1 - 20 of 37 Works by literalmetaphor
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“Chim?” Buck yells loud enough that it bounces off a few cars. “Chim, like, Chimney? You have a crush on… Chimney? As in my sister’s husband?”
Eddie recoils, startled. “I thought you said you knew?”
“I… I…” Buck isn’t sure what to say. This changes everything—the entire day rewrites itself, and he sees every single fucking interaction: Eddie fawning over Chimney in the gym. The counter. The calls.
It was never about Buck.
“He’s fucking married, Eddie.”
OR
Eddie's got a crush, and Buck's handling it as expected.
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“You got hard,” Eddie says simply. “I saw it…” Then, with this purse of his mouth, this raise of his eyebrows. “I felt it.”
“Jesus.” Buck can’t breathe. He stumbles a few steps back and ends up on a wall, still staring at Eddie, in his bedroom, looking shadowed and sinuous. “That doesn’t… okay, what is going on here, Eddie?”
“You tell me,” Eddie answers, all husky, and fuck—it roars through Buck, builds in the center of him until he’s on fire.
This isn’t normal. This isn’t Eddie, and yet, Buck’s throat is dry, and his dick is hard, and all he can think is that he wants it. All he can think is that he doesn’t know how to fight this. Doesn’t know how to say no to it.
All he can think is that he wants Eddie.
~
Buck's new house is creepy, and Eddie's acting weird.
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Eddie’s shoulders drop as he slips the gloves back on with practiced diligence. “Sorry, it’s not—it’s not you. My, uh… when I touch people sometimes, a lot of times, people get hurt.”
“Get hurt?” Buck echoes.
Eddie swallows and flexes his hand. “Yeah, i-it’s hard to explain, but it’s bad. It’s not… always. It’s gotten better, and if I’m concentrating, usually I can keep it from—but then if it lasts too long, or if I get distracted or startled… it’s just better if there’s no touching.”
“You know,” Buck tries, all easy, “I am pretty good at getting hurt.”
OR
buck and eddie end up on a very unorthodox roadtrip
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“You didn’t tell me your agent’s name was Dick,” Eddie says, halfway to a laugh.
Buck tries to force a smile onto his face, but it won’t come. “Yeah, he didn’t mention that before. Apparently, that was info he only wanted to share with you.”
“Oh, weird,” Eddie says, like it’s not worth thinking about. “Still funny, though.”
“Hilarious,” Buck says as he pulls into the street and Eddie types in the next address.
OR
The problem isn't that Buck's real estate agent is into Eddie or that Eddie seems to like it; it's a matter of professionalism.
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“I met a lady on the call the other day, the one I pulled out of the other unit… she said she was psychic and then started talking about granting wishes. It all sounded so ridiculous, but I-I think she did something to me. I know I sound crazy, but I think I have to do whatever people tell me to.”
Buck jerks back, stands to his full height, and Eddie sees the last twenty-four hours playing through his eyes in perfect clarity, without one second of doubt. Buck believes him, instantly, wholly, without question, and Eddie suffocates the sob in his throat.
“Oh, Eddie, you’re…” Buck says, “wait, is that why you were giving that guy your number?”
“That’s your question?” He gasps through a laugh, and it’s wet and dangerous.
“Yes,” Buck says, without an ounce of remorse.
OR
Eddie gets the Ella Enchanted treatment.
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Eddie really shouldn’t, but he asks, “Book of stories?”
“Yeah,” Chris says. “That’s how I know Buck’s your true love, and how I know this whole town is a curse that my grandparents cast.”
Oh dear god.
Eddie’s makes a couple of incomprehensible sounds as he stares across the street and sees the slice of the harbor between the buildings. But eventually, in the interest of conversation, he asks, “So I’m in this book?”
“Yeah,” Christopher says. “I don’t know all what happened because some of the pages are torn out, but I know you and Buck met and fell in love.”
OR
once upon a time, there was a town in maine trapped between two worlds...
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“I-I didn’t say time loop,” Buck says. “How’d you know it was a time loop?”
Eddie laughs, and it’s electric, not the soft, gentle thing that lights up Buck’s insides, but something charged like a trip wire. “You said dreaming about living the same day, that’s a time loop.”
“No,” Buck says. “I said dreaming something that happens the next day.”
Eddie groans. “It doesn’t matter. I just knew where you were gonna go with it, and-and yeah, I’ve had weird dreams before. You probably just need a little more sleep – didn’t you say you’d been having trouble?”
This is not what he needed. Usually, Eddie would ask a few calming, leading questions, and get him somewhere more stable, but this… it’s like Eddie’s ten steps ahead of him and Buck doesn’t know how to catch up.
OR
Buck and Eddie get stuck in a time loop eight hundred miles apart.
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“We need a safe word,” Buck says. “You know, to make things as clear as possible.”
“I feel like no works just fine,” Eddie says.
