Chapter Text
They told him it wasn’t a punishment but it sure did feel like it.
How else was he supposed to take being exiled to Los Angeles with no return date in sight?
“It’s not exile, Buck. It’s paid leave.” Maddie had said with a long suffering sigh and an affectionate roll of her eyes as she packed for him. He may have thought that if he just avoided packing then maybe the powers that be would change their minds.
Stupid really. They just would’ve sent him without any clothes. But still, a guy had to try.
“They just want to give you time to heal, Buck. You’re lucky to be walking.”
And yeah, Buck didn’t need the reminder, thanks.
But Maddie had taken his snipe with grace not many people had the patience for when it came to Buck. Maddie had put up with a lot of Buck when most people wouldn’t have bothered. Hell, most agencies would’ve burned him the second that concrete had been lifted off his leg and they saw the bone sticking out of his shin. Buck was still lucky he had a job.
At least he got to bring his bow with him.
Los Angeles was nice in the way that most cities usually were in the daytime with the weird and unusual creeping out at night. The ocean was an hour away and the lofted safehouse SHIELD had stashed him in was way more comfortable than some shed in the middle of nowhere. If Buck had to guess, he’d even go so far as to say that it was picked out with him in mind. The open floor plan gave him plenty of room to move around with a balcony that gave him a stunning view of the city. The lofted bedroom gave Buck the height he needed to feel comfortable enough to sleep with both eyes closed even though he had a gun and knife stashed within reach of both sides of the bed. The neighbors minded their own business and there was even an elevator Buck pointedly ignored no matter how much his leg may throb as he climbed up the stairs.
It even had cable and Netflix too.
But Buck lasted all of a day before he started to feel like a caged bird and old habits die hard. He canvassed the neighborhood– a quiet part of downtown with a young community that Buck didn’t stand out in with his perpetual baby face at twenty-seven– and checked for bugs when he came into the apartment from running errands. He practiced at a range that didn’t ask too many questions when Buck paid extra to have the place to himself after hours and he’d only gone hard enough to make his fingers bleed one time when the ache in his leg had been too much to let him sleep.
He jogged a lot too. Buck said jog because if he told Maddie he went on a run all that would get him was that pinched worried expression he didn’t need.
He’s fine.
Buck was better than ever.
He didn’t need this exile/vacation.
However, Buck certainly wasn’t going to complain about the coffee.
By necessity, Buck wasn’t a creature of habit. It made being tracked that much harder if he changed his routine. He never took the same way home twice. He always made a point to run a couple extra laps out of his way when he was on a run. He didn’t eat at the same time. Hell, he didn’t even go to sleep at the same time. Being a spy made kicking a sleep schedule out the window that much easier.
But there was just something about Isabel’s that Buck couldn’t quit. He’d even gone so far as to consider that the namesake of the store put something in her coffee that made it so good and Buck was sure there was probably something there about Buck’s inability to accept the good things in life without a dash of suspicion but he didn’t need to get into that. Nope. Isabel’s was just that good.
And the scones? Jesus Christ, Buck would eat nothing but those scones for the rest of his life if he could.
It was on a day when the sun was blistering hot on Buck’s neck during his run that he met him. Buck’s lungs burned and his leg was not going to be thanking him for the extra mile but he’d woken up with the grips of a nightmare clawing at his mind and a skittering jitter in his fingers that made him crave sending arrow after arrow into a target until his skin was raw. The small pebble in his hand that he carried on his run helped a little— the size and weight similar to a bug— but it burned hot in his palm the longer he ran with no end in sight.
So, Buck did what would’ve made Maddie proud and listened to his body. By the time he reached Isabel’s, he’d slowed to a walk and was only mildly regretful about the ache in his muscles as he opened the door. The cool air conditioning chilled the sweat on Buck’s skin but greeted him with a face full of aromas that made his mouth water. Hot, strong coffee. Sweet creams and jams with the scent of fresh baked scones. Caramel and cinnamon that seemed to brighten up whatever dark mood that clung to Buck’s back until he felt his face relaxing into a smile.
It smelled like a home. Or whatever Buck thought a home should be. The only concept of home that Buck knew was what the weight of Maddie’s arms wrapped around him. Maybe that was why he was drawn to it.
… Could also be the scones.
