tension written into every word. He's had a few comments like this, but considering how off he'd been recently—all thanks to Eddie's mother making a comment recently about how he needed to date which resulted in Eddie promising he would go out with the next girl she set him up with—this comment feels…
Too much.
Slamming his laptop shut, Buck tucks it under his arm and makes his way to the living room, where he shoves it in his bag and then sinks into the couch. He tugs Eddie's sweater around him tightly, inhales the woody, dry scent of his cologne. Like this, he can pretend that he is in Eddie's arms, being held. A universe that only exists under the lines of his writing.
Tell that person you love them, before it's too late.
Ugh.
He covers his body with the blanket, curls into a ball, and tries not to scream—keeping all the emotions that weigh down on his chest bottled up as though they were Pandora's box.
Tell him, as though it were that simple. Eddie was—
He was Buck's sunlight. He kept Buck alive, kept him warm. He couldn't ruin that with trivial things such as being in love with him. And if Buck were being honest, while it sucked, he'd rather spend his days projecting his wants onto a pair of fictional characters, alone, than to take the risk and confess something that could ruin one of the only true loves he's ever had in his life.
Sleep, Buck tells himself, nose buried in the soft fabric of Eddie's sweater. You need to sleep.
He hefts a sigh, shuts his eyes, and does his best to keep round, dark brown eyes from his dreams.
(He fails. Obviously).
"You have all the water bottles, right?" Buck asks, crouching in front of Chris' wheelchair with sunscreen on his palms, the teenager making a noise of disapproval as Buck smears the protective lotion on the younger mans face. "I'm not paying $10 for a plastic bottle because you forgot to bring them with us again."
Eddie, who has their large bag of items on his back, rolls his eyes. "As if you would pay for the water anyway," he sasses.
Buck looks away from Chris for a moment to glower at Eddie, his eyebrows knitting together.
"Just say yes or no," Chris grumbles. "You know how he gets."
"Yes, Buck," Eddie drawls out, fake irritation dripping from his words. "I have the water bottles."
"And you have the—"
"Lunches, yes," Eddie confirms with a nod. "They're in the insulated lunch box at the top of the bag so nothing gets squished or melts quickly."
Chris adjusts himself in his seat, eager to get through the doors and on the route they're doing for the day so he can get out of the wheelchair and into his crutches. "Do you have Buck's camera?" He asks, wanting to move things along.
"In my pocket." Eddie slaps the front pocket of his jeans, a little rectangular shape lifting from it.
When Buck is finished with Chris' sunscreen, he crowds in Eddie's personal space, palms white and slick with the lotion.
"Oh hell no," Eddie says, taking a step back. "I do not wanna be walking around looking like Casper the friendly ghost, Buck!"
"Just come here!" Buck demands, reaching out and slapping Eddie on the cheek lightly. Eddie groans, quickly giving up and stepping back. His cheeks redden as Buck begins to massage the lotion onto his face, before running his hands down Eddie's neck. "You'll be thanking me when you're 80 and still look 60," Buck grins.
"Is dad not 80 now?" Chris jokes, grinning when his father purses his lips at him.
"How come you don't have to do it?" Eddie complains when Buck finishes up, moving his hands together as though washing them before bringing it up his forearms.
"I already did it before I helped Chris," Buck says. "Okay—phone, wallet, keys? Water, camera, food…Chris' crutches are already mounted on his wheelchair. Am I missing anything?"
"Your sense of sanity?" Chris offers.
Buck smacks Eddie when Eddie laughs. "Ha-ha. Laugh at me all you want, but you know you wouldn't survive without me."
They begin their trek to the entrance of the zoo, Chris keeping up with them as he rolls his wheelchair alongside them. Chris is wearing his denim shorts and striped tank top with a pocket at the chest, his glasses quickly transitioning to a darker shade to protect his eyes from weakening. Buck's wearing his typical outfit to the zoo, a pair of breathable, white cargo pants and a cream button up with his Adidas. He has a snapback tucked into right back pocket in case the sun gets too much, and he's wearing his health watch on the wrist that doesn't home his time watch. (Yes, there is a difference).
