#Eddie donated his eggs

[mugloversonly]

Christmas Day

Written for: @steddiemas prompt: TOYS, SURPRISE @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: HOT CHOCOLATE, STOCKING, CHRISTMAS WC: 429 Rating: G CW: NA Summary: Amelia opens her gifts, Eddie gets a big surprise AO3

Steve hands Eddie a mug of hot chocolate as he sits next to his husband. Amelia was surrounded by toys, opening box after box. She may be a little spoiled; to be fair, they told all their friends she never had Christmas before finding out why so everyone went a little over board.

But that was okay, Steve and Eddie saved their gifts for the eight days of Hanukkah. By the time she got through her gifts, it was lunch time, Eddie made her favorite, Mac and Cheese with bread crumbs sprinkled on top. They had a full holiday dinner planned over at the Hoppers’ so they didn’t want to get too complicated with it. After that, it was Amelia’s nap time and time for the men to exchange gifts.

They exchanged stockings, not bothering to take turns. Steve tipped his over and found a handful of candies, trinkets, and a new watch. He opened the box and gasped in shock.

“Eds! You found it?” He exclaimed. When they went shopping last month the shop had been out of this one. Eddie must have found the time to go back to get it. He looked over, confused by Eddie’s lack of answer. He understood when the shine of tears dripped down his face. He held a framed copy of an ultrasound.

“Stevie? What is this?” He asked softly.

“Chrissy said it worked.” Eddie gasped as he looked at his husband. “Turn it over.” Steve smiled. Eddie shakily flipped the frame to see a second ultrasound on the other side.

“Twins?” Eddie asked softly.

“Close. One from Robin and one from Chrissy.” Steve smiled. It was the perfect outcome. They’d have two new babies.

“Oh, holy shit!” Eddie cried out and jumped onto Steve’s lap. Steve thankfully anticipated the move and was ready to hold his husband. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” Eddie exclaimed.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” Steve laughed. Eddie pulled back and kissed him fiercely.

“Consider me surprised! This is the best Christmas ever!” Eddie said. But then he froze. “But what about Amelia?”

“What about her?” Steve asked.

“I don’t want her to feel like we love her any less, since there will be two babies in the house. That are biologically ours. Like...she’s our real daughter, I just don’t want her to be sad.” Eddie began to fret. The little crease between his eyes was getting deeper and deeper.

“She won’t be. And if she is, we’ll make sure she knows we don’t love her any less.” Steve said.

“Promise?” Eddie asked.

“Promise.”

tags

@katyawriteswhump

buy me a coffee

[miss-bushido]

make the world safe and sound for you

written for @softsteddieseptember week 3, prompt ‘anniversary’

Rating: G

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Steve pressed his face to the pillow and groaned. “No, my head hurts. Come back later.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s temple, smoothing back some flyaway strands. “How late were you up?”

Steve groaned, tapping his fingers on the bed as he counted in his head. “Last time I saw the clock it said 4:30 AM.” He had been pulling all-nighters while working to get his Master’s degree. He was only a few months away from being finished with the program, and he just wanted to see the back of it.

Eddie winced. It was 7:30 AM. Normally, Steve would be up by 6 AM, ensuring he would see first thing the text messages or emails from his boss asking him to sub for one of the teachers at a local school. Eddie grabbed Steve’s phone and winced again. There were three missed calls from his boss, and a flurry of text messages.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Eddie announced, sitting on the bed behind Steve. “I’m telling your boss that you’re sick and that you won’t be able to sub anywhere today.”

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, I can-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re talking out of your ass. You need to rest. You can’t expect to be effective with less than 3 hours of sleep.” Eddie put his fingertip to Steve’s plush lips to silence any further protests. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re sick, and that you should be more than fine come Monday morning. When was the last time you took a Friday off?”

Steve blinked, his eyes heavy and scratchy from lack of sleep. “Almost two years ago.”

“Exactly. So. Since you’re not going to work today, go back to sleep. I don’t want to see you downstairs before 9:30 AM, clear?”

In spite of how exhausted he was, Steve felt his stomach flutter at the tone Eddie used. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie smirked, unable to resist giving him a kiss. “Let’s save that for tonight, okay?”

“Daddy?” came a small, sleepy voice from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open to reveal their toddler daughter Rosie standing there, clutching her stuffed duck. “We’re thirsty,” she said, her voice low and rough in her throat. Her twin brother, Theo, was with her as he always was, clutching her purple sleep shirt with his left hand, his right thumb in his mouth.

Eddie’s heart swelled to look at them. He and Steve had thought long and hard about children after their marriage, and though they were fine with adoption, they wanted to try and have biological children of their own. Obviously, neither of them could get pregnant (not for lack of trying), so they spoke to the women in their lives; Nancy, Robin, Chrissy, Vickie, to see if any of them would be willing to either donate one of their eggs or become a surrogate, or both.

In the end, Chrissy said she would do both for them: donate her eggs, and be a surrogate. It was almost immediate that she became pregnant with the twins. When they were born, Eddie cried harder than he ever had in his life at seeing their chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He couldn’t believe it was three years ago that their little family was completed.

“You’re thirsty?” Eddie asked, holding his arms out for both of them to come in. Theo broke into a big toothy grin and ran over to jump on Eddie, his light brown hair bouncing . Both Steve and Eddie loved their children equally, and they knew the twins loved them the same as well. But Theo seemed to have an affinity for Eddie: following him around and looking very interested when he practiced his guitar. He even accompanied Eddie to some band rehearsals, but never to one of their shows. Maybe when he was older. He listened with rapt attention as Eddie read to them: The Hobbit, the Redwall books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the paintings he did, while rudimentary, were clearly influenced by the stories.

Rosie could frequently be found snuggling with Steve: she liked putting barrettes in his hair, painting his nails and putting lipstick on him. Whenever they had a tea party, she put a silver tiara on him and a pair of ruby clip on earrings, telling him, "Papa looks so pretty."

How could Steve resist? How could either of them resist?

While her brother went to Eddie, she toddled over to the other side of the bed. She tossed her stuffed duck up and clambered up, crawling over to Steve. She looked the most like Eddie: she had his brown doe eyes and the waves of her hair were like his, though she took after Chrissy in terms of her strawberry blonde hair color, and the way she smiled. “Papa?” she asked, looking down at Steve. “No work today?”

Steve looked up sleepily at his daughter, unable to stop the big smile spreading across his face. “Not today, baby. Papa stayed up too late doing school work.”

“That’s silly,” she said, collapsing dramatically against the pillows. Steve had seen Eddie do that exact same thing more than a few times, and it always made him laugh.

“Papa is silly, Duck,” he admitted, quickly reaching forward and pulling her close, blowing raspberries on her neck, her shrieking giggles filling the air. He still had a headache, and her shrieks of glee were not helping, but he could bear it.

“I keep telling him that,” Eddie said as he sat back down, Theo leaning against him. Theo had Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, but they were turning more towards green the older he got. His hair was dark brown and straight, and though he was quieter than his sister, the smile he had was pure Eddie. Both of them worried they would have a little hell-raiser on their hands as he got older and got more confidence.

“‘M still thirsty, Daddy,” Theo murmured against Eddie’s chest. He looked up at Eddie with his big eyes. “Choccy milk?”

“For breakfast?” Eddie replied in mock shock and awe. Theo immediately started giggling, tilting his head back as he watched Eddie perform. “There will be chaos if we move choccy milk time to morning instead of dinner.”

“Pleeeeease?” Theo pleaded. “Please Daddy?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeease?” Rosie shouted, jumping up from laying next to Steve, all but throwing herself on Eddie’s back.

“Oh! Attacked on both sides! The treachery! The betrayaaaal!” Eddie kept his left arm firmly wrapped around Theo before he hooked his right arm back to wrap around Rosie. He stood up, both of them in his arms. “Steve! Don’t just lay in bed! Save meeeee!” He yelled this while moving quickly out of the bedroom, giving Steve a knowing glance as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

Steve laughed at the display of his little family, though he was grateful that Eddie managed to get them out of the room and leave him in peace. He didn’t see his phone on the bed, so Eddie must have taken it with him. Which was good, as it meant he could fall back to sleep like Eddie wanted him to.

A few hours later, Steve woke up, feeling the warmth of a small body against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Theo snuggled up against him, snoring lightly. Behind him, Rosie and Eddie were also asleep. Both had their mouths open slightly, right arms above their heads as they slept.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, feeling happy tears well in his eyes.

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Part 1

“—But maybe someday when my ship comes iiiin~ She’ll understand what kinda guy I’ve been, an then I’ll win”

“Chrriiiisss!!” Eddie whined as he tossed himself onto his front, burrowing his head under the pillow

“And when she’s waaalkin, she’s loookin, so FI-I-IIIINE!!”

“CHRIS!!” It was no use, she couldn’t hear him. Too busy belting out Billy Joel in their little kitchenette at… he shoved his pillow aside, realising it was a fruitless endeavour to try and block out the dying cat that was his roommate.

They’d gotten in at just gone two in the morning after blowing the very last of their ‘rainy day’ fund on ten for two dollar shots at a local student haunt, and now it was… ten in the morning, they didn’t have jobs left to get ready for, he still hadn't been able to find his wallet anywhere.

And Chrissy was. Singing.

As if they didn’t have to start job hunting again or risk the fury that was their greasy landlord and his mission to extort them of all their hard earned money. They’d be out on their asses by months end if they didn’t find something soon and the band wasn’t raking in as much cash as he’d have liked for it to be raking in.

Last he heard some big shot was looking to buy the Hideout too, probably shut them down for good. That’d be just their luck.

“An when she’s TAAALKIN she’ll say that she’s MI-I-IIINEE!” He threw his covers off, accepting defeat. At least it smelled like eggs and bacon, so she was clearly cooking the last of their breakfast foods.

Chrissy was of course in her sleep shirt, legs bare, with naught but slipper socks to keep her toes cosy on the tile floors of their kitchenette, swaying to the vinyl player belting out Billy Joel by the open window. Many a man’s fantasy come true, Chrissy was a vision while lost in her favourite music, but to him, Eddie Munson resident flaming homosexual, okay she was still beautiful he had eyes, but those leggy legs and swaying hips didn’t do it for him, thanks. “CHRISS!!”

And she jumped, barely managing to save the bacon from winding up as a sacrifice to the dastardly floor gods. Whipping around to face him, she graced him with the signature Chrissy ‘sunshine smile’ which… didn’t track for the killer hangover she ought to have had given she had three rounds of those shots all in that tiny-ass body of hers.

“Eddieee!!”

“Chrisssyyyy, what’cha doin, Chriss?”

“Breakfast! And Billy Joel!”

“I see that, at… ten in the morning, after student night!” They weren’t students, Chriss could pass for one though “Whaaat’s going on?”

“Letter! The letter, on the top there, read it!” And she was turning her back again hips swaying, moving the foods over to two plates, the only two they currently had clean, oof, it was his turn on dishes, damn what he wouldn’t give for a dishwasher.

Curiosity piqued, he crossed the short distance (it wasn’t a large apartment) and plucked up the neatly tri-folded piece of paper, letterheaded with a real fancy SH logo, a business address and corporate phone number, the letter reading,

“Dear Tenant” he didn’t do inner voices, he had to read it out loud “This is to inform you that as of the week commencing June 12th the building will be under… under new… new ownership?!” He looked up, eyes wide with alarm.

“Keep reading!!” She prompted as if predicting his alarm, she wasn’t even looking at him, clearly jazzed about something, new ownership? The building had been sold from under them and she was happy? He looked back at the paper.

“At this time, we will be… suspending… suspending?” She nodded, turning with two plates in her hand to their tiny little table that Wayne had donated when they moved in “suspending your required rent payments as we… look toward renovating the building and all apartments within.”

“Keep reading, there’s more!” He sat down at his usual chair, paper held in both hands, eyes fixed to the print as he read.

“Any rent arrears accrued in the duration of the building renovations will be… hold up—”

“Yep.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, not joking, it’s official I called them this morning, took me ages to get through to someone but it’s legit, Eddie.”