Isabel’s was a quaint little place too delicate and homey to be called a hole in the wall. The mismatched furniture was comfortable with almost every soft surface claimed by people with their noses lost in a book or their phone as they sipped their coffee to the crooning melodies of an old Selena CD playing in a beat up boom box.
It was quiet and predictable and the closest temptation Buck let himself get to a routine as he would get.
Which was why it was super rude for the hot guy behind the counter to ruin everything.
Like so rude.
Military. Or former. Buck could tell by the posture and the way he met everyone’s gaze head on, speaking with a confidence many— Buck included— tried to fake on a good day. He was tall with a gentle smile that lit up his face and the kindest eyes Buck had ever been caressed with. Tufts of brown hair had been combed into a swoon worthy swoop that Buck’s fingers itched to run through. Dressed in jeans with the sleeves of his Henley pushed up to reveal some delicate tattoos, left little to the imagination and holy shit —
Buck tore his gaze away before anyone caught him staring at the hot barista’s ass like it was a work of art at the Louvre.
Except tearing his gaze away meant Buck tried desperately looking anywhere else except for apparently where he was going. His running shoes caught on the step leading up to the counter and Buck went flying face first onto his hands and knees with a loud crash that would’ve had anyone questioning Buck’s competency as a super secret spy who liked to think he was good at his job.
Buck bit down on his lip to keep down his groan as his whole body chose that moment to remind him of his previous bad decisions. His muscles throbbed in time with his heartbeat as he tried to breathe through the pain and the embarrassment that was flooding into his face.
“Ow.” Buck bit out because he didn’t know what else to do.
“Oh my God!”
Maybe the floor could just swallow him up.
“Are you okay?”
He’d seen it done before.
Warm, steady hands settled over the curve of his shoulder and Buck had to fight down every temptation he had to just lie down until that hand pinned him to the floor and ravaged him senseless.
The humiliation helped.
And the skimming of fingertips on the back of his neck.
Even if the hot barista was insanely hot, he was still a stranger. Buck tensed as he rolled out from his touch and tried not to shiver from the heat of those fingertips.
Hot Barista was unfairly hot close up. Were those swirls of green in the coffee brown color of his eyes? With a kissable freckle dotted beneath one eye, Buck couldn’t help but get lost in that worried gaze as Hot Barista scanned his body for injuries.
“Buck!” Isabel cried over the counter before she threw her hands out at Hot Barista. “Eddito! Help him up.”
“Are you okay?” Eddito— Eddie, according to his name tag, asked with a critical eye. Propping fingers reached up for Buck’s scalp and Buck pointedly did not melt beneath his touch. “You didn’t hit your head?”
“Just my pride.” Buck quipped even though every inch of him was going to be sore. “I’m okay. Hi Isabel!”
But then Buck spied a glimpse of a bruise, yellowing and almost healed under the curl of Eddie’s jaw that he wouldn’t have seen without his vantage point on the floor.
“Are you okay?” He shot back before he could stop himself. Eddie frowned, confusion puckering his lips with an adorable head tilt. Buck waved his hand up to his own jaw. “That’s a nice bruise.”
Eddie’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he schooled his features back into something pleasant; neutral.
Huh.
“Just roughhousing with my kid.” Unless Eddie’s kid was wielding a hammer, Buck was pretty sure there were no games that would have resulted in a sucker punch like that.
But not his business.
Buck pushed himself up into a standing position with Eddie mirroring his movements in an almost synchronized tandem. It was magnetic in a way. Now that he’d been forced to stare into those eyes, Buck didn’t think he wanted to look away.
“Buck!” Isabel’s warm hands were soft as she grabbed onto his elbow and Buck forced himself not to tense like he had the first time she’d reached out. Boundaries had never met Isabel Diaz but Buck didn’t think he really minded when it came to her. Her touch was soft yet strong from a woman who had gotten used to working with her hands. “Oh Buck! Are you alright?”
Buck’s blush returned with a vengeance from her fussing and he ducked his head under the weight of it.
“I’m okay. Promise. Just a walking disaster is all.”
Isabel tsked as she brushed some dirt from his shirt.
“You want your usual? Black coffee with two sugars and three scones?”
“Depends,” Buck said, slipping on a teasing grin. “What kind today?”
