Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Eddie

Zombie Captain: Hey, checking in. How is the roommate situation going? -Bobby Nash

Eddie: It's the best 😀. We should have done this sooner.

*~*~*

Monday

"Good morning, LA."

Eddie throws open the curtains and lets the sunshine flood through every corner of the room. He hums a tune as he pours three cups of orange juice and two cups of coffee. His feet tap and his hips sway as he makes his way over to the couch, where he carefully lays out an LAFD T-shirt, matching over-shirt, and standard-issue uniform trousers, freshly ironed and pressed.

"Good morning, buddy," he calls over his shoulder when he hears the soft click of Chris's crutches.

There's a long pause before Chris asks, "What're you doing, dad?"

There's a question behind the question, but Eddie misses it entirely, too focused on the task at hand.

"Hmm?" He steps back to appreciate his work, then decides it's missing something. Scrounging through Buck's bag of laundered clothes, he comes away with a pair of navy blue socks. When he finally turns, he finds Chris staring at him, head tilted, nose scrunched in bafflement.

"Are those Buck's clothes?"

"What? I ironed my uniform, so I did Buck's, too." When Chris still looks dumbfounded, he adds, "After he graciously let us move back in, the least we can do is show a little gratitude."

Chris shrugs as Buck emerges from the bathroom, dressed in sweats, his curls still wet.

"Hey, thanks, Eds," he says as he ruffles Chris's hair, to Chris's chagrin, and heads off toward the kitchen. "I'm just going to get breakfast started."

This is a new normal that Eddie thinks he can get used to.

He's starting to believe that whoever said that rooming with your best friend is bound to end in disaster had it all wrong. It's been about a week since they've all been sharing space, and despite it being a new configuration to their friendship, with kinks to work through and differences to navigate, he and Buck are operating like a well-oiled machine.

Not even negotiating sleeping arrangements has caused much fuss. You'd expect there to be fighting over who gets the room with the nice-sized bed, the closet space, and the door that closes. But Buck and Eddie are a special case altogether, who managed to have the opposite problem.

Eddie, of course, insisted on letting Buck keep the bedroom. It's not Buck's fault that Eddie and Chris changed their minds about Texas in the middle of Buck's sublease. But Buck, ever the self-sacrificing sap, wasn't having it. One PowerPoint presentation on the ergonomic benefits of a man of Buck's exact height and stature sleeping on a couch, and Eddie finally conceded.

Eddie doesn't believe Buck's made-up data for a second, but, in the end, he's not even sure how much any of it matters. They've spent most of their nights off shift watching movies on the couch/Buck's bed anyway, and there have been multiple occasions where they both fell asleep right there on the couch. Maybe beds aren't all they're cracked up to be, after all.

And, sure, he could let it drive him (and his military training) crazy that Buck likes to wake up, ball up his sheets, toss them to one side of the couch, and go on about his day as if it's nothing. But it costs Eddie nothing to be a team player. He enjoys folding sheets, doing laundry, and ironing. Buck's smile makes it all worth it, and it means they both get to start their day on the right foot.

In short, it's nice having Buck as a roommate. Eddie'd never had a guy best friend growing up, but he imagines this must be what sleepovers were supposed to be like as a kid. Staying up late talking about random things and telling stupid jokes to make each other laugh. Playing video games and wrestling the controller away, trying to make the other lose. Falling asleep in a tangle of limbs because you don't want the night to end. The only real difference, he imagines, is that instead of eating candy and junk food all day, Buck makes them healthy meals because they're adults raising a kid -- they have to set a good example.

He looks at Buck now. A carefree smile graces his face as he scrambles eggs and talks Chris's ear off about some fun fact that Eddie's missed, but that has Christoper's rare, undivided teenage attention.

Yeah. Eddie and Buck's friendship is doing fine.

Wednesday

Eddie wakes far earlier than he would ever like, the alarm on his watch buzzing insistently. He yawns and stretches, vaguely aware that Buck is no longer on the couch beside him. They'd fallen asleep together watching Love Island, Eddie's new guilty pleasure.

Buck usually rises and works out long before Eddie and Chris even think about stirring. This week, however, Chris is going on a trip to Disney with the Wilsons, starting tomorrow, which means that Eddie also has to get up at the ass-crack of dawn if he wants to get all of his son's last-minute vacation essentials before he goes to work. It'll be too late by the time he and Buck get off shift.

He mentally runs through the list of things his teenager failed to mention until last night as he pads to the bathroom. He's too distracted to notice the shower running until--

"Whoa!"