“But—but shit like this—this doesn’t happen Chriss, and you know what the Police said that one time you got scammed, right? If it seems too good—” he was still looking at that word, that one little word that made all the difference.

“Then it’s probably too good to be true! I know, I know, but I got the confirmation from their office, I GOOGLED the number too, I didn’t just call the one on the letter cause I know scams can get’cha that way.” Although what kind of scam it could be was baffling as it wasn’t asking for money it was saying they wouldn’t be asking for money for a while “sobered my ass right up let me tell you, best hangover cure in the world, and Mrs Jablonski next door got one too! And Dottie across the hall, I’m pretty sure I heard upstairs yelling earlier, an I mean like happy yelling, not yelling yelling like usual. Cheering! I think it’s legit, Eddie…”

“So… we just… we don’t have to pay rent, at all… for however the fuck long these renovations take to happen? Do we have an expected completion date to these renovations? Or start date?”

“Nope, just a from week commencing, the lady on the phone had no idea about them but she got the confirmation from ‘upstairs’ and just said there’d be more information sent to us eventually and not to worry about it.”

“Not to worry—not to worry about it?” He wanted to worry about it, every fibre of his being demanded he worry about it. Not that they could even pay rent if it was asked for, they had no money and no jobs after he’d decked their line manager for calling Chrissy fat, she was not fat, and she’d only just stopped staring at herself in the mirror as if every inch of her was wrong. She’d passed the month mark since she‘d last forced herself to throw up. She was finally getting some plump back into her cheeks.

She was on the mend. She was recovering. And he’d just—Eddie had seen red. He just wished he’d have been wearing his rings at the time.

“You can call them if you want!” She spoke around a mouthful of sunny side up eggs. “I think whatever it was, was a really random decision high up, like… it wasn’t something decided upon by a board of directors or anything because she took a while to get confirmation about it, but—but I dunno Eddie, maybe… maybe things can be good for a while.” They wouldn’t have to panic about getting jobs.

Wouldn’t have to deal with grease trap Carl the guy who collected their rent every month who seemed to just… always be greasy. Hands, hair, face, clothes. Who’d look at Chrissy like she was a piece of meat, or make disgusting comments about how lucky Eddie was to live with her, while she was stood right there holding Eddie’s arm back stopping him from launching at the guy.

Wayne had offered to run the guy over one time “Would be a one an done, son, would catch him at just the right time as he left the place an be gone just as fast, wouldn’t even know I was there.” Like a grade A parent, with all the gold stars available at the local craft store. But Eddie could deal with Carl.

They wouldn’t have to anymore though. If this was legit, it meant Carl was gone. No more Carl.

“…Screw calling them, I think we should go down there and see what’s up.”

“M’kay, but eat your damn breakfast that’s the last of the maple bacon an you got the bigger piece.” If he immediately traded the bigger piece on his plate for the smaller one on hers, well… she only smiled over it, she liked the maple kind more than him anyway.

Or so he'd told her.

Part 3

[morganbritton132]

Do the boys do anything for Easter? I feel like Eddie would hide eggs with treats in it for Ozzy to hide.

Eddie had only been living with Wayne for a few months when their neighbor across the way came knocking on their door. She was a single mother with two unruly children and always tried to flirt with Wayne when he was leaving for work.

The way Wayne tells it, she’s organizing an Easter egg hunt for the kids in the trailer park. Ain’t no reason why they shouldn’t get to have the same experiences as better off kids just ‘cause the price of eggs went up a bit. If the Munsons can afford it, she’d appreciate if they donated.

Wayne’s seen Eddie’s notebooks – there are more drawings in them than school work – and thought he might get a kick out of decorating eggs. He even went out and bought a dye kit.  Eddie was a little too old for something like that, but he could see an olive branch when it was being extended.

Him and Wayne hadn’t yet found their footing with each other, but Wayne was making an effort. No one has ever done that before, so Eddie accepted with one exception, “You gotta paint them with me.”

They boil eggs on the stove and argue about how long you’re supposed to keep them on for. It turns out that Wayne is just as meticulous with his artwork as Eddie is because they spent hours painting and dip-dying eggs. Wayne even broke out an old paint set he had so they could use actual paintbrushes.

Eddie painted a dragon on one egg and an orc on another one. Wayne painted Tweety Bird on one egg and Garfield on another. They were a big hit at the egg hunt (even though Wayne insisted that Eddie participate and he wiped the floor with the other kids).

The extent of Easter in the Harrington house was: Get dressed, go to church, don’t embarrass anybody. That was it. They didn’t do a big dinner. There was no Easter Bunny visit. They never stayed long enough after church services to participate in the church’s easter egg hunt. When he got older, he’d go to Tommy’s, but they then they were too old for the fun Easter traditions.

When Steve taught second grade, he would buy candy and make Easter baskets for his students. He would organize an Easter egg hunt with the other second grade teachers with – much to Eddie’s supreme disappointment – plastic eggs. He was more disappointed to learn that middle schoolers don’t have parties.

So the first Easter after Steve got Ozzy, Eddie was celebrating Easter the right way.

The whole holiday is still kind of lost on Steve, but he’s entertained Eddie enough to just go along with it when he’s this excited about something.

The first year, they learn very quickly that you should not let your dog eat a lot of boiled eggs (also Eddie forgot when he put all of them and Steve nearly killed him). Every year after, Eddie has gotten more and more elaborate and Ozzy gets more and more excited. Steve has woken up to this dog prancing in place with excitement, waiting for them to get up to see what the ‘Easter Bunny’ left him.

A couple years ago, they started putting treats and snacks in plastic eggs and hiding them around the house for Ozzy to find. And then when they got Joan, they started including catnip and toy mice in some of the eggs.

Steve and Eddie continue their tradition of buying each other the most fucked up chocolate bunnies they can find.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Gotcha for Gaza Prompt: Slow Broil

Another prompt completed for @911actions - there is still time to donate more!

Summary:

Five times Bobby helped Eddie cook a meal for Buck over the course of their relationship, plus one time Eddie did it all by himself.

Snippet:

“It’s very nice that you’re doing this,” Bobby says, as the two of them are scooping the peppers hollow. 

“Yeah, well,” Eddie shrugs. “He deserves some effort, you know?”

“Yeah,” Bobby nods. “Everyone does.”

“Right,” Eddie nods. “And, you know, he’s been feeling down, like maybe he doesn’t, so…”

“He has?” Bobby asks. 

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, and not that it’s any of my business - because god knows I don’t have any sort of good track record in this department - but I think that’s someone’s fault in particular.”

Bobby’s head spins a little with not only how much Eddie is saying, but what he is saying. 

“I thought things were good with Buck and Tommy?” Bobby asks, quietly and nosily. Should he be prying? No. Is he curious as hell? Yes. 

Eddie makes a low, scoffing noise in the back of his throat. 

“For the guy who started our friendship with helicopter rides of Vegas, he seems hard pressed to make time for a nice date with Buck now that they’re a few months in. Really, how hard is it to have a good time with Buck? Like, oh poor, put-out Tommy.”

Bobby raises an eyebrow. 

“Eddie, are we stuffing peppers or poaching eggs?”

---

Tagging:

@epicbuddieficrecs @theotherbuckley @sevenweeksofunrepression @slowlyfoggydestiny @buckleybabyblues

@diazsdimples @exhuastedpigeon @aquamarineglitter @loserdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings

@your-catfish-friend @incorrect9-1-1 @hawaiianlove808 @babytrapperdiaz @watchyourbuck

@lyricfulloflight @tizniz @aroeddiediaz @estheticpotaeto

@buddieswhvre @l0v3t0hat3y0u @mage8

[extasiswings]

Please if you think this is in some way negative ignore it, but I want to ask your opinion about something. I still think this issue’ ll be resolved in 6b, but don’t you think that one of the reasons why people’re not really vibing with the donor sl it’s because it was treated like something funny? I get don’t make buck talk with eddie, Bobby and Maddie, but maybe if it was treated in a more serious way ( for ex ep 7) maybe people would ve get it more?

No, I don’t. Both because the show has been telegraphing from the start of this arc, sometimes with a humorous backdrop but not always, that this is something Buck has not thought through, is doing for the wrong reasons, and that is going to hurt him so I don’t see how it can fairly be said that it isn’t being taken seriously, and also because that simply isn’t a complaint that I think I’ve seen? The main complaints I’ve seen are that the entire concept is bad or weird, or that it’s bad writing because Buck and Eddie haven’t talked about it yet or because XYZ wasn’t shown or the arc didn’t happen a certain way (and frankly it’s pretty clear to me that a lot of people are flat out just extremely uncomfortable with the idea of Buck having a biological child that is not actually his and channel that discomfort into loudly hating the arc). Critiques of the pacing I understand, as I’ve said before, but I’ve come around to reserving my own judgment fully until we’ve seen the whole season play out.

The other thing I want to push back on re: whether the arc is appropriately “serious” is…what part exactly should be treated more seriously? The “serious” piece, the angsty, emotional piece is Buck’s “donor, not dad” issue, which is only a problem because Buck is Buck with his own little storage unit of trauma and self-worth issues. That piece is, understandably, not kicking in until 6B because Buck’s been lying to himself about the reality of this situation. But if you take that piece away, there wouldn’t have to be anything super serious about it? There are plenty of people every day who donate sperm or eggs to help other people have kids, sometimes because they’re friends, sometimes because they’re getting paid, sometimes because they just want to for whatever reason. And they do it without it feeling like a big deal, even if it may feel like one for the people who benefit from that donation. And if it’s something between existing friends there’s no reason why it couldn’t also be humorous. Basically what I’m saying is that while this is likely going to ultimately be a serious and emotional arc for Buck because of who he is, and while we’re clearly getting there, there’s nothing inherent in being a sperm donor that means they should have made this a heavy, serious arc from the start. If it weren’t for the fact that Buck is clearly lying to himself and using the humor as an avoidance tactic, the fact that he’s spent half the arc cracking jokes about jerking off wouldn’t faze me one bit because there are plenty of people for whom that kind of attitude is a genuine reflection of how much they care about their part in this process (which is not at all).

[himbobuck]

I'm watching Sort Your Life Out (an organizing show) and now I can't stop thinking of Buck and Eddie officially moving in the home they bought together and there are a lot of boxes to go through and decisions to be made because there is not enough space for everything and the angst that would cause. It's easy to get rid of the doubles, they keep Eddie's couch (because it's history) and go for the best quality kitchen equipment (mostly Buck's as he had invested in better stuff since learning to cook from Bobby). Getting rid of the more generic items that come from the loft seems fairly easy and they're making progress. But the mood changes as they make progress. Buck having a lot of crates from storage that he had shipped over from Pennsylvania when he knew he was going to be staying in LA but he never bothered bringing them into the loft because that wasn't the place he was going to settle in (and for the lack of space). And as they're going through stuff and Eddie suggests what to keep and what to donate/sell, maybe holds two items at a time one in each hand, Buck is getting more and more upset and can't let go of the most random things. Like he will be getting tearful over a keychain that came out of a easter egg from the last easter they spent with their grandparents or over the little piggy bank that's peeling apart that he got as a party favour at his bff birthday when he was a kid or over a box of dinosaurs plasters that are yellowish and probably don't stick anymore because his dad bought them for him when he was covered in scraps and bruises from getting hurt again over the set of completely new still boxed up moon/sun mugs he bought when he was 16 thinking one day he was going to drink coffee from with the love of his life sitting at the kitchen table on a sunday morning. And he knows that they have already agreed to keep enough mugs and then these are fully packaged and would be much easier to sell even, but he just can't let go of them. Lots of tears and cuddles ensue (and he wakes up in the morning to the smell of coffee..)

more thoughts? A study published in Pyschotraumatol explains that, since humans are a social species, a history of interpersonal trauma or loneliness can push us to overcompensate, sometimes by buying and forming relationships with possessions instead. This stems from being unable to trust people and instead putting faith in objects, Yap explains. (x)

I know technically Buck had Maddie growing up but that doesn't mean this is not something that could happen (and potentially I'd say maybe Maddie did it too, or went the completely opposite way of getting rid of everything except the most sentimentally valuable things - she did only have two suitcases when she ran away from Doug). I can see Buck using things as a mean of comfort, both random little things he had (not carefully chosen important things from his childhood that his parents didn't bother keeping for a baby box - assholes!!) but also things he accumulated for an imaginary/ideal future the used to dream about - the mugs, but also maybe a picture frame he could see himself displaying in the living room etc etc

feel free to gimme all your thoughts, do your worst cause i wanna cry

[fyrewalks]

"Uh huh," Buck says, grinning like this is some elaborate joke and not some cheesy exchange over eggs of all things. "Blame the eggs. It's like - like the whole 'those who can't do, teach' thing." Actually, Buck isn't sure it's relevant comparison, or if he's gotten the phrase right, but he says it anyway.

