anon0_2
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"Evan Buckley," he murmurs, his fingers aching with how forcibly he's wringing his hands.
The nurse looks at him and tilts her head, as she presses her lips into a tight line, "I know, you've already told me." Her voice is soothing, somehow, but she's not helping, she's not– "One of the officers will be with you in a moment, you just need to wait for them to–"
"What happened?" Eddie interrupts her, avoiding her sympathetic gaze, focusing on the stripes of the Sergeant uniform a few feet from them.
The nurse—she can't be older than Eddie—looks conflicted.
"I'm sorry I don't have that kind of information, I just," she trails off, placing a hand on his arm. Eddie wants to step away from it. "I think it'd be better if you sat somewhere."
He needs someone to take him to Buck.Or, Eddie gets a call from the hospital to go identify the body of who the police thinks is Buck
Bookmarked by anon0_2
29 Jun 2026
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“I don’t know how to talk about it,” Buck says, days later, in the quiet of the bedroom.
Eddie and Christopher have stuck around Los Angeles. Buck hasn’t asked, and Eddie hasn’t said anything, and Buck knows better than getting his hopes up. He hopes, regardless. Christopher has been sleeping on the couch, and without another bed or air mattress, Eddie has been sleeping in Buck’s bed. With Buck.
It’s been—fine. Kinda sucks, actually, because Buck’s been breaking into these huge, heaving sobs every night for the past three weeks, curling up in the center of his king-sized bed and letting his tears soak into the pillows. He isn’t able to do that with Eddie here, has swallowed down the tears and only let them out in the shower, tucking all the ugly pieces of his grief away. He’s been dealing with it, and trying not to bother others with it, but apparently he’s failed that, too.
Buck is tired of drowning under the weight of his own grief. Eddie is desperate to get him to talk about it.
Bookmarked by anon0_2
18 Jun 2026
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It’s almost like — like Buck’s holding a possible thing in his hands, fragile and fledgling, born too early. It’s not the first time he’s felt this way, with Eddie. It’s happened before, mostly in kitchens.
“Did that guy tell you the name of the suite he put us in?”
The corner of Eddie’s mouth lifts. There, Buck supposes, is his answer.
“Yeah. Honeymooners, huh? Should we tell him about our disaster of a trip?”
His stomach lurches. God. Eddie’s taking this in stride; Buck should be thankful for it. Instead, he’s afraid he’ll be sick all over their shoes.
or: a pining buck has to navigate the Emotional Saw Trap that is the road trip back from new mexico. eddie, quite literally, comes along for the ride.
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Bookmarked by anon0_2
10 Jun 2026
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He starts to wriggle out of Eddie’s hold and is caught before he can go anywhere. “Eddie?”
“Can we go again?” Eddie asks.
Bookmarked by anon0_2
10 Jun 2026
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Eddie's hand shot up before his brain could stop him.
"Two thousand."
It was for the orphans.
The words left his mouth like they’d had been fired from a cannon, and every head at his table swivelled toward him.
"Eddie?" Chimney's eyebrows climbed so high they nearly lifted off his face.
"What." Eddie kept his gaze fixed on the stage, where Buck had gone very still, that grin frozen in place and his eyes locked directly on Eddie. “May can bid for Ravi, but I can’t bid for Buck?”
“I think that was different?” Chimney gaped at him. “…wasn’t it?”
Or
Eddie bids on Buck at the auction, things escalate from there.
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Warning: This fic is shameless smut and I regret nothing.Bookmarked by anon0_2
05 Jun 2026