Eddie, never the one to dress proper at the zoo, even though Buck all but picks out clothes for him to wear—is in a pair of straight jeans, timberland's, and a white shirt with an open flannel rolled up to his elbows. And it's not like he didn't look good, Eddie always looks good, Buck just thought it would be a bit nice for them all to match for once.
"I wanna go to the LAIR for sure today," Chris is saying as they swipe their membership card, skipping ahead of the people who need to pay for the day. He reaches up to straighten out his glasses, sniffing. "My Biology teacher told us we're going to be doing a project on reptiles soon, and I wanna have some good photos for it."
Eddie squeezes Chris's shoulder, his free hand hanging onto one of the bag straps. "Anything you say, kid."
"I wanna see the false gharial," Buck says with a nod. "Eddie—you know they're like, critically endangered, right? They estimate that there are fewer than 2,500 left."
"Why do they have them here then?" Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow at Buck. "Seems like they should be free, shouldn't they?"
"One would think that," Buck agrees. "But the ones here were brought for sanctuary. You see, there was like this big international smuggling ring where people were trying to essentially steal animals. The U.S Fish & Wildlife service are the ones who got them."
"I should do my report on the false gharial," Chris comments, before thinking. "Or the pig-nosed turtle. They're funny."
"Pig-nosed turtle?" Eddie asks, sounding baffled.
"Yeah," Chris grins. "They have a pig nose so they can snorkel underwater. And their shells are like, made of flesh or something."
"It's true," Buck agrees with a grin. "They're pretty wicked. Also endangered, though, mainly because of humans destroying their habitat and, well. Stealing them to try and make them pets."
Eddie lets out a low whistle. "Are any of the guys in here not endangered?"
Chris and Buck share a look, the two of them thinking as they guide Eddie to the LAIR.
"I mainly pay attention to the cool ones, which are always endangered," Chris whispers, as though its a secret.
"Me too," Buck whispers back, looking equally as guilty as Chris does.
Eddie huffs, shaking his head. "You two are impossible."
Buck hides his smile and blush by turning his chin down to the ground, and they fall in a steady rhythm; Buck and Chris pointing and explaining things they see as they make their way to the LAIR. When they get there, Buck helps Chris get ready to walk with his crutches. Eddie keeps the empty wheelchair ready for Chris whenever he needs it by guiding it with them, taking their time as they step inside. Within the blink of an eye, Chris and Buck are all but pressed up against the little displays of history and information; Buck taking photos of everything he can as Chris rambles about some of the stuff he recognizes from his biology class.
Standing off to the side, Eddie pulls his phone out and takes a photo at the perfect moment: Buck tossing his head back and laughing as Chris grins, proud to have made him laugh.
"Is that your son?"
Eddie blinks, pulled away from looking at the photo when someone speaks directly to him. Next to him is what seems to be a woman around his and Buck's age, wearing a white blouse, jean shorts, and New Balances. Her sunglasses push her dark brown hair back, and she's watching Eddie watch Chris and Buck with a twinkle in her eye.
"Oh, uh," Eddie nods, taken aback by her presence. He looks around, spots some of the other families he hadn't really noticed due to paying attention to his own. "Yeah, that's my son."
"And your husband?"
Eddie's mind record scratches, his ears popping at the question. "Sorry, I—what?"
The woman tilts her head, gives him an odd look. "…Your husband?"
"Oh, uh." Eddie turns to Buck, swallowing. Buck has his hand on Chris' head, and he's laughing hard about something, the freckles on his cheeks standing out underneath the warm yellow sun filtering through the LAIR. And for some reason, Eddie can't help but look back to the woman and smile. "Yeah, my uh—my husband."
"You have a lovely family," she comments kindly. "Always nice to see others like us at the zoo."
