Streetlights and moonbeams

by Buddiesmutslut

Summary:

If you would’ve asked Buck at 13 what he thought he’d be when he grew up, he never would’ve guessed this.

He would’ve said something like a vet, or a professional skateboarder, or an astronaut. Hell, maybe the next Evil Knievel or some other adrenaline junky hobby that he got paid for being the stupidest at.

Never in his life would he have guessed that by age 24, he’d be a murderer - let alone that he’d get paid to do it eventually.

-

After sweeping Christopher back to Texas, the Diaz parents realize that it's only a matter of time before their son steps up and takes him back, and they'll lose their grandson for good.

So, they get in contact with Evan Buckley - murderer for hire - to get rid of Eddie, permanently.

Nobody is expecting what happens next.

Notes:

THE SERIAL KILLER / MURDER FOR HIRE BUCK FIC IS HEEERRRREEEE!!!!

I've had *thee* most fun writing this fic, it's completely unhinged and random and messy and it was so much fun, I don't even care if you guys hate it bc I had a BLAST w it lol. I got sucked into reading Murder Husband buddie fics and then promptly lost my ever-loving mind, and this was born lol.

It starts off kind of dark but then banks pretty abruptly into Buck just being obsessed with Eddie and wanting to make him happy forever and the darkness kind of takes a backseat, I think? Guys I really do not know how to describe this fic, I'm being so serious, it's kind of all over the place, but I hope you still enjoy it!

This fic IS finished in my docs & I'm going to be posting the first 2 chapters today bc they're both mostly just lore & setting the story up and they're also pretty short, but it still made the most sense to make them into separate chapters. However, I'm leaving the number of chapters blank for the moment bc I'm still trying to figure out the best way to break the rest of the story up; I do still plan on updating the fic every day, schedule willing.

Chapter 1

If you would’ve asked Buck at 13 what he thought he’d be when he grew up, he never would’ve guessed this. 

 

He would’ve said something like a vet, or a professional skateboarder, or an astronaut. Hell, maybe the next Evil Knievel or some other adrenaline junky hobby that he got paid for being the stupidest at. 

 

Never in his life would he have guessed that by age 24, he’d be a murderer, let alone that he’d get paid to do it eventually. 

 

It started after he left SEAL training. He was tired, homesick for a place that he’d never been, aching to be loved, to be understood and accepted. He’d been roaming for years, and he still hadn’t made anything out of himself like he swore to Maddie he would. 

 

Hershey never really felt like home, but Maddie was there, and sure, he would love to avoid Doug, if at all possible, but he was just… 

 

He was scared, and he was tired, and it felt like he’d never figure himself out, and he just wanted his big sister. 

 

So, he made the trek from California to Pennsylvania without telling anyone, knowing that Maddie would probably tell him not to come if she knew, and he wasn’t in the right headspace to be turned away at the moment. He knew that he could convince her if he could see her, face-to-face.

 

He made it to her house after the sun went down, the area lit up by only streetlights and moonbeams, tucking him in the safe embrace of shadows. 

 

He’s not sure what stopped him, what made him wait and watch from across the street. Maybe some childhood sense of nostalgia, or misplaced desire to metaphorically capture the moment; he doesn’t know, but he did. 

 

He stopped, and he looked into the windows in the back, and watched as Doug backhanded his sister, watched as he sneered and postured and stood over her when she fell to the floor, screaming until he was red in the face. 

 

He watched as Doug stomped out of the room and left Maddie to clean up the mess that he made, his blood boiling, hot in his veins like lava, like fire. 

 

He wanted to storm in, break the door down, tear it off its hinges and rip it to bits and drive it through Doug’s heart. Wanted to wrap his hands around the man’s throat until his eyes popped out of his head, until his limbs went limp, and his eyes went dark. 

 

However, all the training he’d been subjected to for the last couple of months had him pausing. Maddie was relatively fine, for the moment. Doug was gone, in a different room doing whatever the fuck guys like Doug normally did after abusing their wives. 

 

If he stormed in right now, Doug would still be high on adrenaline, Maddie’s fight or flight instincts would still be in overdrive, and even if he did best Doug, there would still be a struggle, and a witness. He’d go to jail, and Maddie would be all alone dealing with the guilt of being the trigger that got her brother sent to jail, despite the fact that it wouldn’t be her fault - assuming she didn’t try to take the blame herself.

 

No, Buck needed to be smart about this. He needed a plan, needed to think this through and come up with a way that would get Doug out of the way, and Maddie safe, without indicating anyone or alerting any authorities to foul play. 

 

For that, he couldn’t rush this. He needed to figure out Doug’s schedule, needed to know the man inside and out, needed to use every ounce of brain power to make sure that he never, ever hurt Maddie again. 

 

So, he did. He watched Doug, day and night. Followed him to and from work, shadowed him when he visited his parents, stuck to him like glue on every friendly outing, every grocery run and errand and trip for weeks. 

 

He couldn’t have Maddie implicated, which meant it would be best if it looked like an accident; even better if it was an accident that happened when she was away. 

 

He figured out how to hack into Doug’s phone, could read his texts and listen to his phone calls. It was a lot easier than he expected, in all honesty. 

 

A little jiggling on the tires, a few loose wires that all added up to normal wear and tear on an icy road in Pennsylvania winter, and Doug was burning in a car fire - one fueled by the full tank of gas in his car he’d stopped and gotten the night before. 

 

He didn’t stand a chance, and not a single soul suspected foul play, giving their sincerest condolences to his grieving widow, leaving her in control of their entire estate and - given that Doug was a talented surgeon with a hell of a life insurance policy, she definitely wasn’t going to be wanting for anything for a long, long time. 

 

She called him a few days later, sharing the news, and the relief in her voice, the way that each breath came lighter than he’d heard from her in years, it made it all worth it. 

 

He thought he’d feel worse after it was over. He thought he was just too wrapped up in the planning and the logistics that he couldn’t process what was actually going to happen, but then he watched it happen, watched as his brother-in-law, a man he’d known since he was 9-years-old burnt to a crisp, screaming and writhing in agony, the stuck seatbelt and his own panic keeping him in place, and the only thing he felt was the satisfaction of a task completed, the righteousness of a bad man off the streets. 

 

That feeling stays with him; it’s the only thing that makes him feel like he’s worth a damn, actually. He can protect people, can save them from those that would do them harm, and he’s good at it. 

 

He feels good, like he’s found his calling, so he sticks with it. He hones his skills, perfects his methods, learns and masters new techniques, all so that he can be the best. 

 

He didn’t start out getting paid for it right away; he looked for his own victims, for the people that deserved his attention. He found people that hurt women and children, found parents that neglected and abused their kids - and yeah, he realizes he’s the prime example of a serial killer with mommy and daddy issues, he’s a walking cliche if he’s ever heard of one, but as far as he knows, nobody is looking for him. 

 

Nobody is tying that line of bodies around his neck, they’re not stringing up a murder board and breaking out words like, “25-35 years old, white male, probably had a shitty relationship with his parents” or whatever, because he’s good. 

 

It’s like he’s a magnet for awful people, or maybe they stroll across his path on purpose, some divine hand, he doesn’t know. He’s always believed in something bigger, the sentience of the Universe, if not the popular Christian God, but that’s not really here nor there. 

 

He finds them, and he makes them look like accidents, and when he can’t do that, he makes it appear senseless. Wrong time, wrong place. What a tragedy. He never drops two bodies in the same city back-to-back, he takes temporary construction or bartending jobs to explain his presence and leaves once he's done - onto the next job, the next town, the next scumbag. 

 

Somewhere along the way, someone figures it out, realizes what he’s done, but instead of turning him in, they slip him a wad of cash, and from then on out, most of the jobs that he takes come with a price tag. 

 

Not all of them, not every time. He still keeps up his own hunt for them, but if someone contacts him on the burner phone that he only turns one once a week and asks for help and offers to pay, well…

 

A man’s gotta eat, y’know?

Chapter 2

Notes:

Sorry, I started posting this story like, 2 hours ago and then had a breakdown bc of things unrelated but I'm back now, so here's chapter two 🤣🤣

Enter Eddie 🤩

All of that leads him to now, sitting outside a cute little house in Los Angeles, gathering intel on one Eddie Diaz. 

 

His parents are the ones that contacted him - maybe odd, yes, but not unheard of. They said that their son was a danger to their grandson, who they had removed from his home over the summer.

 

“He’s- he’s not well,” the mother, Helena, had sniffled. “He’s always struggled, always been so angry, nothing we did seemed to help. We tried to convince him years ago to leave our grandson with us, but instead, he whisked him away to California, isolating him and keeping us at arm's length. He doesn’t visit, we’ve hardly seen Chris since they moved. We can’t prove that there was abuse, but…” she trails off, looking at her husband with a grimace, who sighs in disappointment. 

 

“We tried so hard, but he was always… different, and then this summer, our grandson called us and,” he stops, shaking his head, as if he can hardly believe whatever happened. “He’d found a woman who looked exactly like Shannon, the woman he married who left him in the middle of the night and then died. He found her and had an affair with her while his girlfriend watched our grandson. He invited that woman over, knowing his son was on the way home, like he wanted them to meet; like it was a game he was playing, and our grandson was nothing more than a pawn.” 

 

Buck can’t imagine what kind of person would do that to their child, who could knowingly harm the person that relied on them completely like that. It burns Buck’s blood. 

 

He hears more about Eddie from his parents, about how they worry if they try to legalize custody, they would fail and Eddie would take it out on their grandson. 

 

He hears about the man losing his mind and destroying his room while his son was in the house, in danger. 

 

He takes the job and does his research. He finds out about Eddie’s arrest for assault years prior, and his stint in an underground fight club. 

 

It’s mind boggling, to try and understand how a person can fail their child over and over again and seem to not care. 

 

All of this while also playing the hero as a firefighter for the LAFD. It grates on Buck’s nerves to no end. He knows this type of person - paramedics that harm patients for the high, police officers that beat their wives and kids, doctors - like Doug - who schmooze and lie and hide their rotten insides behind a mask that only comes off when it’s time for others to pay the price. It’s disgusting. 

 

He finds Eddie’s address and sets up his cameras - they’ll record what he does in the house for when Buck can’t be there to watch him - and he sneaks in one night and clones his phone while the man sleeps so he can monitor his texts and calls. 

 

Once that’s done, he sneaks back out of the house, passing a door that’s only cracked, and Buck’s never really been known for his ability to keep his nose out of other people’s business, so the decision to slowly push the door open the rest of the way is easy. 

 

He’s a little shocked to see how done up the room is. It’s very obviously a kid’s room, based on the stars on the ceiling and the books on the shelves. 

 

There’s a picture of the kid and a woman, which must be his mother - Shannon Diaz, based on Buck’s research - on the desk along the wall. 

 

There are posters up and a corkboard of event memorabilia and photos of the boy in what appears to be school clubs and with the men and women from Eddie’s firehouse, the 118. 

 

In all of these photos, this kid looks happy and settled. He leans into his dad’s side when Eddie is present, he doesn’t hide away from the spotlight. It’s… interesting. 

 

Buck tries not to look too closely at how the big smile on Eddie’s face makes him look even more handsome than normal. Eddie’s objectively a hot man, and Buck is bi, you can’t fault him for looking. It’s just that he knows what that pretty face is hiding. 

 

Still, the room looks clean, like the occupant is simply away for the night, not gone for nearly six months. There’s no accumulation of dust or staleness in the air. 

 

Of course, it could just be because Eddie is a control freak, but something about it feels off. He needs to do more research. 

 

He closes the door again, leaving it just slightly ajar like before, and walks on silent feet through the rest of the house. 

 

He sees more photos hung up in the hallway and living room that he hadn’t really looked at before, full of a happy looking Christopher that was surrounded by people, more often than not. 

 

The Diaz parents' claim that Eddie kept Chris isolated is seeming less and less accurate, especially when he sees numerous pictures of the boy with his great-aunt and great-grandmother, Josephina and Isabel, and if they're lying about that, then he has to question the rest of their testimony too - which, frankly, is a pain in the ass. Sometimes, he regrets taking paid jobs, no matter how good the money is. 

 

The pantry is full of snacks that he hasn’t seen Eddie eat over the last few days and plenty of options for drinks - more notably, the same drinks that were around or in Chris’ hands in several of the pictures around the house. 

 

As he looks out at a home that was made - in some cases literally, based on the ramp outside and the accessible shower in the bathroom - for a kid like Christopher, his ire is slowly replaced with confusion. 

 

Buck has seen all kinds of men and women, has torn their lives apart down to the studs in an effort to learn everything about them. He’s turned down people that wanted to pay him before if he didn’t think they deserved to die, but not one of them has caught him like this one has, like there's a fishhook around his sternum, pulling him towards something. 

 

As he sneaks back out of the house, Eddie snoring softly within, he wonders if this man was put on his path for a reason as well. 

 

He can’t deny the zing of hope that zips up his spine at the possibility. 

 

–

 

The more Buck learns about Eddie and his life, the more his anger fades and a dangerous kind of obsession takes its place. 

 

He learns about Shannon’s reason for leaving in old texts (colorful messages about being alone and how suffocating the Diaz parents were at any given moment), the circumstances behind Eddie’s arrest and his stint in an illegal fighting ring (the loss of his wife, first by proposed divorce - as discovered in old emails - and then to death, an accident that Eddie himself responded to, holding his dying wife’s hand in the back of an ambulance, knowing that there was nothing he could do to save her), followed by Christopher being caught in a tsunami, an event that he barely survived, and that his babysitter did not. 

 

He finds records of Christopher in therapy after all of that to deal with the nightmares that he had, apparently. (Therapy files are not that secure, all he had to do was flash a smile at the receptionist and ask if she could get him a drink and then search her computer while she was gone. She had no idea.) 

 

He finds proof of Eddie’s own therapy sessions, with a Dr. Frank within the LAFD. It’s a little harder to find those notes, since they’re all hand-written and filed in a giant filing cabinet in the back, but he finds it. 

 

He sees mentions of repression and PTSD and survivor’s guilt and a breakdown, which must be what the Diaz parents mentioned. He finds a section about Eddie being shot in LA (which he already knew about, since it’s everywhere online, including a video of it. He knew that Eddie survived, but he’s pretty sure it would count as a miracle, given how long he laid, bleeding out on that street until the other firefighters could get to him. It was hard to ignore the way he couldn’t exhale steadily until he was rushed away in an ambulance.) 