And, ultimately, it's forgotten as Eddie slides over the plate. Buck manages to remember his manners, giving a quick thanks before digging in. "Y'know," he says around a mouth full of his food because his manners only extend so far. "What you lack in presentation, you certainly make up for with flavor. Pretty sure Bobby's gonna put on breakfast rotation."

If Bobby doesn't, well, that has more to do with how possessive he can sometimes get over the firehouse kitchen. He might encourage them all to expand their culinary skills, but he's just as happy to chase them out of the kitchen if they mess up one of the fancy pans he donated.

"omelets are hard!" no matter how many times he tries, they always end up falling apart the second he tries to fold it. he's aware that part of it is probably impatience--he always wants to flip it too early, and that's when things go wrong. "it's the eggs' fault." it's definitely not the eggs' fault. "but they don't have a psychology for us to reverse so we can't do anything about that. tricking my brain isn't going to change anything here."

he finishes scrambling the eggs and transfers them to two plates, setting one in front of buck with a flourish. "for you, sir." he takes his own plate and drops into the seat opposite buck with a smile.

[matan4il]

I watched this episode I think so differently then others. Firstly maybe because I don't have a strong dislike to Buck doing it, I found it rather touching to be honest.. But here's the weird thing to me.

Connor and Eddie are opposite sides of the same coin.. Eddie wants him to be the father of his non biological child because of who he is as a person. Completely involved full stop.

Connor wants him to be the biological father to his child because of who he is. But obviously not involved

But the wacky part to me if this is playing out. Retcon!!!! Retcon at the end of S4 we know Eddie changed his will in S3 after the well. Retcon we know Buck met Connor (in the past) in Buck Begins but that was in S4. So I'm not trying to nerd out here but honest to God how much of this was planned and how will it play out as it intertwines. Especially because Eddie doesn't know yet and he's protective of Buck. But we haven't got to really see that in full display yet.

It cant mean nothing to me this storyline has been in play for awhile and we didn't grasp the importance yet. The same as Athena with her childhood best friend you know. It started out as a oh this is Athena, to oh this is a fully fledged Athena story.

Hi lovely Nonnie!

Thank you for sharing your viewing experience! ^u^ I get what you mean. As an idea, it is a lovely thing. I say this as someone who’s considered in the past being an egg donor, I mean it, I think it’s beautiful to help others like that. But at the end of the day, I also think it depends on someone’s specific type of personality, what place in life they’re at, in other words, how this donation would affect them as well and not just the recipients. Like I said in the 604 meta, I just don’t think that’s something Buck has really considered properly.

I LOVE the way you phrased the contradiction between what Connor and Eddie want. In my mind, there’s no doubt the latter is so much more significant to Buck in terms of helping him heal from his trauma of being unwanted for so long. I also think there’s a difference between what does “because of who [Buck] is” between these two men. Connor knows who Buck was. Even back then, he only knew Buck to a very shallow degree. God, in 405, when Buck started spouting random trivia, Connor couldn’t be more disinterested. If Eddie had been there? You just KNOW he would be listening to Buck with the worst case of heart eyes and the fondest smile ever. Connor does know Buck’s a good person, and he’s right of course. But Buck wears his heart so openly on his sleeve, that’s something that probably anyone who would spend just 5 minutes with him would know. I expected Connor to list more stuff (“You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re brave” Buck presumably still lived with Connor and that gang in s1, before he moved into Abby’s place, so all of this can reasonably come up), but nope, it was just the one thing. Eddie KNOWS Buck and WANTS him for ALL OF IT.

IDK if they planned this out and were gonna re-use the actor from the get go. It is possible they came up with the idea of a friend asking for a sperm donation, then looked into whether the actor for the one character who could be brought back as a “blast from the past” was available and, since he’s not that big of a star yet, they got lucky and could book him. I’m not discounting it! But once they decided to bring him in, whether it was always intended or not, they did make some meaningful choices with him already IMO. ;)

I hope you have a great day, lovely! And here is my ask tag! xoxox

[d9i1a1z]

Buck finds out he is infertile because of the meds/procedures his parents had him do to save Daniel. He did mention their return to the show. Eventually after canon Buddie and all that, Maddie donates an egg, Eddie donates his sperm and BAM Buckley-Diaz baby and they live happily ever after. The end 😊

[piratefishmama]

Prompt being this post about daycare worker Eddie and Single Parent Steve right here

Eddie was a professional. He couldn’t flirt with the kids parents, especially since he didn’t actually know which ones would be interested in him. Single fathers were always kind of… 50/50 in terms of whether or not they’d be into another guy, so Eddie was pretty comfortable not flirting with parents.

Until Steve Harrington.

Little Ellie, or Nora, or Eleanor depending on the brand of shenanigan that she’d gotten up to during the day, had been going to Tiny Terrors Day-Care for a little over four months now after the parent and child had moved into town a week before she’d joined them. Eddie had met Steve twice. Once, where Ellie had spectacularly ran head first into a door pretending to be a T-Rex, and the second time, was when Robbie, a little shit, pulled her pretty pig tails out and ran off with her hair ties.

They had little green T-Rex charms on them, Eddie had never seen such a thing before, it turned out they were custom made by one of her uncles. Priceless treasures basically.

She hadn’t done anything to Robbie, no. Robbie was four and just acting out. The five-year-old knew better than to hurt Robbie, no. After she’d gotten her hair ties back, she, with an impressive amount of force, booted one of the helpers directly in the shin, when said helper suggested Robbie must have just had a crush on her.

Physical violence had been paired with her furious little voice demanding they never tell girls that boys hurting them means they have a crush, cause her daddy said that’s the dumbest thing ever. Boys shouldn’t hurt girls!! And nobody should be excusing boys hurting girls!!

It was a pretty spectacular verbal beat down for a five-year-old to be giving a grown adult, Eddie didn’t actually have anything bad to say to her about it either. He just had to tell Steve that she’d injured one of the staff, because… protocol.

Steve had given her a high five and promised her ice cream when he’d found out why. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him.

It was fine. Totally fine, he’d only seen him twice and he’d managed to contain his urge to flirt even with Steve looking at him in a way that could definitely be construed as interest. He didn’t want to assume, assumptions could lead to chaos and chaos didn’t belong in the lives of toddlers.

So, he was pretty sure that he’d be fine for the easter hunt.

Steve had RSVP’d that he would be attending with Ellie when the little newsletter went out about it, since wherever he worked was closed for the holiday, Eddie had… understandably freaked out a little, but he’d done it in the office.

Away from the staff. Away from the kids. He’d be fine to witness Steve being a great dad for the day. Totally fine. He’d had his little freak out, he was fine to spend the morning of their little hunt hiding eggs with the staff, definitely not feeling his nerves skyrocketing at the idea of Steve helping little Ellie find them later.

They weren’t real eggs, oh no, definitely not real eggs. They were hiding little colourful plastic eggs, each colour holding a value, so the more plastic eggs you found, the bigger your easter haul could be! It wasn’t just eggs either, they had cakes, cool prizes, sweets, and other things donated to the day care for the kids by members of the community, someone had donated a bike for crying out loud. It was silver and gold and had removable stabilizers, totally gender neutral so any kid could enjoy it without it being too girly or too boyish.

They’d hidden a golden egg for the bike. It was extra hard to find.

Eddie had hidden it personally under the roots of an old tree stump just beyond the tree line, in a little hollow half hidden by moss and foliage. The other eggs just hidden around the park. The only reason he’d hidden it beyond the treeline, was because the parents would be looking with the kids. No child would be going beyond that tree line without their parents present.

So, with all the eggs hidden, some a little more obvious than others, Eddie and the rest of the staff waited for their attendees, who slowly began trickling in sometime around noon. The hunt was supposed to start at one, and Eddie was definitely not craning his head side to side, searching through the rapidly growing crowd of parents and children for that specific dynamic duo, he absolutely wasn—

“Eddie!!” Eddie’s eyes snapped to the left just in time to catch his favourite, even if he wasn’t supposed to pick favourites, tiny terror, Ellie, just before she’d have bulldozed into his legs. He hoisted her up and into his arms with a pleased little,

“Elliesaurus Rex!!”

“Quick, tell daddy that the shirt looks fine!” Eddie found himself focusing beyond her at the request, finding his smile growing wider at the dressed down Steve Harrington, wearing an incredibly stupid Hawaiian shirt that didn’t even remotely look like it belonged to him, and a pair of quarter length jeans rolled a little further up his calves and sandals fuck.

The shirt was baggy enough to hide what would no doubt be an absolutely spectacular rear fitted snugly into those jeans though, sadly enough.

“The shirt looks fine.” He parroted with a mischievous grin, a grin that widened as Steve rubbed at the back of his neck bashfully.

“It’s laundry day, the only clean shirt I had was something my old man ‘passed down’ to me, I… don’t usually wear this sort of thing.” There was a story there, Eddie wanted to hear it. Maybe some other time though.

“You look good in it! It suits you” honestly a garbage bag would suit Steve Harrington, it wasn’t fair how pretty that man was.

“It does not” Steve laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in such a way that Eddie had to internally remind himself that he should not flirt with the parents of the kids. Definitely don’t do that. “You though—you uh… I like the uhm… the apron.” Eddie’s eyes widened a fraction, before he looked down at himself, sure enough, he’d left his apron on. The one still covered in dried paint hand prints and dirt. “The dirt looks good on your knees too.” Aaand the dirt on his knees from where he’d been kneeling down in the grass.

“Haaa-hah, we can’t all look like we just stepped off a run way in Hawaiian chic, Mr. Harrington” Eddie definitely didn’t think he was imagining the soft rosy hue to those perfect cheekbones but—maybe it was just the heat. God he was beautiful. “Okay! Okay it’s uhm. It’s almost one, so—So we should probably get everyone gathered together, would you like to take your minion back?” He offered Ellie back to her dad, who let out a soft chuckle at his daughters whine of disappointment, before plucking her from Eddie’s hands.

“But—But I wanna stay with Eddie” was the immediate complaint, which frankly melted Eddie’s already gooey heart even further.

“I know sweetheart, but Eddie’s gotta do Eddie things, yeah? We can hang out with Eddie after we find you some eggs, okay?” Eddie raised a single brow at the assumption, but Steve just offered an apologetic grin, sneaky sneaky, Mr. Harrington.

Especially sneaky since Ellie perked right up, chirping, “Okay!!” placated by the promise of Eddie time later making it impossible for Eddie to say no. Eddie couldn’t even be mad, he wanted Steve time too. Maybe not around some thirty kids and their parents, but… he wanted Steve time too.

“Alrighty” he didn’t refuse Eddie time, Ellie and Steve could have all the Eddie time. “Everyone, could I have your attention please!!” All eyes on him, he stepped to the front of the group “Behold my glorious little adventurers! Behind me is a park FILLED with possibilities. There are one hundred and fifty colourful plastic eggs hidden within this park, the more eggs you find, the bigger your Easter haul will be! Not only that, but somewhere, in this glorious wonderland of opportunity, is a SINGLE golden egg. The finder of such a treasure, will go home with the grand prize of the day, a brand-new bicycle, donated by one of the incredibly generous members of our community.” The excitement in the crowd only seemed to grow, be it for the chocolate, or the bike, Eddie didn’t know, he was just happy everyone was excited.

