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“Buck.” Eddie says as he walks into the kitchen. Buck’s barely turned towards him before Eddie throws the package in his hands over to his best friend, chuckling as he fumbles with it.
“What is this?”
“Open it and you’ll find out.” Eddie drawls, tugging out the chair at the table and sitting down, starting to sort through the mail he brought in with him. “Unless you can see through manila envelopes suddenly.”
“You’re so funny.” Buck deadpans, dropping the package onto the counter so he can grab a pair of scissors from the junk drawer. “You bought me something?”
Eddie glances up, lifting an eyebrow at the blond, “Is that really that surprising?”
Buck points the scissors in his hand over at Eddie, “I’m usually the one giving gifts.”
“So I’m not allowed to get you anything?”
“It’s not my birthday.”
“I need a reason?”
“And you haven’t done anything to warrant buying me something as an apology.”
Eddie splutters at that, “Excuse me?!”
Buck taps the tip of the scissors against his mouth, and Eddie fights his natural dad instincts to lecture him. Buck is a grown ass man. He knows how to handle scissors. Hopefully.
“Just open the package, Buck.” Eddie says with a sigh, focusing back on his bills. Although inside he’s giddy; when he had come across the items while aimlessly scrolling during some down time on their shift a few days ago, he had nearly burst out laughing. He had barely refrained from paying for expedited shipping.
The sound of ripping fills the kitchen as Eddie keeps his eyes down on the mail in his hand, biting his lip to stop the smile that is threatening to spread wide across his face.
He doesn’t want to give away the surprise.
But curiosity wins out, and so he peeks over at Buck from under his lashes, watching as his best friend’s face screws up in confusion as he pulls the secret items from the large manila envelope he’s more or less destroyed in opening.
Watching Buck on Christmas is adorable – he’s like a kid, ripping open the presents and leaving paper flying. He’s no different with the stuff he orders online.
It isn’t until Buck has unfolded the one item that he clues in, his face brightening as he laughs loudly, head tilted back and exposing his throat as the sound bubbles up around him and filling the room with pure happiness. It has Eddie smiling in turn, a grin wide across his face as he gives up on the pretense of sorting bills from junk, resting his chin on his hand, propped up by his elbow on the table. Buck looks over at him with those shining blue eyes, the skin crinkled around them from how broad his smile is.
In front of him, he’s holding up the apron Eddie had ordered for him. The pattern is blue and white checkered, similar to a picnic blanket, with a solid band of baby blue that will tie nicely around Buck’s waist and another band at the bottom. There’s a pocket of solid blue as well, trimmed with the same white lace that emphasizes the sweetheart neckline on the top. The colour matches Buck’s eyes, something Eddie hadn’t even noticed when ordering but is obvious now as Buck lays it against his chest, checking the size – which Eddie had been pleased to see that there had been a size big enough to cover Buck’s broad chest and drape nicely over his thick thighs.
“Really?”
“There’s more.” Eddie comments, eyes darting to the ripped envelope. “Check again.”
Folding the apron over his arm, Buck shoots Eddie a suspicious look as he reaches for the discarded package, pulling out a shock of pink. Buck’s eyebrows fly upwards on his forehead until he manages to get the item out of their plastic wrapping, and then he’s laughing even louder than before. He shakes his head as he holds up the bright pink dish gloves, yellow flowers scattered across them. They’re large, because Eddie had to get the biggest size to ensure they’d fit over Buck’s massive hands, and look almost comical flopping around in the air.
“Are you serious?”
“What?” Eddie smirks, “You always complain about getting messy while cooking, or how wet your shirt gets from washing dishes. And not to mention how much you whine about your sensitive hands. Jesus, Buck, you’re a firefighter!”
Buck points over at him, the pink gloves flopping over his hand and hanging limply, “We wear gloves at work, thank you very much.”
“Well now you’re covered on all counts.” Eddie sits back in his seat, crossing his arms against his chest. “You’re welcome.”
It’s a joke. Nothing more than a joke. Because Eddie will happily listen to Buck complain and always make sure there’s lotion in the house so Buck can prevent his hands from becoming dry and cracked. And really, there’s not much to be done about the mess that happens while cooking, because it’s Buck. He’s a tornado in a trailer park, in the best way possible.
Eddie loves watching him cook, watching him come to life and create something from nothing, watching him nourish Eddie and Chris simply because he wants to and cares for them.