Buck lets out a breath, because, sure, it probably will, but he needs assurance here. He needs something straightforward, simple, maybe something easier than Eddie telling him no. Maybe something easier than Eddie saying it’s too much. He’s never been great at that. “Just, humor me, okay? Communication is key with stuff like this.”
Eddie’s laugh is soft, kind of incredulous, but he meets Buck’s eyes, and there’s a relenting fondness in them. “You think, what, you’re gonna be so good it’s gonna scramble my brain out of knowing how to say no?”
An answering laugh tumbles out of Buck, peppered with the exasperation at the back of his throat. “I think this is new for you, and I think you should have options.”
OR
Eddie has to use the safe word.
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you're the reason i came (you're the reason i stayed) by literalmetaphor
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
17 Feb 2025
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Eddie shifts his weight a few times. “What does that mean?”
This could go a lot of ways. If this is Buckley, and Eddie’s pretty sure it is, it could lead to him hanging this over his head, trying to get sex out of it, and honestly – Eddie’s slept with people for less. And Eddie could do, has done, a lot worse.
He would hate being strong-armed into sex, but he’s been strong-armed into it before, and this guy, well, it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it.
“Um,” is all the answer Eddie gets.
And then there’s this meandering, endless pause, where the guy stands there and just… stares at him. Eddie can’t decide if it’s awkward or if they are slipping back into creepy. “What’s with the staring?”
“Sorry!” Sleeves immediately jerks his eyes away, then scratches the back of his head before he looks back at Eddie and snaps away again. “It’s just – uh, it’s weird, seeing you, um, without the…”
Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Handcuffs?”
OR
Eddie works at a strip club, and Buck's a very frequent customer.
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There’s too much heat. The flames crackle and curl in the busted windows. The house is only two stories high. If Buck would listen, if he’d turn around and get out – he could be at the door, he could be out of the fucking blast radius.
But Buck’s still standing in it.
Eddie is cursed.
Like he has been for years.
Eddie is the blast radius.
OR
Eddie Diaz is cursed.
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Buck doesn’t take his hands off Eddie’s shoulders as he glances over to Athena and Nash, who are watching the display calibrate. “How’d we do?”
“See for yourself,” Athena says.
Bad, Eddie thinks.
But he can’t read her – doesn’t know what it’s going to say. For all he knows, he’s going to look up and the words Eddie Diaz Should Be Dead will be flashing across the screen. He half-expects it.
He wants to brace Buck for it, for the disappointment – wants to explain that whatever has screwed his compatibility scores till now, this one is all on Eddie.
“Oh, shit…” Buck whispers.
Eddie lifts his head, finally lets himself look, and then takes an inhale so sharp he tastes blood.
Oh, shit.
OR
the pacific rim au
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Maddie has her forehead against her hands, which are clasped in what looks to be prayer. “Okay, so – hang on, so Eddie’s gay?”
“Yeah.” Buck can’t believe they’re doing this again.
“And he told you he was in love with you.”
“Right,” Buck says.
“And you…” Maddie peeks up at him. “You’re in love with him?”
“Absolutely.”
Maddie draws in a long breath, and she splits her hands to pillow her face. “But you turned him down and told him you wanted to wingman for him instead?”
OR
Eddie confesses. Buck handles it poorly.
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“Sorry,” Eddie chokes, “about the… voicemail.”
Buck feels Eddie’s hand slacken in his. Watches the light in his eyes start to dim, and Buck yanks at his arm. “No, no – no, don’t… don’t be sorry. You…” He wants to wait because if he says it now, he’s admitting Eddie might not make it. “You know how I feel, Eddie.”
~
It's a plane crash. It's always a plane crash.
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"Maddie." Eddie’s fear matches her own when they meet each other’s eyes again. “You gotta get out. We don’t have time…”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“What about Jee, Maddie?” Eddie grabs it like the steel frame in his side and jams it straight through her heart. “Who’d you rather leave? Me or her?”
For a moment, she thinks of how simple it would be. How badly she wants to get out. To remove the danger, to remove the possibility of leaving Jee, again, of leaving Chimney again. She could get out of the car. She could survive this.
Some part of her wants to, so bad, but she’s staring at Eddie, and thinking of Buck’s shaking hands after he got shot, thinking of Eddie spinning Christopher at the fire station, thinking of all the things this world has to lose if it loses Eddie Diaz. Thinking of all the things her brother would lose.
Thinking of all the things she would lose.
OR
Eddie and Maddie end up in an impossible situation.
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“I think the fact that you’re still making this about Eddie is all the answer you need about Tommy.” Bobby’s tone shifts to something sterner, more severe. “You’re being selfish, here, and from the sounds of it – you’ve done enough of that.”
It stings, and Buck knows it needs to sting. Because he deserves it. Because he is. Because he’s barely thought about Tommy and the fact that he cheated on him – that their entire relationship may have just been an excuse for Buck not to face that he’s in love with his best friend.
