Ely33
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Buck’s expression crumples. “They thought we were a couple,” he says. It’s not what Eddie was expecting, and he feels wrong-footed and on the defensive all over again. It had rubbed him wrong for a lot of reasons in the diner, in front of the sheriff, but he could take it from them. He can take it from someone, anyone else, and simmer over it later, but he can let it go, put it out of his mind. But he discovers now he can’t, he can’t, take it from Buck.
Eddie isn’t sure what about it is worse. The fact that Buck wouldn’t have blinked an eye at this before, the nebulous before something went wrong, or that—
If he was brave, he would say, Is it really that awful to you? Am I really that awful?
“Yeah,” he says instead, voice as steady as he can get it, ignoring the deep, terrible feeling in his stomach, “so?”
Bookmarked by Ely33
19 Mar 2026
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Mi media naranja. Half an orange, right? Like—two sides of the same coin, or something. A complementary coupla guys. A little silly, maybe, referring to a grown adult as a piece of fruit, but the sentiment is sweet enough.
“Hey,” Buck asks the girl beside him. “Um, Alba. She called Rosie ‘mi media naranja’. Like—half an orange? Is that a common saying in Mexico?”
“Oh, sure,” she nods. “It’s a pretty normal term of endearment. Cheesy as hell, but, well.” She gestures at where Eddie and the two women are sitting. Alba’s holding Rosie’s hand now. “When you’ve known each other that long and fit together that well… it’s just sweet.”
My most best friend. That’s what Alba said. That’s—well, that’s who Eddie is to him, essentially. And if what Eddie’s missing is a little affection in a language that feels like home, well. Buck can give that to him.
or, buck notices the lack of spanish terms of endearment in eddie’s life since his abuela died. so, he’s armed with what he’s been reliably informed is a totally normal thing to call your buddy. Operation Make My Best Friend Feel Cherished, as he’s named it on a trial basis in the privacy of his own head, is a-go
Bookmarked by Ely33
07 Mar 2026
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Maddie swings the door open approximately thirty seconds after Buck knocks.
“You might throw up,” Buck tells her.
“Hi, Buck,” Maddie says mildly. “Why might I throw up?”
“You’re lactose intolerant.”
“I’m not following.”
“I’m milk,” Buck says. “Because, clearly, I have an expiration date.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “I thought the auction went well?”
Nonsensically, Buck says, “My soul is not well.”
OR: after the LAFD auction, Eddie reveals who his mystery bidder is. Buck, shockingly, does not take this well.
Bookmarked by Ely33
01 Mar 2026
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"So," Buck says, sliding onto the seat next to Eddie while the auction winds down around them. "Mystery bidder. That's exciting."
Eddie takes a very deliberate sip of water. "Yep."
"You know who it was?"
"Nope."
"You don't even seem curious," Buck tries.
"Not really."
"Someone spent over two grand on you, Eddie. On a date with you. Like a date-date. With food and conversation. And you're just— what, chill about it?"
Eddie shrugs. The picture of nonchalance. "It's for charity."
"It's for— okay." Buck gapes. He’s got nothing. He’s standing at the door and Eddie has deadbolted it from the inside. "Cool. Great."
It is not cool. It is not great. Buck is aware that his definition of cool and great has always been somewhat flexible, but this doesn't qualify under any interpretation.
Or,
Buck just wants to know who bid on Eddie. That's it. That's all he wants. He's being totally normal about it.Bookmarked by Ely33
28 Feb 2026
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“There’s no way you want me as much as I want you.”
Eddie scoffs. “Try me.”
“I want to, like, hold onto your ankles and never let go.”
Without missing a beat, Eddie offers: “I want to handcuff myself to you so that you can never go anywhere without me.”
Or, Buck worries about wanting too much. Eddie literally and metaphorically scoffs in his face.
Bookmarked by Ely33
28 Feb 2026