“To keep things fair, we’ll have staff members monitoring the hunt to ensure nobody steals any eggs from anyone. If you can’t hold any more eggs, you’re welcome to come and ‘bank’ them with the staff over here by the main gates, you’ll get a little slip with a number on it for how many eggs you’ve banked! Now. Are we all ready?” Ohhh they were ready “Aaaare we set?” They were set!! “Aaaand, GO!!”

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos descended upon that park in an instant. Kids diving into bushes, Parents climbing up trees, Eddie had hid at least three eggs on that jungle gym, but nobody had even checked there yet, too busy looking in bushes and—

“Get it, munchkin!!” Steve Harrington, with a little terrible terror on his shoulders, Ellie reaching up to the top of the climbing frame to grab the little green egg from where one of the girls had left it poking out of a post that’d lost its end cap, the larger rounded bottom of the egg resting in the top of the hollow tube perfectly. “Into the bucket! That’s my girl!”

Eddie could watch him all day. Could watch him climbing a tree to get the one egg Eddie had left up a tree, could watch him bent over -oh my god that shirt rode up and hello perfect ass- pushing his daughter up the tube slide to grab the little egg one of the girls had stuck to the inside of it with double sided sticky tape. Could watch Ellie running to her dad with an arm full of eggs she’d found half hidden in a shrub, could watch him celebrate by lifting her up and twirling her around all day long Eddie was so very screwed.

He could also watch, fascinated, by the way Ellie found the golden egg. She found it, all on her own while hunting in the bushes around the stump. She didn’t yell about it, she didn’t throw it into her bucket, she sneakily showed her dad, who glanced around him as if making sure nobody saw, then whispered something to her, Eddie didn’t know what the man said, but whatever he said, it had her hurrying off, egg in hand, eyes scanning the park and everyone in it for a little while, before very sneakily depositing the little egg into a bush and grabbing a boy by the shoulder to point at it for him.

“Look, look it’s the gold one!” She chirped, shaking the little boy, and nudging him toward it ���you take it! Quick!” Now, Eddie knew all of Ellies friends in day care. And this little boy… wasn’t one of them. He was new, from a family who didn’t have much, relied on coupons and the generosity of the staff at the day care to keep him while his single mother worked long hours for low income.

It was something Eddie had to ask about, but he only got a chance to do that once everything was over. Once the prizes had been doled out, chocolate eggs, cool colouring sets, accessories, the bike to one VERY excited little boy and one baffled and emotional mother, Eddie sidled himself up to Team Harrington, the pair piling their haul into the trunk of Steve’s minivan?

The fuck did he need a mini van for being a parent of an only child? Didn’t matter.

“Sooo, was I seeing things, or did I see one very sneaky little lady giving away a bike earlier?” Ellie only giggled in mischievous glee as she hurried away with the biggest of her chocolate eggs, taking it to go gorge herself on chocolate by the swings, leaving her dad and her favourite day care person all by themselves in the carpark.

Steve smiled at him, amusement dancing in his beautiful hazel baby cow eyes good lord Eddie was so screwed for this man. “It’d have been a bit weird if the person who donated the bike took the bike home, don’t you think?” Surprise must have shown on his face because Steve continued “I knew people were donating stuff, so I uh… I got a few things together and Ellie’s uncle dropped them all off the other day.” Dustin had dropped them off, left the goods with one of the girls. Eddie hadn’t seen who’d left it all. “Didn’t think I’d be the only one donating something big but… I dunno, it’s nice to see it go to someone who’d appreciate it.” He wasn’t bragging, he wasn’t flaunting wealth, he seemed genuinely happy that some random kid now had a bike.

Don’t flirt with the parent, don’t flirt with the parent, don’t flirt with the—fuck it

“Uh… so uhm, stop me, if uh… if—if you’re not like… that way inclined but uhm… are you free on Friday? For uhm… dinner… maybe…?” It was out there, Steve was looking at him, eyes wide in surprise “shit—that was. Too forward. Super unprofessional, I’m sorry, ignore me I’ll just—I gotta—” he was about two seconds into running away when Steve grabbed his arm in a gentle but strong hold.

“Wait! Wait… like, a date?”

“…Yes?”

“Y-yeah! Yes, yeah, absolutely I’ll… I can uhm—Robin, my sister, she can look after Ellie, so yes, absolutely I am absolutely free on Friday. Let’s say… eight, I’ll pick you up? Maybe dinner at my place and a movie?” Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Holy shit. “Eight and that, sounds perfect.” The love life, it has risen!

“Perfect, eight it is.” Hallelujah!!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

On it 🫡

30 for ⚡️:

---

 Pepa, who was at the table when they discussed their plans to have another child. Who was at the table when Adriana offered to donate eggs. She knows what they want. So why is she asking?

“Why?” Eddie asks. 

It’s not that they ever had a problem with adoption. They didn’t. They just… Well, they followed a plan that worked for them. 

“Something has come up,” Pepa says. 

“With Adriana?” Eddie asks, confused as to why he wouldn’t be the first to know. 

“No,” Pepa replies. “With Lourdes.” 

Eddie frowns. “Who is Lourdes?” 

He’s trying to sound patient. Really, he is. But he has never met a Lourdes in his life and he has no idea why they would have any bearing on his current, private family situation. 

“Eddie, I’ve told you this before. Lourdes is the grandaughter of Maria, my friend from church and Bunko.”

Eddie freezes. “Pepa, I’m gay and married.”

Pepa clicks her tongue. “And she is eighteen years-old. No, that’s not why I am calling, obviously.”

The pieces begin to slot together in Eddie’s head. 

“She’s pregnant?” He asks. 

---

30 for 🔼:

---

Shannon tries reaching out to Maddie about Buck, but Maddie sort of blows her off. Something to do with a new gym. She sounds off, too. Maybe upset about her brother. 

She doesn’t know what to do at all, until things start to get worse. Much worse. 

It starts at Shannon’s twenty-eight week scan. A pretty significant appointment, as far as she’s concerned. One that measures growth and predicts weight at birth. Which, considering Christopher had been a big baby and that had contributed to the complications during his delivery, Shannon is sort of anxious to find out. Helena isn’t even here, isn’t even involved, but she can already hear her patronizing voice. All my babies were normal sizes, easy deliveries. Must come from your side of the family, dear. Shannon had wanted to kill her. 

Eddie knows Shannon is anxious for this appointment. She’s told him. Well, not about what his mother said. He wasn’t home then. But about the rest of it. The anxiety. She’s talked to her new therapist about it too. 

“You hold onto a lot of guilt,” her therapist, Giselle, says. “Maybe the best thing we could work on, for you, would be how to process that and move forward healthily.”

So that’s the goal. But she’s not there yet. And until she is, she’s going to need this appointment to give her good news. Like, perhaps, a smaller baby. Though she knows that’s not the statistical likelihood. 

To Eddie’s credit, he isn’t bad during the appointment. He’s fine. 

---

30 for 🧟‍♀️:

---

Eddie nods. “Well, it would have taken us longer than that to walk, potentially.” 

“Back to Sunport?” Abby asks. “That’s dangerous.”

“It is,” Eddie agrees. “But if it’s what I have to do, I’ll do it.”

“Well, you don’t,” Taylor sighs. “We’ll take care of you. Get you home.” 

And even though Eddie doesn’t really like her, he finds that on this matter, he trusts her. 

▪️▪️▪️

The house Shannon mentioned is less of a house and more of a whole compound. 

“How the hell did you pull this off?” Buck asks, as they walk through a marble foyer that looks jarring with boarded windows and weapon gun lockers. They clearly went for practicality, not decor. 

“I knew the director who owned it,” Taylor says. “I was trying to move from traffic news to real stories. She had something for me that she wanted me to break. I was the only one she trusted.”

“Hollywood scandal?” Buck asks.

“Something like that.”

She doesn’t elaborate. Eddie thinks maybe he doesn’t want to know. 

“Anyway, she died. I knew the gate code,” Taylor shrugs. “Rest is history.”

The property is fully gated. There are security cameras. It’s safe the way the library is safe. 

[thebisexualdogdad]

I swear they better not have this Buck being a sperm doner storyline end in Buck changing his mind at the last second because he "realizes he can't just be a doner". I'm so tired of shows only ever adding to the stigma that donating sperm/eggs to a couple (or person wanting to be a single parent) is a negative thing because "you'll have a child out there whose life you won't be a part of". DNA does not make a family. That is not your child it's theirs (unless it is the occasional situation where the person/couple explicity asks the doner to be a part of that childs life). And the b*ddies need to stop making this about b*ddie. No Buck and Eddie aren't gonna get together because "this is gonna make Buck realize he wants to be a dad and then he's gonna have a kid with eddie".

[aashiqeddiediaz]

Who's more freaked out when they bring Vera home, Buck or Eddie? What does their first night look like?

Hehe sorry for the super long wait!! Happy (very belated) birthday, CJ!! I hope you like this <3

[homebound - AO3 Link]

Word Count: 6127 words

Rated Teen for surrogacy discussions, parental anxiety and insecurities

Babies are tiny.

That’s the first thought that pops into Eddie’s head as the nurse places a tiny child in his arms.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen this before. He held Christopher as soon as the nurse handed the screaming child to him, but Christopher was never this tiny. Christopher came out nearly hitting records with his birth weight, and while all babies had an air of fragility around them, the newborn in his hands right now puts the word ‘delicate’ to shame.

Their daughter looks absolutely miniscule, with her little button nose, the tufts of dark hair on her head, the way her mouth keeps forming little “o” shapes as she blinks up at him and the whole hand that won't even wrap completely around his finger. For a long minute, all those fears of parenting hit him all at once, despite having been at the forefront of it for the past six years, and Eddie’s terrified that he’s going to fuck this all up again, even if Buck won’t let him.

Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from her, even when his vision blurs for what seems like the fiftieth time tonight. Even when Buck’s arms come around both of them, Eddie only moves to push back firmly into him, gaze still fixed right on their daughter.

“Take your shirt off and sit down,” Eddie says after they’ve stood there for nearly ten minutes, just watching their daughter fuss and curl back and forth in Eddie’s arms. Buck complies quietly, pressing a kiss to his temple before moving to peel his shirt off. Once he’s settled, Eddie passes their daughter to him for the first skin-to-skin contact, blinking back tears the whole way as her head rests on Buck’s chest.

Buck’s smile at her is radiant as he kisses the top of her head, and for what seems like the millionth time, Eddie falls in love with him all over again. His husband’s eyes are wet too, but his grin stretches ear to ear as his arms cradle their daughter and it’s an image that settles right into Eddie’s bones, along with the rest of them. He pulls his phone out and snaps a few pictures.

Suddenly, he’s so glad that they set their boundaries on wanting privacy for this. Christopher’s waiting outside eagerly, but for this skin-to-skin contact, Buck and Eddie had wanted the time to themselves with her. After that, Chris would be the first to meet her, before they let everyone else take a peek.

As he watched their daughter shove a fist into her mouth as she yawned, Eddie thought back on how this even came to be. 

Becoming parents for the second time wasn’t something that had been on either of their radars, but one random mention of siblings from Christopher and the seed had been planted in both their minds.

From there, they’d made a decision, knowing they were in the best spot to opt for adding another kid to their family. Married for a year and a half, their son completely enraptured by the idea of a brother or sister to play with, and neither of them getting any younger...there really hadn’t been a better time than the present. 

So there began their research. They looked into every possible way to expand their family, but Adriana had offered to donate an egg when Eddie told her that they were thinking about adding another kid to their mix. After that, the decision was practically made for them.

They lucked out in many ways, having connections to the best surrogacy agencies through their family and friends. Their surrogate, Gillian, was one of the kindest, most genuine people they’d ever met. She’d been upfront about everything with them, this being her second surrogate pregnancy, and as first-timers, Buck and Eddie had been relieved to get personal insight into what the journey would look like.

