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Eddie Díaz is an expert at everything involving Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley, he knows him like the back of his own hand, better than that, even. That’s simply a fact. Of course he already knew that Buck occasionally sleep talks, there’s not a single thing about the guy that Eddie isn’t aware of.
This wasn’t even the first time Buck sleep talked with Eddie near him, but it was certainly something…
It starts with a huge storm, as many things do.
Their shift has finally come to an end, full of draining calls. Buck and Eddie are in the locker rooms getting ready to leave —leave separately, Eddie thinks with something akin to sadness—, when the first drops start to fall, making noise against the station’s ceiling. As the raindrops get louder, and the thunderbolts start, both of them share a look, and Eddie nods twice, secretly pleased at the development of his day.
The thing is, none of them is a big fan of storms, after many traumatic events that Eddie doesn’t want to remember right now. They have agreed —silently— to getting together every time there’s one.
It was a practical agreement, the first time it happened it was just Eddie trying to calm himself down with the noise of too-loud raindrops being heard in his too-empty house, with Chris staying at his tía Pepa’s, then, he eventually decided to grab his keys and drive to Buck’s loft, in an attempt to have some company. It worked, both for him and Buck, who was a little too still in his couch before Eddie came, which is why the next time, as soon as Eddie had seen the weather forecast for the night, he drove himself and Chris in the afternoon straight to Buck’s place, where they all had dinner, movies, and ice cream.
It had become a routine after that, whether Eddie went alone or with Chris to Buck’s loft, or Buck came to the Diaz house, they weren’t alone during the storms.
Also, during those nights, Eddie and Chris just stayed over at Buck’s, and Buck just stayed over at theirs, too. It was mostly the latter, to be honest.
As he said, it was practical. Leave Eddie alone.
The thing is, he thinks it gives him peace, Buck sleeping here at the house, where he belongs-- having him close, just a few feet away from Eddie’s bed. It’s never close enough, though, but it’ll do. He sleeps with his own door ajar, because there’s something about being able to hear every little noise Buck makes, whether it’s a snore, a shuffling of blankets, or just his breathing– except there’s nothing just about Buck’s breaths.
The fact that Buck is there, close enough to touch, tossing around in his small shitty-couch but never complaining about it, makes Eddie feel something that he’s absolutely burying again inside a ultra secure locker in a deep, deep part of himself.
And if he conveniently always feels like having a glass of water every time he knows Buck has fallen asleep, just to watch him for a little while, to make sure that he’s still breathing… Well, that’s Eddie’s business, and no one can prove it anyways.
They leave the station together in Eddie’s truck, agreeing to pick up the Jeep tomorrow, since they have a shift. The ride is pretty good, Buck driving–of course, Eddie wouldn’t drive even if someone paid him for (his Uber Era, as Chris calls it, doesn’t count), and humming to the old country music on the radio. Eddie, on the other hand, it’s very busy looking at Buck, and then, conveniently at the window when Buck looks back.
Chris is surprisingly not having a sleep-over, because honestly that kid is so popular, his calendar more filled than the ones of Buck and Eddie combined, because, yeah, they do share Google Calendars. It’s a school night, though, so, no sleep-overs today.
Once they get home, they both take turns to say hi to Christopher and kiss his hair a little bit, while he games and mumbles a quick hello and ‘Guys, yeah, love you, but, I’m on an important mission– Please let me know when dinner’s ready.’
Which, well, it’s fair enough.
Later, with Chris soundly asleep on his room, as they both keep watching Criminal Minds and he keeps pressing his thigh into Buck’s, in a totally friendly way, just like many guys do, after a lot of yawning from Buck, first he hears the way Buck’s breathing starts to even, then feels him leaning his head on Eddie’s shoulder, slowly falling asleep.
Okay.
Okay. Okay. It’s okay.
For the record, Eddie is not going to freak out because he is a grown man allowed to be close to his best friend, and Buck is probably tired and Eddie has a perfectly good shoulder, anyways, ideal for 6’3 dirty-blonde blue eyed big firefighters with many tattoos and golden hearts and bright flashy smiles, to sleep on. Plus he likes Buck—loves, really. That’s his best friend in the whole world, his favorite person besides Chris. He carefully puts his arm around Buck’s middle, and just stays still until he eventually hears soft snores in his ear, little puffs of air against his neck.