"Shit! Sorry, Bu--" Eddie stops in his tracks, his jaw dropping. "Holy mother of... Why does it look like that?"

Buck's eyes go wide with shock, the hand sudsing his chest quickly dropping to cover his manhood. It takes some effort. Both hands pushing down on a very large, very erect cock. Eddie can still see the tip peeking out at him below Buck's two hands and the fair-sized loofah. The cheap, clear shower liner that Eddie insisted was all they needed provides no coverage.

"Like what?" Buck asks defensively, his cheeks going pink in an instant.

Eddie gestures toward his mostly covered crotch.

"Why is there so much of it?" he asks incredulously, his own cheeks aflame.

Eddie and Buck shower next to each other all the time at work. It's not like they've never seen each other naked! Sure, he follows the bro code, eyes stay above the waist. Even still, how could he not have noticed--

"Eddie, it's 4:30 in the morning. I just woke up! Please don't tell me you've never had morning wood." Buck's defensive posture drops, shamelessly peacocking instead.

True. It's not like Buck is ever just bricked up and naked like this at the fire station for him to notice... His own morning wood is currently twitching against his waistband, but it's not on display for the world to see.

Buck, who's far too proud of himself now, makes a point of removing his hands (and the loofah) to resume washing his chest, his muscles flexing with the motion and his hard cock springing free.

"That shit is unreal," Eddie says, still too tired to be filtered. His own cock is sizeable, but-- "Why would anyone need that much dick?"

When he finally drags his eyes back up Buck's wet frame, he's met with a cocky grin and blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

Buck shrugs.

"I don't know, Eddie. It just comes this way," he says with a wink.

"Idiot," he rolls his eyes even as his cheeks flame.

"An idiot with a big cock," Buck whisper-shouts after him when Eddie turns to head back out the door.

He mentally adds "real shower curtain" to the list of things to pick up at the store, even as he turns to sneak a final peek. Buck raises a questioning brow, but Eddie's gone before he can say anything.

Buck

Hen: Be honest. How's the roommate situation going?

Buck: It's... complicated. Good, but complicated.

*~*~*

Thursday

Buck is too warm, and his limbs are too heavy -- Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like his chest is full of sunshine. Bright and hot and all-consuming. It comes with a sweet, syrupy contentment that slows down time and halts the chatter of his mind. It makes everything feel right in the world. He never wants it to end.

"Oh, my Gawd. You two are so embarrassing."

There's a snicker, and a familiar voice says, "Yeah, they really are something else. I don't know how you put up with them, Chris."

Buck reluctantly pulls himself back to reality enough to crack open an eye. He finds Christopher and Karen staring down at him.

"Is this a thing now, or what?" Chris asks, gesturing to where Buck is lying on the couch.

Buck frowns, confused. But then it dawns on him that the weight on his chest hasn't ended with the dream. He's still enveloped in a solid heat that's not his own.

"Oh. Oh! Eddie!"

Eddie, sleeping peacefully on Buck's chest, his drool seeping through Buck's t-shirt and their legs intertwined, startles awake. He scrambles comically into a sitting position and squints at Buck with shocked confusion before sleep-filled brown eyes finally land on Christopher and Karen.

" Shit! The trip!" he says, hopping to his socked feet. "We didn't finish packing. ¡Vamanos, Chris! Sorry, Karen!"

He jogs off towards Chris's room. Chris side-eyes Eddie, then Buck, before following his dad skeptically.

"It is not a thing!" Buck shouts desperately after Christopher. He turns to Karen to add weakly, "It's not a thing. We just fell asleep watching TV!"

He does not admit that they have fallen asleep watching TV most days this week. That's irrelevant.

"Uh-huh."

Great. Maddie will hear about this by noon.

Karen follows him to the kitchen, where he asks Hildy (freshly broken out against Eddie's protests) to make her a latte.

"So, I'm guessing the whole roommate situation is going well?" she asks as he hands her the matching frog mug Eddie just bought him.

He shrugs and says, a little too casually, "Yeah, it's alright."

She rolls her eyes, but he pretends not to notice. Both Maddie and Hen have been pressing him for information, and he wouldn't be surprised if one of them sent her to try her luck. He gets started on sandwiches for the kids to take on the road.

In truth, rooming with Eddie and Chris has been a dream. The problem is that it's starting to feel like a dream come true: the house, the kid, the partner he cooks dinner for every evening, and now, apparently, that he snuggles up with on the couch at night.

"You do know that that, " She points her thumb in the direction of the couch, "is not normal, right?"