She hadn’t wanted to stay in daily contact with the intended parents, which was understandable, so they’d worked out a deal with the agency that they would get to attend any medical appointments about the baby, and that if Gillian needed anything, she could call them instantly.

It wasn’t painless, nor easy. There were quite a few moments where they were anxious if the pregnancy even took during the embryo transfer, but the day it did, they must’ve cried all day just reading the text and pouring over the scans and test results. It was terrifying to even let themselves hope before the first trimester was up, but forty excruciatingly long weeks later, here they were.

“We need to name her,” Eddie says, kneeling down by Buck’s knee. The baby had found what seems like a fascination with the black ink on his chest, drowsily resting a tiny hand against it. Eddie reaches a finger out to her other hand, letting all five fingers wrap around it as he leans up to kiss his husband. Just like he thought, they don't wrap the whole way, Eddie's heart clenching at the image.

“We have a list somewhere, don’t we?”

They do. It’s filled with all the names they thought could suit their little family, suit this little person they hadn’t met until just now. Girl names, boy names, unisex names...they’d listed so many that it would be hell to choose from any of them. 

The name that comes to Eddie isn’t on any of the lists.

“Vera,” he says softly, looking at Buck for his reaction. “Truth. Faith.”

It’s that faith that brought them here. All those sleepless nights, fretting because they were too scared that their excitement would jinx everything. The trips to the fertility clinic, holding Adriana’s hand after she donated her egg, the back-and-forth on if they were pregnant to finally passing the first, then the second, then the third trimesters — there had been so many ups and downs. 

There’d been many moments, fleeting as some of them may have been, where they’d wondered if this was meant to be at all. They knew some parents tried for years with no success. Not that they would’ve slammed the door shut on expanding their family if the surrogacy didn’t pan out — adoption and fostering were also options they’d looked into — but surrogacy was where they’d set their heart, after pouring so much into it. 

“Vera,” Buck tests on his tongue, looking down at their daughter. “It’s perfect, Eddie. And...Madelyn. Vera Madelyn Diaz.” Knowing that Maddie’s name wasn’t anything but Maddie, Eddie knows that Buck just put a spin on it to pay homage to the one person who’s gotten him through the worst parts of his life.

As soon as he says it, Vera makes a sound, turning impossibly further into Buck’s skin. It’s not a cry, not quite a laugh either, but it feels like a pretty damn big sign to him.

“Looks like she’s made up her mind. Vera Madelyn Diaz, it is,” Eddie smiles when Buck bends to kiss him again, whispering, “I love you” against his lips.

“Here, take your turn.” Buck stands carefully, moving out of the way so Eddie can take his spot, shedding his shirt as Buck places Vera back in his arms, pulling out his phone to record the memory for the baby book and box they’ve started putting together.

“You think Chris will take some time to adjust now that she’s actually here?” Eddie asks quietly as Buck kneels next him. Initially, the twelve year age gap between their two kids made them nervous, but between Buck’s age gap with Maddie, and Harry’s with May, they were a little more confident about all of it. 

Buck shakes his head, reaching over to grab a baby blanket to drape around them. “Not right now, no, but when the novelty wears off, he might. Just because all the attention can’t be his. I’d be worried if he adjusted too well, to be honest. I'd just keep thinking he's hiding something.”

They’d kept Chris part of the process as much as they could, not wanting him to feel left out or isolated from the pregnancy in any way. The specific mechanics of the whole surrogacy were kept out of their discussion, but Buck and Eddie had taken turns explaining exactly what they were doing, and that it wouldn’t be like his friend’s mom, who was pregnant. 

It had led to more than a few awkward conversations, but Eddie’s glad they had them. Chris wasn’t a kid anymore, and they were fast approaching the years where he’d be curious about literally everything. 

“Okay, dads, do we have a name?” Lily breezes in with a flutter of papers, setting them down on the counter.

“Yeah. Vera Madelyn Diaz,” Buck answers, standing up to fill the birth certificate in. “Hey Eds, I’m spelling Madelyn M-A-D-E-L-Y-N. It looks so much cooler than the usual spelling.”

Eddie laughs, much to Vera’s displeasure, who immediately fusses at the way she’s jostled. He pats her back a couple times immediately, ignoring the rush of panic that shutters through him at the sound of her cry. 

“It’s a gorgeous name, and you two are already naturals over there,” Lily laughs. “I’ve gotta take her for just a couple more tests, and she’s all yours.”

Eddie reluctantly hands Vera over, slipping his shirt back on and turning to look at Buck, the two of them now alone in the small room.

“We did it, Eddie,” Buck whispers, eyes sparkling. Eddie steps closer and wraps him in a hug, breathing in the unique scent of his husband’s skin. 

Eddie has never imagined his life taking the turns that it did, but for it having brought him here, with two perfect kids and a husband he loves with every part of him, he can’t complain. Given the tightness of Buck’s arms around him, he’s thinking along the same lines, too.

“I love you,” Eddie repeats as they pull away, dragging his hands up to Buck’s face. 

“Love you, too,” Buck whispers, pressing a slow kiss onto his mouth. Eddie smiles at his partner, linking their left hands.

Lily comes back in what seems like no time at all, letting them know what time they could take Vera home tomorrow. She assures them that Gillian is doing great, too, and they hand her a letter to give their surrogate.

“I wish we could thank her in person, again,” Buck brings up privately.

“We’ve given her a way to reach us if she wants to be friends, but she’s not new to this. There’s probably a reason she doesn’t want us to see her after the baby’s been given,” Eddie replies. 

They had been in the delivery room with her, holding onto her hands as she pushed, but once Vera had come into the world with a screaming cry, their labor nurse, Edna, had placed the baby on Gillian’s chest.

Having read up on the importance of not taking away the surrogate contact immediately, Buck and Eddie had let themselves be shooed from the room while all the post-birth procedures went underway, not wanting Gillian to be uncomfortable. 

Their found family had been waiting outside the whole time, all of them standing as soon as Buck and Eddie came out.

The pronouncement of them having a girl had led to quite a few tears on everyone’s part, but that was just as much as they got time for before they had to go back for the next stage of the process.

Just like before, they step out together to Christopher’s eager face, surrounded by the rest of their family. 

“We named her Vera,” Buck announces to a bunch of hushed cheers. In a softer voice, directed entirely to Maddie, he says, “Vera Madelyn Diaz.”

Eddie watches as his sister-in-law’s eyes fill with tears. He steps away to let Buck and Maddie have their moment, folding Maddie in his own hug when they’re finished.

“Can I see her?” Christopher asks as Buck hugs him.

“Sure, buddy, as soon as Lily comes back with her. They just had to make sure she’s healthy.”

“Did you do the skin-to-skin contact with her?” Hen asks. 

Eddie nods, gesturing between himself and Buck. “Yeah we both did, she didn’t cry at being passed from one to the other, so the emotional transfer period shouldn’t be too painful. Gillian’s doing great, too.”

As he relays the information, he sends his own mental prayers of thanks, never wanting to take anything for granted. He knows just how lucky they got it, and he never wants to lose sight of that.

“When can we bring her home?” Chris asks, almost vibrating with his excitement.

“Hopefully tomorrow. She has to stay for at least a day,” Buck answers, ruffling his hair. "As soon as the doctors give us the green light, we'll take her."

Before anyone can ask any more questions, Lily comes back out to get them. This time, Buck and Eddie take Christopher into the room with them, having him sit down on the couch while Eddie brings his new baby sister over.

“Vera, meet your big brother, Christopher,” Eddie whispers as he carefully sets her down in Chris’ lap, Buck showing him how to hold her.

“Support her head, buddy, she can’t hold it up herself just yet,” he guides, placing Chris’ hands and arms in the appropriate cradle. Once Buck nods at him, Eddie lets her go.

Christopher whispers to Vera, in a voice too soft for either of them to hear, but enough for Eddie to grab his phone and take a few pictures. “I think my heart is going to explode,” he tells Buck around the lump in his throat.

Buck laughs wetly, tilting their temples together. “It can’t explode, we’ve got a lot of these moments left in life.”

Eddie smiles at him, capturing his lips in another chaste kiss. He’s right — they’ve got a lot of these moments to go. A lot of things that they're still to catalogue for their kids, for their family.

“She doesn’t look like any of us,” Chris observes, running a finger over her hair.

“As she gets older, we’ll be able to see who she looks like,” Eddie tells him. He already knows that their family and friends are outside debating who the baby’s going to look the most like, but those aren’t bets they’re going to get the answer to right now. 

Right now, as much as Eddie hates to say it, but Vera looks like...any other newborn baby. Aside from her hair and eyes, there is nothing else that’s going to distinguish her from the other ones in the nursery.

“Was I this small?”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “No bud, you were a lot bigger than she is.”

“I think there’s a picture of Eddie holding you, Chris, on the day you were born. I found it the other day while we were setting up the nursery.” Buck directs the last part to him. Eddie raises his eyebrows; he didn’t even know there was a picture. He had been way too focused on how much he didn’t want to leave his wife and kid as he held him to notice if anyone had been snapping pictures.

“Let’s take her to meet everyone else quickly, okay? She’s growing tired,” Buck says. Vera blinks blearily at Christopher as he nods at Buck.

Eddie holds the door open as Buck walks outside, barely resisting the urge to tell everyone to get in a straight line and not crowd her.

Luckily enough, Bobby takes charge of it without them saying anything, rounding the peanut gallery up so they don’t overwhelm Vera. 

The introductions go on with a bunch of cooing and squeals and sounds of awes as their daughter is passed around the room. Buck hovers around with his phone, snapping pictures as if he can even see past the tears in his eyes. Not that Eddie’s one to talk, because he doesn’t think he’s happy-cried this much since the day Chris was born. 

On one occasion, Eddie hears Bobby telling Buck how proud of them he is, and on another, Eddie’s parents FaceTime to see their granddaughter. Buck’s parents call to congratulate them too, and they send a picture of Vera over.

They make it through the rest of the night as their family begins to disperse. Once only Christopher is left, Eddie exchanges a look with Buck as they try to decide whether to go home or for one of them to stick around in case Gillian or Vera need them. 

In the end, Lily convinces them to go home. “There are still a few formalities left for you two to complete to be eligible to take her home tomorrow, and you both need to complete them on a clear head. Go home, take Chris, get some rest. They’ll be here in the morning, and God forbid anything happens, we’ll call you immediately.”

She’s right. They would be completely useless here, so Eddie picks up a sleeping Christopher and carries him out to Buck’s Jeep.

“Dad,” Chris mumbles into his shoulder. “Did we bring Vera?”

Eddie strokes a hand down their son’s back as Buck unlocks the door and presses a kiss to Chris’ hair before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Tomorrow, buddy. We can take her home tomorrow.”

Buck’s hand finds its way to Eddie’s thigh as soon as they’re all settled, driving towards home.

“Tomorrow,” he says, a whisper of awe in his voice.

Turns out that they were decidedly not prepared for Vera’s arrival.

“This is ridiculous,” Buck grumbles, tapping nervously on the steering wheel. “We’ve been making lists for every single damn thing for nine months and now we’re running around like headless chickens.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, nervously pressing his fingers together to crack the knuckles, even though he knows it’s a habit that drives Buck crazy. Given how shot their nerves are, he’s not surprised when Buck shoots him a scathing glare, tangling their fingers together.

“At least this way you’ll stop doing that,” he says. Eddie wisely doesn’t mention he’s not going to be able to crack his knuckles so soon after doing it once, instead tightening his grip on his husband’s hand. Who cares that both their palms are sweaty enough that they keep slipping?

Eddie didn’t think he’d be swamped in this stark level of fear at just the mere prospect of taking Vera out of the safety of the hospital into the real world.

It’s not only taking her away from the hospital, where nurses and doctors could correct them if there’s something they’re doing wrong, but also about everything becoming far too real, far too fast. It’s about both of them knowing that no matter how many parenting books they flip through, the practical is a whole other battle that nothing can prepare them for.