It’s normal, and it feels good, so good, and comfortable, amazing even, which, of course, since God hates him, immediately makes Eddie start to drift off as well. Buck is warm and smells like his expensive coconut shampoo, it’s not like Eddie is at fault here.
Blame Buck.
Eddie is not asleep yet, his eyes aren’t closed, not totally, at least, but his eyelids are so heavy, he can feel his own tiredness winning this fight, which is why he carefully presses a little bit of his weight into Buck, and honestly it should be illegal–having Buck like this, because Eddie will not let go of him ever again after today. He finally closes his eyes after a while, and concentrates on the warmness, the smell of coconut, the comfortable way he fits next to Buck, the way he could totally, absolutely, get used to this.
Later, Eddie wakes up with a startle as soon as Buck starts to move. He blinks, not knowing for how long he fell asleep. With a quick check he realizes it must’ve been only for a little while, it’s not morning yet, the TV is off, it’s still raining outside, and Buck seems to be completely asleep still, except he moves and moves and huffs as if he can’t get comfortable enough, eyes still closed, a little frown on his forehead, until he simply puts his right leg over Eddie’s to climb over half of his lap, and buries his face against his chest. Immediately, Eddie wraps his arms around him, just to secure the guy, all right? Buck makes a contented little noise, and Eddie is pretty sure his own brain has just short-circuited right now instead of processing this.
Okay. It’s still okay. Buck is a very touchy person, always needing physical contact to be happy, and who is Eddie to deny him happiness? Or in this case, a good night’s sleep? No, he simply won’t. Not now, not ever. If it’s comfortable to squish himself against Eddie, by any means, Buck is more than welcomed to do it regularly. Every day, even. Eddie is fine with that, he’ll welcome it– he considers himself a good person.
A little spooning has never hurt any friendship, either. Just something that Buck can have in mind for the future, in case he feels like spooning or getting spooned, or both. Eddie is fine with both, really. He’s reasonable like that. He hopes Buck is, too.
After establishing that to himself, Eddie slowly puts them both in a more cozy position, careful not to make any sudden movements, and keeps holding Buck close with both his arms wrapped around him.
This is good. Very good, actually. Pleasant. Warm. Friendly, too, of course.
It is so good, really. Eddie is not a touch-starved person, all right? He just… Doesn’t really get to hold someone regularly like this, and it feels nice, doing it, being useful, knowing that Buck feels safe and comfortable enough around him that he can fall asleep leaning on his shoulder or climbing over his lap— even if the last one was made subconsciously. He likes this.
Weirdly, the fact that Buck is undoubtedly a man is nice too. A man larger, bigger than Eddie, even, but it feels satisfying, holding him this way, this close, knowing he can.
Just when he’s about to fall asleep again, the comfortable weight of Buck making him all content and sleepy, Buck shifts a bit, stirs in his sleep, muttering something that Eddie doesn’t quite catch and then…
“Mph, don’t… ‘Kay,” Buck mumbles, and Eddie freezes in his spot, absolutely ready to leave the country. “Fine, you hav’…” he trails off again with something incomprehensible, and that’s when Eddie realizes what’s going on.
Buck is sleep-talking.
Which is nothing new, really. Even in the firehouse, everyone is familiar with this. Still, Eddie is being as quiet as a mouse, because he doesn’t want to wake Buck up.
“G’night, baby.” Buck adds with a soft puff of air, voice barely over a whisper, then, more clearly, “I love you, Eddie.”
Oh.
That. Um. That is something new, definitely.
Well, Buck is probably thinking about someone else. It is possible that his brain remembered that he’s at Eddie’s and that’s it– he just got confused, that must be it. Eddie doesn’t want to analyze the feeling he gets at thinking of Buck dreaming about anyone that’s not him, though.
Anyways, surely there must be a reasonable expl—
“Eds, m’baby…” Buck breathes, nuzzling–or squishing, his cheek into Eddie’s chest. “Love…”
All right. Sure, that’s all right. It’s good. It’s fine. Completely fine. Maybe Buck is indeed dreaming about Eddie, but he’s just sleeping. It’s normal. There’s no need to make a big deal out of this. People say many things when they sleep.
Baby. Baby. Baby.