 

He learned from the LAFD reports that Eddie was only on that scene because he was checking on a kid from a call they’d had previously, that he wasn’t even supposed to be there in the first place, but he showed up anyway because a sick child needed him. 

 

Not unlike his other near-death experience, where he cut his line to get to a different child and ended up buried alive under 40-feet of mud for his troubles. 

 

Buck tears Eddie’s life apart piece by piece, recontextualizing every single piece of information that the Diaz parents twisted beyond recognition and handed over to him like some odd caricature of the actual man they raised. 

 

He watches as Eddie texts his son every single morning - no matter that they go always go unanswered - to wish him a good day and let him know he’s thinking of him. He watches as Eddie drops whatever he’s doing to show up when his great-aunt calls for help, and as he calls his great-grandmother down in Texas once a week, speaking in rapid Spanish about their shows. 

 

He follows him to work and watches as he smiles and jokes with his coworkers, as he meets friends for basketball (he doesn’t need to kill them for touching Eddie, he really doesn’t. Eddie’s allowed to have casual friends, and that’s all they appear to be. Still, they are all firefighters, it’s a very dangerous job. Accidents happen all the time. He notes their station numbers, just in case) and poker games, as he goes to confession and leaves but runs into the priest later (and tries very hard to ignore the way possessiveness heats his veins when the young, hot priest compliments Eddie and his mustache). 

 

He grins as Eddie shaves the ‘stache (after having his own moment of silence for its absence) and thanks the Universe that he was recording when Eddie started dancing in his underwear, because he’s going to be watching that for a while. 

 

At the end of the day, all he sees is a man. A good man at that; one who's made his fair share of mistakes but gets up every day and keeps trying. He sees a man that built a life for his son and is trying to give him the space he asked for while promising that he’s always going to be there when he’s ready. 

 

He sees a man that should be hardened by life’s circumstances, who could very easily be closed off and mean, but who instead chooses to be kind, who chooses and continues to devote his life to others, despite the risk to his own wellbeing. 

 

He sees a man whose own parents were more than happy to sign his death warrant because they knew there was no way any court would grant them custody while Eddie was alive, and they care more about their grandson than the kind, brave, intelligent, competent, funny, thoughtful, amazing son that they raised, like him living his life away from them was a moral failing on Eddie’s part, not theirs, and they’re happy to continue to railroad him and undermine his parenting to get what they want, regardless of anybody else’s needs. 

 

Well, not anymore. 

 

Eddie is a good man, one that deserves better than the hand he’s been dealt, and Buck decides that he’s going to make him his. Whatever it takes. 

Notes:

Writing Buck initially being like "This guy is a monster he deserves to die" and then slowly being like, "Actually I think I should murder anybody who makes him frown bc he only deserves to be happy forever and ever and ever" was so fun, I hope it was fun to read ❤️

That's it for today (probably? Should I just do it all? No, I should be patient. On the other hand, 👀) idk, my brain is a fucking mess right now, I think I need lunch & a shower and maybe then I'll feel more human and less disaster, who knows! I hope you've enjoyed these lil chapters & are excited for the rest of the story 🥳

Chapter 3

Notes:

So I'm babysitting 4 of my cousins rn, right? I went over to my aunt's house last night to get the lowdown on like, scheduling and routines and the house and stuff like that, but they had an early flight, so I slept on the couch so that we could talk this morning before she left.

She gave me a list of meals that she'd bought the ingredients for, the chore list for the week & then said that the kids could handle everything else, and that was like. It. Nothing about what time children go to school/what school/come home from school/go to bed at night/snacks they can or can't have past certain hours, *nothing*, so I was like, okay, fine! That's cool, self-sufficient kids, love to see that as the babysitter.

THE FIRST CHILD THAT HAS TO BE READY & GET TO SCHOOL THE EARLIEST CAME IN BC HE OVERSLEPT AND MISSED THE BUS. So we're both scrambling bc he doesn't know the school's address and I have no fucking idea about the schools in that area & her car lowkey freaks me out (it's probably fine bc she drives it all the time but I am not confident enough in my knowledge about cars to be easy breezy about it) so that was fun, and now the week that I was just supposed to sleep over during the nights to keep an eye on things and then hanging out at my home during the day is now basically me just crashing at her house until she comes back bc I'm scared to drive her car to & from my house every single day and the kids want to know if I'm going to be there when they get home from school HELLO.

I am so fucking stressed I have no idea what's going on I do not feel like the adult in this situation lol.

He’s definitely out of practice in this area - relationships aren’t exactly feasible when you’re spending most of your free time stalking and killing the scum of the earth, and hookups are easy for him. 

 

He knows he’s hot, and more importantly, he’s confident in his ability to read people. He knows he just needs to crook his finger the right way, shower a person with the right kind of compliments and they’re more than happy to fall into his bed for a night or two. 

 

This, the wooing and the trying and the effort, it’s new to him. He hasn’t ever really done the “commitment” thing, but he’s already committed to Eddie; he’s all-in on making sure that he’s happy and at peace for the rest of his life, whatever Buck has to do to make that happen, he will. No questions asked. 

 

He starts out with texts. They’re easy, an unobtrusive way to ease Eddie into everything, and besides, it’s not like he needs to ask for his number. 

 

It takes him a while to draft out the perfect text, typing and deleting and retyping the message a dozen times, but in the end, he steals a page from Eddie’s book - something simple to let him know that somebody is there, that they care. 

 

Good morning, beautiful. I hope you slept well. Have a good day.

 

He watches from across the street as Eddie opens the text, frowns for a moment, and then swipes out of the app to get ready for the day instead. 

 

The rejection should sting, but it doesn’t. Eddie is his, and if he needs a few days to interact, then that’s okay with Buck. He’ll keep texting. Eddie is worth the effort. 

 

–

 

You looked beautiful today. I hope you had a good day at work. Eddie reads that text after he gets home from shift the following morning. Another frown, but that’s okay. Buck’s a patient man. 

 

–

 

You’re so incredibly kind. The world is better with you in it. 

 

–

 

Whoever let you out of the house like that was slipping. God, those shorts are bad for my health, baby. 

 

That text - sent while Buck watches from his Jeep as Eddie play basketball in the golden sun in shorts that do the bare minimum to cover his thighs - gets him a confused glance around the court, but he’s pretty sure the pink on his cheeks is only mostly because of exertion. Still no text back, but that’s okay. Buck’s having fun. 

 

–

 

He wants to take the next step, wants to bump this courtship up to the next level (and okay, sure, so he’s still figuring out exactly what that step would be, but it doesn’t matter, he’s ready to take it) but he doesn’t want to scare Eddie off, doesn’t want to come on too strong. 

 

He thinks maybe Eddie was meant for him, that the Universe put them here together, knotted their strings so tightly that their meeting was an inevitability, but Eddie deserves something good, something great, and Buck can do that. He will do that. 

 

Once Eddie reacts to his texts, then Buck can nail down the next step. 

 

– 

 

It happens 8 days after the first time, which honestly, is both shorter and longer than Buck was expecting. 

 

He sent his text, a short Thinking about you tonight, beautiful. Sleep well ❤️ , and watches from his perch in the tree catty corner that gives him the perfect view into Eddie’s bedroom window as Eddie - sitting on his bed - opens it, frowns, and then starts typing back. 

 

Buck’s heart jumps in his chest, waiting incredibly impatiently as he waits for the text to make its way to his phone. 

 

I think you have the wrong number, dude. 

 

Buck chuckles lightly to himself, carefully typing out his response. Nope, I’m talking to you, Eddie. You’re always beautiful and I’m always thinking about you. 

 

He feels high, excitement and joy screaming through his chest as Eddie flushes at the compliment, but is instantly suspicious. 

 

Who are you?

 

Buck covers his mouth with his hand to muffle his giggle as he responds, A secret admirer. 

 

He can’t really lay on his stomach on this branch, but if he could, he’d be kicking his feet and twirling his hair. This is it; the first contact, the start. It’s finally happening! Buck feels like he could float up to the stratosphere. 

 

How did you get my number? Do I know you?

Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, beautiful. 

 

He nearly falls out of the tree when his phone starts to buzz with an incoming call, a picture he’d taken of Eddie popping up on his screen. He was so stunning here, standing with his face turned up to the sun on a walk. Buck knew he had to capture it, he needed to cherish it for the rest of his days. 

 

He shakes his head to focus, trying not to shake the tree from how badly he’s vibrating, the anticipation delaying his response time so that the phone rings twice, which is 2 more times than Eddie should ever have to wait for a response from him. 

 

Buck’s eyes are glued to Eddie as he answers the call, wanting to drink up all of his love’s reactions. “Hi, beautiful.” 

 

Eddie’s eyebrows are drawn harshly over his eyes, staring daggers into the wall of his bedroom, having no idea that Buck is so close, nearly close enough to touch. Buck thinks Eddie’s eyes widen a little at his voice too, like he's feeling the same connection at nothing more than the sound of Buck's voice. He's accepted there's a chance that he could be projecting, but he's pretty sure that's not what this is. 

 

“I don’t ask questions that I don’t want answers to, so I’m going to ask you again: who are you, and how did you get my number?”

 

Buck hums, biting his lip at the effect Eddie’s voice, all deep and growly and demanding, has on his nervous system. He’s heard it before, of course. Floating on the wind to him and in videos and on phone calls, but never like this. He’s talking to Buck, Buck has all of his attention and it’s wonderful. “You can call me Buck. As for how I got your number and how I know you, those questions are a little bit more complicated,” he warns. 

 

“Well then uncomplicate them,” Eddie growls, and Buck shivers. Oh, he’s so perfect. He’s the most perfect man, Buck is so lucky that he’s his. 

 

“Okay fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he says lightly, grinning at the way those brown eyes roll in exasperation. He can’t wait to make them roll in other, more enjoyable ways, but baby steps, Buck, baby steps. 

 

“I was paid to kill you.” His statement is short, precise. He doesn’t want Eddie to fear him, but he does want to see his reaction, wants to see what he’s going to say. 

 

Besides, honesty and communication are pillars in a healthy relationship, that's what all the research says. 

 

Eddie freezes, the only movement he makes is his eyes, darting out the window like he can sense the threat and stop it. Buck knows he’s well-hidden, both by the leaves and the darkness of the night, but it’s exhilarating, the possibility that Eddie could see him, could catch him and come out here and rip him down from the tree and wrap his giant, beautiful hands around Buck’s throat. He’s getting hard just thinking about it. 

 

The silence from the other end of the phone is heavy and long. “You- to kill me?” Eddie asks quietly. He doesn’t sound scared, he sounds sad, and also kind of resigned, like he’d been expecting this situation at some point, and it’s finally here, so he has to accept it, and that, that infuriates Buck more than anything. 

 

Nobody that good should be that sad, and when Buck finds out who made him that way, oh ho, there will be hell to pay. 

 

“I said “was”. Well, I’m still debating on taking their money because frankly, they fucking suck and they deserve to lose out - not that they’ll be alive much longer to really feel the sting of it - but still, it’s the principle of the thing. Anyway, like I was saying, was, as in past tense, as in “I’m not going to kill you anymore,’” he explains cheerfully, watching as the Eddie through the window thaws bit by bit. 

 

First his shoulders, and then his spine. His forehead relaxes next, and then his hands, which had tightened into fists, unclench. His mouth loses its pout - which is kind of a shame, but Buck will take it anyway, he’s a big boy, he swears he can - and then Eddie kind of falls backwards, resting his weight on the hand that he props up behind him. 

 

He doesn’t know Buck’s there, has no idea that he’s being watched right this second, but still, it kind of looks like he’s put himself on display - bicep flexed from the strain of his weight, torso elongated, head dipped. He could easily be on the cover of some magazine in that exact position, and it’s all for Buck. 

 

“Well, I’m glad you changed your mind. Otherwise, I gotta say, all those texts would be kind of weird. Unless you normally compliment people to death?” 

 

It takes a second for Buck to realize that it’s a joke. Eddie is joking with him right now! 

 

He cackles quietly, delighted at the new turn of events, gone on the way that Eddie grins slowly in return, like making Buck laugh has brought him joy. Fuck, he’s amazing. 

 

“No, never,” he promises after a moment. “My normal type is nothing like you. They’re bad people, awful men and women that hurt and abuse and destroy. I don’t think I’ve met anyone like you in a long time, if ever.” 

 

He watches in real time as the happiness from earlier drains away, leaving Eddie looking sorrowful, more like a shell of himself than the vibrant man of moments ago. “I- Buck, not to sound like I’m advocating for my own murder or anything, but I’m not- I’m not good. I hurt those I love and I think I- I’ve destroyed damn near everything I’ve touched,” he admits shamefully, lips rolled between his teeth. 

 

Buck’s shaking his head before Eddie’s even finished. “No, absolutely not. My beautiful baby, I know you. I’ve spent weeks combing through your life, I know everything - well, almost everything - there is to know about you, and you are not bad. You’ve made mistakes, of course. Made the best of bad choices when you were caught between a rock and a hard place, but who hasn’t? Anybody who says they haven’t fucked up before is full of shit and are usually the worst kinds of people. You take accountability for your mistakes, you grow, and you get up every single day and try to do better. You are a good fucking man, Eddie Diaz, and I’m going to be here to remind you of it every time you forget,” he swears vehemently, his short nails digging into the bark of the branch below him in his fervor. 

 

He hears a sniffle on the other end of the phone and watches as a tear rolls down Eddie’s face, roughly swiped away by his hand, and Buck has to root himself in place in order to stop himself from jumping out of the tree and running across the street to do it himself. Be gentle with my baby, he wants to say as he kisses that tear away. You’ve been harsh for too long, you don’t have to be that anymore. You deserve better. Let me be better for you. 

 

He doesn’t, of course. He’s not crazy. 

 

Well. Okay, a therapist wouldn’t call him crazy either, because that’s not very professional of them, but he’s pretty sure they would have some other words for him. After all, normal people don’t have a body count as high as he does, there’s definitely something going on in his brain. 

