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Summary
There’s a joke in here somewhere, probably. If he could figure out how to word it right. Hey, so we’ve both been broken up for a while—those Army days, man, shit gets lonely—
So, a widower walks into a bar, and he hasn’t been held by someone he loves in years.
So, the last time I was close to you, really close to you, I was restarting your heart. Isn’t that funny? We can laugh, right? You can laugh. It’s funny.
Jesus Christ.
Eddie rolls over in his empty bed, mashes his face back into his pillow, and forces himself to fall asleep.
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or: buck doesn’t touch eddie anymore. eddie’s losing it, a little bit.
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“Buck, I’m gonna need a lot more words here, buddy. Tie what for who?”
Buck sighs again, even louder and longer and noisier this time. “Eddie’s shoes,” he clarifies, through gritted teeth. “I—I usually tie them. For him.”
More silence, this time somehow more deafening. Buck inspects a stray line of grout until he can’t bear it anymore, then looks up for judgment.
Chim’s eyebrows are sky-high. “You’ve been tying Eddie’s shoes?” he repeats, strangled and high-pitched. “Regularly?”
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or: buck, eddie, and the intimacy of a properly-tied shoe.
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They’re on their 48 hours off, and yesterday, sweat-soaked and tired in the changing room, Eddie had said wanna watch a movie tomorrow, and Buck, gulping, having missed him like a limb, had said yeah—yes, of course, trying not to fling himself into Eddie’s arms, and one Jurassic Park and scrubbing marinara sauce out of the couch cushions where Christopher dropped his slice of pizza turned into beer and Mission Impossible on low volume, sun long gone down, Chris down the hall.
Series
- Part 3 of 911 ficlets
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Summary
He knew, somehow, that it’s been Eddie this entire time. Buck would only trust one person to touch him like that, and it’s Eddie. His body is frozen, but he wouldn’t move anyway. Eddie holds the scalpel, the blade hovering over Buck’s skin, and he pauses. The knife stills, waiting, as he asks, “Are you ready?”
Buck prefers when he had normal nightmares, about being trapped under a truck or drowning or losing the people he loved, rather than undergoing surgery in his dreams.
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wishing someone would film the way i’m looking at you right now by fleetinghearts
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
19 Jun 2025
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Summary
Which brings Eddie to his current predicament: drowning in love and unable to do a thing about it, all while being subjected to his criminally attractive best friend sauntering around sans a shirt at every hour of the goddamn day.
Morning toothbrushing? Shirtless. After school video games? Shirtless. Reading on the couch? Shirtless. Weeding the garden in LA summer sunshine? Shirtless and sweaty. Asleep half a foot of bedspace away from Eddie? There aren’t even pants involved. Existing day-to-day seems to have become a topless event where Buck is concerned, because Eddie has apparently racked up enough overdue penance for several lifetimes.
or, eddie loves living with his best friend. he just really wishes buck would put on a fucking shirt