It’s all right. Really, Eddie swears it.
“Lov’ ya.” Buck says again, lets out a big breath. Eddie keeps still, swallowing.
Eventually, many minutes later, Eddie is sure that Buck is done, now. And of course…
“Eddie…” Buck mumbles again in his sleep, frowning and stirring, eyes closed.
Eddie bites his own tongue, then squeezes him once and whispers softly, “I’m here.”
He guesses it’s enough, because Buck lets a contented little sigh, Eddie watches his frown disappear, and Buck doesn’t say anything else, snoring once again.
Great.
Cool. It’s cool. It is, really. 100%. Buck loves him. In a friendly way, naturally. And Eddie loves him too. Like a best bro, like every ordinary guy who wants to become one with his best friend, gluing their bodies, minds and souls for eternity— that’s normal. Usual. Typical– whatever.
Honestly, Eddie is not freaking out. He brushes the curls out of Buck’s face and presses him closer, because what’s the harm in it? Buck is pleasant to have around, or on top of, like his own big warm pillow. He wants to drown or get drunk on the guy, but that’s ordinary, too.
Eddie is tempted to leave a tiny teeny kiss on his forehead, except he controls himself in the end, like the normal person he is. Very reasonable about this.
Switching topics, or not so much— there’s something in his head repeating Baby and I love you, Eddie like a broken record, and he’s going to ignore it because the fact that Buck loves him as a friend is not shocking, he’s always been aware of it, and a little pet name had never hurt anyone, as far as Eddie knew—, this makes him think about the fact that he can’t quite believe there is not a line of people trying to date Buck. Let’s be serious, Buck is the most amazing guy ever. Having this everyday, having him everyday? Eddie would give everything for it— if he were into Buck, or if he were a girl. Or into guys at all. Which he is not, none of the options, clearly, but he’s still allowed to be mad because no one worships Buck like he should be worshipped— like Eddie could, if that were the case—. Buck takes such good care or Eddie, too, always wanting to help, always being next to him. It sort of makes him want to cry sometimes. Also, Eddie now realizes he’s kind of mad at the prospect of people trying to date Buck, except that must be a common occurrence in such cases. Surely.
And he’s also thinking that— I love you, Eddie...
I love you, Eddie. I love you, Eddie. I love you, Eddie.
I love you, Eddie. I love you, Eddie.
Baby. Baby, baby, baby, baby.
Well. Sure. Eddie admits his defeat, he can’t get it out of his head. But the motive behind not getting it out of his head it’s most likely the fact that Eddie doesn’t hear that combination of words all the time. There’s I love you, Dad from Chris, of course, and his Abuela telling him that she loves him, te amo, mi nietito hermoso, and Pepa, Bobby, his sisters, the 118, even Buck, of course. People tell Eddie they love him, all right? And they show it, too, except he doesn’t remember someone saying I love you, Eddie specifically, it’s more of a mix of dad, son, kid, guys, bro, dude and not Eddie.
It’s never Baby.
And it’s never I love you, Eddie, either.
Not those words, not like Buck had said it, clear and convincingly despite being sleep-talking. He said it like he meant it.
Maybe like he meant in a—
Nope. Not going there. Buck meant it, sure, as friends. Buck loves Eddie, Eddie loves Buck, they’re practically brothers. End of it.
He’s going to sleep again, and not freak out. Truly. It’s fine. He’s fine. Eddie takes a deep breath—concidently close to Buck’s curls, coconut, coconut, coconut— and closes his eyes, melting under their embrace.
The last thought he has before falling asleep is I love you, Eddie. But he’ll get over it in the morning, most definitely.
For now, Eddie will enjoy this, for as long as he can.
Eddie wakes up alone, that’s the first thing he notices.
Then, Buck’s voice in his ear, his weight on top of him, I love you, Eddie.
He shakes his head, trying to forget about those four words. It’s morning now, probably a little past 7:00. He blinks a few times, looking around. Buck’s shoes are close by, which means he’s still around, that’s good. Buck always claims to need to be free thus walks around the house barefoot or occasionally wearing socks—the ones that barely reach his ankles, because anything longer will make him scream his lungs out, he says—.
God, he’s such a dork. Clearly, Eddie gets him funny short socks all the time.