Even if he can’t have Eddie…
But that’s the thing, that’s what he can’t get past – why he can’t move, why he’s paralyzed in this spot, erupting and erupting, sending shrapnel into anything in his path. Because he can’t get past that – can’t get past if he can’t have Eddie.
Because if he can’t have Eddie, what’s the point?
OR
Buck explains things, to everyone.
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He’s so close. There’s skin, hot beneath his mouth, and he thinks about hard-fought breaths on a bed that doesn’t belong to him, about shivering, about a house that feels like home, about a man that feels like home.
Buck sinks his teeth into neck, wants to find all the creases, to fall in deeper – to fuse himself to the thing he’s touching. Beneath him, there’s a groan, an almost cry for him to ease up, and he thinks of sweat and bruises and broken ribs.
“Eddie,” Buck gasps, and his body quivers towards absolution, until…
“Evan?”
OR
Buck reckons with his feelings for Eddie so poorly they'll write about it in history books one day.
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where there is a flame (someone's bound to get burned) by literalmetaphor
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
22 Jul 2024
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Buck waits until Eddie meets his eyes, which takes longer than it should. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Eddie’s mouth twitches, searching for something in Buck’s face – something he’s not finding. They’re close, like this – one good exhale and they’d be touching, but Eddie’s eyelids are getting heavier.
“Why not?”
How could I leave you?
He watches Eddie and feels the rush in his blood, the churn of the distance between them. He thinks about the day they met, Eddie’s quiet, seemingly endless patience. He thinks about Eddie sitting beside him when Doug took Maddie. He thinks of Eddie at his door, with Chris, before the tsunami, and then after. He thinks of I forgive you.
A mosaic of moments, all laced together with one, single string.
You’re like breathing.
OR
Eddie gets hurt. Buck moves in to help, and things... escalate.
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Buck presses his forehead against Eddie's, and Eddie braces his other hand on Buck's hip, hanging off him and grinding this intoxicating rhythm over him, panting as Buck watches rivulets of sweat trace his cheekbone and cling to the line of his jaw. He wants to taste them, wants to suck at them until Eddie whines beneath his teeth.
This is what they meant. This is the rhythm. His rhythm. Eddie is his rhythm, and he'll always find it, always find him.
"See?" Eddie says, eyes like fireworks on Buck's. "You're not so bad."
Buck pants against Eddie's mouth, so close - so, so close he could take it. He could catch those bright, pink lips beneath his, and Eddie would let him, because he's holding his ass, and their hard against each other, and...
"Yeah," he breathes, slipping closer to his mouth. "You're amazing."
Eddie's mouth quivers, and Buck can't hold himself back. He needs to kiss him. He needs to taste him, his sweat, his skin, his tongue.
"Whoa," Ravi's voice shoots between them like a bullet, but Buck holds on, a little feebly, when Eddie draws back. "That’s kinda..."
_
Ravi takes the one-eighteen out for a night, and Buck finds out Eddie knows how to dance.
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Buck hasn't stopped to think what Christopher is going to say about all this, about what it will do to Eddie if he has a problem with it. Buck loves Christopher - hell, some days he feels like Chris is his kid, but this... this might be a step too far.
"Okay, so we talk to him after work," Buck says, like he's not making a mental checklist of every reason this is a bad idea.
Eddie shakes out his shirt, drawing his skin tight against the chords of muscle in his arms, before he pulls it over his head. Buck's gaze clings to the lines of his chest, his stomach, his waist, until the shirt devours all of it. "Right, which means..." Eddie smooths the shirt and looks at Buck again, gaze a little too low before it finds his eyes. "This shift, we tell no one."
"I mean..." Buck should ease into it - get Eddie there like he did - a slow, gradual realization - but it's so wild to him that anyone wouldn't see it now, that he can't stop himself. "I feel like everyone already - or, uh, they might see it coming."
"See what coming?"
"Us."
OR
Buck and Eddie try to navigate when and how to tell everyone they're together with their trademark (lack of) finesse.
Series
- Part 3 of nothing safe is worth the drive
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Maddie lets out this giggle, then covers her mouth. "Hang on, you - made out on a pool table, in a public bar-what do you mean? Like against it, or?"
"Uh," Buck says. "It started out against it, and then, it got more... horizontal? I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out, honestly."
"Oh my god. Oh my god, Buck." She smacks his shoulder.
"Yeah, it... it was a lot, and... so we just-so I took him home, and he was drunk, and I helped him get, you know, situated. But then he asked me to... kiss him again, and... and I did, and it was stupid, and then this morning, he freaked out and apologized and tried to tell me he wasn't into guys, and... I just left. It was... awkward. It was a mistake."
Maddie's brow furrows, and she tilts her head, adorned in this knowing, probing expression. "He's not into guys, but he made out with you, horizontally, on a pool table, and then asked you to do it again when you got to his place?"
"He was drunk," Buck clarifies. "It happens."
"Does it?" Maddie asks.
OR
Buck and Eddie deal with the fallout of a drunken makeout, or two.
Series
- Part 2 of nothing safe is worth the drive