 

Either way, he needs to woo Eddie, needs to do right by him, and that means doing things step-by-step, the right way, and that, unfortunately, does not allow him to rush in like a bull in a china shop and get his hands all over his Eddie yet.

 

Unfortunately. 

 

“What don’t you know about me?”

 

It takes a second for the question to sink in, to piece together the conversation and figure out what Point A was from Eddie’s point B. 

 

I know almost everything about you. 

 

Buck hesitates, a plethora of answers springing to mind that he knows he can’t ask right now. I don’t know whether you want more kids or not. I don’t know how you look when you come on my cock. I don’t know how soon you’d agree to marry me, can you please tell me it’s asap? I don’t know how you’re going to look at me after I’ve murdered your parents. 

 

There’s still so much for Buck to learn about his beautiful baby, but there will be time for that. For now, he grins and says, “I don’t know your favorite flower,” and basks in the shocked laughter he gets in return. 

 

Eddie’s smile is so pretty, only beaten by the flush on his cheeks. He’s biting on his bottom lip, and Buck wants to be the one biting it instead so so so bad, but he can wait. He will wait. He has to wait. 

 

He hates waiting. 

 

“I’ve never really given it much thought,” Eddie answers, still smiling softly, and Buck’s heart is mushy. 

 

“That’s alright, I’ll figure something out,” he promises quietly, feeling the conversation drawing to a natural ending, but hating it all the same. 

 

Silence lingers in the air between them, and it feels like Eddie is just as reluctant to hang up as Buck is. It’s not an awkward silence, more like the type that only people who really know each other can have, that ease of simply existing in each other’s space, comfortable just to listen to each other breathe, like there's nothing else they'd rather be doing. 

 

All good things must come to an end though, and Buck knows it’s coming as soon as Eddie looks to the side (the side where his bedside table and alarm clock are, Buck knows). 

 

“Well, I have to work tomorrow, so I should probably hit the hay,” he says reluctantly. 

 

“Of course, yeah. You need rest to save all those kittens and escort all those old ladies,” Buck teases, desperate for another deep chuckle before they hang up, and sighing in relief when he gets it. “Okay, beautiful. Sleep well. Dream of me.” 

 

Eddie hums, the smile Buck can see on his face clear in his voice. “Oh trust me, I won’t be forgetting about this interaction anytime soon, conscious or not,” he promises wryly. 

 

Buck makes himself hang up first, knowing that if he doesn’t, he’ll never end the call. He’ll stay on the line all night long, listening to the sounds of Eddie’s breathing, to every shuffle as he turns in his sleep and every smack of his lips in an effort to commit it all to memory, and he doesn’t have time for that tonight. 

 

Not if he wants to find a bouquet of flowers good enough for his Eddie by morning. 

 

He waits, watching from his perch as Eddie stares down at the phone after the call ends, teeth in his bottom lip to try and control his smile, before he tosses it on the charger and gets up to tug the black out curtains closed to block the light of the streetlamps while he sleeps. 

 

Buck can’t bring himself to move for a long while, watching as Eddie’s outline, backlit by the lights in the house through the curtains, moves around, checking locks and sending each room into darkness as he goes, like a beautiful domestic dance, and Buck can so clearly picture himself there, stealing kisses and splitting the work of turning in for the night, shoulder-to-shoulder as they brush their teeth and crawl into bed, curled together. 

 

He wants to be in Eddie’s space constantly, wants to breathe his air and feel his warmth, wants to be the same person. He needs it, needs Eddie close. 

 

He sighs as he silently drops from the tree, stretching his limbs out before jogging to where he’d parked the Jeep earlier in the day. 

 

Still, he’s grinning ear to ear as he pulls away, already running through what his next steps are. 

Notes:

The first contact 🤩 These chapters are all funky ass lengths, idk what you guys want from me 🤣 I almost combined this chapter & the next but that would've been like, over 4k and the one after that is just barely over 3k & honestly, the coming chapter deals with a different thing. Honestly, I feel like I should've just made this one giant, 21k oneshot and just put in breaks instead of trying to figure out chapters. Honestly, I still might do that if they keep fighting me lol.

On the other hand, it's premiere day! Happy day to all that celebrate & fingers crossed that I'm able to watch it live tonight from my aunt's house, if not, ig I'll watch it tomorrow 😭🤣

Chapter 4

Notes:

Hellllllloooo, sorry to disappear on you guys a little bit, I'm babysitting my cousins and they apparently "don't know the wifi password" so I couldn't be on my laptop to update.

As apology, I'm going to upload a couple chapters today to make up for it lol. If I don't upload everything, I'll upload most of it and then finish it when I get home for good later this coming week.

It’s a few days later when they’re on the phone again, Eddie smiling down at the bouquet of flowers he’d just picked up from the porch, the same way he’s done for the last three mornings since they talked for the first time. 

 

“Is this going to be a thing now, you dropping flowers on my porch and then disappearing before I can come to the door?” He asks, delicately rubbing the petals of one of the roses after he arranges it on the table by the window. 

 

Buck hums in response, feeling like he’s flying from seeing the soft smile that he put on his Eddie’s face. “Maybe. You deserve nice things, and I intend to give them to you.” 

 

Eddie bites down on his bottom lip, like he’s debating whether to ask a question or not, and it has Buck leaning forward in anticipation. 

 

“What if the thing I wanted you to give me was you?” 

 

His breath catches in his throat at the whispered question. “I don’t know that you’re ready for that yet, beautiful,” he hedges, getting a snort from Eddie in response. 

 

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” He wonders, not unkindly. 

 

Buck hums, tracing Eddie’s features as best he can from his current hiding space. “I’m a lot, Eddie. The way that I am, the way that I love, it’s a lot to deal with, all the time. If you let me into your house - well, I’ve already been inside your house, but I mean-” 

 

“You have not been inside my house,” Eddie interrupts, sounding so sure of himself, and Buck laughs. 

 

“Eddie, I have absolutely been inside your house. I was in your house before you even knew I existed,” he corrects. 

 

“No way! I would’ve known,” Eddie stubbornly argues, and Buck hums. 

 

“Eddie, my beautiful baby, I am exceedingly good at my job. I could get into your house, do all kinds of filthy things to you and get back out, and you would never know unless I wanted you to,” he purrs, smirking when he hears the catch of breath across the phone line, when he sees Eddie freeze in place, his jaw dropping slightly. 

 

He can’t see from this far away, but if he had to guess, he’d bet that his pupils are blown and that there’s a pretty pink flush spreading across his cheeks. 

 

“Oh, do you like the thought of that? That you could be at my mercy, that I could do anything I wanted to you?” 

 

His voice has dropped an octave, taking on a drawl that he knows people go crazy for, feels like he’s going crazy himself when Eddie reaches down and readjusts himself in his sweatpants. 

 

“Oh, you do,” Buck whispers excitedly. “Naughty boy, you’re so fucking perfect and you don’t even know it. I would be so good to you, baby. I would make you feel so good and clean you up after and you wouldn’t know anything except how nice you’d feel the next morning.” 

 

It’s with growing delight that he gets to see Eddie’s head drop back, his breathing growing heavier as he squeezes himself, and Buck feels insane. He wants Eddie, he needs him, he’s going out of his mind trying to take it slow and not get his hands all over his beautiful boy. 

 

They’re mostly quiet for a minute, the only sound their combined breathing, which is bordering on them both panting through the phone, before Eddie’s head raises again, looking straight out the window with a determined expression on his face. 

 

Buck knows he can’t be seen from here, knows that he’s hidden away well, but it’s still exhilarating, like Eddie is looking directly at him, challenging him, and his next words confirm it. 

 

“No, you couldn't. I’d know you were here, and if you touched me, I’d wake up.” 

 

Buck digs his nails into his thigh, squeezing his phone so tightly that he’s surprised it doesn’t crumble in his hand. “Alright. You’re on, beautiful.” 

 

His mind races with possibilities, a plan falling into place. It’s hard not to rush in there right now, but that’s not what his Eddie wants. 

 

His Eddie wants to be loved on, to be taken advantage of and cared for and not have to think about it, not have to be awake for it, and there’s nothing his Eddie could want that Buck wouldn’t give. 

 

He draws the conversation away for the time being, leading into stories about Eddie’s work this past week, his hobbies - anything he wants to talk about, Buck needs to hear it. It warms his soul, brings a part of him to life that he swore had been broken when he was born. 

 

It wasn’t, it just needed Eddie. He just needed Eddie. Forever. 

 

–

 

“So, did you come last night?” Eddie asks the following day, and Buck has to bite back a giggle. He’s so desperate for it, for Buck, it’s a high unlike anything he’s ever known. 

 

“Do you think I did?” He counters. He’s not watching Eddie from the window this time, he’s driving into work (stupid work. If it’s going to cut into his Eddie time, he may have to reconsider this stupid “having a job” shtick. He doesn’t really need it, he has plenty of money saved up in an account that’s not linked to him unless you know where to look, but idle hands and all that.) 

 

He has the livestreams from the cameras all around Eddie’s house pulled up on the phone where it’s sitting in a holder on his dash though, so he can still see him. 

 

His Eddie is in the kitchen, lounging in one of his chairs, feet crossed in front of him, languid and tempting and glorious. 

 

The angle isn’t quite right, he might have to readjust it on his next trip, so it gets his whole face instead of just a half-profile, or add another camera so he’s covered from all angles, but that’s an issue for later. 

 

“No, no I know you didn’t, I was just… making conversation,” Eddie responds, twisting the cup on the table in front of him. He looks so lonely, and if Buck didn’t know any better, he’d say he was pouting. 

 

Has Buck mentioned yet how perfect he is? 

 

In the meantime, he hums noncommittally. “Well, if you’re sure, then it must be true.” 

 

The twirling mug pauses. “Are you trying to say that you did?” 

 

“Are you admitting that you can’t tell?” 

 

“Are you admitting that you were?” 

 

Buck bites his lip, barely restraining the urge to bounce in his seat. It’s just- it’s so much fun, this banter he and Eddie have. The give and take, the dance they do. Eddie is smart, Buck learned this about him early on, but he’s smart against Buck too, he can keep up with him, probably the only one that ever could, and it’s delightful. 

 

“I will admit to nothing. The bet was that you would wake up if I tried to sneak in and do anything to you. If you’re willing to reconsider that statement, then-” 

 

“No, no, that’s not it. I stand by it. I’d wake up. I’m a firefighter, Buck; I have to be ready to go at a moment’s notice, and that’s not even accounting for the fact that I’ve been a dad since I was 19. I’m always on the lookout for bad dreams and things that go bump in the night.” 

 

“I’m gonna bump you at night,” Buck threatens playfully, getting a reluctant snort from the other end of the phone, but he can see the amused smile peeking out on the side of Eddie’s cheek that he can see. 

 

“God, that was awful. You’re like a 12-year-old boy,” he accuses, and Buck shrugs. Eddie makes him feel like a kid again, like he’s allowed to be young and stupid - the kind of kid he wasn’t allowed to be when he was growing up. 

 

He hums again, moving on from the conversation. “Speaking of, have you talked to Chris recently?”

Chris is something that’s come up a couple times, especially once it became clear that Buck knew about his existence. Listening to Eddie talk about being a dad is one of Buck’s favorite things, maybe even more so than when they talk about him making Eddie feel good when he’s sleeping. 

 

His baby lights up when his son is mentioned, even when it’s accompanied by a very clear, heavy amount of guilt. 

 

Buck had learned about the events that culminated in the explosion of that day, taking a good look at this Kim character. 

 

As someone who definitely has something wired a little funky in his brain, he knows those like him, and a woman that learns the man she’s been seeing only approached her because of her resemblance to his dead wife, and then takes that information and dyes and cuts her own hair and dresses up to make sure she looks exactly like that dead wife, just to push into that aforementioned man’s home and put him through some weird, unwanted exposure therapy? 

 

That’s not the actions of a normal person; Buck knows that like he knows his own name. 

 

Sure enough, he wasn’t the only one hanging around outside of Eddie’s house and driving by his home and place of work. 

 

He is now, of course, but his beautiful baby doesn’t need to know anything about that. Buck knows he’d blocked her number and has been trying every day to move on from it, and that’s all that matters. Besides, she won’t be causing any more problems, so letting Eddie live in ignorance feels like the best option. 

 

A heavy sigh tells him what the answer will be before Eddie puts it in words, but it still hurts. “No, not really. He still hasn’t responded to any texts, and my parents still hover and cut any conversation we do manage to have on FaceTime short. It’s just so frustrating, I don’t get it. I mean, that’s a lie, I do. They never thought I was good enough for Christopher, and maybe I’m not, but he’s mine anyway and it’s just wearing on me every single day that he’s there instead of here.” 

 

Buck hums supportively, knowing his Eddie just needs someone to listen. 

 

He has plans to take care of Eddie’s parents - he hasn’t shared that they’re the ones who contacted him because he doesn’t want to put that on his beautiful boy - but he wonders if he needs to take a trip sooner, just to see if there’s anything else he needs to sniff out down in El Paso. 

 

“He’ll come home, or you’ll figure it out. He’d be crazy not to realize what an amazing dad he has, and from what you’ve told me about him, he knows that.” 

 

“And… what would you say if I was thinking about moving back to Texas to be closer to him?” Eddie asks hesitantly, voice dropping to a scared whisper, his chin falling to his chest, like he’s bracing himself for Buck’s answer, which is- 

 

Well, it’s kind of hysterical, honestly. Does he really think a move would scare Buck off? God, he needs to be a better partner, if so. 

 

“Uhm, beautiful, I would chase you across the world. You moving a few states away is not going to scare me off. I mean, I hope you stay in LA because I think that’s what you really want, where you want to be, but if we’re moving to Texas, then we’re moving to Texas, babe.” 

 

Eddie’s chuckle is relieved and sweet, and Buck wishes he could bottle it up. “Okay well, I haven’t given it too much thought yet, it’s just something I’m tossing around, because you’re right, I would prefer if Chris came home, but I will keep you updated,” he promises, because he’s sweet and considerate like that. 

 

Buck’s the luckiest guy in the world and unfortunately, he doesn’t even get to bask in that because he’s pulling into his stupid work. “Sounds perfect, beautiful. I just pulled into work, so I’ve gotta go, but think of me today?” 