What? Those are useful. And Buck’s eyes always crinkle at the prospect of whatever Eddie comes up with, whether it’s a sock with a Galaxy design, or Burgers, Apples, Barbie logos… Naturally, the ones with small firetrucks are his favorite— Eddie had to put in a special order, because apparently those are only sold in kid’s sizes, which is rude—, but Eddie guesses the Barbie ones come pretty close.
Let’s be honest, Buck deserves the whole world. And who is Eddie to deny Buck anything, really?
Also, is Eddie dreading going to find Buck? Yup. He is. He doesn’t know what to say, ‘Good morning, Buck. My brother. Just so you know, you are so warm and comfy and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again if I’m not by your side, but always in a friendly way, as best friends, of course. Because that’s what we are. Right? Right!?’ or ‘Hey! Quick question. Were you, by any chance, dreaming about me last night, and did you mean it when you called me ‘Baby’? Did you? Am I your baby? And do you love me? You said it yourself. Do you? Haha. Dude. Please.’
Yeah, definitely not.
Eddie groans and leaves the couch, walking slowly to the kitchen, where he immediately finds Buck, barefoot, wearing the #1 Buck in the World apron with a smiling cartoon deer that Chris got him as a joke– except Buck absolutely loved it, because he is an actual angel. Buck stares surprised at Eddie.
“Hey!” Buck says, his face a little flushed, “Um, sorry for going all octopus on you last night, man. Should’ve kicked me out,” he jokes, rubs the back of his own neck, “Did you catch any sleep?”
Man?
Man? Eddie thinks to himself, hysterically. Except, instead of voicing that thought…
“Buck.” Eddie greets, robotic, trying to put a smile on his face, “My best friend. And fellow firefighter.”
Buck blinks slowly at him, smiles tentatively, “Um, yeah?”
“Nothing.” Eddie says, quickly, “I was saying hello. And now, goodbye,” he rushes to add, turning around to leave.
Great, Eddie. Just great. That went so smoothly. God, how embarrassing. He’s tempted to find a hole to bury himself in.
“Eddie, we have a shift together!” Buck yells at him, confusion clear in his voice.
Shit. That means no grabbing his keys to drive to Alaska. Change of plans.
“I have something to do!” Eddie yells back, without a second look, walking— or running, more like, straight to his bedroom.
“You didn’t say if you catched any sleep!” Buck adds, complaining. Eddie ignores it and immediately locks himself in.
He takes a deep breath, his back against the door. Everything is fine. Buck is calling him man and not baby and doesn’t mention anything about loving Eddie, anything at all. It’s all right, really.
Is Eddie about to have a panic attack? Nah. He’s solid. He breathes in and out, in and out, in and out, and everything keeps being fine, good, great.
Is he about to name five things he can see? Nah. Truly.
Okay. Enough. Eddie needs to man up. God, no, that sounds eerily like his father. So, scratch that, he doesn’t need to man up— he’s already a man. In simple terms, what he really needs to do is…
Well, to be less afraid.
And to accomplish it, he’s not gonna think even for a second about the thing that makes him afraid. That’ll do, surely. Right?
Ugh, again, something that his father would do, ignore something until it goes away, burying his feelings. But Eddie is not his father, and he is damn allowed to repress certain stuff. Leave him alone.
It’s just— Shit. He didn’t want Buck to suddenly tell him in the light of the morning, awake this time, that he loved him, of course. Except, thinking about it, apparently he didn’t want Buck to not do it, either… It’s complicated.
He keeps breathing, keeps thinking about relaxing stuff, such as, um, well, last night’s events… Yeah, this is definitely not working. Time to stop hiding from Buck. Eddie lets out a big sigh and leaves the room cautiously. Immediately, he finds Buck sitting on the couch, an almost-pout on his mouth, giving him The Sad and Wet Kicked Puppy Eyes.
No, sir. Eddie will not fall for those.
Buck tilts his head, “Eddie?” he asks, carefully.
Eddie hums, unable to form words. He thought this would be easier but his heart feels like he’s running a marathon.
“Are you mad at me?” Buck adds, and it brings Eddie to reality again.
Eddie blinks, surprised, “What?”
“Um, I— You seem weird, dude.” Buck points out, shrugs.
“I’m not—” Eddie starts, ready to deny everything, except Buck interrupts him.