Before he can question what she means, another woman comes up to them, with a child straddling her neck. The woman he was speaking to throws him one last smile, before walking away with her hand reaching up to gently touch the child's ear.
"Who was that, mama?" The kid asks.
"Yeah," the woman holding him says. "Make a new friend?"
"Something like that."
Eddie shakes his head, turning back to Chris and Buck. Weird.
My Inbox (13,071 comments, 20 unread)
anonbeehive3 on Chapter 1 of dry-humping and other guilty pleasures 12 hours ago
another great best friends to lovers! you tell them your feelings yet?
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anonbeehive3 on Chapter 10 of blueprint 4 hours ago
really emotional one. just like you'll be if they find someone else.
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My Inbox (13,101 comments, 22 unread)
anonbeehive3 on Chapter 3 of fire it up, cowboy 18 hours ago
jones' confession here was super emotional and detailed…is that something you could relate to, or..?
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Buck's getting stalked.
That's the only logical explanation as to why this anonbeehive3 person won't leave him the fuck alone. And it's starting to creep him out. Whenever he's alone, he can't help but look over his shoulder and wait for someone to creep out of the shadows—come over to him in a hood over their head and tell him his time has come for not letting his best friend know he's head over heels in love with him.
He can't sleep because of it. Can't eat.
It's twisting his insides into something knotted and rotted, and he knows everyone around him can tell. Just this morning, he had to put concealer under his eyes to try and hide the prominent eye bags that were forming. He tried to give himself a boost of energy by making himself a triple shot of espresso, only to jump and give himself a nasty burn on his forearm when Chimney popped up behind him to say good morning. Chimney had asked what the fuck was wrong with him, and honestly? Buck wanted to let it all out. Verbally, for once.
Every since he heard Eddie discuss dating again with his mom, it feels like he's been traversing the Earth like a damn ghost of himself. Simply going through the motions day to day, trying to find something to tether him to reality.
He can't—he can't handle the thought of losing Eddie. Whether it be to Buck's feelings, or to someone else, because ultimately, that's what happens at the end of this story, right?
The way Buck sees it, if he wants to be healthy, these are his options:
-
Confess to Eddie but Eddie is straight. Eddie politely rejects him, and now Buck is forced to live awkwardly around the one person he thought he'd never have to hide his true self from.
-
Keep his feelings to himself, watch Eddie get a girl, watch that girl become his wife, and watch that wife become Chris' mother. Now, Buck is the weird uncle who seems to have inappropriate thoughts about Daddy Diaz.
-
…Well, killing himself could be an option, but—no, he couldn't do that. Not anymore, not when he had so much.
Or did he?
Maybe Buck should reach out to this anonbeehive3, since they seem to know him so much. Ask them what the hell he should do, because everything is weighing on his shoulders like it's the goddamn end of the world and—
Oh.
Oh.
He was locked inside his head again, wasn't he?
Worrying, instead of paying attention on the job.
Because suddenly, all those thoughts are gone, and now he can feel a streak of blood dripping from his head, over his eyes, and—
Eddie.
Eddie is holding his face, shouting something at him. There's a fire, Buck can see it blazing behind Eddie, the smoke and blaze framing him, making him look like a golden angel. His angel.
Maybe he wouldn't have to decide.
Maybe his job did it for him.
RAVI: hypothetical question
CHRIS: you don't ask hypothetical questions
CHRIS: you're a landlord
CHRIS: you're like
CHRIS: /the/ most serious person i know
RAVI: okay yeah it isnt hypothetical
RAVI: buck is in the hospital
CHRIS: WHAT
CHRIS: WHY DIDNT DAD CALL
CHRIS: WHAT IS HAPPENING
RAVI: so like remember the ao3
CHRIS: omg did buck discover u found his ao3 and try to kill himself
CHRIS: that is so something he would do…
RAVI: what? no
RAVI: i've been leaving him comments for like
RAVI: the past couple of days
RAVI: and i think it got to him. i kept telling him to like, confess and stuff
RAVI: well he did, i just dont think he knows it
CHRIS: ? I am not following here, landlord
RAVI: okay so buck was acting super weird today, right? even more weird than normal. like he was tugging at his hair and biting his nails and muttering to himself, and tbh, i like, almost thought we were going to have to put him in a mental hospital because i swear he was seeing shit or something
CHRIS: right.