 

Eddie hums warmly. “All day every day, baby. I’ll talk to you later.” 

Notes:

Ayeee, bye Kim 🥳🥳🥳 I couldn't decide whether to make her a stalker or not, but I figured it worked well enough within her canon character like. That girl crazy lol.

I'm ✨very✨ excited for the next chapter, the actions spurned basically this entire fic bc I was obsessed w the idea. Plus, it goes hand in hand w this one, so I couldn't decide if I should've left them as one chapter or not, but it's fine lol.

Chapter 5

Notes:

HI I FUCKING LOVE THIS CHAPTER IT'S SO FUN LOL.

It's Eddie POV, which is why I felt like I needed to separate them, but it's so fuunnnn.

It's all smut, and this is where the consensual somnophilia/ consent issues come up, but it's really not a problem bc they're both so completely into it, but if you don't want to read it, you can skip this chapter bc it's mostly all smut lol

Eddie’s taken to leaving the curtains in his bedroom open on days he doesn’t work, and maybe that’s insane of him, knowing that he’s got somebody literally stalking him, but… 

 

It’s Buck, and he’s not scared of Buck. Maybe he should be, maybe there’s something in his brain that’s loose, but he likes the attention. He likes that Buck is dangerous but that he looked at Eddie and decided he was something that deserved to live, that he was somebody worth loving. Buck sees a person that deserves effort and understanding and love, and Eddie feels like a sunflower finally getting a glimpse of the sun after being locked in a dark, dingy closet his whole life. 

 

That sun now wakes him up, spilling bright light across his eyelids and disturbing his slumber, but he doesn’t mind. 

 

Before Buck’s appearance in his life, getting out of bed every day was akin to torture - with Chris out of the house, he didn’t have any desire to go on. His son was the only reason he even tried most days, and waking up to a cold, empty house every single day made him want to go out and find someone else to direct the empty rage inside of him on. 

 

He never did, because he needed his job to cover bills, but it always lived inside of him, that swirling, black mass of tendrils. 

 

Buck though, he saw the black mass, the anger and the hurt and the confusion, and he waded directly into it. He reached out and asked to be wrapped up in them, and now, Eddie has no plans on letting him go. 

 

He lays in bed for a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of being warm and comfortable. He’s been sleeping really well recently, dreams that he can’t quite remember upon waking but that he knows he enjoyed in the moment. 

 

He groans, stretching all his muscles out pleasantly, feeling them tug and pull, the way only that first stretch of the day can feel, and he smiles, eyes still closed against the sunshine. 

 

Today’s going to be good, he can just tell. 

 

He’s on the start of four days off and it’s Valentine’s Day; normally, he wouldn’t care about that, but now he has Buck, and he’d been dropping hints that he was doing something special for today, and he can’t wait to find out what it is. 

 

He’s hoping he’ll finally get to see Buck, if nothing else. 

 

They’ve been talking for a couple of weeks now, even though it feels like longer. He can feel eyes on him, has sworn that he can make out a large figure out of the corner of his eye sometimes, but it’s always gone before he can gather any details. 

 

All he has is a voice, and it’s a nice voice - a hot, smooth, sweet, perfect voice, but only a voice all the same. 

 

He’s guessing that they’re roughly the same age, between the timber of the voice and some of the stories Buck has told, but he doesn’t know anything else about what the love of his life looks like. 

 

And yeah, okay, maybe throwing that phrase around feels a little fast, but it’s not - not for Eddie. It feels like he’s known Buck his entire life, like they’re made from the same stars. He recognizes Buck the same way that he knows himself, so it’s easy for Eddie to accept who Buck is to him. He’ll never want anybody that isn’t him for the rest of his life. 

 

He finally opens his eyes, turning his back away from the sun to face the bed to try and save his vision for a moment longer, but when they open, he’s faced with the sight of red flower petals sprinkled lovingly all over his comforter. 

 

He inhales sharply, reaching out to run his fingers over the soft petals, his heart melting at the incredibly sweet gesture. Buck. 

 

He’s still basking in the feeling when his phone pings on the nightstand, and he rolls back over with a growing smile, already knowing whose contact he’s going to see. 

 

Of course, it’s Buck, just like he expected. 

 

Buck ❤️: Good morning! Happy Valentine’s Day, my beautiful baby. I hope you slept well 😉

 

He grins at the text, not remembering the last time a sweet text like this made him feel so adored, but before he can even respond, another message comes through. 

 

It’s a picture, no accompanying text, and it’s… indecent , to say the least. 

 

It’s a selfie, very clearly of lips wrapped around a dick - just the head, so the face is barely in view. He can’t really tell anything specific about the picture other than it was taken in the dark with a flash on, but something simmers in his gut. He thinks- Is that-? 

 

The next one that rolls in is a video. It’s still dark, no flash this time so he can’t see anything, but the noises that accompany make very clear what is happening - the quiet slick, sometimes gurgling noise of a messy blowjob. 

 

He doesn’t know what this is, who this is, but at the same time, he does. He knows that this is him, that Buck somehow got into his house and gave him a filthy blowjob. 

 

He should be terrified, he knows. He should be absolutely horrified, should be calling the police and checking into a hotel room, should be scared out of his mind that someone he’s never met in person before was able to get inside his home and touch him while he slept. 

 

He should be petrified. 

 

Instead, he’s hard. 

 

Blood deserts every other part of his body in a mad rush to his dick, he’s almost dizzy with it, and he’s on the edge with anticipation. He doesn’t know how he knows that more is coming, but he knows it all the same. 

 

It’s only mildly infuriating that he still hasn’t seen Buck’s whole face, but this is more than he had before, and the sight of those vividly pink lips wrapped around his dick is an image he won’t ever be forgetting. 

 

He jumps when the next video pops up, this one from a different angle, a different quality - like Buck put a professional camera in his bedroom somewhere up high, likely on top of one of the door frames or something, which does things to him, realizing that Buck always has an eye on him, is always watching out for him and thinking about him - and he whines out loud when he finally understands what the video is showing. 

 

It’s in night vision, everything tinted green, but he can very clearly see a large man curled up behind him, his head buried between his cheeks, and the wet noises confirm - Buck ate him out in his sleep. 

 

He can very clearly see himself in this video, his face lax in sleep, sprawled out on his side without a care in the world, like there isn’t currently someone burying their tongue in him. 

 

He reaches down to squeeze himself, so turned on that he’s amazed he hasn’t shot off already, especially when the video goes for several minutes. 

 

There are over four minutes of Buck eating him out, quiet moans coming from him like it’s the first meal he’s had after years of starvation, of himself huffing noisy breaths every once in a while. 

 

He watches himself cum on a towel that must have been laid out beforehand, which only serves to make him feel more insane. 

 

He recognizes the boxers that had been pushed down to his knees as ones he wore 2 days ago. 2 days ago, Buck was here, his tongue inside Eddie. 

 

A message pops up after the video, and he scrambles to read it, feeling his face grow hotter at the words. 

 

Buck ❤️: Anytime u want ate out, call me. Idgaf what I’m doing, u deserve my tongue whenever u want it. Whether you’re horny or bored or you just can’t sleep PLS call me and let me fuck ur pretty little ass w my tongue, I’m addicted now. 

 

Before he can even try to kick his brain back into gear from where it’s melted, another video comes in. 

 

This one is from a cell phone again and it’s- 

 

Oh my god Buck is fucking him in his sleep in this one. 

 

He damn near chokes as he pulls it up and presses play, holding his breath as he watches fingers press into him a few times, seemingly pleased that he’s sufficiently stretched, before that same hand wraps around the base of Buck’s dick (and honestly, hell yeah, he can’t wait to ride that fat cock for the rest of his life, holy fucking shit) and gently presses into him.

 

Buck doesn’t move a lot, just slow, gentle grinds that push him a little further into Eddie’s body without upsetting the bed too much. 

 

He jumps when he hears Buck murmur, the phone up by his face so even though he’s quiet, Eddie can still hear every word. 

 

“Look at that baby, God you’re so fucking tight around me. You’re not even awake and you’re desperate for me,” he says, and Eddie watches as Buck reaches in front of him to wrap his free hand around Eddie’s dick, watches his sleeping self press back and forth into the dual stimulation, hears his own garbled groan. 

 

“So fucking beautiful, so perfect, I’ve never seen anything like you before, Jesus Eddie, yeah, squeeze my cock baby, that feels so good,” Buck continues to praise in the video, the camera focused in on where more and more of him is disappearing into Eddie’s body, swallowing it like it was always meant to be there, and Eddie thinks maybe it is. 

 

Maybe that’s why he never woke up when Buck was here, why that never disturbed him - Buck is always supposed to be here, is always with him. He carries Buck inside himself because they’re the same, so he can’t notice that something is wrong because Buck being here, being with him and next to him and inside of him could never be wrong. 

 

He’s exiting out of the video without finishing it, hitting dial even as he reaches down and shoves his boxers down to his thighs, staring at the place where it appears the video camera is - right above his closet door. He can’t see anything that looks like a camera from here, but he’s also kind of cross-eyed at the moment. 

 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he hears as soon as the call connects and he moans, stroking himself with Buck’s voice in his ear. 

 

“Are you watching me right now?” He demands, feeling out of his mind with need and lust. He can’t think of anything else, just the hand on his dick that he wishes was Buck’s mouth and the husky timber in his ear. 

 

“Shit, shit, shit, hold on,” he hears Buck say, scrambling in the background before his voice grows distant, like he was put on speaker. He knows when Buck pulls up what must be a live feed from his room, because his breath stutters. “ Oh, Eddie,” he breathes reverently, like he’s at church, like Eddie is his church. 

 

“You’re fucking killing me Buck, do you have any idea what you do to me?” He’s stroking himself earnestly now, planting his feet to fuck up into his palm. “You want a show, baby? I’ll give you a fucking show,” he promises, throwing his head back and quickening his pace. “You drive me out of my mind. God, I don’t know how I even made it through those videos without coming all over myself, is that what you wanted? You wanted me to come in my boxers like a fucking teenager at the sight of you eating me out, choking on my dick, fucking me while I slept?” 

 

Buck sobs a breath like he’s the one overstimulated with need. “Eddie, fuck baby, you’re so pretty, I just want you to feel good all the time. Do you feel good? Did you like them?”

Eddie scoffs, gritting his teeth as a moan forces its way up his throat, Buck’s voice reminding him of his noises from the video which drives him even higher. “Fuck, liked them? Baby, I fucking loved them. I’m going to be watching them over and over so many times in so many inappropriate places, you’re perfect.” 

 

Buck whines, high in his throat. “Come on beautiful, you’re doing so good, making yourself feel so good, are you gonna come for me? Come on gorgeous, come all over yourself for me, please, I need you to, you deserve to feel good all the time baby, come on.” 

 

Buck’s encouragement is too much for how keyed up he is, and he doesn’t last another full stroke before he’s coming all over his hand and making a mess on his shirt. 

 

The blood is rushing in his ears too loudly for him to make out any words, but he can hear Buck crooning in his ear, his tone dripping praise as Eddie makes his way back to his body from where he’d previously been floating in outer space from the force of that orgasm. 

 

“Wake me up when you come tonight,” he orders simply. 

 

“Who said I’m coming tonight?” Buck counters playfully, still out of breath, like watching Eddie get himself off was just as thrilling for him. 

 

“Me. You’re coming over tonight, and you’re going to wake me up when you eat me out this time.” Eddie’s voice is steady, because he knows that he’s going to get what he wants. Buck wants to make him feel good, wants to be good for him, and that means he’ll do what Eddie asks of him. 

 

Buck’s agreeing as soon as Eddie’s done speaking. “Hell, yeah I am, whatever you want beautiful.”

 

Eddie grins, face flushing again, feeling a little shy. He knew that Buck would do it, but it’s still kind of drugging to hear his immediate capitulation. 

 

Plus, the pet names always get him too. Buck calls him beautiful, calls him baby and Eddie melts. 

 

He’s gotten pet names before, of course. Been told he was handsome or hot, but never beautiful. Never gorgeous, never pretty. 

 

He likes it though - loves it, actually. It feels like Buck is unlocking all these new parts of himself and basking in each one, like every single part he finds that Eddie has been hiding away under lock and key are actually completely fine. It’s overwhelming in the best way. 

 

“However, if I’m coming over tonight, then I need you to do something for me,” Buck continues over the phone, and Eddie’s ears perk up. 

 

“Oh, really?” He asks salaciously, mind whirring with possibilities about what Buck could possibly need from him. 

 

“In your nightstand, in the 2nd drawer, there’s a sleep mask. I want you to wear it when you go to bed tonight.” 

 

Eddie hums, his brows furrowed in confusion as he leans over and rifles through the drawer in question, finding the plain black mask quickly, his dick twitching at the realization that Buck must have been planning on this, must have known Eddie was going to as and prepared for it, set himself up to give Eddie what he wants. “Why?” 

 

“I don’t want you to see me yet,” is Buck’s response, which draws Eddie up short, his gaze darting to the area of the camera again. 

 

“Why not?” This question is slower, a quiet hurt in his voice. Buck knows what he looks like, knows practically everything about him, according to him, but Eddie isn’t even allowed to see him? It makes him sad. 

 

“Oh baby, don’t give me those eyes, please,” Buck groans helplessly, and Eddie has to fight to keep the vindicated smirk off his face. “It’s not forever, don’t look at me like that. It’s just the next phase,” he explains, which only suffices to confuse Eddie further. 

 

“The next phase?” 

 

“Yeah, of my plan to Woo Eddie Diaz,” Buck confirms, like Eddie’s supposed to know what he’s talking about, sighing when he continues to look at the camera with a droll expression. “It’s a system, Eddie. I’m doing this right; I’m going to woo you and treat you so good, so you’ll never want to leave.” There’s a pause as Eddie processes his words, heart aching at the meaning behind the words, like Buck is used to being left, and he’s trying to do all of this, these intricate plans, so that Eddie will see his value and not leave him. 

 

“Plus, I think it’s incredibly hot.”

 

The admission startles a laugh out of him, one that Buck echoes, sounding very pleased with himself, the ache in his chest lessening with the sound. 

