Tsuki2493
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Summary
Eddie recaps this in his head a couple more times and he’s — jealous. Fuck, he’s jealous. That’s the word for it, the heat coiling deep in his gut, his whole body wound like a spring about to snap.
Jealousy.
Which is a bizarre emotion to feel about your best friend sleeping with someone. Jealousy implies ownership, implies wanting, implies — implies that 1) Eddie is not straight, and 2) he is possibly in love with his best friend and maybe possibly wants to suck said best friend’s dick about it.
Alright — okay. Eddie feels like he needs to sit with that for a second, give it the space it deserves.
Eddie wants to suck a dick attached to a person who is a man.
Not just any dick, either. Buck’s dick. His best friend.
Huh.
He expected that to feel weirder. He expected sirens, maybe, or a crisis, or at minimum a dramatic internal monologue about his Catholic upbringing and the sanctity of heterosexuality.
Instead, there’s nothing. The sirens are silent, the crisis doesn’t come, and Eddie wants to suck his best friend’s cock. Non-platonically.
Or,
Eddie moves back to LA, finds out Buck slept with Tommy, and reacts accordingly. -
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The problem is, Buck broke the touch barrier. Before, Eddie’s ass existed in his reality as much as a mirage exists in the desert—something to observe at a distance with wonder. He could only dream about what it would be like to kneel at its shore and drink from its waters, but who wouldn’t? He’s thirsty as hell!
But then, Buck actually managed to reach it and discovered it isn’t a mirage, it’s an oasis, and now he’s just supposed to move on?
Buck has always known Eddie has a nice ass, and he is secure enough in his sexuality to let him know as such. It’s no big deal… Until it is.
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The thing is, now that he’s accepted being romantically inclined towards Buck, he’s pretty sure he sees Buck’s reciprocated feelings everywhere. It feels more like a matter of when rather than if. Like Buck’s a sure thing.
On the evening of Buck’s speed dating event, he comes out of their bedroom asking for help picking between two jackets, and Eddie simply says, “you don’t need to go to that.”
“Huh?” Buck’s eyebrows shoot up, framed by that blushed red birthmark.
Eddie shrugs, leaning back on the couch and kicking his feet up. “Go waste time if you want, but you really don’t need to.”
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Eddie is possessive of Buck, but he doesn't get jealous. Why would he? Buck's always been his.
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When Naruto is kidnapped from his orphanage at age three, Kakashi is so done with this shit. He gets Naruto back, tells the Hokage where to go (politely, because he isn't suicidal), and raises the boy himself. Or, you know, tries and is proud when there aren't too many explosions.
Then everybody starts to copy him and it's a whole thing.
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He realizes it right before everything goes to shit. He’s just standing there in the loft and Eddie’s handing him Christopher’s backpack and talking about “he’s not that fast” and “order pizza” and Buck sort of stares at him—partly in shock, partly in reverence—and he thinks "I love you." He shoves it down immediately, of course, as far down as it’ll go, but the fact of the matter is, it’s there somewhere, floating around inside of him. He can’t get rid of it now.
Not that it matters all that much, though, because there’s the whole quitting thing and the lawsuit thing and the argument in the grocery store and by the time he’s given his (re)start date he knows; he well and truly fucked up.
or: another classic post-lawsuit fic. Angst, hurt, some comfort, more angst, more comfort.