RAVI: he didn't talk to like, any of us. but outside of that, he was doing fine! working normally, completing his tasks. he answered to us when we spoke to him, but like…yeah. anyway, we got a five alarm fire, and he hit his head. while he was alone
CHRIS: this is going to be nice for his abandonment issues :)
RAVI: right?
RAVI: eddie is the one who found him and he carried him out because buck was like—wow. lots of blood. lots of weird talk. and then i got closer and i realized he was talking about his FAN FICTION
CHRIS: before i laugh is buck okay
RAVI: yeah, just a bump on the head, he'll be okay
CHRIS: ok
CHRIS: LOL
RAVI: and he was talking about sanchez and jones and them kissing or whatever and eddie is stressed as balls and hes like who the fuck are these people and then buck is like ITS US! us in love! and then he fucking dies
RAVI: wait no bad choice of words
RAVI: he passed out
CHRIS: okay my dad just messaged me
RAVI: what did he say
CHRIS: hes sending hen to pick me up and bring me to the hospital. im telling him to send u
RAVI: bro what
RAVI: NO I NEED TO BE HERE WHEN BUCK WAKES UP
CHRIS: NAH BRO CHILL THEY NEED SPACE
RAVI: fuck
RAVI: ok i'll get the keys and be there in like 15
CHRIS: yayyy :)
"Hey."
Eddie flinches awake when he hears Hen's voice, sniffing and forcing his eyes open, ignoring the film of sleep that clings to them. He blinks a few times, looks over to see a cup of coffee being held to him like a lifeline. He sighs, takes the cup and takes a small sip from it. "Hey," he says back, but his voice isn't in it.
"They're almost done with him," Hen says, hesitating before smiling small. "He seems to be much more coherent now. Knows his name. Your name. Uh…Sanchez and—"
"—Jones," Eddie completes for her, clearing his throat. "Jones. They're characters from Hotshots."
Hen nods, biting her lower lip. "Is it too soon to ask…what exactly he was saying to you when you carried him over?"
Eddie lets out a deep sigh, shakes his head. "I don't think I even know what he was talking about, if I'm being honest with you. He was saying all this stuff, like—about them being single dads? And kissing? And…dry-humping? When I asked him, he said it was…"
Hen tilts her chin down, raises both eyebrows. It's her turn to finish for him. "You two?"
"I don't get it," Eddie groans, tossing his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose. "He called them us, but in—but in love, Hen."
"Well…" Hen shrugs a shoulder, takes a sip from her own drink in her hand. "I looked them up, and…well, I gotta say, you both look a lot like them."
Eddie takes a sip of his coffee, exhales. "Sure, but why was Buck saying that stuff? I know he watches Hotshots, but…"
"You'll know when you talk to him," she says with a firm nod. She then reaches over, gently rubs the point between his shoulder blades. "The good news is, he only had a stage one concussion. Other than the whole—temporary flit of confusion, he seems to be completely normal now. He's just going to have to relax for a week or so to get rid of the side effects. What about you, though? How are you doing?"
Eddie drags his hand down his face, shakes his head. "I feel like I got hit in the head, if I'm being honest," he tells her.
"Yeah? Why?"
Eddie licks his lips, brings his cup down and taps on the top of it. "You know…Ugh, this is so stupid—you know how Buck and I go to the Zoo every once in a while?"
Hen nods.
"We went the other day, and…I told someone that he was my husband."
Hen's eyebrows jump up the height of her forehead, and she blinks a few times. "Oh! That's—that's surprising. Any reason why you did that?"
Eddie tilts his chin down, looks up at her with curled eyebrows. "Hen."
"Okay," she winces, sinking back into her seat and sighing. "Yeah, I know."