Eddie wasn’t there the first time. Chris was home for five days and four sleepless nights before Eddie was shipped back out, pressing kisses over his son’s face, knowing that he wouldn’t be back to see this phase. Another part of him was acutely aware of the high possibility of never making it back to see his wife and son at all.

This time, everything is different.

It’s not different because he’s got a kid and he’s not in the Army anymore. Not once has Eddie thought that Vera is his second chance to make it right, because what he told his father before leaving Texas still stands. He isn’t ever going to make up for those mistakes with anyone but Christopher, and to use another child to make himself feel better is, in his mind, the worst thing in the world a parent could do. 

But that doesn’t change the fact that his palms are sweating, he can taste the dryness in his mouth, and he’s two seconds from shaking out of his skin. It doesn’t change the fact that every bit of medic training, parental advice and knowledge, and his own experience with Christopher have flown straight out the window at just the sight of her.

“I don’t want him to feel like I won’t love him anymore,” Buck says quietly, apropos of nothing. “Or that I’ll love Vera more because there’s the biological link.”

Eddie jolts slightly at the words, looking at his husband. “Why would he think that?”

“He hasn’t said anything to me, but the past couple of weeks, he’s been clinging to me more than usual, as if I’m going to leave.” The words sound like they’ve been pulled from him forcefully, jagged and raw with Buck’s apprehension. “I’m not sure what it is, but I looked it up, and that’s all I found. Think about it, Eds.”

“He didn’t tell me anything, either,” Eddie frowns, peering past the dashboard as if he could see their eldest standing there. “But hey, I’m sure it’s not that. He’s enjoying being the only kid for the last couple days he will be, and now...he’s just not. No matter how much we try to split our time equally, we’re going to end up juggling a lot of things. With Vera, we’re all going to go through an adjustment.”

Eddie knows that this stems from Buck’s insecurities too. He knows that Buck has loved Christopher before he’s loved any other part of the Diaz family, including Eddie. And he knows that part of him doesn’t believe that he deserves to be Christopher’s father in the dark moments. In the same way Eddie’s nerves have hooked claws into his insecurities to wrench them all to the surface, Buck’s have done the same to him, leaving both of them feeling off-kilter.

“I’m scared, too,” he admits. “Even though we’ve known that this was what we were fighting for this whole time, yesterday made it very...real. But that’s our daughter in there, Chris’ little sister. We’re going to bring her home, and then we’ll take it from there.”

“Okay,” Buck says in a determined voice, twisting to kiss him. “Let’s just do this. We’re not gonna get anything done sitting here. It’s you and me, the whole way.”

“Our way, or the highway,” Eddie chokes out, staring at the hospital now that his newfound bravado has melted out his ears. Apparently only one of them can be determined at the same time. He misses Buck’s scrunched nose but he doesn’t miss the fond muttering of “idiot” under his husband’s breath, and glares at him for it.

They leave the car only to U-turn and quickly make sure the car seat is ready for the millionth time. Eddie grabs the baby bag with a pair of clothes for Vera before taking Buck’s hand.

“Ready?” he asks, stealing a kiss before they enter the hospital.

Buck nods and squeezes his hand. “Ready.”

They drive back home in a daze, almost.

The rest of the papers have been signed, Vera is officially theirs, Gillian is doing amazing, but now they’re freaking out more than anything.

Eddie’s driving this time, going nearly ten below the limit to make sure he doesn’t jostle the car seat. Buck’s sitting in the seat next to her to make sure, eyes fixed on their daughter. 

“Eddie if you keep going this slow, we’re going to get pulled over,” Buck comments, gesturing to one of the many police cars they pass. “And none of them are going to be Athena.”

He forces himself to let go of his tighter-than-hell grip on the steering wheel, pushing the gas a little further, much to the relief of everyone who was honking behind him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, flicking his blinker to turn onto their street.

Thankfully, the hospital isn’t far from their house, and they’re back home before they know it. Buck sets the carrier in front of the couch and the two of them lower themselves next to her, staring at their second kid.

Eddie drinks in the sight of Vera for the first time since they’ve left the hospital. They dressed her in an outfit Chris had picked out online, covered her with a blanket and bundled her up to bring her home. She’s still wearing the hospital-issued hat, and she’s one of the most adorable things Eddie has ever seen.

Carla’s going to bring Christopher home in three hours, so that’s three hours of quiet, with Vera sucking on her thumb as she sleeps.

Naturally, she stirs and starts crying as soon as Eddie thinks of the q-word, which absently makes him think that the superstition doesn’t only apply to firehouses. The shrill cry pierces the silence, and for a moment, all Buck and Eddie can do is panic.

As quick as the panic comes, they shove it down just as fast, both of them scrambling to calm her back down. “Oh for God’s sake, we’ve babysat more kids than we know what to do with,” Eddie grumbles, gently pulling Vera out of the carrier while Buck sprints to the kitchen to scrub his hands and prepare a bottle of formula. “We can handle our own kid.”

Eddie stands up and rocks Vera back and forth, patting her back periodically. The crying pierces his eardrums but his mind’s too busy racing for ways to calm her down. 

They changed her diaper right before leaving the hospital so it couldn’t be that. Buck’s working on the hunger, and she just woke up from a nap, so it doesn’t feel like that would be tiredness either.

Before Eddie can jump to more conclusions, Buck comes back with the bottle, testing the temperature on his wrist the way Maddie showed him. 

“Here,” he offers. Eddie sits back down, folding his legs underneath himself to balance Vera properly as he pressed the bottle’s nipple against her mouth. 

Thankfully, she calms down instantly with the food and the tension bleeds out of their shoulders, Buck collapsing with relief next to him. “Thank God,” Eddie mutters, holding the bottle at an angle so she doesn't guzzle down too fast.

“Let me go get the bassinet,” Buck says as he hops back up. “Dibs on burping her!” he calls over his shoulder. Eddie shakes his head at his husband's back but focuses his attention back on Vera.

Buck comes back with the supplies in record time, setting the bassinet in the corner and draping one of the burping cloths over his shoulder. V era finishes suckling on the bottle in record time, blinking her eyes open and giving him a milky smile. Eddie’s eyes widen instantly as he moves to hiss at Buck. “Get the phone, get the phone, she’s smiling!” 

Poor Buck’s flustered enough to nearly lose grip on his phone, but they manage to get at least one picture of her smiling at them that’s not too blurry. They both know that babies don’t actually smile until 6 to 12 weeks, and that she’s just smiling on reflex, but they can’t help themselves from getting excited anyway.

“Okay, I sent it to everyone, and now we’ll probably have a few of them breaking down the doors any second,” Buck peers at his phone, tossing it aside as Eddie hands him Vera.

“All of that for tomorrow. Today’s for us. I hope she’s awake when Chris gets home,” Eddie says, pulling his own phone out to read through the chat. There’s Maddie threatening Buck to stop sending pictures unless they want everyone on their doorstep in the next half an hour, Karen telling them that they have to keep sending pictures, Bobby asking if the bassinet he helped put together was working and Chim wondering how panicked they are.

It’s a perfect playback to the day Grace was born, Chimney losing his shit in the waiting room before Hen finally forced her best friend down beside her, imparting a few words of wisdom that finally got him to sit still for two seconds while Eddie had been doing the same thing to Buck. It was borderline comedic how fast Buck and Chim shot up when the nurse came out asking for the family of Maddie Buckley. 

Gillian’s labor wasn’t as long as Maddie’s had been, and anyway, Maddie had needed a C-section. This time, by the time the rest of their friends and family got to the hospital, Buck and Eddie were inside with Gillian while Karen picked Chris up from school.

“Chim’s question is the only one I’ve got an answer for,” Buck snorts when Eddie shows it to him, shaking his head as he stands with Vera over his shoulder, burping her.

“And that is?”

Eddie watches as his husband turns his cheek to rest on Vera’s temple lightly as he thinks the answer over. Suddenly, his heart is swelling ten times its original size, and it can’t be healthy how quickly the breath gets knocked out of him at the sight.

He takes another picture.

“Terrified,” Buck finally settles on. “Like, what do I know about babies?”

Eddie cocks a brow and looks pointedly at where Vera’s cradled in his hands, safe and sound as she makes little hiccupping noises when Buck pats her back repeatedly. “I’d say a lot.” Buck gives him a deadpan look that Eddie meets with a shrug. “I get it. It’s something we’re both learning, right? No matter what either of us have been through with Chris or Grace or any other kids we know, every kid is different. Especially in the newborn stages.”

“Yeah,” Buck sighs. “You’d think we’d be better prepared with the number of times Maddie and Chimney have dropped Grace off with us.”

“And then texted every twenty minutes to make sure we didn’t destroy her.” 

Vera lets out the burp they were waiting for, wriggling in Buck’s arms as soon as she’s done. Eddie laughs at her antics while Buck adjusts her in his arms until she’s staring up at him instead. It’s oddly endearing to watch his husband, as broad and tall as he is, cradle this tiny infant in his arms.

“You know, I can’t even blame them for that now,” Buck complains, swaying back and forth to rock her to sleep. It doesn’t look like Vera will be awake when Chris gets home, but she’s not going anywhere anymore.

“For texting us every twenty minutes?” Eddie snorts. “Yeah. We’re gonna be the exact same way.”

“If not worse.”

Eddie laughs, getting up to kiss Buck and lean down to press a kiss to Vera’s forehead. “Maybe we shouldn’t let anyone take her at all. Problem solved.”

“Think we’ll make it worse when the cavalry comes for us, on allegations of keeping her away from them.” He’s got a point for sure.

It takes no time at all for Vera to fall asleep on her full stomach, curled and safe as she is in her father’s arms. Eddie steals another picture, ignores Buck’s rolled eyes, and brings out the baby blanket to drape over their daughter as Buck settles her down in the bassinet.

“You think we should swaddle her?” Buck whispers.

“Not when she’s already asleep. Next time,” Eddie replies, looking down at the blanket in his hand. Instead, he tucks it around her securely, scooting back to prop his back against the couch. Buck crawls towards him, settling into his side as they watch Vera sleep.

“Better shoot Carla a message to bring Chris quietly,” he says. 

Eddie does just that, remembering Chris’ excitement over breakfast. “He was over the moon this morning,” he tells Buck. 

“I’m glad that he is, but I’m still going to talk to him about that thing,” Buck replies, gesturing towards Vera. “I love her with every part of me but I love Chris the exact same way. It’s not an exchange and I don’t want him to feel like it is.”

Eddie loves this man with every square inch of himself. 

Too happy for words, he leans forward to kiss Buck languidly, unhurried and trying to press his love into his skin. “Have I told you I love you today?”

Buck laughs, pressing their foreheads together. “Mhm, only about a thousand times, but it can’t hurt to hear it again.”

“I’m convinced I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Eddie says quietly, wrapping his arms tighter around his husband, taking in the sight of Vera sleeping over his shoulder. "I'm so glad I get to do this with you."

“We both are.” Buck smiles.

It only gets better when Chris comes home from school to find Buck and Eddie in the exact same position, Vera still blissfully asleep. Carla’s the one to take a picture of them this time, angled around Vera’s bassinet without disturbing her.

Chris sits down with them as he talks about his day at school and how all the other kids in his class are excited to hear about his baby sister. Buck untangles himself from Eddie to ask Chris to come talk to him for a second, and when they both emerge, Eddie sees that both his boys’ eyes are wet but Chris is smiling a little wider and brighter. Once again, Buck’s hit the jackpot with what their son needs.

“Proud of you,” Eddie tells his husband privately, kissing his cheek. Buck smiles secretly, looking pleased and content with himself.

“Can I take her to school?” Chris asks eagerly as Vera stirs, thankfully falling right back asleep.

Eddie didn’t even know middle schoolers liked babies enough for Chris to want to show her off, but he chuckles and tells him, “I’m not sure she’s old enough for that just yet, bud. She’s going to sleep a lot for now. Maybe when Buck or I come pick you up one of these days, you can bring your friends to see her for a minute.”

