WhitePart13
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Summary
“He spent my whole life drilling into me that I had to be hard. Strong. Untouchable. No softness. No affection. Every time I reached for it, he tore me down. Called me weak. Pathetic. Wrong. And I thought I buried that when I left home. I thought I left him behind. But he’s still here.” Eddie taps his temple with trembling fingers, breath catching in his chest. “He’s still in my head. And every time someone notices us, every time there’s even a hint of attention, I hear him again, telling me I’m not allowed to want.”
“But I do want. God, Buck, I want you so much it terrifies me. I want to touch you all the time. I feel this need in me, it’s bottomless. Like a pit I can’t fill, no matter what I do. And it scares the hell out of me, because if I open it all the way, if I let it out, I don’t know if it will ever be enough. And I’m terrified you’ll drown in it. That I’ll smother you. That you’ll get overwhelmed and leave.”
or, Eddie Diaz has never let himself be needy, not once in his life. But loving Buck makes him ache for touch in ways he can’t admit, until pulling away nearly breaks them both.
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The itching under his skin hummed in a slightly off tune. When Buck was outside the Diaz door, he could physically feel Eddie’s happiness, without seeing him. Here, on the porch, he could feel that Eddie’s happiness was at about… 78%. High, honestly. Through the closed door, he could hear music playing softly and Chris yelling at a video game in his room.
When he opened the door and stepped in, he headed toward the kitchen where Eddie was, predictably, washing dishes with his phone in his pocket, playing a Christmas album in Spanish. When Eddie turned to look at him, a smile on his face, his happiness went up to a 98.4%.
Buck stumbled into a kitchen chair, nearly folding in half over it, huffing out a loud oof.
Eddie’s eyes went wide and he turned off the faucet, rushing over. “What the hell, man? You just totally-”
“Lost in my head,” Buck mumbled, cheeks ablaze as he righted the chair and himself. “Just knocked the wind out of myself, ignore me.”
or
As a child, Buck developed the ability to grant Christmas wishes. He finds this year a bit harder when Christopher makes a very particular wish; Eddie's complete happiness.
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Eddie flipped the postcard one last time, reading over the words he’d inked into the paper. His thumb brushed along the corner as he slipped the card into the slot.
Hey Buck,
I’m drunk in Texas and this is still the only address I know by heart. I miss you.
Yours,
E.D.
Or; Eddie figures some things out about himself while he's in Texas. Then Chris asks to move back to L.A.
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Buck tries to commit the frame to memory, wills himself not to forget the important details—Eddie on his knees in front of him, his nails seeking purchase along Buck's thighs as he drinks him down, his drawn-out gasps when Buck returns the favor.
After, when Buck reaches out for quiet confirmation in the dark, asks him, "Good?"
Eddie tells him, earnest and hard-won, "Everything is good with you," and Buck can bask in the illusion of a world where he almost believes it.
Buck is trying to leave the past where it belongs. Then he wins an all-expenses-paid trip to Italy, convinces Eddie to join him, and falls headfirst into (not so) casual sex with his best friend.
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“Bye, Eddie,” Buck says quickly, fluttering his lashes innocently at him, he smiles widely at glare he’s getting, and adds, “I love you.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, “Asshole,” he replies, his face blushed bright red.
(Or, Buck finds out that Eddie gets all flustered when someone tells him they love him. Naturally, Buck needs to tell him all the time now. It’s purely platonic, leave him alone.)