He bites the inside of his cheek, his back to her as he spreads mayonnaise on whole wheat bread.

"Let me guess? You're also going to tell me you think I'm desperately in love with my straight best friend?"

"No, if I were the meddling type, I'd be more inclined to say that I think your best friend might be in love with you ."

He spins around at breakneck speed, the mayonnaise flying off the knife and landing on the floor. Karen sips her latte with faux innocence that isn't fooling anyone.

Tommy and Maddie have both alluded to their suspicions about Buck's feelings for Eddie. That he's a love-sick puppy who, if only he were true and honest about his feelings, might actually have a shot of... what? Ruining his and Eddie's whole friendship?

Never once has he considered that anyone would read the situation the other way around... That Eddie might be in love with him . That's even more preposterous.

"Karen, Eddie's straight."

Karen takes another sip, eyes wide and speculative.

"Why does everyone keep doing that when I say that?" he asks incredulously. "Eddie's the straightest heterosexual man I know!"

She shrugs. "Well, you weren't the one who was all laid up on him , but what do I know?"

Buck pauses to contemplate that fact. Clearly, it was an accident. It happens sometimes when you're really tired: You fall asleep on a buddy's shoulder. Or, in this case, his chest... Anyway, Buck's the clingy one here! Eddie couldn't care less.

Well... Sure, Eddie seems to want him around, too...

Buck actually had every intention of moving out once Eddie and Chris decided to return to LA. It was Eddie who insisted that he turn down the good-enough apartment he had been approved for and stay with them instead. And, as much as Chris loves him, Buck's pretty sure it was Eddie who enlisted Christopher (and his saddest puppy dog eyes) to persuade him when Buck protested. And, sure, it is a little funny that Eddie has found a 'major' problem with every apartment he's gone to look at since...

And, yes, Buck has noticed that even though he convinced Eddie to take the bedroom and let him sleep on the couch, this is the third day this week that Eddie's fallen asleep on the couch next to him instead of heading off to bed.

"Eddie is straight," he repeats.

Karen throws her hands up in surrender just as Eddie saunters in, ushering Chris's rolling suitcase in front of him.

"Eddie, you're straight, right?" Buck says it off the cuff, making Eddie halt mid-step and Karen choke on her coffee.

"Yes..." Eddie says, looking between Buck and Karen as he plucks an apple out of the fruit basket and takes a bite. He frowns, confused. "Is that a topic that's up for debate?"

"No. Nope." Karen coughs out.

"I was just telling Karen that you're the straightest heterosexual I know!"

Eddie's frown deepens and then relaxes with a look of comprehension. "Oh, is this about Pride? Obviously, I'm going with you. You know I'm an ally."

Buck drops the knife at the phrase.

He blinks at Eddie, his hand coming up to scratch at his temple.

"Huh."

"I take it back. It would be so much better if it were a thing."

They all turn to find Christopher waiting in the doorway.

"Agreed," Karen nods at him sympathetically.

"Alright," Eddie says, pushing the suitcase towards the door. "Chris is all set for the week. Let me help get this into the car. I can stop by Pepa's afterward."

Buck sends them off with an armful of sandwiches and homemade muffins.

He sighs, sinking into the couch cushions when he's finally alone. Buck has enough of a sense of self-preservation to not delude himself into thinking that Eddie feels anything other than friendship for him. He does, however, torture himself with Maddie's question. With Tommy's assumptions (though he tries to give that one less weight).

Single dad, big brother, medic -- Eddie is a nurturer by nature. He may be straight, but he's a softer, more intimate guy than anyone, including Eddie, gives him credit for. There's just so much of that quiet care now that they live together that it feels... intimate. Eddie doesn't mean anything by it. Buck knows this. Still, it doesn't mean he isn't enjoying it a little more than he probably should be...

It's a lot. But he can think of one way to take advantage of the rare time with the house to himself that might take his mind off it.

Eddie

"It's good to see you happy, Edito. I haven't seen that light in your eyes in some time."

Eddie ducks his head and smiles. It's full and bright, a little bashful. He leans against the railing of Pepa's front porch, old casserole dish exchanged for a new one filled with Pepa's enchiladas.

"I'm just glad to be back. I'd forgotten how stifling Texas can be."

"You don't mean the heat," she says, knowingly. Eddie frowns and shakes his head.

"It's weird. It's 'home,' technically , but... It's like I feel trapped in my skin when I'm there."

"Home is what you make it, Edito. You've built a home here. Piece by piece. El Paso may be where you're from, but nothing about it was a life you got to choose."