 

“It’s just for right now, pretty please? Soon enough you’re going to see my face all day everyday. First thing in the morning, last thing at night, all the time, you’re going to see me. Can we just enjoy this phase while we’re in it? Enjoy the mystery and the fun before we settle down and start having married people sex?” 

 

The words should not have any effect on him, but they do. 

 

The thought of him and Buck together for life, his face being the first thing Eddie sees in the morning and the last thing he sees at night, of hushed sex under the covers because they need each other so badly but they don’t want to wake Chris up, it’s intoxicating. 

 

He’d be lying if he said that this isn’t fun too though. 

 

The mystery, the cloak and dagger of it all. It’s exciting, thrilling in a way he’s never felt before, and he’s absolutely enjoying it. 

 

He thinks he could push, if he really wanted to. If he pouted and whined, Buck would give in and give up on the blindfold, but Eddie finds that he doesn’t want to. 

 

Still, he sighs heavily, like he’s being put out, even though he knows Buck can see the smile on his face. “Well, I guess, if you really want me to wear the mask,” he hedges, biting his lip when Buck starts begging. 

 

“I really really do, Eddie, please? I promise I’ll make it worth it; it’s going to be so good. It’s going to boost all your other senses, you’re going to love it, I promise.” 

 

“Buck, sweetheart, I love everything you do to me,” he finally admits, giving up the game happily. “I’ll wear the blindfold when I go to sleep tonight, and you wake me up this time.” 

 

“Deal.” 

 

Eddie grins, running his fingers over the bed of roses. “Okay good. I’ll see you tonight.” 

Notes:

Have fun? Did you like? Idk, I love writing them like this, and it carries over into the next chapter too bc I'm a huge fan of freak4freak buddie lol.

Also, I know Buck is probably a goofy ass texter, but I simply cannot text that way, (I am a proper lady tyvm 🤣), so he's a little more proper than he probably is canonically, and I refuse to apologize for that lol.

Chapter 6

Notes:

Okay, this will probably be the last chapter for today bc we're going to leave soon, and I should spend some more time w my grandparents and my sweet puppy who has been missing me over the last couple days, but this is another smut chapter, so that's fun, right??

Buck keeps his promise and uses the key he’d copied weeks ago to enter Eddie’s house later that night. 

 

He usually waited until Eddie had a busy day at work to sneak into the house, especially if he was going to get him off while he slept, because his baby was right when he said that he was a light sleeper. There’d been a few times, even when Buck waited until he was exhausted and deeply asleep, that he’d nearly stirred and caught Buck in the act. 

 

It was fun, there wasn’t anything actually riding on him getting away with it, but it was a matter of pride. 

 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to worry about waking Eddie up tonight - he’s supposed to wake him up, and that sends a shiver of anticipation and glee down his spine as he creeps down the hall, towards the bedroom. 

 

He pauses once he reaches his destination, letting his gaze slide over his love. He’d given in to Buck’s plea to wear the sleep mask, the fabric snug over his eyes. 

 

He’s the one that pushed for it, the one that insisted on doing this his way, but he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a little part of him that’s a little sad that he won’t have those wide, brown eyes on him. 

 

Shaking his nonsensical melancholy away, he smirks when he takes in the rest of Eddie’s pajamas, which consist of a pair of cutoff sweat shorts and nothing else, his normal sleep shirt nowhere to be seen, and Buck’s heart squeezes that Eddie did this for him. He knew Buck was coming and forewent a shirt, giving Buck direct access to his skin. 

 

He has to fight a lovesick sigh. What a man. 

 

As much as Buck would love to stand here and watch as Eddie sleeps (and believe him, he would. He has spent more than one night doing nothing more than that), he figures he should get to what he came here for. 

 

He’s careful as he slides into the empty side of the bed, the side that he’s started to think of as his, not wanting to wake Eddie up before he’s ready. 

 

His Eddie was very clear in what he wanted - to be woken up with Buck’s tongue inside of him, and he’s more than happy to make sure his Eddie gets whatever he wants. 

 

Pulling the shorts down is a test in patience, Eddie keeps stirring in his sleep, forcing Buck to stop and let him settle again before continuing. 

 

It was all worth it though when he got them down, freeing the plump globes of his Eddie’s ass to the room and, more importantly, to Buck’s gaze, and what an ass it is. 

 

It deserved sonnets and poems written about it; the way it felt in his hands, the way it jiggled, the power in his thrusts. God, Buck’s a lucky man. 

 

He leans forward, eyes completely focused on the cute little furled hole when his thumbs part Eddie’s cheeks. He groans when his tongue makes contact, when he feels it clench beneath his taste buds. The taste of Eddie is intoxicating; skin and the hint of salty sweat; he could get lost in it, and he does. 

 

He told Eddie to call him whenever he wanted ate out, and Buck meant that instruction so seriously. He’d willingly spend days back here, buried between these cheeks, until he jaw went numb and his tongue fell out. 

 

He grins when a sweet groan meets his ears, a clear sign that Eddie is enjoying his ministrations, and Buck can’t wait until he can hear those noises from his awake voice. He wonders if Eddie’s going to be louder or quieter when he’s aware of what’s going on. 

 

He hopes he’s louder, but there’s something about his Eddie that makes Buck think he’s going to have to work for it - something he’s more than willing to do. 

 

Knowing that Eddie had a mostly relaxing day, it probably won’t take much to wake him - he’s kind of surprised he hasn’t awoken yet, in all honesty - so he quits quieting his own noises, letting every moan and whine fall from his lips that he’d swallowed down before to let them fill the room while he reached around and tugged on Eddie’s naked, hard cock. 

 

The body beneath him jolts, jerking to consciousness with a confused noise that quickly leads into a low, quiet moan. 

 

“Buck? Oh shit, Buck, oh my God.” Eddie grinds back, reaching behind him to grab at Buck’s head, forcing him to stay in place. 

 

“Hi, gorgeous. Good dreams?” Buck inquires innocently, bullying his tongue past the furl of muscles, delighted when Eddie whines through clenched teeth, tugging on his hair so hard it stings. 

 

“Oh yeah, you need it so bad baby,” Buck coos, pulling away slightly to make room to bring his hand up, dipping his middle finger in Eddie’s body, meeting practically no resistance. 

 

He’s mesmerized by the sight of his finger disappearing into Eddie, transfixed yet again by the heat and the silkiness of his passage; he has no idea how long he stays there, watching Eddie slowly open up on three of Buck’s fingers before Eddie makes a frustrated noise, the next yank on Buck’s hair completely intentional. 

 

“I’m done, stop fucking around, come here,” Eddie hisses in agitation, apparently done with foreplay and ready to move on, and who is Buck to ignore a command like that? 

 

He clambers up the bed, fitting himself flush against Eddie’s back, placing a kiss to the skin of his cheek beneath the blindfold before grabbing his chin to tilt his head back and capturing his lips in a kiss that quickly grows out of control. 

 

“Buck, Buck baby please, need you to fill me, ‘m so empty,” he cries. One day, Buck will be able to tease Eddie about how needy and desperate he is, tease him about how badly he needs Buck, but right now, their first time, it hurts his heart to hear his Eddie like this - like he’s in pain and Buck is the only one who can fix it. 

 

“I’ve got you Eddie, I’m going to take care of you; you’re so beautiful,” he babbles, grabbing himself at the base and notching his head at Eddie’s hole, feeling the sigh against his lips when he sinks all the way in, finally together, conjoined like one being. 

 

“ Jesus,” Buck swears, squeezing his eyes shut and tightening his grip on Eddie’s hip in an effort to stop from embarrassing himself. 

 

“God, Buck. S’big, can feel you in my throat.” Eddie’s confession is slurred, his back arching as he gets used to the feeling. 

 

“Yeah, you like that?” Buck asks, his gravelly voice unable to hide the thread of doubt that runs beneath it. What if it’s too big? What if it’s too overwhelming for their first time?

 

His worries are allayed when Eddie snorts condescendingly, rolling his hips forward before shoving back. “Love it, move,” he demands, like he’s unable to speak in full sentences, which is doing wonders for Buck’s ego. 

 

He chuckles, pulling out slowly before fucking back in, grinning viciously when Eddie gasps and moans; he devotes himself to discovering every single noise his beautiful baby is capable of making, trying every angle and every pace he can imagine in this position because he can’t imagine pulling out long enough to find a new position. 

 

Besides, this one seems to be working just fine, based on the growing volume of Eddie’s groans, the fervency with which he shoves himself back on Buck and the brokenness of his sentences that still manage to drive Buck out of his mind. 

 

“Fuck, Buck, oh my god, so good. Y’fuck me so good sweetheart, love your cock. God you’re so big, yes yes yes like that, right there, right there. Fuck you’re- I’m gonna come, please make me come,” he begs, damn near drawing blood from where his fingers are gripping the back Buck’s neck. 

 

Buck has his top leg pulled up to rest in the crook of his elbow, opening Eddie up and leaving him in the perfect position to bully his prostate with every stroke, his cock - flushed and hard and leaking - on full display, and Buck is suddenly furious that he isn’t flexible enough to lean down and take it in his mouth. 

 

Why can’t he fuck Eddie and suck him off at the same time? This has to be some kind of design flaw, it’s bullshit. 

 

He remembers people removing ribs to slim down and add more flexibility, and he thinks that might be a solution. Why the hell would he want all these ribs if they prohibit him from taking care of his Eddie the way that he deserves? 

 

He should be able to contort himself to both fuck Eddie and take him inside his own body, some pretzeled, twisted mess to give Eddie the most pleasure, and it’s infuriating that he can’t. 

 

The thought of using a toy to do it instead is just as maddening, because it shouldn’t be up to anyone else. The only things that should be inside of Eddie or that Eddie should be in is Buck. 

 

He supposed he could do a clone of his dick or his hole, and it could be fine, he guesses. Not optimal, but fine. 

 

It’s something to think about for the future, for sure, but for right now, all he can do is release Eddie’s thigh from his hold in favor of reaching down to wrap his hands around his cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts, kissing at Eddie’s neck and his ear. 

 

“So beautiful Eddie, you’re amazing, please come, need to feel you come on my cock, pretty please baby I need it. You look so good like this, God, wanted to come as soon as I saw you sleeping in this mask, sprawled out on your bed and waiting for me. Please Eddie, please please come, you deserve it, you did so good, beautiful.” 

 

His words seem to be the tipping point because Eddie’s body clamps down on his cock, a deep, drawn-out moan spilling from his throat as he spurts all over Buck’s hands, and that’s all it takes for Buck to lose it too, whining high in his throat, burying his face in Eddie’s shoulder as he finishes, buried deep inside. 

 

Despite how filthy that was, Buck can’t help but feel sweet now, needy in the soft kisses he places against the back of Eddie’s shoulder, the soft hums that rumble gently against his skin. 

 

When Eddie reaches down and links their fingers together, his head falls lax against Buck, like he’s feeling it too. 

 

“Missed you,” Eddie whispers into the darkness, wiggling his shoulders to get more comfortably back against Buck’s chest, his words hitting Buck roughly in the chest, and he has to swallow thickly before he can respond. 

 

“I missed you too. Feels like I’ve been missing you my whole life,” he admits roughly, burying his nose in Eddie’s dark hair, breathing in the scent of sweat and shampoo, letting it fill his lungs until he aches. 

 

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs back, the entire universe contained within that word, letting Buck know for sure that he’s not alone in this. 

 

He’d love to lay here all night, but as the sweat is cooling on his skin and he softens and slips out of Eddie, he knows they need to clean up if they’re going to sleep at some point. 

 

He sighs, kissing Eddie’s cheek again. “Stay here beautiful, I’m going to grab a washcloth and clean us up a bit,” he informs his lover, wanting him to know what’s going on since he can’t see anything. 

 

He doesn’t get anything more than a sleepy grunt in return, but he takes that as a compliment. 

 

After cleaning himself up roughly, he rinses the rag in warm water and takes it back to the bedroom, running it gently over Eddie, trying to get most of the cum off of his skin so he can sleep before tossing it in the hamper beside the closet. 

 

“Stay?” Eddie asks uncertainly, like it was ever a question, and Buck takes great joy in sliding back on the bed and wrapping his arms around Eddie, who turns to tuck himself under Buck’s chin before his body relaxes completely in the embrace, boneless and trusting and perfect. 

 

“You’re never getting rid of me now, Diaz,” Buck grins, pressing a lingering kiss to Eddie’s forehead, the fabric of the mask brushing against his chin, and he can’t wait until he can take it off, can see the haze in those brown eyes, watch as the flutter during an orgasm, see them half-lidded and hungry or shining in joy. 

 

It takes everything in him not to reach down and rip it off now, but he has a plan; an itinerary, and damn it, he’s going to stick to it. 

 

He’s waited for Eddie his whole life; he can wait a little tiny bit longer.

Notes:

Yay? Buck being furious that he can't bend enough to suck Eddie off while fucking him was hysterical to write, I was cackling while writing, it was wonderful, I hope you guys liked it as much as I did lol.

I'll be back probably Thursday/Friday with the last couple chapters. I don't know exactly when my aunt is coming home so I don't know for sure when, but I will finish updating! Sorry for the delays, I hope you can forgive me lol.

Chapter 7

Notes:

Uploading the rest of this today!! I had to come home a little early to do laundry and change bags and stuff, boring, anyway, so I figured I'd give you guys the rest of the story!!! There are only a couple chapters left, so I hope you're all ready!!

It’s been almost a week since Valentine’s Day, since Buck started waking Eddie up when he crawled into his bed, and he was right - the mask is fun. Seeing Eddie grabbing for him, not quite knowing where he is but knowing that he needs him, feeling his fingers tracing Buck’s face after they finish every night the same way he touches his body in the heat of the moment, like he’s memorizing the feel of him, trying to paint a picture of him by touch alone, it makes Buck feel treasured, adored. 

 

He’d held Eddie extra tight two nights ago, knowing that he’s out of town for a few days. Eddie doesn’t know where, just that Buck promised he’d come home to him as soon as he possibly could. 

 

Eddie has no idea he’s in Texas right now, sitting in his car across the street from his parent’s house, watching them through a pair of binoculars. 

