Work Text:
It takes two and a half years for Buck to learn a startling truth about Eddie.
Though to be fair, he'd been warned. By Eddie's family. By Carlos, Eddie's friend from Texas, when he came to visit. Even Christopher has said something multiple times.
But hearing it is something completely different than seeing it with his own two eyes. The truth of it blowing up right in his face. Maybe not blowing up, but hell it had come close.
Eddie can't cook. At all.
Now that he has the evidence in front of him, he doesn't know how he never figured it out. How has he been friends with Eddie this long and never learned this about him? But now he knows and there's only one thing he can do about it.
"Out!" He yells, swatting at Eddie with a towel he'd been using to wave by the smoke detector to get it to quit screeching. "Get out of here."
"It's my kitchen," Eddie reminds him.
"Not anymore. It's mine. If you're let in here, you won't have a kitchen."
Eddie rolls his eyes, "You're being dramatic."
"You burned water," Buck says, gesturing to the still smoking pot behind him. "Water Eddie!"
Christopher laughs from the table, "Dad can't cook."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Buck asks him.
"I did," Christopher says, not looking up from his coloring. "You didn't listen. Now dinner is canceled."
"Dinner isn't canceled," Buck assures him. "I can fix this."
"Or we can order pizza," Eddie suggests, already typing away on his phone.
"Eddie Diaz don't you dare."
Eddie looks up at him with a raised eyebrow. "We're doing full names now, Evan?"
Buck sputters, momentarily thrown by the way his name sounds on Eddie's lips. "You're in trouble, so yeah, you get your full name."
"But that's not my full name, is it?" Eddie asks, walking closer, until he's in Buck's space.
Buck swallows, unsure what's happening here. "No."
"Then I'm not that in trouble," Eddie says.
"Are you just trying to distract me so you can order pizza?"
Eddie smirks, "It's only fair since I only burnt the water because you were distracting."
Buck's face pinches in confusion, trying to think of what he'd been doing that could possibly be distracting. "I was?"
"Mmhmm," Eddie steps closer, effectively trapping Buck against the counter. "Very distracting, dancing around here in your 'kiss the cook' apron."
"How is that distracting?"
Buck has a feeling. The way Eddie is looking at him now has his heart racing. But he still needs to hear Eddie say it.
"Because all I wanted to do was get you like this and do what the apron says," Eddie says. "But Christopher was here so I had to behave."
Buck frowns. Christopher's still in here, right? But when Buck looks to the table, he's gone.
"He went into the living room to color. We're alone," Eddie murmurs, voice low and close to his ear. The feeling of his warm breath blowing across his skin has Buck shivering, anticipation coursing through his veins.
"Well then," Buck says, looking Eddie head on with a smirk as he grabs a fistful of Eddie’s shirt and pulls him in closer. "I guess it's time you kiss the cook."
Eddie doesn't have to be told twice. The next moment he's closing the scant distance between them and fitting his lips against Buck's. It’s hard and hungry and Buck has a moment to thank god Christopher had fled before this happened, before his brain is too consumed by Eddie and the fact that they’re finally kissing to think of anything else.
"You're still not cooking," Buck mumbles against his lips.
Eddie laughs quietly and pecks his lips. "That's fine. Christopher is ordering pizza anyway."
"Christopher…"
"I gave him my phone with the app open," Eddie grins. "He knows what to do."
"I'm sure," Buck says. "But aren't you worried about what kind of pizza he's going to order?"
Eddie tenses for a moment, before relaxing. He rests his head against Buck's. "Whatever it is. I'm sure it'll be fine."
“Really?” Buck asks, eyebrow raised. “Last time you let me pick out pizza he got pickles, M&M’s, and pineapple.”
Eddie’s face twists, mirroring the disgust Buck feels just thinking of that night. “He can’t add M&M’s to pizza through the app.”
Buck wants to argue that Christopher is smart, and if there’s a way to do it, he will. But he keeps his mouth shut. They both know they’ll eat whatever pizza comes into the house as long as it makes Christopher happy.
“Is your not being able to cook why we order so much pizza?” Buck teases.
“No.”
“Eddie.”
“Maybe a little bit,” Eddie concedes. “But Christopher does love pizza.”
“He’s nine,” Buck points out. “He’d eat pizza every night if he could. Doesn’t mean he should.”
“Well then,” Eddie says, pulling Buck in closer with a hand around his waist. “I guess you’ll just have to cook for us more often.”
Buck smiles and kisses him softly. “I can do that.”
He’d cook for his Diaz boys every night for the rest of their lives if they asked him to.