"It's been something I've been coming to terms with for a while," he admits quietly. "You know, being gay. Realizing it because you're in love with your best friend…I wanted—I don't know, I guess I wanted time, but it feels like my time's run out, you know?"
"Did you know Buck was in love with you?" Hen asks, voice hardly a whisper between them.
Eddie takes another swig of his coffee, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. "I…I hoped for it. I think I hadn't gotten to the stage of wondering what Buck felt for me, and now this happened, and—and I'm going to have to face it, aren't I?"
"I mean." Hen see-saws her hand, wincing once more. "He did hit his head. Maybe he won't realize he was talking about two fictional characters who are you two, in love."
"That's so fucked up," Eddie chuckles, dry. "I think I'm too morbidly curious as to why he was thinking that to not ask, if I'm being honest with you."
Hen shifts in her seat, about to reply, when a nurse comes out to them. They're the only people in their dressed down uniforms, so it isn't hard to identify them among the morning crowd waiting for information on their loved ones.
"Evan Buckley?" She asks politely.
Hen meets Eddie's eye, winks and smacks him on the shoulder. "Go get him, Sanchez."
Eddie rolls his eyes, but the knot in his chest loosens at her poor attempt of humor. He nods and smiles awkwardly to the nurse, who goes over everything Buck is going to have to do while recovering from bumping his head.
"We were a bit worried since he seemed out of it and confused when he came in," the nurse explains. "But there's no other signs that this is anything but a light concussion. The brain is interesting, however, so you're going to have to monitor him closely for the next 48 hours. You're a paramedic so I probably don't have to tell you this, but no activity, no alcohol, and I don't have to warn you from NSAIDs since it's listed in his allergy chart; but just be wary of it. I suggest keeping in doors, obviously, since the sunlight will worsen his headache, and keep him off the phone and computer."
"He's gonna love that," Eddie comments under his breath, thinking back to the previous days where Buck has been hunkered down in Eddie's kitchen, typing away furiously at his journal which Eddie is starting to suspect is not a journal. "Anything else?"
"Plenty of water," she says, stopping in front of Buck's hospital room. "Give him a cold pack to put on his head for 10-20 minutes every once in a while. He's told me he's suffered worse, but just—you know. Take care of him."
"I always take care of him."
The nurse gives him an awkward smile at that, her lips disappearing into her mouth, two little dimples forming. "Right. Well, I'll let you see him. The doctor is wrapped up doing something, but Evan should be discharged within the next hour."
"It's Buck," Eddie tries—but the nurse is already placing her clipboard in the little box outside of Buck's room and wandering off to do whatever it is she needs to do. Eddie sucks in a breath, cracks his neck from side to side, and then places his hand on the door handle, pausing for a moment. His heart feels like it's in his throat, his stomach is aching with nerves, and he has to tell himself—this is Buck in there. Buck. Whatever he meant, whatever happens—you two will get through this. So, like ripping a band-aid off, Eddie pushes down on the handle and presses himself into the room.
Buck is on his back, knees bent, a pair of flimsy paper sunglasses over his eyes. His curls are pushed back with a headband Hen gave him, making the ends form a tiara over the top of his head, and there's a gauze with a little droplet of blood soaking through over the space on his forehead where he bumped his head.
"Hey," Eddie greets, shyly waving at him.
Buck stretches his neck out, and Eddie wants to cry that he can't see the other man's beautiful eyes. "Hey," he says back, sounding much smaller and younger than he actually is. "I, uh—sorry I scared everyone."
Eddie pulls out the chair next to Buck's bed, swipes his hand through the air as though waving his words off. "It happens, Buck. I'm—we—are just glad you're alright."
Buck looks down at his hands, fiddling with the identification band around his wrist, and doesn't say anything.
Eddie clears his throat, runs his hands down the length of his thighs. "So, um. I wanted to ask—"
"Please don't ask," Buck says, cutting him off, his breath hitching. "I can't—Eddie, I don't want to do this here."