 

He sees them moving around the house, Helena constantly hovering around Christopher like a gnat around dying fruits. He watches as Christopher gets frustrated by it, trying to stand up for himself but being shut down without remorse until he retreats to his bedroom, alone in a house full of people that are supposed to love and support him. 

 

He watches as Helena and Ramon speak, looking down the hall every couple of seconds, obviously talking about Christopher and his behavior. 

 

It equally impresses and infuriates Buck, if he’s being honest. 

 

They knew exactly how to get him, spinning a story about an abusive, absent, dangerous father and grandparents that just wanted to do better for their family. It was perfect, and if he wasn’t as thorough as he was, it would have held up; Eddie Diaz would be dead right now and his son would be trapped in this home for the rest of his life. 

 

They’re good, but thank God, Buck is better . 

 

He waits until they go to bed that night, having snuck in while they were all out during the day and stirred a sleep aid into their gallon of sweet tea that he knows they never let Christopher drink from, claiming that it’s too much sugar for the kid. Buck thinks that’s bullshit, that the whole point of being a kid is consuming more sugar than you really need, but it does make this easier on him. 

 

He doesn’t want to mess with Christopher, regardless of the fact that the powder doesn’t have any side-effects. This is Eddie’s baby, and he deserves to be treated with the utmost care and respect, and Buck is going to do everything in his power to ensure that that happens. 

 

He’s not really worried about waking them up while he’s working, he’s pretty confident in his abilities to get into and out of places without being detected - he’s trying really hard not to think about getting into Eddie every night and just how easy that is because it is not the appropriate time but fuck, he does love to think about it - but he hasn’t scoped this house out as thoroughly as he had Eddie’s, and the less he has to deal with Helena and Ramon Diaz, the better, in his opinion. 

 

So, he waits until they all climb into bed and the drug has time to kick in before he jimmies open the window in the dining room that he noticed the lock was broken on and slides his way into the house silently. 

 

This is a recon mission - he’s gathering intel on weaknesses in the home and information about its inhabitants. 

 

He’s already decided that Helena and Ramon are going to die, now he’s just finding the best way to do it. 

 

He creeps through the darkened house, letting his eyes roam, noting anything that seems important. 

 

There are locks on all the cabinets and on the fridge, but he easily picks those, getting to the food hidden within; he’d be impressed that they seem to all eat very healthy, if not incredibly bland and boring foods, if it weren’t for the fact that those aren’t the only foods stocked. There are brand name snacks and drinks put up on high shelves, where only an adult could reach, that have previously been opened and resealed with various levels of contents left, which makes him think the boring, bland that is significantly fuller across the board than everything else, isn’t the go-to for the family as a whole. 

 

He’d bet money on them being the only food Christopher is allowed to eat though, and he tries to swallow down his anger as he locks it all back up, leaving no trace of his snooping. 

 

After searching the rest of the house and finding more of the same - locked cabinets, safety scissors and plastic cups - he casts his eyes down the hall, knowing he needs to make one final stop before he leaves: Christopher’s room. 

 

He’s hoping that the teen is sleeping soundly. It didn’t feel right to slip him anything, wouldn’t be able to look his Eddie in the face and admit that he’d drugged his baby, even if it was for nothing more than a good sleep, so he can only cross his fingers and hope that he’s a heavier sleeper than his dad. 

 

Buck pushes open the door slowly, breathing a silent sigh of relief when it moves without a squeak, stepping carefully to avoid any creaking in the floorboards as he makes his way across the room to his destination, which is the phone charging on the desk - he has some theories, and he wants to see if he’s right or not. 

 

He’s pretty sure he is, but proof is never a bad thing, especially in his line of work. 

 

He’s mid-scroll confirming his thoughts, when a sleepy voice behind him sounds. “Who are you?” 

 

Buck damn near drops the phone, his heart leaping to his throat in a way he doesn’t think it ever has. 

 

Damn, something about these Diaz boys, their ability to catch him completely off-guard. 

 

“ Shit . Hi, you’re supposed to be asleep,” Buck notes, nonsensically, cringing when he realizes he just cussed in front of a kid. 

 

Said kid peers up at him through bleary, judgmental eyes as he reaches clumsily for his glasses. “And you’re not supposed to be in here, so I guess we’re both disappointed,” Christopher deadpans, refusing to take his eyes off of Buck. 

 

He’s a little freaked out, if he’s being honest. First of all, this is Christopher - Eddie’s whole entire life. He wanted to make a good impression on the kid, not scare him by sneaking into his bedroom in the middle of the night. 

 

Second of all, he’s way less scared than a kid should be when they wake up to find a stranger in their room, and now Buck is a little wary of him instead of the other way around. 

 

Still, he dips his head in acknowledgment of his point. “I’m Buck,” he then says, answering his first question. “I’m a friend of your dad’s.” 

 

Chris’ face goes hard at that, like he’s been transformed by Buck’s words into a slab of concrete that’s just shaped like a human child. 

 

“Well then I can’t imagine why you’re here then; my dad quit giving a shit about me a long time ago,” Chris snarks, his jaw jumping in the same way that Buck has seen Eddie’s do when he’s upset. 

 

“Well, I know for a fact that’s a lie, and,” Buck stresses, holding a finger up when Chris opens his mouth to argue, a sharp, cold look in his eyes that lets him know he has one chance to do this right. “I can prove it.” 

 

That seems to get his attention, so Buck - figuring the whole sneaking around bit was done for the night - plops down on the floor beside the bed, bringing Christopher’s phone with him and pulling his own out too. 

 

“I saw in your texts that you’ve reached out to your dad a couple of times, and he hasn’t answered, right?” 

 

Chris nods, pursing his lips like he’s trying to keep from crying and Jesus, that shouldn’t hurt his heart nearly this much. 

 

“Well, I also know that your dad texts you every single day, has since very shortly after you left,” he offers, watching as Chris’ eyebrows furrow in confusion, looking at Buck to explain. 

 

“Then, how-?”

 

“Well, this is your contact for your dad, right?” He asks, pulling up the contact info for the thread - a picture of Eddie and Chris making silly faces in a selfie that just about makes Buck’s heart burst. 

 

At Chris’ slow nod, Buck pulls up his own phone, swiping to his contact for Eddie and holding them up side-by-side. “Except that isn’t his number,” he explains, watching as the realization kicks in on Chris’ face, hope starting to break through, and Buck wants to pour gasoline on that fire. 

 

He needs Chris to know that his dad never stopped loving him, never once stopped thinking about him in the months he’s been gone. 

 

Buck knows what that feels like, to be unloved and unwanted, like nobody is on his side, and he’ll be damned if he allows this kid to feel that for one more second. 

 

“And I’ll bet, if we scroll here to the blocked contacts,” he mutters as he swipes, making a victorious noise in his throat when he finds it, exactly like he thought. 

 

“I- I never blocked my dad,” Chris whispers. He’s quiet, his shoulders hunched like he knows the truth but doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to think that it could be real, and God, Buck wishes he could protect the kid from this hurt. 

 

He recognizes the number that was listed under Eddie’s contact, recognizes it from his own phone - his second phone, not that he’ll ever tell Chris that. 

 

Still, he can prove a point without admitting to his Eddie’s son that he was originally pulled in their lives to kill his dad. He thinks he might actually cry if Chris is scared of him now. 

 

“Well, I would bet my next paycheck that if I called this number right here, there would be a phone in your grandparent's room that would ring,” he offers, not mentioning that he knows it would, given that he found the phone in the top of their closet when he was in here earlier today. 

 

Chris looks skeptical though, so Buck quickly hits dial on “Eddie’s” contact, and there, in the quiet of the night, they can hear the faintest melody of a ringtone - Buck’s glad he had the forethought to turn the ringer up, just a hair, earlier. 

 

The triumph of being right is soured by the look of betrayal on Christopher’s face, his wide, hazel eyes filling with tears, even as he tries to stop them. “They- I don’t- I don’t understand,” he admits on a whisper, and Buck aches. 

 

“From what I’ve gathered so far,” he starts slowly, knowing that Chris is old enough to deserve an explanation but not exactly knowing how to break “your grandparents are hell beasts that hired me to kill your dad so they could keep you with them forever” into small, child-friendly pieces, but he can try. “Your grandparents love you. Maybe it’s not in the way that you need, or the way that you deserve, but it’s in the only way that they know how to. Your dad, on the other hand…” 

 

“They don’t love him.” The observation is monotone, bleak, and Buck can only grimace. 

 

“No. Not enough. Not in the way a parent should love their child,” he agrees sadly. “Not in the way your dad loves you.” 

 

They’re quiet for a minute, sitting in the dark of the night, listening to the wind outside, the nocturnal creatures a symphony outside the window as Chris processes everything. 

 

“Can you- I don’t want my dad blocked,” he decides after a minute and Buck is all too happy to pull that blocked list back up and take Eddie’s number off of it with a vicious kind of glee before handing it back to Chris. 

 

“Listen, I know that you trusted your grandparents to come and let you stay with them, but if it were me, I would save your dad’s actual number under a different name; especially if your grandparents check your phone,” Buck suggests, watching as Chris’ nose flares in frustration. 

 

“Yeah, they do. I’m pretty sure they put some kind of controls on here too,” he admits through clenched teeth. 

 

Buck weighs the options. On one hand, if they check his phone, they’re going to see that the controls have been taken off, and that could get Chris in trouble. On the other, he doesn’t think Chris really wants to be here in Texas anymore, so really, how much longer is it going to be a problem? 

 

In the end, the choice is simple. “Here, let me show you how to take them off, as well as any tracking or mirroring they might have put on here.” 

 

This way, maybe Chris can take back some of the control that’s been stripped away from him by those who should’ve been looking out for him. 

 

Buck’s there for far longer than he should be, much longer than he planned, his ass is long since numb from his seat on the floor and Chris’ eyelids keep drooping shut, but the boy keeps talking, and he’s kind of amazing, so Buck is more than happy to be there for as long as he’s wanted. 

 

“It’s weird that they didn’t wake up when the phone rang,” Chris remarks, settling down further into his bed, sleep making his eyes heavy, and Buck badly suppresses a chuckle. 

 

“Ah yeah, well…” he hesitates, looking down at the teenage boy he just met, but thinks he might burn the world down for anyway. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

 

Chris nods readily, eyes sparking with mischief, and Buck feels himself growing softer and softer, the heart he’d figured would only ever beat for Eddie growing to encompass this boy too. “I’m not, but that’s only because they’re mildly sedated. If they offer you any sweet tea, don’t drink it,” he warns with a wink, grinning when Chris covers his mouth with his hand and laughs into it, trying to muffle the sound. 

 

“You drugged my abuelos?” He manages to ask after a minute, and Buck shrugs, unashamed. 

 

“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do,” he offers in explanation, rolling his shoulders to try and find a more comfortable spot. “Besides, no offense, but your grandparents kind of suck.” 

 

Chris chuckles softly, the lack of rest catching up to him, and Buck gets to watch as he finally gives into sleep’s sweet embrace. “Yeah, they do. Good thing I’m going home soon.” 

 

Buck can barely contain his cheer of excitement, silently pumping his arms up in victory like he just scared the game-winning touchdown - it takes a lot of effort not to get up and do a victory dance, but he doesn’t want to disturb Chris. 

 

Instead, he reaches over and carefully pulls the glasses off of his nose and sets them on the bedside table where he got them from earlier, hooks his phone back up to the charger again and gently sweeps the curls that have fallen into his eyes back, heart aching as he makes his way back out of the house. 

 

That ache is present on the entire 12-hour drive back to LA, and as much as he’s loved having Eddie all to himself the past couple of months, Buck can’t wait until Chris is home too. 

Plus, the thought of Eddie in dad-mode is doing something to Buck’s blood, leaving him counting down the miles until he gets home

Notes:

Buck & Chris have finally met, yay!!!

This might be ooc for Chris, he'd probably be more freaked out that there was a stranger in his room, but the whole point is that Buck & Eddie have this magical, cosmic connection, so it would only make sense that some of that carries over to Chris as well, so that was my thought behind it. Besides, Buck should've been with them years ago, so it only makes sense that they click as quickly as they do - at least, in my brain it does, and my brain wrote the story. So, what I say goes lol.

Also, anybody surprised that Buck is planning on killing the Diaz parents? No? Yeah okay, I figured, but now we get to see how he does it. I can't remember how I have the rest of this broken up, but I think there's somewhere between 1-3 chapters left, idfk lol.

Chapter 8

Notes:

The breeding kink tag comes into play this chapter, but there isn't any smut (yet), just some heavy kissing. So does the consent issue, a little bit? Buck thinks about something, but he doesn't actually do it, so I feel like it's fine, but just in case anybody is squiggly about stuff like that.

He doesn’t even bother trying to be quiet when he walks into Eddie’s house that night, tearing his shirt off and leaving it in the hallway as he hoofs it to Eddie’s room, his boots landing heavily on the floor before he manages to step out of them, only just barely avoiding tripping and landing on his ass. 

 

Eddie’s asleep on his side - sans the mask, since he didn’t know when Buck was going to be home - and Buck gently shoves him onto his back, covering Eddie with his weight, grabbing his face to pull him into a kiss. “Eddie, Eddie, wake up,” he pleads. 

 

Eddie’s kiss is sleepy and confused, but return it he does, making a confused noise, his hands raising to cup Buck’s cheeks. 

 

“Bu- Buck, wh- hi,” he grumbles sluggishly, his eyes fluttering open, widening at the realization that the mask isn’t blocking his sight. 

 

“You forgot the mask,” he breathes, and then Buck is on his back, a breath punched out of him as Eddie swaps their positions, his gaze greedily raking across Buck, like he’s trying to memorize every pore, every freckle. 

 

“No, I didn’t forget it. I just figured it was time,” he corrects softly, leaning into the touch when Eddie’s palm lands on the side of his head, his hand warm and rough and kind, gentle in the way that Buck doesn’t remember anybody ever touching him. 

 

“You- Buck ,” Eddie whispers, his pointer finger tracing the edges of his birthmark, and Buck melts. “It’s so good to see you; I missed you.” 

 

Buck groans softly, covering Eddie’s hand with his own, feeling something about the way his fingers don’t quite cover Eddie’s. “God, I missed you too. That was way too long without my Eddie,” he states seriously, and Eddie laughs. 