“Jokes on you, Eds.” Buck flashes him a cheeky smile, “Because you think I’m just going to laugh this off and never use them.” He places the apron and gloves onto the counter, gathering his envelope to put in the recycling, because he and Chris had done a whole project on it, and Eddie had been forced to completely change the system in his house. “But I’m going to wear them and look fan-fucking-tastic.”
“I’m sure.” Eddie snorts, refocusing on his bills, because he does need to do some responsibilities today.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I bought them as a joke, Buck.” Eddie rolls his eyes, tossing some junk mail to the side, “Of course I don’t think you’re going to wear them.”
“You’ll see.”
“Alright.”
“Just you wait.”
“Are you done?”
“For now.”
And that’s it.
Until Eddie walks back into the kitchen a couple of hours later, following his nose towards the delicious smell of whatever the hell it is that Buck is cooking.
It’s only the two of them tonight, Christopher off being the social butterfly he is and hanging with friends, and yes Eddie is in full denial that his baby is growing up. Which is probably why Buck is putting so much effort into whatever he’s cooking – partially to soothe Eddie but also to soothe himself, because he had teared up the other week when he realized Chris didn’t fit into a pair of his old pants anymore.
It had been a whole thing.
But Eddie isn’t thinking about his son when he walks into the kitchen.
No, he isn’t thinking about anything.
Because he walks into the kitchen and sees Buck wearing the fucking apron.
And he looks…holy fuck.
“Hey!” Buck smiles over at him, somehow looking even softer than normal, and his eyes are even more blue from the colour of his apron. And has his waist always seemed so tiny? Also the curve of the sweetheart neckline is sitting just right on his big chest, and Eddie finds his gaze lingering there, wondering briefly how it would look without a shirt under it. Buck’s chest is impressive…
He snaps his gaze up, feeling his cheeks burn. “Hi.”
“You good?” Buck asks gently, head cocking to the side.
“Great!” Eddie croaks out.
He’s not great.
He’s so far from great.
Because Buck looks… fuck. Eddie doesn’t have words for it.
But Buck looks so good. So…soft. And almost feminine while still being incredibly masculine?
Like, there’s no denying the bulge of Buck’s biceps straining against the sleeves of his maroon coloured shirt he’s wearing, or the way his jeans are practically painted onto his thick thighs as he turns his back to Eddie, doing something at the stove. But there’s a gentleness in the way he dips his spoon into the pot, lifting it to his mouth to taste whatever it is he’s cooking. There’s a softness to his expression, a glow in his skin, and again – his eyes are so blue.
Plus the way the apron is hugging his curves, flowing over his big body…
Eddie inhales only to choke, bracing a hand on the wall as he pounds against his chest with his other, curled into a fist. Buck is in front of him in a second, eyes wide and hands hovering, and if Eddie thought Buck looked good from far away, he looks even better up close. The frilly lace of the apron only adds to the softness of the overall look, and it’s causing Eddie’s mind to spin.
Holy fuck.
This was meant to be a joke.
Not some…oh god.
This is Eddie’s moment, isn’t it?
“Eddie!”
He blinks, head jolting back to stare at Buck, whose lips are parted and wet, his tongue having darted out to lick along them only a second ago. His cheeks are flushed and rosy. His eyes, again so so blue, are wide and bright, staring back at Eddie with concern and worry.
He looks…beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?” Buck’s hand finally lands on Eddie’s shoulder, gliding down along his arm until his fingers wrap loosely around Eddie’s wrist. “What happened?”
“Breathed wrong.” Eddie whispers, but thinks realized I love you .
Buck’s lips curve into a smirk, one that Eddie desperately wants to kiss, “Breathing, huh? That’s what’s going to do you in?”
“Apparently.” Eddie murmurs, eyes roaming around Buck’s beautiful face. His hand falls from the wall, reaching out to pinch the fabric of the apron, “You’re, uh…wearing it…”
Buck tilts his head down, smiling as he looks back up from under his lashes, and a rush of heat passes through Eddie’s body. “Told you I’d wear it.” He steps back, the soft fabric slipping from between Eddie’s fingers, and then he gives a small spin, “What do you think?” Buck grabs the corners that hang around his thighs, holding up the bottom skirt, “I think I look pretty good.”
