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Summary
It’s a victory lap. That’s all it is.
“You and Sora,” Mulan says.
“Sora and I,” Riku replies.
“I looked into it, for I wanted to be respectful of your warrior’s culture,” Mulan continues. “After their journey is over, a Keyblade Master bringing his consort to explore the wor—”
“Excuse me,” Riku interrupts. “What did you say just now?”
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Summary
Just one bite; to taste, and let go.
Or, the on-field flirting is getting a little ridiculous.
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“It could be worse,” Buck says.
Eddie is pacing the length of the hotel room. Buck’s hotel room. The one that they shared last night, because they got married. Drunk married. In Vegas. By fucking Elvis. Jesus fucking Christ. If Eddie wasn’t so hungover he’d worry that the splitting in his head was a brain aneurysm.
“How, Buck? How could it possibly be worse?”
“We could have married strangers?”
(Or, Eddie and Buck get married, move in together, and then fall in love. In that order. Kind of.)
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“I feel fucking explosive, Buck. Like I’m about to go off at any second. I don’t want you caught in my mess.”
His eyes sting. At the very least, Buck contains the sound of it in his voice. “Eddie, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he replies, “but I already am.”
Eddie self-implodes. Christopher, seeking refuge, flees to Buck—whose priorities amount to, in varying order: take in the kid, get Eddie to talk to him, and keep the three of them afloat in the process. (Oh, and Tommy’s there too. He thinks.)
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Suddenly there are arms wrapping around him, pinning his own to his sides so he can’t do any more damage. And it’s Eddie’s voice whispering in his ear, and Buck just - breaks.
His legs give way and he falls to the floor but Eddie doesn’t let go, he just falls right along with him.