 

“Yeah, you can’t go away again; we shouldn’t ever be apart that long, for any reason.” Eddie’s bottom lip is jutted out, the cutest little pout gracing his lip, and Buck’s too weak to resist the urge to lean up and suck it in between his. 

 

“Good, agreed. For right now though, I need you to fuck a baby in me,” Buck demands, grinning at the shellshocked look on Eddie’s face, the coughing fit that wracks his chest that he hides in Buck’s chest. 

 

“You- you what?” He clarifies when he finally manages to catch his breath, his eyes wide. 

 

They’re also dark and hot, somehow hotter than Buck even imagined. It gives him the encouragement to keep pushing. 

 

“Yeah. I met Chris, and oh my God, Eddie, he’s amazing. You’re- I knew you were a good dad but to see it in action? Jesus, it’s like-”

“Wait, you met Chris?” Eddie interrupts, the heat in his eyes banking just a little, worry and curiosity taking its place, his spine straightening from where he’d been hunched over Buck. “How is he? Is he okay? What happened?”

 

“He’s okay, okay as he can be,” Buck corrects himself, grabbing Eddie’s hand with his and resting them over his heart. “He’s- God, you Diazes. I was watching your parents house, checking it out - did you know they don’t let that kid have any pop? No pop, no extra sugar, nothing. They don’t even let him drink sweet tea, Eddie. They lock all the cabinets and the fridge so he’s completely reliant on them for everything. He should be hiding away in his room, stuffing his face with chips and slamming Mountain Dews during video game marathons at least once a month, but he can’t, because that house is a damn prison.” 

 

He’s ranting, letting his own frustration at the way Christopher is being treated out. He thought he’d cooled down, but now he’s not so sure about that. “They hover over him all day, everyday, like if they let him do anything for himself, he’s going to break. I could literally see how frustrated he was getting, but anyway, somehow , he managed to get the drop on me,” Buck shares with a grin, feeling a little bit of probably undeserved pride. 

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, after I made sure your parents were asleep - aided by a mild sedative, of course - I went into the house, because I wanted to see what was going on, and I had a theory about why Chris isn’t texting you, so there I was; dead of the night, quiet enough that not even a mouse could’ve known I was there, and he pops up behind me, demanding to know who I was and why I was there. Eddie, I swear to God, I almost peed myself,” he cries, grinning when Eddie chuckles fondly, his face soft and gooey and Jesus, yeah, he needs to knock Buck up stat. 

 

“So anyway, I told him my name, that I was your friend - I thought that was a safer bet than whatever we actually are, because that might be a lot to go over - and then we got to talking, and I found out that your parents blocked your number on his phone, so your texts weren’t getting through, and then they changed your contact info to a number that they have, so they could ignore any texts that he sends, further driving a wedge between the both of you. They also had all kinds of tracking and parental controls on there that I took off and showed him how to find, should they put them back on, but fuck, they’re a mess.” 

 

Eddie is quiet for a long second and Buck lets him be, running his thumb over the back of the hand still in his grasp. He just dropped a lot of information, it only makes sense that Eddie needs a second to process. 

 

“He’s tried texting me?” He finally asks, scared and hopeful all the same, and it bruises Buck’s heart, his chest caving in a little. 

 

“ Yes,” Buck swears, emphatically. “He’s tried reaching out to you. He’s miserable there, he wants to come home. He’s hurt and scared because he hasn’t gotten any communication from you that isn’t heavily monitored by your parents, so he thinks that you don’t want him, but Eddie, I sat there and talked to that kid for hours last night; he loves you, he wants to be with you, not them.” 

 

The hand in his squeezes, Eddie’s mouth pursing in thought; Buck can practically see them all racing through his head, over and over in a loop, trying to process it all and put the pieces  together in a way that fits. 

 

“Is my son in danger with them?” Eddie’s question is barely above a whisper; he’s scared to know the answer, but knows he needs it all the same. 

 

Buck’s answer is a little bit more complicated. “Not… physically, no.”

 

“But they are the ones that hired you to kill me, and they are bad for his mental and emotional health,” Eddie surmises, and Buck nods his agreement, his eyes glued to Eddie’s. 

 

He’s not necessarily surprised when a hand lands around his throat, squeezing just a little bit to disrupt the flow of blood to his brain. He doesn’t care, either. He doesn’t want blood in his brain or oxygen in his lungs if Eddie doesn’t put it there. 

 

“They hired you to kill me, but you’re going to kill them instead, aren’t you?” Eddie asks knowingly. “That’s why you drugged them and looked around the house. You did the same thing here before.” 

 

Buck nods as much as he’s able. “Yes.” 

 

Eddie’s grin is wicked. “And why are you killing them?” He asks pointedly, like he’s expecting a specific response. 

 

“Because they’re awful. They’re awful to Chris and they’re awful to you, and you deserve better.”

 

“And why are you making sure that I get better?” Eddie pushes, his grip tightening again. 

 

Buck’s thoughts race as he tries to come up with whatever answer his Eddie is searching for. “Because nobody has taken care of you your whole life, not the way that you deserve. Not the way that I can.” 

 

Eddie’s hand tightens again, his face dropping until they’re only an inch apart. Dots are starting to dance at the edge of Buck’s vision, and he should be more worried, but he doesn’t care. He trusts Eddie with his life; whatever he wants to do to Buck is completely fine with him. 

 

“ Why?” Eddie growls, his eyes molten and wild, and Buck finally gets it. 

 

“Because I love you,” he wheezes, moaning loudly when lips crash against his own, the hand on his neck releasing to slide into the hair at the nape of his neck instead, holding him in place as he plunders Buck’s mouth with his tongue, stoking the desperate, feral need within Buck, who returns the kiss in kind. 

 

“Love you, Buck, love you so much, sweetheart. Looking after me and my kid, you’re so fucking good, baby,” Eddie praises against his lips, and Buck keens, high and broken in his throat, his hands scrambling for more and more and more of Eddie. He’ll never have enough. 

 

“Wanted to tell you to your face, wanted to see your pretty eyes when I said it back but fuck, I missed you, missed kissing you, needed to taste you, nobody’s ever loved me like you.” 

 

Buck shakes his head, whining when the motion separates him from Eddie for a second before he rejoins their lips. “No, nobody ever will; I love you so much Eddie, please. Eddie, please fuck me, I need you to fuck a baby into me, I don’t care how many times it takes, just need a piece of you in me, please please please,” he begs, shoving his hands down the back of Eddie’s sleepshorts, aching to get his hands on warm skin, to get himself full, biology be damned. “Don’t even prep me, I’ll get you so wet that you can slide right in, don’t make me wait Eddie, please.” 

 

“Here’s the plan,” Eddie mumbles against his lips, keeping Buck in place with his hand while he pulls away enough to look him in the eyes. “I’m not leaving my son in Texas with my psychotic parents for a second longer than I have to, which means you, unfortunately, have to wait.” 

 

Buck whimpers, feeling a little bit like he might cry. He loves that Eddie is a good dad, but he’s so hard right now, he needs Eddie so badly and he’s trying to be understanding - he really really is, but he’s struggling. 

 

“Easy baby,” Eddie soothes, kissing him again, letting Buck whine and lick and fuck into his mouth for a short minute. “I’m going to get my son, and then I’m going to come home, and I’m going to tie you to this bed for days and fuck you over and over again until you’re dripping with my cum. Sound fair?”

 

Buck hums, pouting for a second as he weighs his options. He could probably just throw Eddie over and slide down on him like this. It might hurt, but he doesn’t really care about that, not when he’d have Eddie inside of him. And sure, Eddie might be annoyed about it, but at the same time, Buck knows that he’s not alone in how badly he needs Eddie, knows that his beautiful baby is just as starved for him, just as desperate to be joined, to be one, in any way that they can be. 

But right then, Chris’ face flashes across his memory, the dejection on his face when he told Buck that his dad didn’t care about him, the halting, tentative hope that flashed - there and gone again - in his eyes when he realized that there were other circumstances that explained his father’s absence. He sees the brokenness in his Eddie, his despair after losing his son - the way he thought he deserved only bad things because of what happened. He sees Eddie now, rejuvenated and determined and firm. 

 

Buck’s not used to putting other people’s needs and desires ahead of his own - has spent his entire life doing what he wanted and not really caring one way or another about the consequences they had on others, but there’s something about the Diaz boys that he can’t fight. 

 

He’s bewitched, captivated by them, feeling things that he didn’t think he was capable of feeling, and at the end of the day, it’s an easy decision. 

 

“Fine,” he huffs, narrowing his eyes at Eddie above him. “But I’m holding you to your side of the deal; if you don’t, I’ll take it,” he warns, getting a smirk and an eye roll in return. 

 

“So needy for my cock, like you’ve ever waited for my permission to take what you want,” Eddie tsks, but there’s no bite to his words, and Buck just smirks, unrepentant. 

 

Eddie kisses him one last time, sharp and biting and promising, before he pulls away. “Alright, let’s go. LAX usually has late flights, but that won’t do me any good if I’m not on it.” 

 

Buck rolls his eyes but stands all the same. 

 

Anything for his Eddie. 

 

–

 

There is a flight that will leave Eddie landing in Texas firmly in middle-of-the-night territory, but he takes it anyway, and Buck drops him off at the airport. 

 

Once he realized that his parents were the ones that hired Buck, it was clear that Buck couldn’t accompany him on his journey, couldn’t risk Helena and Ramon seeing him and realizing that Buck wasn’t going to do what they were paying him to do. 

 

He didn’t want to run the risk that they go to the cops - which Buck is pretty sure they wouldn’t do, not without also landing themselves in jail for hiring him, but desperation makes people crazy - or hiring somebody else to take the job - the much more likely outcome, in Buck’s professional opinion, and something he simply cannot allow. 

 

So, Buck drops Eddie off at the airport, kissing him soundly, before pointing the jeep east again, heading right back down to Texas to take care of Eddie’s parents, and hopefully, be back in time for dinner in two days. 

 

He’s cursing the distance between him and Eddie again, and right after they swore they wouldn’t be apart like this, but he keeps reminding himself that this is almost over. He’s tired, a little sick of being in the car right now and will probably have to pull over at some point and sleep for at least a few hours so he doesn’t get himself killed by falling asleep behind the wheel, but the adrenaline is pumping in his veins for now, chasing off any hint of fatigue. 

 

Plus, if he and Eddie are traveling at the same time, it’ll shave off at least some of the hours they’ll have to be apart, and in Buck’s opinion, that’s worth it every single time. 

 

He’s five hours into the drive when his work phone rings. 

 

Right on time, he thinks smugly, already knowing who’s on the other end of the line. 

 

“Eddie just showed up here and took Christopher back to California,” Helena hisses at him, her voice dripping with vitriol. “I thought you were going to handle this? We paid you a lot of money to make sure that this was not a possibility, that Christopher was going to stay with us, and yet somehow, Eddie just strolled into our home at damn near 1 o’clock in the morning and informed us that he was taking our Christopher home. If this is your idea of handling things, then I am not impressed.” 

 

He lets her rant, imagining the feeling of her blood on his hands, growing content at the fantasy of watching the life drain out of her ugly, hateful eyes, body limp and lifeless after he rips her throat out with his teeth. 

 

Unfortunately, he’s not going to do anything nearly that messy or personal, but damn, it’s a very grounding fantasy. He can’t let her know she’s onto him or give her any warning that anything is amiss. 

 

Once she finally shuts the fuck up, Buck has his rebuttal ready to go, allowing the rage in his chest to seep into his voice. “Well, I had plans for tonight, but then all of a sudden, Eddie’s taking off out of the house like his ass is on fire, and by the time I figure out what’s going on, he’s already at the damn airport, so why don’t you tell me what the hell happened here, Mrs. Diaz? It’s been months, and now in the middle of the night, he’s suddenly playing at Good Dad and racing down to Texas like the hounds of Hell are after him?” 

 

Technically, none of that is a lie. Buck did have plans for the night and Eddie did rush out of the house like he was participating in the 200-yard dash at the Olympics, but the details of those are not for Helena to know 

 

“Well, I- I don’t know how you expect me-” she stutters, and Buck scoffs harshly, shutting her down. He already knows what happened, and he’s pretty sure she does too. Chris learned that they were deliberately keeping him from his father, and he probably made his displeasure known. In fact, Buck would be surprised if Eddie didn’t already have a bunch of texts on his phone from his son that the Diaz parents are none too pleased about. 

 

“You swore that this situation was under control, that your grandson wanted to stay with you, that Eddie didn’t have any real interest in being a dad. I’m holding up my end of the bargain, don’t call and scream at me because you couldn’t keep yours,” he growls. “As soon as Christopher is safe, I will be ending this, so I suggest you get your affairs in order. Don’t call me again.” 

 

With that final warning, he slams the End Call button and powers the phone off again, tossing it into his passenger seat and turning up the music on the radio, humming along happily. 

 

–

 

Buck knew that Eddie was going to have to book a hotel room for him and Chris to stay at, since there was no way anybody was running any flights back that late, and Eddie would probably rather kill his parents with his bare hands than stay with them for a night, so by the time he finally makes it back to El Paso midmorning, he’s comforted by the fact that his boys are probably resting right now and will be on their way home, safe and sound, within the next couple of hours. 

 

He, on the other hand, has a little bit more work to do before he’s able to say the same for himself. 

 

The couple hours of sleep he managed to grab on one of the exit ramps was good enough to get him here, but he’s ready to get back to LA, to slide into Eddie’s bed, curl up with his baby and avoid stepping foot in another vehicle for at least a week. 

 

He’d already done his research when he decided that the Diaz parents needed to pay for their actions, so now all he has to do is wait until he can get into the house without being detected. 

 

Cursing the fact that he’s going to have to wait until the sun goes down - which, he already knew he would, but he thinks he’s allowed to pout about it - and the fact that he can’t even call Eddie and talk to him because he doesn’t want anybody to be able to track his movements, just in case, he resigns himself to finding a quiet place that he can lie in wait, maybe catch a couple more hours of sleep before the night’s big events so he can get home to his boys as soon as he’s able. 

 

-

 

By the time the moon rises, Buck is more than ready to go. 