“You are,” he insists, “Is this because I made you spend the night on the couch? I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you and I’m—”
“No.” Eddie says, instantly, “No. Cool.” Buck gives him a confused look, he flushes, clarifies, “I mean, it’s cool. Cool, fine. Great. I didn’t mind.”
Buck tilts his head, frowns rather endearingly, Eddie will not scream his lungs out, “Okay,” he eventually nods, “If you say so, then it’s cool.”
“Yup.” Eddie agrees, quickly. “It’s cool. So cool. And good.” Jesus Christ, he needs to stop speaking, “Um, did Chris wake up yet?” he asks, remembering that he didn’t even check the time.
Buck finally smiles, it’s small, but it counts, “Eds, it’s almost 11 am. I already dropped him off at school.”
What? Did he sleep that long?
Where is the stuff he learned at the Army when he needs it, huh? Oh, but God forbid he tries to live his life normally, no, the stupid PTSD caused by it follows him everywhere.
“What?”
Buck seems to hesitate, “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up— I still felt guilty for ruining your night’s sleep, I guess,” he tells him, shrugging.
If only Buck knew. That was, probably, the best night’s sleep of his life. Except Eddie can’t say that, because of the implications.
“Oh. Thanks for driving Chris, I didn’t realize…” he says, blinking, then adds, easily enough, as if his heart weren’t beating loudly, “And stop feeling guilty or worrying about that, I slept well.”
Good enough to forget his basic instinct to be up at 7 am every day.
“Fine…” Buck concedes, his voice still a little uncertain. Eddie rolls his eyes fondly at him, which makes Buck smile, huffing out a little laugh. That’s good. He should smile all the time.
Baby. I love you, Eddie. Baby. I love you, Eddie. Baby. I love you, Eddie. Baby. I love you, Eddie. Baby. I love you, Edd—
“You hungry?”
“Huh?” Eddie says, confused. Then processes it, nods, “Yeah, starving, actually. You made something?”
Buck flashes a grin at him, hums, gets up and walks to the kitchen. Eddie follows suit, of course. “I did! Okay, so, I had a craving for blueberry muffins and Chris always loves those— I know, I know you don’t like blueberries, stop making that face. That’s why I made you strawberry ones, completely separated from ours,” he explains, proudly. “One batch for me and Chris, and one for you.”
Oh.
Oh.
Fuck, Eddie loves him. Like, loves him. Loves loves him, in case he’s not being clear enough. Holy shit. When did this even happen? What’s he supposed to do? Does anyone else know? Does Buck know? Can he disappear and call Adriana for a while, demanding answers? Oh, God.
Buck’s smile falters at the lack of response, “Uh, we also have eggs and bacon in case you want those?” he offers.
We.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“Eddie?”
Eddie breaks, “You were sleep-talking last night,” he spills out, before he can stop himself.
Buck pauses, “Really? Did I say something embarrassing?" he asks, jokingly, while he grabs two plates and cups, getting everything ready to have their breakfast– or brunch, this late.
Eddie feels a sting in his heart, he closes his eyes for a second, “You, um— it seemed like you were having a conversation with someone.”
Buck raises both his eyebrows, a confused frown on his face, “You’re scaring me, man. I don’t remember anything, was it bad? I haven’t had night terrors in a while but…”
“No,” Eddie says, quickly. “It wasn’t a night terror— nor bad.” he assures, Buck nods and raises an eyebrow at him, curiously. Okay, he takes a deep breath, “I guess… I guess you were talking to me, in your dream.”
That makes Buck stop on his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “Was I?” he croaks out, drops the muffins unceremoniously and starts rambling, “You know, I actually have to check something at the loft, you know how my landlord gets, plus I haven’t been there in a few days... My plants, uh, my plants must be dying. And I’m not really hungry. I gotta— I’ll leave,” he says, all in one go, and makes a beeline for his keys. “See you later. Bye.”
Buck doesn’t even have plants.
Eddie stops him, bodily blocking the door of the kitchen. Buck takes a sharp breath, as if someone just punched him, and looks at him surprised. “You called me…” Eddie starts, clearing his throat, and Buck inhales sharply then closes his eyes, seeming in pain, “Baby. You called me ‘Baby.’ Your baby, specifically.”