The answer pacifies Christopher, who promptly opens his homework book and starts working on it. Eddie walks Carla out and joins his boys back on the couch, he and Buck picking their discussion about work back up.

Leaving Vera to go to work is going to be one of the hardest things they’ve ever done, especially knowing not even Chris will be here with her, but they’ll have to manage. They only have two weeks of paternity leave.

“You know what we should’ve done. You take the first two weeks off, and I take the second. That way one of us is home all month,” Buck suggests.

Eddie shakes his head. “Bobby said that’s not how the paternity leave works, we have to take it within the baby being born or adopted.”

“Stupid regulations,” Buck grumbles, sighing when Eddie wraps an arm around his shoulder. Bobby tried pulling as many strings as he could but it was either 2 weeks paid each right after, or unpaid vacation leave whenever they wanted. After that, as much as Eddie hated it, there was no question. They needed the money.

“It’ll work out,” he tells his husband. “Those are all problems for another day. For now, let’s just enjoy...this.”

He gestures to where Chris is solving math problems on a scrap piece of notebook paper, and Vera sleeping soundly in the background, Buck wrapped tight in Eddie’s arms. Cocooned as they are in their own bubble today, tomorrow’s probably going to bring a whole new set of needles to burst it.

Buck agrees with him by slackening some of the tension out of his shoulders to fit more solidly against Eddie. “Yeah.”

The night passes just like this. Buck orders pizza for them, wrinkling his nose when Eddie and Chris gesture for pineapple. Vera wakes up some time into their second slice of pizza, blinking curiously with eyes too big for her face. Christopher gets the chance to talk to her some more, which leads to more tears from him and Buck, but as soon as he stops talking, Vera starts bawling and this time, it takes nearly an hour to calm her down. 

This time, Eddie sets their sleeping, swaddled daughter into the infant crib in his and Buck’s bedroom to avoid anything waking her up, switching on the baby monitor.

When he and Buck curl up in bed together after checking on Vera, Eddie presses his lips to the side of Buck’s head and keeps them there, so happy that part of him feels like he’ll wake up from it any minute now. 

“It’s not a dream,” Buck whispers, kissing the center of his chest. “We deserve good things too.” Eddie repeats the affirmation out loud, closing his husband in his arms. 

They get up 3 separate times for Vera during the first night alone, but it’s all worth it.

He really is the luckiest man in the world.

[bates--boy]

          Antiseptic stung his nose, filled his chest with acidic poison. Still, he gulped down air, shallow and stringent, the lights above him so blinding and so sterile --

          Wait! Here is something!

June, 1982

          News always came to Peter at a rapid speed, sometimes before even much of the mainland population had tuned in or bought the daily to read over breakfast; there are some benefits to being a relative of the UK. Sometimes this worked in his favor, such as listening for more attempts at destroying his fort and preparing counterattacks before Arthur’s boats or helicopters were even halfway across the sea; sometimes it was mundane fodder to get something published or broadcast to the public, something Peter could let play out as background noise or have read to him while he made repairs.

          Then, there are stories that he hoped with every part of his soul to not be true, that he hoped that this supposed benevolent god out there was playing a joke that, though heartless and sick, meant that none of what Peter heard was true.

          The young boy had to wait until Prince Michael slunk off for a nap, and the other fort workers bustling about as they prepared for switching out, for the opportunity to smuggle the portable radio to a small corner of the fort for a private listen. He couldn't have his Prince Paddy hearing about Peter being preoccupied with news about a bunch of sick poofs dying in the hospital, and Peter was certain that if his crew knew --

          "From what I hear," one of the crew members said while they fried up greasy eggs to serve with the burnt toast, "another twenty or some of them sodomites died!"

          -- they would report it to his prince. So he clutched the radio to his chest, where his heart drummed so fast that it may very well burst out of his rib cage and break the device, if his arms didn’t crush it first. 

            Another twenty sodomites died! Another twenty sodomites died! Another twenty sodomites died! Peter heard in his ears louder than the metallic clunk of his footsteps as he rushed to a secured spot. He knew that not all of those patients could be saved, but as long as he was safe, as long as it didn’t touch him...

            Getting to his bedroom, Peter shoved his desk chair underneath his doorknob and switched his radio on. He paced around the room, twisting the knob and watching the little red tick slide between the radio stations he knew would have the news.

             “-- Noah’s Farms! You won’t find fresher poultry--”

          “--ince Charles to make an ann--”

             He threw promises as God’s feet, that he’ll volunteer at soup kitchens whenever he’s on the mainland, that he’ll never ask for any more material possessions -- he’ll give away all the toys that he has to poorer children! -- that he’ll read the Bible to the blind or donate all of his organs, just please--

          “--Prime Minister scheduled today to speak--”

          “--Yet another twenty-two men have died of AIDS this morning, according t--”

          “--rses and doctors struggle to stay ahead of this epidemic--”

            --Please not him!

          “Come on, come on...” Peter mumbled. Because Lisette had to be wrong.

          “--now the obituaries. Mr. Derrick Loring, aged 22, passed away the thirteenth of June. Friends of Derrick will hold a funeral...”

            Peter’s mind half faded out into a white noise, a buzz to try to block out all of the names, or at least distant himself from them. He didn’t need to count the high number of recently deceased; there was nothing he could do for Derrick or Jeremiah or Jianyu or Martin. He wished he could have done something for them, but maybe, as long as he was still here, as long as Lisette was wrong--

           “...Eddie Brainard passed away on the fifteenth of June. Friends of Eddie will have more information on...”

              He switched the radio off, looking up and past it to the floral print walls of this room that didn’t feel like it belonged to him, in this room that he didn’t feel like he was in. Stumbling backwards, Peter dropped the radio as he plopped onto the foot of his bed. Prince Paddy would have had words for Peter about being careless with expensive plastic toys, and Peter even let out a distant, weak chuckle about his prince’s curmudgeon nagging, but none of it would reach Peter as he sunk lower and lower into the deep, cold, numbing depths of water --

              “Though shalt not lie with man as with woman!”

              He clawed his way up, gasping, water stinging his nose. Still, he could smell the wretched spice of bourbon in her breath. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry--” he begged before she grabbed his neck and pushed him--

              Peter came back to the room, finding himself shoving bundles of tee shirts and shorts and underwear into his well-worn holdall. Lisette was wrong, she was wrong wrong wrong and Peter misheard. He simply misheard or they were mistaken, and he just needed to see for himself. Yanking the zipper closed, Peter hoisted the improperly-packed bag onto his shoulders and sped all the way back up to the platform.

            “Hey!” Peter screeched, his voice or the frantic thudding of his feet on metal drawing everyone’s attention to him. He stopped right where they all gathered by the pulley. “I want to come, too!”

              He knew how odd his demanded sounded: he wasn’t due to visit Arthur for another week, and they usually had to drag him kicking and screaming onto the boat -- or bribe him with promises of their homes to escape to should Peter feel the need to run away -- but what had changed? He saw hope flickering on their faces, that maybe this child had finally come around and let go of his unreasonable grudge. He would have to play along with this ruse and quell his nervous energy as they lowered him and his belongings to the boat below.

It would have pissed Peter off to see Arthur as how he was when he opened the door: well put-together, brand new tie straight and tucked neatly into his blazer, not a bag under his eyes. It was almost as if he didn’t have innocent civilians dying on his land, that he was about to end another pleasant night with a glass of Scotch like the plague wasn’t decimating the people Peter loved.

              But Peter was barely registering his older brother, or anything else, really. Being on edge for hours made the colors too bright and the shapes too fuzzy for his darting eyes, made words distant and meaningless for his young ears. He was aware of a line of questioning, probably why was he there when it was too early, or why hadn’t anyone ring Arthur before making this unexpected drop off. He knew that Arthur moved out of the way to let his brother in, because Peter had been about to drop off his bag in the guest room and find a way to contact Eddie’s friends for his location when Arthur complained:

              “I was supposed to be visiting the hospital, though! Who the hell can I call to babysit Peter at the last minute?!”

              “I can come with you!” He turned to find Arthur and his fort crew member looking at him, Arthur with a hand on his hip and the other combing back his hair, a burdened contrast to the other man whose crossed arms and hip tilt spoke that none of this was his problem and he would like to get home. The hesitance in the room dried Peter’s mouth, fearful that he would be commanded to stay inside and, therefore, forced to find some other way to sneak out of the house and get to town.

              He could even see Arthur weighing the options presented to him, whether the further inconvenience and possible repercussions were worth letting Peter tag along, or -- Arthur glanced at the crew worker out of the corner of his eye -- if he would have to ask the other man his price for keeping Peter in place for a few hours or even overnight. Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “...If I take you with me,” he mumbled, “you have to promise me that you’ll stay put in the waiting room, understood?”

              “Understood,” Peter agreed with a sharp nod.

              Peter went to put his bag on his bed and hurried back out to the living room, where he found his crew worker absent and Arthur waiting with his arms crossed and his keys clutched in his hand. Following his older brother out, Peter perched himself onto the passenger’s seat and assumed the same guarded position as he had on that long boat ride to shore. Stiff shoulders, hands tucked underneath his thighs, eyes trained onto a point in the horizon outside his window and beyond the slow rebirth of the night life. Somewhere on this street is the secret entrance to the dance club; somewhere out there, more of his friends are getting sick--

                Thou shalt not lie with man--

                No. Lisette was wrong! The Bible... it can be wrong, too! Sometimes God had a reason for the choices He made, sometimes He had to bring his angels back home. It was why Peter understood Marion’s death. But he couldn’t understand why God would punish love.

Once the car was parked and the two marched into the hospital, they stopped to put on the protective equipment, only for Arthur to take Peter’s arm and sit Peter down in the waiting room just as they agreed. He went to the singular concessions table at the far wall, where he mixed a drink with a white instant mix packet and some hot water from the blocky teapot. Carrying the styrofoam cup back to Peter, Arthur picked up an abandoned copy of some children’s mystery novel and handed both to his younger brother.

          “Remember, Peter,” Arthur said, fitting the mask over his face and bending slightly to meet Peter’s eyes, “Stay put. Like you promised me. I’m going to try to make this as quick as possible. If you get hungry, come find me and we can go to the cafeteria.”

          “Alright,” Peter agreed mutely, keeping up his hours-long ruse by taking a sip of the watery hot cocoa and opening the book. Peter watched his older brother leave from the corner of his eye and listened to Arthur’s footsteps, hearing its fading volume stop as some public relations official greeted him before they continued on together.

          Peter counted out thirty seconds, then set the book and drink down on the table and hurried out of the room.

          He kept his ears open for Arthur’s voice as he walked down the hall, tugging a bouffant cap on to make himself look less recognizable at first glance. When he returned to the front desk, the new nurse there had her head hung, fingers tangled in her golden blonde curls in the back of her head. Being this close up allowed Peter to really see all of the styrofoam cups and emptied packets of ibuprofen strewn around her. In his barely-contained panic, she looked like a glowing angel in despair.

          “Excuse me, nurse?” Peter said, before clearing his throat and trying again more firmly, “Nurse!”

          The nurse sighed and raised her head, lowering her hands and turning to the child, giving him a look that warned him that he better have had a damn good reason for bothering her during this one breathing break she had. “Yes, honey...?”

          He took a deep breath and almost gagged -- good Lord, were the cleaners always this strong? -- and stood up taller. “I’m friends with Eddie Brainard and I would like to see him. I was told he would be in this hospital.”

          “Honey, I’m sorry,” the nurse -- Nurse Bethany, read her tag -- said. She shook her head. “Unless I have direct permission from your brother or Eddie Brainard’s close ones, I can’t allow you to see him.”

          “But I am one of his close ones!” Peter jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m one of the few family he has left--!”

          “Peter?”

          Peter gasped and spun around, the familiar voice cutting through his anguish like the silver light of thunderclouds. “Tom!” Peter was already sprinting across the hall before he could stop himself, arms thrown around the foremost blue plastic-clad man’s hips and making their gowns crinkle. 