He nods to himself in somber agreement. It's true. He knows it's true. But those are the type of layers best uncovered in therapy, not on his Aunt's front porch while the ladies from her monthly Bridge game are shouting from inside for her to hurry up.

"And to think, there was a time when you fought tooth and nail not to move to LA. You thought everyone here would be hippie, Hollywood freaks."

"They are! But they're my freaks," he says fondly, thinking about the family of weirdos he's made at the 118 and how at home they make him feel.

"And Evancito?"

He smiles, thinking of Buck, who has made his rented home feel more like home than it ever has.

"Buck's been great! Man, it's going to suck when he finds a place."

Because that's the plan. Eddie knows there's only so long he can delay it. So many showings he can sabotage before Buck catches on and tells him off, like Eddie did when the roles were reversed.

"I bet! That man is a rarity. Cleans? Cooks three full meals a day? Ay, you'd better keep him around."

He rolls his eyes lightheartedly and jokes, "You say that like he's my wife."

"Hey, you know that is a legal thing these days."

He laughs and shakes his head.

"Oh! Is that Edito? The handsome, single firefighter nephew?"

Eddie braces himself. Ms. Pearla has already tried to set him up with two of her nieces.

"Yes, we were just talking about his partner, Buck. Talk about a hunk! You should see the two of them together, what a handsome pair!"

Pearla's eyes go wide. " Oh? "

Eddie narrows his eyes at Pepa, who shrugs innocently. Still, he takes the out she offers.

"Hola, Ms. Pearla. Nice to see you again. You ready for a mean game of Bridge?"

"Oh, I'm about to crush these hussies! Your tía included."

Pepa aims a deadly brow at her friend. Eddie takes it as his cue to leave them to it.

He's looking forward to spending this day off at home with Buck, and because he's in such a great mood, he even stops by Buck's favorite farmer's market to get him a few things on the way home.

"Hey, Buck," he says as he places his keys in the little bowl on the table near the entrance.

"E-Eddie!"

He lifts up the heirloom tomatoes and bouquet of wildflowers he got at the Farmer's Market. "I stopped by your market. Got you some stuff."

Buck's already surprised eyes go wider. He blinks, confused, and then smiles a little sheepishly. "Wait, you got me flowers?"

Eddie shrugs. "Technically, they're for the house. I thought they'd look good to put out. This one has mint and basil, so I figured you'd like it for the utility, too."

Buck licks his lips, still blinking as he tries to find the words. "Okay... --"

"And I got you rainbow heirloom tomatoes -- For Pride month," he clarifies when Buck doesn't immediately appreciate his ingenuity. "Just because I'm a straight heterosexual doesn't mean I can't be a fun, supportive ally."

Eddie doesn't know why, but being called the 'straightest heterosexual' Buck knows has been sitting with him wrong all morning. The words are accurate, but together, they feel like an insult. Like bland, unseasoned white rice. His Abuela would be ashamed.

"Eddie, thank you-- But I, um..."

Eddie freezes when he notices the flush on Buck's face.

"...You good, bro? Everything alright?"

"Yep. Yes!" Buck responds. It comes out clipped and strained. Eddie raises a skeptical brow as Buck adds, "But I thought you were at Pepa's?"

Eddie frowns. Buck is flushed red, and there's a visible bead of sweat forming along his browline.

"I was," he says distractedly, coming over to place his hand on Buck's forehead. "It's her monthly bridge game, so I only stayed long enough to drop off her casserole dish and let her show me off to the girls -- You sure you're alright? Are you sick?"

Buck rolls his eyes exasperatedly and mumbles something that sounds like, "You're currently making me feel like a very sick individual."

Eddie moves Buck's laptop, which is sprawled unceremoniously across the couch, and takes his usual seat next to Buck, turning to face him.

Buck whimpers !

"Okay, what is going on ?"

Buck squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep, prayerful breath before he opens them again. They're pleading for him to understand when he says, "Eddie. I thought you were going to be gone at Pepa's longer."

Eddie frowns. Buck is nodding slowly as if there's something he's meant to pick up on here.

Buck's not wrong, a day at Pepa's is generally at least a couple of hours-long experience. He's usually running an errand, helping with home projects, or simply enjoying his Tía's home cooking while watching a telenovela on a lazy day.

"And I didn't... Bridge game." Eddie says again, slowly, mirroring Buck's nod.

"So, I thought I had privacy... And now I... Don't."

Eddie's eyes fall to the throw pillow pressed conspicuously into Buck's lap.