“Oh my Go— Eddie, I’m so, so—”
“Let me finish, please,” he says, softly. Buck seems to make himself smaller, but nods. “Then, you told me that you loved me.”
I love you, Eddie.
I love you, Eddie.
I love you, Eddie.
Buck covers his face with his hands, Eddie takes a step closer to him. “I’m sorry,” he replies in a mumble, sounding miserable, “I didn’t mean for you to... to hear that.”
Eddie pauses, two feet away from him, “Did you mean it?”
Buck groans, drops his hands, revealing his bright red cheeks, “I’ve just told you, I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”
“No, no,” he clears his throat, “Did you mean what you said? The— the baby and the I love you, Eddie.”
Please. Eddie prays.
“Oh boy, should’ve made a bigger breakfast considering it’s the last one we share,” Buck says, almost to himself, then locks eyes with Eddie, exhales loudly, “I did. I do. Of course, I’m sorry. But I’m getting over it— I swear, Eddie, I have a very detailed plan.”
Okay. Eddie will sit to carefully think about this and—
“You don’t need to,” Eddie replies immediately, loud and honest, almost as if someone is making him.
“What?”
Now, Eddie adds, more convinced of it himself. “I said, you don’t need to get over it.”
Buck sighs, paces around, “I mean, it’s hard, but what else am I going to do, huh? It’s a fucking cliché– I am, falling for my straight best friend.”
Yeah, think again.
“Apparently, I’m not straight,” he says, easily. It feels good, saying that out loud, even though he didn’t know before, but, well, the feelings he has for Buck? Those are truly not platonic, not at all. How did he fool himself for so long?
Buck stops his pacing, eyes wide, “Huh?”
“Just realized it, with your muffins, really. But, um, I kind of love you, too?” he breathes, then adds, just to clarify, “Not in a friendly way.”
“Eddie, don’t joke with this, dude,” Buck tells him, letting out a hysterical laugh, he starts pacing again, “I’ll give you all the space you need but—”
“Nope. Don’t want space, not from you.” Eddie shrugs, walks closer to him, and puts a hand on his shoulder to make him still, “In fact, I’d like for us to be as close as possible all the time.”
Buck opens his mouth, the perfect representation of pure shock. Eddie can’t help but huff out a small laugh at the sight.
“So…” Eddie prompts.
Buck still looks like a statue, frozen in his spot.
“Buck,” he says, softly, never retracting his hand on Buck’s shoulder. Buck gasps, “I just confessed my eternal gay love for— hmpf” Eddie is cut off by Buck’s lips crashing into him and Buck’s hands grabbing his waist, hard, and—
Oh.
That’s how it’s supposed to feel?
He returns the kiss, enthusiastically, cornering Buck against the refrigerator and grabbing his jaw to get him closer. Buck makes an appreciative sound at the back of his throat, and Eddie wants to kiss every inch of him.
Buck turns them around, which, hot, and suddenly breaks the kiss, pants against his mouth, “I love you, too, by the way. You’re the love of my life. My baby. Definitely not in a friendly way, either,” he says, and Eddie nods dumbly, connecting their lips again.
It’s actually amazing, and the fact that Buck tastes like–
Eddie is the one to abruptly stop, now “Strawberries!” he accuses, pretending to be offended, “You taste like strawberries. Did you eat my special muffins?”
Buck seems to hold it together for less than a second, then bursts out laughing, “Maybe,” he shrugs, face still blushed and eyes shining. Eddie has never seen anyone look more beautiful.
Eddie swallows audibly, “Traitor,” he says, not a trace of heat in his voice. Without a second thought, he adds, “What a way to treat your boyfriend.”
“I made, very lovingly, ten muffins for my boyfriend.” Buck clarifies, matter-of-factly, not even missing a beat, “And only ate one. Because it kind of looked better than mine.”
Woah, boyfriend. Despite being the one to bring it up, Eddie is surprised, pleasantly so.
Good luck trying to stop smiling after Buck calls you his boyfriend, Eddie thinks to himself. He loves that word already, except he wants to upgrade it as soon as possible. Husband sounds nice, too, doesn’t it?
“Still.” Eddie insists, rolling his eyes fondly.
Buck grins at him, all boyish and happy and Eddie can’t help but bring him closer again, crashing their mouths together.