Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (Buddie)
Status: Complete (1247 words)
Summary: Eddie is good at giving his son what he needs, but sometimes he would like to give him what he wants instead.
BINGO square "You've got something on your lip, here let me"
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Eddie loved his son, and because his son hardly asked for anything, when he did, Eddie liked to give it to him. So, when Christopher mentioned that Ruthie, the girl who sat next to him at lunch, brought homemade cookies every day, Eddie felt terrible. Especially when Christopher went on to say that Ruthie’s mom baked her cookies with love, and he wondered if that’s why they tasted so good. Suddenly store bought, boxed snacks, seemed woefully inadequate.
It was because of that conversation that Eddie found himself in the kitchen, on his day off, Carla’s recipe in hand, mixing chocolate chip cookie dough that seemed…not quite right. He was sure it should be thicker, possibly less oily, but he had no clue what he'd done wrong, or how to fix it. Maybe he should have accepted Carla’s offer to help, he had been sorely tempted, but he was pretty sure for this to work, it had to be his love mixed into the batter. After all, he doubted that Ruthie’s mom needed any back up when she baked.
With a sigh, Eddie gave the mess a last, half hearted stir, before deciding it wasn’t going to get any better. He could throw it out and start again…definitely an option…instead he opted to maintain the optimistic expectation that the cookies would come out golden brown and perfect, in spite of their humble beginning.
Eddie was just finishing carefully spooning the questionable dough, onto his parchment covered cookie sheet, when Buck came charging through the door. Eddie looked up at the clock and realized that if it took Ruthie’s mom this long to make one batch of cookies, it must be her full-time job, and called out to Buck to join him. He heard the sound as Buck dropped his bag, and tossed his keys, already starting in on the description of his day, enthusiasm not at all dampened by the double shift he was coming off of.
“Eddie, you are never going to believe what happened! It was the last hour of my shift and we got swamped when the 133 engine broke down, so I-" Buck’s recount was cut short as he descended on the kitchen, taking in the mess, and drawing his own conclusion. “Wow, you didn’t have to cook for me, man. I thought we were going out.” The last is said with enough humor that Eddie knows Buck is amused by his culinary efforts.
Eddie raised an eyebrow, accepted Buck’s peck on the cheek, and allowed the other man to sidle up close behind him.
“Funny,” Eddie said, scraping dough off his spoon. “They’re cookies. For Chris.”
Buck’s breath on Eddie’s neck was entirely too distracting, and Buck knew it. “Are they? Chocolate chip is my favourite too, though.”
Dropping his spoon into the mixing bowl, Eddie turned to wrap his arms around Buck’s waist. He was wearing a shit eating grin, and Eddie had to smile because Buck always had that effect on him. No matter Eddie’s mood, or what might be wrong, Buck was always right. He was Eddie’s biggest strength, and greatest weakness, all at the same time.
“Are they cookies? Or are they for Chris?” Eddie asked wryly. “Don’t worry, there will enough for both of my favorite guys.” Eddie told him breathily, with a wink and a quick kiss on the lips. “Made with plenty of love.”
Buck grinned, and forced Eddie back against the counter, with a thrust of his hips. “That, sounds really nice.” He said, nuzzling Eddie’s shoulder, and trying to work a hand up under his shirt…then suddenly, he paused.
“Is this about Ruthie’s mom?”
And people thought Buck was clueless. Embarrassed, Eddie squirmed away from Buck’s probing hand, gave him a light shove, and turned back to his baking sheets. He needed to hide how invested he was because, really, he shouldn’t be. Not everyone needed to produce perfectly baked goods. That’s why there were Oreo’s.
“Can’t a guy bake without being harassed?” Eddie muttered, moving around Buck to slide the cookies into the oven and set a timer. “Now, do me a favor and take those out when it beeps? I’ll grab a shower and we can head out to eat.”
Eddie turned to walk away but admonished with a backward glance.
“And no sampling yet, Buck!”
Eddie was quick to shower and get dressed because Buck was untrustworthy with treats. The whole endeavor would be for nothing if there were no cookies left for Chris when he got home. The smell in the house was promising when Eddie left the bedroom, but when he arrived in the kitchen he was disappointed.
“What happened?” He asked Buck, who was poking at the hot tray on the island in front of him.
“Well,” Buck mumbled, around a mouthful, “they look kinda weird...but they taste pretty ok.”
“They’re flat.” Eddie observed, stepping to Buck’s side. “And…” he frowned down at the large, melted mess, “they don’t look like cookies.”
Buck swallowed and wiped the crumbs from his hands, on his pants. His eyebrows knit together, contemplating. “Did you cream the butter while it was cold? Bobby says you have to.” He shrugged. “Meh, Christopher won’t mind.”
Maybe, but Eddie minded. He was sure Ruthie’s mom baked perfectly round, evenly sized cookies, that were the ideal blend of soft and crunchy. He was sure she knew not to melt the butter, or overmix the dough, and she probably never second guessed herself. He sighed at his thoughts, then Buck was beside him giving his shoulder a squeeze. One look at his partner and Eddie couldn’t help a brief smile, even through his feelings of failure.
“Dude, how many did you eat?” He reached up to brush at a chocolate smear on Buck's cheek, turning fully to look at the man. “You’ve got something on your lip, too,” he said, squinting. “Here, let me…Buck, are you wearing lip gloss?”
Buck stepped back with an affronted look, but he couldn’t hide his blush. “No, I’m not! Geez, Eddie.”
Eddie reached out again, curiously, and Buck backed away from his hand.
“Why are your lips so shiny then?” Eddie laughed, but not unkindly. “And sticky?” Buck was always surprising him.
Buck folded his arms, shoulders back, drawn up to his full height. “It’s chap stick if you must know. It’s for men, Ed. Ones that want soft… unchapped lips.”
Eddie bit his cheek, trying to suppress anymore merriment. He didn’t want to hurt Buck's feelings.
“Of course,” Eddie said, slyly, stepping back into Buck’s space. “And your lips,” Eddie stretched up to lick at the corner of Buck’s mouth, “are by far the softest,” Eddie probed with his tongue until Buck yielded, “I’ve ever kissed.”
Eddie hooked his fingers into Buck’s waistband, holding tight, and letting his boyfriend back him into the island. Boosting him up, Buck growled, grappling with clothing that was simply in the way now.
“It's cherry vanilla. I hope you like the taste.” Buck rasped in his partner’s ear, edging between Eddie’s spread thighs, arms tight around him, fingers clawing at his back. It was possessive, primal, and unbelievably hot.
Eddie fell back on the counter top, and there was a loud crash, as he knocked the tray and all its cookies flying. On one hand, Eddie knew he was going to have to start all over again…on the other, he knew it would be worth it.