"Oh. Oh! Shit, Buck are you--"

It's obvious now that Buck's jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped, the corner of his fly visible on one side of the pillow. Buck gives him a wry smile and a swift nod this time, even as he turns a brilliant shade of (regular) tomato red.

" Privacy ! You need privacy! I'm just going to--" Eddie points towards the bedroom.

"I'm going to--" Buck points a thumb in the direction of the front door.

"Nope, you can... I can just--"

"Nope, I am definitely going," Buck insists firmly, hopping off the couch and fleeing toward the front door.

"Wait! Buck?" Buck pauses, his hand on the doorknob. "Can you leave the pillow? I just got that from HomeGoods."

Buck makes a strange squawking noise before blindly tossing Eddie's new throw pillow in his direction and sliding sideways through the door, the audible zipper noise the last thing Eddie hears before it shuts.

He stares after Buck when he's gone, mouth ajar.

It's not that he's surprised that Buck, of all people, might... need a moment... every now and again, he just didn't expect him to need one on his couch. The couch that he's still currently sitting on. That fact should probably weird him out, but he finds himself settling in instead. He looks over to where the abandoned laptop remains...

He debates the morality of snooping. It's none of his business what had Buck all riled up. But Buck would snoop in a heartbeat if the shoe were on the other foot, so...

Eddie exhales softly when he's greeted by the freeze frame of a dark-haired, doe-eyed man kneeling before an abnormally large cock.

He's not sure what he was expecting. He knew it was a coin toss, what with the whole "Buck is bisexual now" thing. But Buck still talks about girls, and Eddie refused to allow himself to even think about the possibility that Buck was having sex with Tommy. It's... odd to get this type of confirmation that this is what Buck likes. This is what gets Buck off.

The dark-haired man's eyes are pleading and hungry. Like he knows that the cock in question holds the secret to the greatest joy in life. Eddie hovers the cursor over the play button.

He doesn't watch porn. It's a fact he's proud of. He's always considered his ability to be unfazed and unswayed by its temptation a testament to himself as a gentleman. But he's also never been on this side of a porn site before... The side with rainbows shining brightly at the top of the page like a big welcome sign. It's... intriguing in its novelty. Of course, there'd be a healthy, normal curiosity to see what's there. Plus, he's never actually seen a man perform a sex act on another man, and now that he thinks about it, it feels uncultured to have no point of reference. He's not bland, white rice.

He clicks play.

The doe-eyed man is adoring and enthusiastic as he takes the taller, dark-blond man into his mouth. It almost feels too intimate for porn, the way he holds eye contact and peppers the other man's cock with kisses. He glances at the title: Love Making Session .

He stares at where Buck disappeared out the front door and spares him a sad smile. Buck's attitude around sex is so flippant sometimes that it's easy to miss just how much more of a romantic he is than anyone usually gives him credit.

Does Buck see himself in this equation? He wonders... Would he be like this guy? On his knees? Open? Eyes pleading? Or would he be all cavalier and Buck about it: Eager and determined? Or does he prefer to be the receiver? Eddie grips his thigh when he imagines what it'd be like for a guy like the one on the screen, who looks so strong and masculine, to stare up Buck's tall, muscular frame into blown blue eyes. How small, and special, and safe he'd get to feel. How it'd be to feel the weight of Buck's heavy cock on his tongue...

His clothes feel too tight. He spreads his thighs and sinks back into the couch. The thought comes unbidden. So quick, so fleeting, but still, it's there. He sees it, clear as day.

Eddie sits rod-straight and presses pause, terrified by his own mind and guilt eating away at his gut.

It was just an intrusive thought, he tells himself-- His mind trying to help him relate to this foreign thing on the screen by putting himself and Buck in their place. But it still makes him feel like a lousy friend to have entertained it, even for a second.

There's a simple solution, though. Eddie can exit this window, close up Buck's laptop, and pretend none of this ever happened.

It's the plan. Only, Eddie makes the mistake of scrolling down instead of up.

He gasps.

There, in the list of recommended videos, is something that halts him in his tracks: Straight Roommate, Steamy Shower Scene.

"That's... You can still be straight doing that ?"

One click to investigate reveals a whole genre of related videos, all with the same theme. They're all preposterous. Cliche, cheesy, and completely unrealistic.

Of course, he's not going to watch any of them.

Buck

"Sir, are you alright?"

It's a fair question considering that Buck is standing in the middle of the Trader Joe's bread aisle with all the contents of his hand basket scattered and splattered at his feet.

The chicken recipe that'd brought him here goes forgotten as he stares down at his browser history.

"Huh."

H i s t o r y