nat_thuy
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“Are you finally proposing?” Buck asks, and the air rushes out of Eddie like he’s been punched in the gut, a swift burst.
Hearing it from Buck makes it real, solidified, no longer a shapeless fantasy in his head.
"Proposing what?”
“Marriage, genius.” Buck snorts. “Duh.”
Buck peels Eddie's pomegranates, carves out the brown spots from his apples, eats the ugly, discolored fruit. Eddie wants to propose, spirals, and crashes a car about it.
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Bookmarked by nat_thuy
17 Feb 2026
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Home is with Eddie and Christopher now—not just in Buck’s head, but in actual, real life. Bobby asks Eddie if he’s fixed their showerhead, and Chimney’s begun calling it the Buckley-Diaz household which is so fucking dangerous to Buck’s wellbeing. Buckley-Diaz. He spends most of that shift daydreaming about it, and almost trips off the ladder. Eddie catches him by the waist, with a startled you okay, Buck? and he has to breathe very, very carefully so he doesn’t fucking swoon.
It’s everything Buck’s ever fucking wanted—being close to Eddie, living with Eddie, being there for Eddie.
Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. God, has there ever been a sweeter name?
— eddie moves in. buck pines.
Bookmarked by nat_thuy
13 Feb 2026
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“You were on a date?” Buck asks, bewildered, looking at his phone and then at Eddie. Realization hits him a second later, and his knees physically buckle as he croaks, “You’re over me?”
“Yes, alright, we don’t have to make a big deal out of it!” Eddie groans, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. “It doesn’t have to be a thing, just—”
“Doesn’t have to be a thing?!” Buck shrieks. “You just told me you’re over me and it doesn’t have to be a thing?!”
“What do you care anyway? You’re the one that was over me first!” Eddie immediately fires back, and flushes red. God, how is this getting worse?
“Me?” Buck splutters, and then— “Who told you?!”
— eddie goes on a date, gets drunk and leaves buck a voicemail. what could go wrong?
Bookmarked by nat_thuy
13 Feb 2026
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I’m in love with you.
“You’re not,” is the first thing Buck says when he gets a second to process, because—it’s fucking ridiculous, is what it is.
“Buck,” Eddie crosses his arms, defensive. “You–”
“That’s—You’re being cruel,” Buck stutters, eyes burning, because this has to be a joke. It has to be. “That’s not funny.”
"I’m not trying to be funny,” Eddie says, incredulous, splaying his arms out wide. “You’re the one who’s been pulling away because you hate that I love you!”
“I could never hate you loving me,” Buck says without thinking. Eddie’s words take a second to register, and then—
“WHAT?”
—or, two idiots in love and all the mess that it entails.
Bookmarked by nat_thuy
13 Feb 2026
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“You’re not. You’re straight.”
“I’m not straight. Who told you I was straight?”
“Eddie. Stop—Stop fucking with me, man. This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not. I don’t know what I am, but I’m definitely not straight. And I’m definitely in love with you.”
“You’re not!”
“Buck. I am.”
“You’re—You’re confused. You love me, like best friends do. Platonically. Not—Not romantically.”
“Jesus Christ.”
—sharing a twin sized bed in a shitty motel has a funny way of making you spill all your secrets.
Bookmarked by nat_thuy
13 Feb 2026