"Do what here, bud?"
Buck lets out a dramatic huff through his nose, tilting his head back and looking up at the ceiling, his nose jumping as he sniffs. "I don't want to go through the whole part where you tell me how much of a creep I am and then I have to call Maddie to come pick me up because there's no one to take me back home."
"Hey, hey," Eddie says, leaning forward in his seat and placing his hand on the railing by Buck's bed. "I'm not here to call you a creep, Buck."
"Maybe not now," Buck insists, his voice thickening with anxiety and panic. "But that's just because you don't know—ugh, I hate this." Buck brings his hands up, hiding his face in his palms.
"Buck," Eddie tries to make his voice as gentle as possible, crossing Buck's personal space to pull his hands down from his face. "Whatever you said when you got hurt, it's not going to change a thing between us, okay?"
That's definitely the wrong thing to say, because Buck finally breaks, tears dripping from underneath his sunglasses and curving along the edge of his jaw. "But it will, Eddie," he says. "It will, and I don't know which way it'll go, and that is fucking terrifying. This isn't me just—just writing fan-fiction. This is me writing it about us. With other people's names, yeah, but it's still me. Still you. All because I'm so fucking in love with you, and I know it's wrong. I know I shouldn't be daydreaming of you—you kissing me, or holding me, or your son being our son, and yet I do it anyway, because—because I'm a freak!"
Eddie flinches when Buck raises his voice at the last word, only because of the volume of it. He watches as Buck tucks his knees into his chest, lays his cheek flat on his knee, and turns away from him. He's shaking like a leaf, sniffling occasionally.
He digests what Buck told him for a moment, tries to wrap his head around it. Buck wrote fan-fiction of—them. Eddie had never been in a fandom space, didn't really know what fan-fiction was like outside of memes he saw on social media during the odd scroll here and there, but he knew what it was. He had suspicions Buck wasn't actually journalling, but he never would have guessed Buck was writing about Eddie kissing him. Holding him.
His son being Buck's son. Their son.
For a moment, Eddie thinks back to when he was in high school. There was an art student who had a crush on him—Valentina. She was shy, so instead of ever approaching him, she drew him. He remembered when one of his friends found out, some dumb guy who insisted she was a pathetic stalker who needed a restraining order pressed against him. It had made him uncomfortable, but he didn't hate her. He just didn't like her the way she wanted him to. He had apologized for his friend, complimented her work, and they became friends. He was even there for her when she asked out the next boy she liked, a boy she would go on to marry later in life.
This—this didn't feel like it did with Valentina.
There was no weirdness, because this was Buck. His Buck. His family, the man who helped him come to terms with all that questioning he'd always held in his chest like a ticking time bomb ready to explode all his life. Unlike Valentina, he felt…
Good.
He felt pride that someone he loved could love him enough to do this.
"You know," Eddie says after thinking for a moment, clearing his throat. "I thought you would know me well enough by now that I would never call you a freak. Or be turned off by you admiring me enough to write about me."
Buck turns his head back to him, and Eddie can make out the lines where he's glaring. "This isn't funny, Eddie," he spits.
"No, it's not," Eddie agrees, reaching out and brushing one of Buck's stray curls, watching it hook around his ear. "It's—if I can be crass, it's kind of sexy."
Buck goes rigid under his touch, and Eddie wonders if his heart stopped. He really, really wished he could see his eyes right now. "I'm—sorry, did you just say sexy?"
"What?" Eddie leans back, crosses his arms and smirks at him. "Is it really that big of a shock that I find you attractive? Bud, have you seen yourself? I know you've seen me peep on you in the locker rooms. There's no way you haven't."
"Eddie." Buck is blushing, the red spreading from his cheeks and down his neck, and up his ears. "No, I have not seen you peep on me in the locker rooms. Are you fucking serious? Are you—"
"—trying to awkwardly segway into the fact I love you? Yeah. Yeah, I am."
