WhitePart13
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“I can’t sleep,” Spooky Doorway Eddie says. “Can we just keep fighting tomorrow?”
The annoyance drops from a boil to a simmer. He reaches for the covers, holding up a corner in an invitation for a temporary truce. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I know,” Eddie offers, crossing the room and slipping beneath the sheets. “I’m mad at you, too.”
Or, a first fight and a truce.
Bookmarked by WhitePart13
26 Jun 2026
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Buck hip checks Eddie. ‘’You good?’’
‘’Yeah. I was just looking forward at quiet Sunday afternoon at the house, not this.’’
‘’Quiet Sunday afternoon?’’ Buck chuckles. ‘’When on Earth do you and Christopher have quiet Sunday afternoons? You usually blast aliens on the TV or play Mario Kart.’’
Eddie pouts. ‘’Hey, that’s quiet.’’
‘’Sure,’’ Buck smirks.
‘’Don’t be smug. Not everyone can be a master chef like you.’’
Buck leaves the knife on the board and turns to Eddie, faking offence. ‘’What? Me, a master chef? If you haven’t noticed I’m scared shitless I won’t recognize when the dish is done because Pepa keeps saying ‘it’s over until it’s over’ and ‘just a cup of flour’ but when I ask which cup she says ‘the blue one’. The blue one is not a measuring unit Eddie. I literally have no idea what I’m doing.’’
Eddie shrugs his shoulders then lifts a piece of carrot he just peeled to Buck’s mouth so he can snack on it. ‘’You’re doing fine. I’m on peeling duty. You’re on seasoning duty.’’
***
Or: touch starved Eddie Diaz, that’s it. That’s the fic. 5+1 fic, five times Eddie seeks out comfort in Buck no questions asked and one time Theo does it instead. Cute, soft, fluffy ❤️🥹Series
Bookmarked by WhitePart13
25 Jun 2026
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It starts as a game. Just a fun little thing they do during shifts to keep themselves entertained.
The idea comes from Chimney.
“We should write secret admirer letters,” he says one afternoon, grinning like he’s just solved world peace.
“They don’t even have to be actual admirer letters. Write something funny. Tell someone you appreciate them. Confess your undying love. Whatever.”
Confess your undying love, huh.
Not gonna lie, Eddie is kind of interested in this one.
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Or, Eddie wants to write a love letter to Buck.
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Eddie is prepared to make the trip alone. After all, if he were Buck, he wouldn’t show up either.
Then Buck pulls up, anyway.
(A road trip to El Paso fic)
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“I can’t keep doing this, Eddie. Your sweatpants are in my dresser. You buy the right spices at the farmer’s market for my recipes. You wear the monstrosities I knit for you. You hold my kid’s hand when we’re crossing the street.”
Eddie’s lips are at the hinge of his jaw, like he’s testing the waters. It makes Buck brave enough to bring a numb hand up to one of the belt loops on Eddie’s darkwash jeans, thumbing there restlessly—sliding the tips of his fingers under the hem of his obsidian button-down. The skin-to-skin contact is all at once relieving.
“I think we’ve both known what we are for a while now,” Buck goads, hushed; tilting to arch his neck back against the wall, granting Eddie unlimited access, praying he takes the explicit invitation. “You’re my best friend. But this isn’t sustainable.”
or: Buck's sick of pretending.
Bookmarked by WhitePart13
19 Jun 2026