Eddie’s mind goes blank. Because the words ‘pretty’ and ‘good’ are not exactly what he would use. But he also suddenly can’t think of any words. All he can do is stare at Buck, mouth agape.
Thankfully, something bubbles over from the stove, taking Buck’s attention and forcing him to leave Eddie’s line of sight, allowing him to inhale without choking. He scrubs at his face, hoping his cheeks aren’t burning too bad.
“Smells good, Buck.” Eddie croaks out, crossing the kitchen to the cupboard of glasses, pulling one out and quickly filling it with water from the tap. He swallows it down in a few gulps. When he places the cup down on the counter, his eyes catch on the shock of pink. The gloves. He doesn’t let himself think about them as he turns around. “What’re you making?”
Unfortunately for Eddie, Buck doesn’t remove the apron.
Not while he finishes preparing their dinner before dishing it out. Not while they sit down, too close considering it’s only them, and eat. And not while they shoot the shit back and forth after they’re both sated and full.
No, he keeps wearing it the entire damn time.
Eddie thinks maybe it’s not unfortunate but instead quite fortunate.
“Wait,” Eddie stands as Buck collects the dishes, “you cooked!”
“And I’m cleaning.” Buck winks as he carries them over to the sink, Eddie trailing behind. “Have to break in my new gloves after all!”
Eddie can’t speak once more as he watches Buck tug on one glove and then the other, the image of him being a perfect little housewife completed. Eddie sort of wants to beg Buck to stay forever as his housewife.
Which is probably too much considering he’s only just realized he loves the man.
Buck is chattering about this and that as he cleans, handing Eddie the dishes to dry as he finishes cleaning them. Because this is what they do. This is…normal for them.
They’ve been doing this for years now.
And it settles something inside of Eddie as he nods and hums, not entirely sure what Buck is saying but enjoying the sound of his voice.
Eddie’s too focused on the pink gloves that clash against the soft blue of his apron, and yet somehow work perfectly.
He’s too focused on how great Buck looks standing at Eddie’s sink, doing the chores that Eddie has always hated a little bit.
He’s too focused on how right it is to have Buck here.
“Eddie?” Buck pauses, water dripping from his pink gloves. There’s a small spot of something on the skirt of the apron, and he still looks so fucking good. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”
“I–” Eddie blinks. Once, twice, a third time, and then he decides fuck it and leans in, pressing his mouth against Buck’s in a simple and chaste kiss. He pulls back just as quick, breath hitching in his throat.
Before he can stutter over an excuse or really anything, there’s wet latex grasping his cheeks and pulling him down into another kiss. Eddie pushes back immediately, fingers curling into the apron to tug Buck closer.
“Really?” Buck mumbles against Eddie’s mouth, neither willing to separate. “The apron and gloves do it?”
“Shut up.” Eddie licks along Buck’s lips, “You make a very hot housewife.”
Because of how close they are, he can feel how Buck shivers at his words, his lips parting and allowing Eddie’s tongue to slip inside, sliding along Buck’s. Eddie savours the taste of the spices from dinner, the tang of the beer Buck had drank with it, and just the essential flavour that is Buck underneath it all. His hands glide up along Buck’s waist, looking so nice and tapered in his apron, squeezing there.
“M’yours.” Buck says when they part, foreheads resting together as they pant heavily against one another. “Your housewife.”
“Damn right you are.” Eddie nips at Buck’s bottom lip. “Why do you think I bought you the apron and gloves?”
“Because you’re a little shit.” Buck leans in, pressing one, two, three quick kisses to Eddie’s mouth. “But I love you for it.”
“I love you too.” Eddie murmurs. “And I hope it’s not too soon to say that I kind of want to see you in nothing but this apron.”
Buck chuckles, his chest rumbling against Eddie’s, “Not the gloves?”
“No,” Eddie shakes his head, their noses brushing together, “Although you really do look good with them.”
“Pink is my colour?”
“Absolutely.” Eddie kisses him slowly, addicted to the taste of Buck already. “Gonna get you an apron in this colour.”
Buck shives again, “Yes, please.”
“My pretty little housewife…”
“Eddie…”
“Fuck this.” Eddie pulls back and then he fumbles to tug off the latex gloves, tossing them over his shoulder before he’s got his fingers wrapped around Buck’s own, leading him out of the kitchen, “Dishes can wait!”
Buck’s laugh echoes off of the walls, but he’s quick to follow on Eddie’s heels.