moon_lights



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  1. Rec *

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    Summary

    "Too bad we can't just date each other."

    Eddie laughs. "What?"

    "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—"

    "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning.

    -

    Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together.

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    08 Apr 2026

  2. Rec *

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    “You’re cheating,” Buck accuses.

    “I’m winning,” Eddie pants, looking far too smug.

    “I’m—” Buck tries to tug his arms free from Eddie’s hold to no avail. How is Eddie so damn strong? “I’m letting you.”

    “You’re letting me pin you down? Do you like getting your ass handed to you, Buck?”

    Heat floods Buck’s gut. He does like getting his ass handed to him. Or—no, well… he likes being pinned, or thrown against walls, or–or floors. But that’s different. That’s a sex thing. This is definitely not a sex thing. This is a bro thing. They’re bro-wrestling. Bro-housing. This is the most platonic thing Buck’s done in his entire life. He doesn’t know why he’s sweating.

    Channelling his inner carpet python, he gives a determined wriggle, but Eddie’s hands tighten around his wrists. The feeling sends a shock through Buck’s spinal column.

    Oh no.

    Eddie, breathless and beautiful above him, repeats, “Say uncle.”

    Breath stuttering out of him, Buck freezes.

    Use your head, Buck thinks. His dick twitches. Then, panicked, the big one.

    Or: Buck and Eddie wrestle over the remote. They forget the remote.

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    1/1
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    04 Apr 2026

  3. Rec *

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    Captain Buckley, who is steady, who has his shit together, who definitely does not recognize his new probie because he spent a night eight years ago with his hands in that man's hair whispering things against his skin that would get him fired on the spot if anyone in this building ever found out.

    "You must be Eddie Diaz." His hand goes out. Not shaking, by some miracle that deserves its own cathedral, its own patron saint, the patron saint of men who are dying inside and shaking hands about it. "Welcome to the 118. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Captain Buckley."

    Eddie takes his hand. A firm grip, calloused in places Buck doesn't remember, but Buck's skin recognizes him anyway, every nerve, all at once.

    "Captain." Eddie's voice is level, pleasant, perfectly neutral, and Buck would buy it completely if he couldn't see the tension bolted into Eddie's shoulders. "Thanks for having me." A beat. "You got a first name, Captain Buckley?"

    "Evan. But most people just call me Buck."

    "Buck," Eddie repeats, tasting it, dragging it out, and Buck's stomach drops through the floor. "Suits you."

    Or,
    Captain Buckley WILL NOT fuck his new probie, okay? At least, not again.

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    03 Apr 2026

  4. Rec *

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    “So,” Buck says, head spinning. He’s really feeling the alcohol now. They definitely should have eaten something before drinking. “No women.”

    Eddie fumbles as he sets the bottle down on his bedside table. “No women.”

    “What about men?” Buck blurts, which is—crazy, because again: neither of them are gay.

    They’re just two straight guys. Two straight guys in Eddie’s bed, tipsy, and—and Eddie doesn’t want to sleep with women. Which means nothing.

    Beside him, Eddie goes preternaturally still. “I would know, if I—you know.”

    “Okay.” Buck’s hands twitch at his sides. “I—yeah. Me too.”

    Then, very seriously, Eddie turns to look at him. “If I were gay, you would be my first call.”

    Warmth blooms in Buck’s chest. Eddie’s so nice to him. “Dude,” he says, touched. “You’d be my first call too.”

    Or: a story set in season 2 featuring tequila, Just The Tip, and, finally, a kiss.

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    31 Mar 2026

  5. Rec *

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    “Buck, seriously.” Eddie catches his eye, staring intently, attempting to beam the anxiety straight into Buck’s brain. “I know we’re both playing it cool, but… How are you not freaking out right now? I’m freaking out right now.” 

    Buck quirks an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t panic.” 

    “I don’t,” Eddie insists. “But I woke up in the wrong body this morning, and I had to—” He lowers his voice, ducking closer to Buck. “I touched your dick, man. Which—you know.” 

    A violation of boundaries. A line that can’t be uncrossed. Something Eddie feels deeply guilty about.

    “You touched my dick?” Buck asks, approximately one billion decibels louder than necessary. 

    The room around them stills.

    Or: Buck and Eddie switch bodies. Chaos ensues. 

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    31 Mar 2026