 

He’d left his Jeep parked out of the way and casually made his way to the Diaz house in the late afternoon to do some surveillance - a hooded figure creeping down the street in the dark would probably draw some eyes, but a guy taking a stroll after dinner is totally normal, nobody wou;d think twice about it. 

 

The neighborhood is quiet now, all probably asleep by this hour, but he didn’t get this far without being careful. 

 

He watched from his hidden spot in the trees out back as the Diaz parents finally turned in for the night, and then waited a couple hours more to be sure that they were truly asleep - without the aid of tranquilizers this time, since they’d still be in the blood stream if they died while on them - which is annoying, but he’s a professional. He can do this - before he gets up, shaking out his stiff limbs and making his way up to the back window.

 

He snaps on a pair of rubber gloves before entering the house again, going straight to the carbon monoxide alarm he’d seen previously and swapping out the batteries for the dead ones in his pocket. 

 

Next, he takes a quick detour to the bedroom, finding the phone in the same place he’d seen it last, and quickly wipes his number from the memory. It’s a little more complicated to wipe it from the SIM card and memory entirely without completely resetting the phone, but he’s been doing this a long time, and he’s not about to halfass covering his tracks. He also grabs their personal cells phones and their laptop and scrubs any search of him or someone like him, making sure that there’s no way for this to blow back on him or send up any red flags for the people who eventually find their bodies. 

 

That all done, he gets to the star of the show; the gas stove. 

 

Poor Helena and Ramon, he can already hear the family saying. They were so distraught about Christopher leaving, so scatterbrained over the drama within their family that they didn’t check to make sure that the stove was off before they went to bed. 

 

They made their dinner, the leftover chicken already in a Tupperware container in the fridge, and forgot, and what a tragedy that they didn’t replace the batteries on their carbon monoxide alarm. 

 

Such a tragedy, such a terrible, terrible accident. 

 

He does a quick check to make sure that all the windows are closed so none of the gas can escape, and then he leaves, settling back into his previous hiding spot, just to make sure that the job gets finished - there’s nothing like a sloppy kill, it really gives them all a bad name. 

 

By the time the sun rises the next morning and the time that Helena and Ramon normally rise comes and goes without a stir from either one of them, Buck rises from his spot, the contentment of a job well done coursing through his veins. 

 

They’ll be found eventually. A neighbor will call for a wellness check, or a family member will turn up when they haven’t caused any trouble in a couple of days, but they are no longer Buck’s problem. 

 

He gets to go home, kiss his beautiful partner and promise him that this nightmare is finally over.

Notes:

Listen, I know that it's only about a 12-hour drive to El Paso from LA so Eddie probably should've been awake still by the time Buck got home but I simply do not care lol. Traffic on the highway and in LA and road work and rush hour, idfk, but lots of time passed so Eddie went to bed. He was sad that Buck wasn't home yet and figured that he'd be closer to his arrival if he went to bed early, like a kid on Christmas; that's my story & I'm sticking to it.

Also yay, the Diaz parents are dead 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳 I was always going to have Buck kill them once Chris was out of the house, it was only a matter of time lmao.

Chapter 9

Notes:

FINAL CHAPTER!!!

Sorry if the lengths or whatever are weird, I was struggling with how to break them up, so I hope they all made sense. Anyway, this is a quick wrap up to all of the events that happened, as well as laying the path for the future, so let's get to it!

This chapter does include smut - very similar to the kind in the first chap w smut and therefore, the consensual somnophilia, so if that's not your jam, you might want to skip that bit.

Eddie is out the door as soon as Buck pulls into the drive, jogging quickly and crashing into him, leaving Buck to do nothing but steady himself and let Eddie rest against him. 

 

“I missed you,” he mumbles into Buck’s throat. That’s the first thing he says, not asking about his parents, not asking about the job, just letting Buck know that his presence was missed, that his absence was noted. 

 

“I missed you too, beautiful. No more,” Buck promises, burying his face in Eddie’s hair and taking a strong pull of his scent. 

 

“Come on, I’m making dinner and Chris has been talking about you nonstop since we got home,” Eddie prompts, grabbing Buck’s hand as he steps away to tug him towards the house. 

 

“That’s it?” Buck asks, feeling a little confused. He would’ve thought Eddie had questions, would’ve wanted a recap, details, answers, but he hasn’t said anything of the sort. Just that Buck was missed, and dinner is almost ready, and Chris wants to see him again. 

 

“Uhm, yeah?” Eddie responds, looking at him perplexed. “I mean, what were you expecting? I can’t exactly show you how much I missed you out here; the neighbors might call the cops, and I don’t really want to deal with all that.” 

 

Buck shakes his head roughly, though his blood does heat at the wiggle of Eddie’s brows and the suggestion in his voice. “No- I mean, yes, I’m definitely looking forward to learning how much you missed me, but that’s not what I meant. Don’t you have questions? Comments? Concerns?” 

 

“What are you, the cheesy closing to a corporate meeting?” Eddie jokes, his eyes searching Buck’s face trying to root out the reason for his reaction. 

 

When Buck just stares at him, helpless and flustered, Eddie rolls his eyes, stepping in front of him and grabbing his hands until they’re both cradled in Eddie’s. “Buck, I don’t have any questions. I don’t have any comments. If you want to talk about it, we can talk about it later, once Chris goes to bed, but I trust you. You love me, and you take care of me, and I trust you to keep doing it. You’ve been doing this for much longer than I’ve known you, I’m not going to doubt your abilities. Does that make sense?” 

 

Buck’s not exactly sure what to call the noise that slips from his throat, but he rips his hands out of Eddie’s to grab his neck and pull him into a messy kiss. “I love you; you’re amazing, I’m so fucking lucky.”

Eddie chuckles, but returns to kiss, gentling Buck with his lips and the soft swipes of his hands against his sides. “Come on, baby. Dinner.” 

 

Buck pulls away, then darts back in for one more quick kiss because he’s an addict, before letting his hands fall from Eddie’s beautiful face to grab one of his hands instead. 

 

“Okay. Dinner.”

 

–

 

The sun is shining in his eyes the next morning, coming in through Eddie’s shades. 

 

He feels more rested than he has in days, sleeping stretched out in a bed with Eddie behind him instead of scrunched up in a car, but he’s still kind of achy. 

 

Achier than he thought he would be, honestly, now that he’s thinking about it. 

 

It feels like he needs to stretch out really well, his muscles compounded from being in the same spot for so long, so he does, reaching up with his hands, muscles tensin-

 

Oh. 

 

He clamps down on an intrusion in his hole, embarrassingly and obviously wet, only then realizing that his own cock is hard and leaking. 

 

“Good morning gorgeous,” Eddie rumbles from behind him, one of his hands resting on Buck’s hip, holding him in place while Eddie pulls out and snaps back into his body sharply, stealing the air from his lungs 

 

“You had a point; this is so much easier when you’re exhausted. You’ve got 2 of my loads in you already and you never stirred,” he shares, leaning down to nibble on Buck’s ear, grinding against his ass. The admission makes a pitiful whine rise in Buck’s throat, and he barely muffles it with his hand in time, only remembering the teenager sleeping down the hall at the very last second. 

 

“You’re so pretty, Buck, you look stunning taking my cock. It’s like you were made just for me,” he taunts, his hand reaching around to pinch at his nipple, devilish grin pressed against the skin of his shoulder, nipping when Buck’s breath stutters out of him in a suspiciously sob-like pattern. 

 

“Not for, not - oh my god, you feel so good - from. We’re the same - Eddie, fuck, yes, right there, right there, please,” Buck corrects, his vision hazy from the desire spiraling tighter and tighter around his spine with each time Eddie grinds against his prostate, fucking him closer and closer to his peak. 

 

It’s the only thing that makes sense, in Buck’s opinion. They were sculpted together; it’s why they fit so well, in every way. Every empty space of Buck is perfectly filled by Eddie’s edges, and vice versa. 

 

They weren’t made separately with the other in mind, they are the same being, surgically cut into shapes by the blade of the universe and then sent out into the world, spending the next 30+ years finding their way back to the other. 

 

Eddie’s rhythm falters for just a second, like the words physically hit him, and then he growls, pushing even closer to Buck’s back, arm wrapping around his waist so every inch of them is glued together. His thrusts grow wild, like he’s trying to leave a permanent mark of himself on Buck, trying to force his way into his body so they’re never apart again and Buck has to bite down on a sob from how badly he wants that. 

 

“Fuck yeah we are, you and me gorgeous, always, it was always going to be you and me,” Eddie grits through his teeth, grabbing Buck’s chin and yanking it to the side so he can pull his lips into a kiss that’s just as wild as their movement is. 

 

“Love you, love you, Eddie, love you, please please,” Buck chants, digging his fingers into the muscles of Eddie’s thigh, not totally sure what it is he’s begging for. Maybe to come, maybe to never move from this spot, to never have Eddie outside of him again, he doesn’t know; all he knows is that whatever he needs, Eddie is the only one capable of giving it to him. 

 

“Come on gorgeous, come for me. More likely to knock you up if you come too; do it for me,” Eddie encourages, biting down on his lip sharply enough that the metallic taste of blood hits Buck’s tongue before Eddie darts in to lick it away, and that’s all it takes, his orgasm hitting him with the strength of a tsunami, his entire body locking up, squeezing down on Eddie so tightly that he comes too, adding to already excessive mess that’s leaking from Buck and probably ruining their sheets.

 

Neither one of them moves though, coming down until their breathing falls into sync, their hearts beating as one, and longer still. 

 

“You think you can get some more rest?” Eddie wonders, leaving a sweet kiss to Buck’s neck. 

 

“Hmm, think so,” Buck agrees thoughtfully, like he isn’t already halfway back to unconsciousness. “Stay inside me,” he orders, or maybe begs. 

 

He grins when he feels the soft huff of air against his skin, humor or amazement, he’s not sure. “Of course,” Eddie agrees easily, like he was going to anyway, like maybe he’d stayed inside Buck after every previous time until he got hard enough to go again. 

 

The thought makes his dick twitch, but he knows he’s not going to be able to get it up again just yet. Something to save for another day. 

 

“Go back to sleep. I love you,” Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to the back of Buck’s head, arms wrapped tightly around him. 

 

Buck’s just awake enough to mumble incoherently in response before he’s asleep again. 

 

–

 

They get the call a few days later, and Buck gets the absolute pleasure of watching Eddie play his family like a fiddle. 

 

“That’s awful,” he says convincingly, his eyes twinkling in Buck’s direction. 

 

“God, I mean, yeah, I was mad at them, but I never wanted anything like this to happen,” he lies, crawling into Buck’s lap, petting at his hair like a dog that performed a trick exceptionally well, and Buck leans into it, soaking up the silent praise. 

 

“I just- I feel so guilty, like it’s all my fault. I mean, I just wanted to bring Chris home, but I never thought it would end like this, that they would be so upset.” 

 

Buck can hear Eddie’s abuela on the phone, close enough to hear her soft voice promising that it’s not Eddie’s fault, that it was just a terrible, awful tragedy that could happen to anyone, that it was not his fault for taking care of his son, that she didn’t agree with their actions in the first place. 

 

Buck kisses on Eddie’s neck, trails his fingers across the skin of his abdomen, touching touching always touching now as he gives his condolences, plays the dutiful grandson, the grieving son offering to help with whatever preparations need to be made, lamenting about the fact that the opportunity to rebuild their relationship is now gone forever, his voice choked and cracking in just the right places, like he’s trying to hide his emotions but struggling from the grief. 

 

Then, he gets off the phone and rides Buck into the mattress, praising him the entire time for how well he did, that nobody suspects a thing, that he did so good. 

 

He comes first and lets Eddie flip him onto his stomach and fuck him instead, reveling in the sting of overstimulation, tears streaming down his face and begging Eddie to come in him. 

 

–

 

Killing a person isn’t the gratifying part to Buck. 

 

That part of it doesn’t really do a whole lot for him, in all honesty; it’s what comes after that drives him. The reassurance that he did a good job, the knowledge that he helped a person, a family in need - that’s his motivation, what gets him up in the morning and keeps him on this path. 

 

So, when Eddie suggests joining the fire academy in the hopes of joining his station, Buck leaps at the chance. 

 

He’s hired by Captain Nash upon graduation, gets to know the team, including the man his sister is dating, which was a surprise to learn - he and Maddie had kept in contact better after Doug died, but he never wanted to pull her into his life, never wanted her to be close enough that she could catch him if he slipped up. He doesn’t think she’d turn her back on him, but she definitely wouldn’t understand. 

 

She’d told him a year or so ago on one of their calls that she was wanting to get out of Pennsylvania, away from the ghosts of their parents and Doug and the life she had before, and Buck promised to come visit when she settled in LA. 

 

He hadn’t forgotten, necessarily, and he does love his sister, in the best way he knows how, but there will always be that part of him that worries she’d hate him if she knew what he truly was, that it might break both of them in ways they couldn’t recover from. 

 

Still, he makes it a point to keep an eye on Chimney, just in case, but so far, the 118 is good. 

 

Being able to be with Eddie all the time instead of missing him during his 24-hour shifts is also nice and was honestly the main draw to the job. 

 

He has to be extra careful now, doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or his kills, doesn’t want anybody setting up a map of his comfort zone in a boardroom somewhere now that he’s settled down, but it’s all good; it’s so much better than the life he thought he’d ever have. 

 

Hired killer/firefighter was never on his list of possible careers growing up, but he can’t lie and say it doesn’t fit him pretty damn well. 

Besides, the most important thing he is is Eddie’s, and even if something bad happens and everything changes, he knows that never will.

Notes:

And we're done!!! I really hope you all enjoyed it; this fic was so so much fun for me, I enjoyed thinking about the different plots and writing it all out more than you can imagine, I hope you liked it even a fraction as much as I did lol. I know I'm kind of all over the place w fics, and idk that this is necessarily my strong suit when it comes to writing, but I also don't think I care because I had that much fun lol.

Buck referring to Eddie as "his beautiful baby" was so sappy and also a personal favorite of them bc Eddie deserves to be called beautiful all the time, and Buck deserves to be the one to say it.

Notes:

If you see any tags I'm missing, PLEASE tell me! This work is a little bit of a mess & I struggled with tagging it, but I don't want to leave anything important out or jump scare anyone with something crazy🤞

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