LoloEKA
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"Dad." Chris looks up. "Dad, please tell me this isn't actually you. Please tell me you have a secret twin or something."
Eddie frowns. "What isn't me?"
"This." Chris shoves his phone across the table, nearly knocking over Eddie's water glass in the process.
Eddie catches it before it can slide into his plate and looks at the screen. It's TikTok, which Eddie barely understands despite Chris's many patient attempts to explain it to him. There's a video playing on loop and the quality is terrible but Eddie recognizes his kitchen immediately. Those floor-to-ceiling windows he'd been so excited about when he first saw the apartment. The window with the busted blinds he keeps meaning to replace. His couch. That’s definitely his couch.
And yeah, okay, that's definitely him, shirtless, wearing the stupid cowboy hat that his buddy from his new firehouse gave him as a welcome-to-the-team gift.
That’s him. Cooking dinner. In full view of his massive windows. For apparently the entire internet to see.
"Oh my god," Eddie says faintly.
Or,
A crash course in accidental thirst traps and the soulmates they attract.Bookmarked by LoloEKA
02 Jun 2026
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Eddie spots his mother first, standing near the living room with a glass of wine frozen halfway to her mouth. Her eyes track from Eddie's face to Buck's face to their joined hands, and Eddie watches her go through the five stages of grief in the span of two seconds.
Her right hand moves automatically, decades of muscle memory taking over as she touches her forehead, then her chest, then her left shoulder, then her right, her lips pressing together as she mutters what Eddie can only assume is a prayer for his immortal soul.
Across the room, Eddie catches Shannon's eye. She's standing by the fireplace with a drink in her hand and Chris at her side, and she looks like she's having to physically restrain herself from applauding. Her free hand is pressed over her mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter. When she catches Eddie looking she raises her glass in a tiny salute, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Chris, bless him, has no such restraint. His face splits into a massive grin and he turns to his mother and says, in a voice that is so loud it echoes, "Mom, you didn't tell me Dad's boyfriend was cool."
Or,
Eddie needs a fake boyfriend. Maddie's brother is happy to help.- Language:
- English
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- 14,725
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Bookmarked by LoloEKA
02 Jun 2026
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“I heard you two were expanding your family! Another little one at Durand. We were so excited when we saw the enrollment paperwork.” She clasps her hands together. “Theo is an absolute joy. Let me show you what he’s been working on.”
Expanding your family.
Buck opens his mouth to redirect — it's a reflex, the correction sitting right there on his tongue. This isn’t the first time they’ve been mistaken for more than two totally platonic best friends who are both men and also raising children together.
It’s right there, polite and practiced: Oh, we’re not actually—
But suddenly Eddie’s hand is on his back. Not his shoulder this time, but lower. A few inches lower than two totally platonic best friends who are both men and also raising children together would justify.
Eddie’s palm presses flat against the base of Buck’s spine, fingers spread wide like he’s anchoring them both to the same spot.
“Thank you so much,” Eddie says. “We’re really proud of him.”
Or: The totally platonic act of raising not just one, but two kids with your straight best friend.
Bookmarked by LoloEKA
28 May 2026
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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.
Series
- Part 16 of ejo + 911
Bookmarked by LoloEKA
28 May 2026
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sometimes an onion really is just an onion (and that’s all there is to it) by snarkymuch
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
13 Jun 2023
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“Shit, shit, shit,” he cursed as he gripped the wrist of his injured hand, holding it above his heart. The cut wasn’t massive and, by design, not something you could stitch, but that didn’t make it any less messy or risky.
The blood thinners were not his friend right now.
A singular river of red trailed down his forearm to his elbow, then dripped onto the floor, leaving little splatters that his shoes soon smeared against the tile.
“Towel, towel, towel,” he said, spinning on his heel, gaze raking the room frantically. “Fuck—shit, there you are.”
Buck wanted fajitas, so he went to the store for the sweet onions he needed, but he got the wrong kind because he unexpectedly ran into the team, which had nothing to do with why he was crying in his kitchen--obviously, the shitty onions were to blame.
And his day just gets worse from there--as he ends up fileting off a strip of skin, bleeding everywhere, then accidentally hitting his talk-to-text and sending a ramble he never meant anyone to hear to the last person on earth to care: Eddie.
- Language:
- English
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- 5,414
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- 1/1
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- 247
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Bookmarked by LoloEKA
21 Jun 2025
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Bookmarker's Notes
re-read! shame on my soul for not kudosing at first read.