Isabel called his bluff with a flick of her towel. “Ham and cheddar and I just finished a fresh batch of those chocolate cranberry you like so much.”
“Better make it four then.” He’d save the other one for when he planned on locking himself in his loft to heal his bruised ego.
“Ah! Good! You’re getting skinny!” Isabel poked him in the side before she turned to Eddie with a wave. “Eddito, get Buck his scones, mi amor.”
“Yes Abuela.”
Isabel watched Eddie leave with a raised brow before she leaned in with a conspiratorial twist to her smile. “My grandson. Eddie. He’s studying to be a doctor. He’s single.”
Buck choked out a laugh before he could help it. “I don’t think me falling on my face is the greatest first impression.”
Isabel clicked her tongue to her teeth with a wave of her hand. “Even angels have to fall sometimes.”
Isabel was a tiny thing of a woman but that managed to rock Buck back onto his heels as a different kind of warmth pooled into his cheeks. Isabel winked at him as she tapped his chin.
“Coffee’s on the house.”
“Oh no—”
Abuela tutted again with a fling of her hand. “For the fall. You’re still paying for the scones. Watch your step, mi ángel.”
Abuela swatted at Eddie as he stumbled out with a bag of the scones in his hand. Eddie gave his grandmother a suspicious squint as she muttered something in Spanish Buck was too far away to hear before she disappeared back into the kitchen.
“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked when they met at the counter and for once Buck believed the worry that was coloring his tone. Most people didn’t care after the first time but society demanded a second inquiry for prosperity. But with Eddie it was like he meant it. Like he would throw Buck over his shoulder and carry him to the ER if Buck thought he needed it.
Buck wouldn’t mind being thrown over those shoulders to be honest but he didn’t need an ER.
“I’m good. Promise. Just a clutz.”
“Abuela didn’t mention that part when she talked about you,” Eddie said as he typed in a number into the ancient cash register Buck had been begging Isabel to get replaced. The damn thing wasn’t even bolted down to the counter.
“You talked about me?”
“I— Uh…” Color bloomed up into Eddie’s cheeks as he stared wide eyed at the register, gaping before he cleared his throat. “She mentioned you fixing the kitchen door.”
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder in case Buck forgot where said squeaky kitchen door was only to realize what he was doing and dropped his hand onto the counter with an embarrassed huff of a laugh.
“I mean… I—”
“It’s okay,” Buck said with an easy wave. “She also made a point to tell me you’re single.”
Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
“Sorry.”
His long suffering embarrassment was cute in a way.
“Ah man,” Buck teased. “You mean you aren’t single?”
And what the hell was he doing?
Eddie stopped and stared at him, an indecipherable expression fluttering across his face. It wasn’t quite suspicion and it wasn’t quite regret but it was just on the wrong side of rejection that Buck felt the sting deep beneath his skin.
“I… Yeah, I am but I’m not really what you’re looking for. I’ve got a son.” Eddie shrugged for nonchalance even though he curled his fingers inward to his palm and pressed his knuckles onto the countertop.
“I love kids,” Buck said, matching his shrug. “Is your kid really why you don’t date?”
The fact that someone as gorgeous and as sweet as Buck was starting to realize Eddie was, was unattached was mind boggling but then again Buck wasn’t exactly the expert on healthy love. Just because he fell hard and fast didn’t mean that everyone else with half of a case of self preservation did.
“It’s part of it amongst other things. Most people don’t want to date someone with baggage.”
“Kids aren’t baggage.” Buck didn’t mean to snap but apparently even after all his years away from Pennsylvania, the hot wounds left by his parents were still raw.
Kids weren’t baggage. They just wanted love. Buck didn’t think that was too much to ask. But Buck needed to cut his losses while he was ahead. First, he fell on his face and then he yelled at the guy. Buck started to open his mouth to apologize, to take his rejection with some grace and go, but Eddie’s lips quirked upward into his cheeks like he was trying to fight a smile that Buck wanted to see every inch of.
“You’re right,” Eddie said and Buck couldn’t help but think he’d just passed a test he didn’t know he’d been taking. “Okay. Coffee? I close up Thursday. Meet me here? If it goes well we can go for a drink.”
Buck’s brain stalled for half a second before he started nodding like an idiot.
“Yeah okay.”
He had a date.