"—seriously trying to—" Buck cuts off his rant, the finger he was pointing at Eddie slowly deflating as he takes in what Eddie said. He stays still for a moment, the air in the room pulsing like a heartbeat, and Eddie is almost worried he killed the poor guy when Buck finally says: "Wait. Wait, you—you love me?"
"I didn't write fan-fiction or anything," Eddie teases. "But yeah. Yeah, I love you. Have for a while now."
Buck stays still again. There's a beat. Another one. And then Buck is grabbing the pillow behind him and exploding: getting onto his knees and smacking Eddie with the pillow, Eddie laughing roughly as Buck spews: "Oh—my—God!" between smacks. "You—are—such—a—fucking—asshole!"
Eddie chuckles when Buck tosses the pillow to the floor, wincing when the other man crawls into his lap—using his long legs to stretch out on either side of Eddie, forcing Eddie to wrap his hands around his waist with a grunt. "Jesus, Buck! You have a concussion, you can't just—"
"—Do not!" Buck all but hollers. "Do not try and tell me to stop when you just confessed your love for me! I demand kisses! And cuddles, and—"
Eddie presses his lips to Buck's, hands gently framing Buck's face. His lips are soft, so soft, and even though he's been in the hospital for hours, when Eddie licks along his lower one, he can taste the berry chap-stick Buck wears religiously. Buck moans into it, cups Eddie's face back, returning the kiss with a softness Eddie didn't know his best friend was capable of.
When they pull away, Buck's flimsy sunglasses are tilted on his face. Eddie, even worried for Buck, can't help but smile and use a finger to push them up, giving him a clear view of Buck's blue eyes.
"Hey, there, beautiful," he says, before lowering them back on his nose.
Buck sniffles, wraps his arms around Eddie's neck, buries his face into the crook of his shoulder. "I love you," he tells him, voice watery.
"I love you too."
They sit there in silence, Eddie running a hand up and down Buck's back, before he breaks it by asking: "So, does this mean I get to read what you write obsessively now?"
Notes:
heyaaa guys, firehosejones here 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
sorry for the late update, i was a bit too busy getting STRETCHED OUT by my own irl sanchez…you can thank him for the fact this update isn't full of death and grief per usual.
huge shout out to anonbeehive3 for obsessively commenting on my fics, telling me to confess ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵) turns out it wasnt that bad. (totally didn't get bopped on the head and go confused enough to confess, it was TOTAAALLLYYY romantic or whatever…)
anyways, i'll see yall when i see you. much love. MUAH
CHRIS: did he have to include the gross parts in his last authors note?
RAVI: !?!?!? i thought you weren't looking for his ao3!!!
CHRIS: well now i wish i didn't.
CHRIS: [Attached Image: Eddie and Buck on the couch. Buck's legs are over Eddie's. Eddie's fingers are under the hem of Buck's shirt, gently touching him. They're hunched over on his phone].
CHRIS: they're having date nights where they read his fic together
RAVI: wait thats low-key goals
RAVI: maybe i should write fic of may and i
CHRIS: or you could be normal.
RAVI: true, or I could be normal
"Hey." Buck turns over on his stomach, gently drifting the pad of his finger up between the grooves of Eddie's abs with a wicked smile. "You know, I've always wanted someone to help me figure out sex positions for my fan-fics…you interested?"
Eddie looks down at Buck with a raised eyebrow. "Sex positions?"
"Yeah," Buck says. "Sometimes I get confused. Maybe…putting them into practice will help me with my detail."
"Oh." Eddie blinks, thinking. "Oh."
"Yeah," Buck giggles. "Oh."
"Well," Eddie says. "What exactly were you thinking?"
"I was thinking…" Buck pulls his phone from underneath him, flashes an image: "This."
"Buck, are you even bendy enough for that?"
"How about you manhandle me and find out?"
"…"
"What, you scared?"
Buck laughs when Eddie flips him over onto his back, begins kissing his way down Buck's bare stomach.
"Oh, you're on."
FIN.