          “Oof!” Tom grunted. His arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders for a quick squeeze. He nudged Peter away so he could crouch in front of him, slanted dark brown eyes meeting wide blues that were on the brink of tears. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

          “She won’t let me see Eddie!” Peter gripped the sides of his gown. “Tom, I need to see Eddie!”

          “Peter, shush! Shh!”

          “Er,” Nurse Bethany rose halfway out of her seat. “Do you know him...?”

          “Yes. He’s my nephew.” The lie came so quickly that Peter, himself, had nearly forgotten the identities they had forged, the one they told Peter one night over rounds of hot chocolate. Adopted family.

          The nurse scrunched her face as she seemed to try to figure out how this child would fit into this “family” of Eddie’s, already massive with interracial adoptions, as their nephew -- did their parents have bleeding hearts? But the “uncle” had managed to wrangle the little boy, and the nurse had already worked nonstop for eight hours, and will probably have to spend another twelve more in the pit of the dying, so she turned back to her desk to drain her remaining coffee.

          Tom sighed with relief and turned his attention back to Peter. “You shouldn’t be here, Pete. This thing is getting really bad--”

          “Eddie isn’t dead!”

        Tom blinked, then closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly through his mask. When he opened them, they held a gentleness that brought the whole world around Peter to an end, that brought the choking rancidity of brimstone to mix with the antiseptic. “...Peter, love, I’m sorry but--”

          “I need to see Eddie! Please! I know he isn’t dead! He doesn’t deserve to die!”

          Tom looked over his shoulders, exchanging glances with other members of Eddie’s family. Shaking heads, shrugging shoulders, sighs, grimaces, and sad eyes all around. If Peter wasn’t busy telling himself that Eddie was fine, that Eddie was alive, that the world was still whole and there weren’t any cracks forming beneath his feet to make the world gape open and swallow them all, he would have been pissed that even wordlessly, adults would talk about him like he wasn’t in the room.

          Tom stood up and took Peter’s hand, reluctance making his grip weak. “You should see Eddie, Peter. He would want you to say goodbye.”

          HE’S NOT DEAD! Peter wanted to scream until the very walls of this hospital came down around them, until Lisette’s soul burned from the outrage in his voice, but the gentleness in Tom’s eyes, in Tom’s hand wrapped around Peter, was solemn like a prayer. It quieted the fight in Peter’s body, and the anxiety came crashing in, pushing him under. The men led Peter to the elevator; he knew that it was all in his head, but somehow, as the doors glided closed, the antiseptic’s odor reeked stronger, thickening the lower the elevator went, tightening around Peter’s neck like a hand shaky with drink, but strong with conviction.

        You shall repent by the name of God!

        Then the doors opened again and it was a full-on miasma. Eyes watering, Peter looked up at the men around him, wondering how is it that none of them were fighting to not gag like he was? Did they not feel like they were drowning in water so cold and crushing it could shatter their bones? He forced himself to not grip Tom’s hands tighter, for he knew that human bones were as delicate as robin eggs. Without this tether, Peter felt more alone than ever as he plunged deeper into the depths, breaths shallow and unsteady as they came to the solemn creature decked in white, who looked up from their clipboard, met Tom’s eyes, and looked at the clock.

        “You’re here to see Brainard, right?” the white-cloaked creature asked.

        No. Peter’s hand dropped out of Tom’s, sweat filling his gloves. No no no no no no no.

         He saw Tom nodding. With the man’s hand gently pressing against his upper back, Peter was guided down the hallway that was both tainted with darkness that should not exist in this world, and glowing with icy sterile lights that burned brighter through the boy’s unshed tears.

        He’s not dead... He’s not dead... He’s not dead...

        Peter could run. He could turn and run from the swinging double doors and take the elevator back up, go back to the waiting room and wait for Arthur like he promised

        Leviticus twenty verse thirteen! SAY IT!

        This was a mistake. Peter didn’t need to be here. He knew Eddie was alive, he knew that Eddie was going to live a long life full of love and cherishing because Eddie was a good person, Eddie was kind, Eddie was fun, Eddie’s God was a benevolent one that made no mistakes. Eddie was not a mistake. Peter was not a mistake.

        They were not sinners who deserved to be punished, because Eddie said so.

        But they pulled the white sheet down, and Tom squeezed Peter’s shoulder, and Peter drowned.

        This was not the Eddie whose dark skin had an angel-kissed warmth

        The cold clutched him and dragged him down

        and thick lips held vibrant life. His closed eyelids seemed so bare without the thick lashes

        I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!

        to fan them, his cheek bones not so high with the blood drained away. Where was his laugh? His belly-deep laugh where he threw his head back and

        He clawed his way back up, choking and coughing and

        pressed a manicured hand to his chest? This was not the queen who dominated the stage in trailing gowns that dazzled with jewels like she was

        She pulled him back up, eyes distant and glazed over with drink. “Leviticus twenty verse thirteen! SAY IT!”

      the goddess of rain and dewy mornings who swayed her hips and belt and crooned and made even the most sugary pop songs sound like love letters and Peter couldn’t breathe.

      “Peter?” Tom started to pull Peter away. “Son, are you okay? Peter!”

      He couldn’t breathe. Antiseptic stung his nose, filled his chest with acidic poison that curdled his stomach. Still, he gulped down air, shallow and stringent, the lights above him so blinding and so sterile and flashing and swimming around him as he swayed on his feet. He reached out, grabbing for Tom, twisting the gown until it ripped when he feel and still held onto it because he was drowning. He was seeing beady green eyes, rimmed with red and glazed over with drink

        “Peter!”

        and his body locked, shivering with cold, as a thick hand pressed into his chest and pushed down and down and lips leaned close to his ear.

        What did I tell you, you little queer? Lisette hissed.

        He screamed. He screamed and threw himself about, calling out to a dead man, Eddie’s dead, Eddie was dead and he was a liar and a sodomite and Lisette was right!

        “Peter, stop!”

        He kicked and thrashed about as he drowned

        “Don’t just stand there, help me!”

        “Get him out of here!”

        “I knew this was a bad idea!”

        “I’m calling security!”

        He screamed until he choked on cleaners and water that wasn’t there but pulled him under all the same. Eddie was a liar. He was a liar, he looked right into Peter’s eyes and lied to him and Lisette wouldn’t stop cackling with her sour alcohol breath and the Bible verses that dripped from her tongue like venom and burned Peter’s blood.

        He screamed into Tom’s chest as Tom pressed his face close. He screamed as the world split. He screamed as Tom rocked him and a nurse hurried into the waiting room demanding to know what the hell was the noise was and

        “Peter?!”

        Peter jerked his head up, his scream dying in his aching throat. Arthur stood in the doorway, tugging his mask down as his eyes jumped from Peter’s shaking body to the man whose lap Peter curled up on. The world split further, twisting and fuzzing and going light, then dark, so, so dark and sharp as Arthur’s voice faded out and Peter looked around to see who was responsible. Someone was responsible, maybe one of these queers, maybe the very one whose lap Peter rested on. But they were still humans, with their bones easy to snap and their hearts fragile and what was it that Arthur said?

        You have to be careful with humans, Peter. They don’t come back to life like us.

        In this mad, distorted, cold, lonely world, Peter found the one responsible.

        He leapt out of Tom’s arms.

        Too late, Arthur stumbled back, eyes popping open wider and his arms flinging out in front of him. “Peter, wait!”

        And he crashed into Arthur.

        He thrashed and kicked his limbs to stay above water, to punish this man who let it happen. Who let it all happen. He kicked and punch and screamed louder than Arthur screamed, throwing his fists into Arthur’s chest where bones cracked, into Arthur’s throat where a burst vein bloomed red against his neck, into his jaw where teeth flew out and scattered across the hospital.

        “Jesus Christ, get that kid off him!”

        “PETER, STOP!”

         Men piled on him, grabbing him and wrapping their arms around him and pulling this child who they could have sworn looked lighter than he felt, calling in more help as Peter ripped himself away and lunged after the gasping man on the ground twisting and wheezing for air. How dare Arthur do this to him?! How dare Arthur abandoned them all like this?!

        What about Georgie--

[tripleaxeldiaz]

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 3/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

The two weeks before Skate America breeze by, every hour filled with skating or conditioning or trying not to creep on message boards to see what people are predicting for the season. Buck feels good, the best he’s ever felt this early on. He tries to reign it in, that voice in his head reminding him that he could still lose it all at any moment, but it’s muffled and quiet and easy to ignore.

He’s also been seeing more of Eddie, now that he knows he’s not the douchebag he always assumed he was. They condition together, watch each other's jumping passes and offer tips, even take their lunch break together, talking about everything skating and some non skating things too. It’s easy and nice and the best parts of Buck’s days, if he’s honest. He maybe always thinks about talking to Eddie, picking his brain for his thoughts on various skaters’ programs, watching him laugh with his whole body at some snarky comment Buck makes about someone’s horrible choice in costume. Buck likes the way he laughs, likes the way he feels a little warmer when he makes him laugh.

He should have known this brief bubble of happiness would be popped sooner rather than later.

The day before they leave, he and Maddie get an email — an email — from their mother, inviting them to dinner while they’re in town for the competition. To say Buck’s surprised would be an understatement.

“How’d they even find out it’s in Reading this year? Did you tell them?”

Maddie rolls her eyes, stabbing her salad with a little more force than necessary. “I haven’t spoken to them in longer than you have, so no. They’ve probably seen ads or something.”

“We could lie, tell them Bobby’s really strict about non-skating things during competitions?”

“Sure, but then they might just call Bobby on their own and blow our whole cover.”

“We could tell them we’re sick? Food poisoning? Then miraculously get better?”

“If that didn’t work when you tried to get out of taking your SAT, I don’t think it’ll work this time, either.”

“I wasn’t even planning on going to college, why did I—” Buck huffs as Maddie shakes her head at him sympathetically.

There’s really no way for them to get out of this.

The thing is, their parents aren’t bad people — a doctor and a PR manager who are on every non-profit board in the county, volunteer at the local animal shelter, and donate plenty of money to plenty of charities. As parents, though, they somehow manage an interesting balance of using their children’s successes for their own bragging rights and making them feel like they’re always just shy of good enough. They supported them growing up, sure, paid their way through lessons and competitions before endorsements started coming in, but it always felt like it was serving their own clout more than helping Buck and Maddie follow their dreams. When they moved out to LA, it was easy to distance themselves, rescheduling calls indefinitely until their parents eventually just stopped trying. 

The last time Buck talked to them was right after his leg surgery — they called under the guise of “checking in on him”, but spent most of the call figuring out the quickest way to get him back to practice, offering to pay for extra surgeries and PT to speed up the process. He’s sure they thought they were helping, but it felt more like they were eager for him to get back to winning medals so they could tell their friends about it. 

As much as he loves to win, it’s not the same when someone else is pushing you more than you’re pushing yourself. 

He sighs again, slumping down in his chair. He hadn’t been nervous at all about Skate America, but now the itch of self doubt has made a home right under his skin, and it wasn’t even for a skating reason. Maddie reaches across the table to grab his wrist, squeezing lightly. 

“It’ll be two hours max, then we’ll make an excuse about early practice and leave. It won’t be that bad.”

Buck nods, turning back to his lunch, suddenly not hungry as his stomach continues to churn.

~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t expect to get this nostalgic, but the familiar drive toward Reading and the Sovereign Center (Santander Arena now, because capitalism is a prison) fills him with jittery excitement and a weird sense of calm, just like it did when he was a kid competing in the regional circuit. The arena was a palace compared to their rink in Hershey, and it always made him want to skate well enough to be worthy of the ice there. It’s where he won his first medal ever, his first gold, his first trip to Nationals, and would hopefully now serve as a stepping stone once again, this time leading him towards Beijing.

Eddie’s lounging on his bed, shirtless and flipping channels, when Buck gets to their room. It wasn’t a surprise this time — they’d requested to room together anyway — but seeing Eddie like this, soft and relaxed and somehow at home in a hotel room, makes Buck’s heart flip a little bit. 

Buck’s heart has been flipping a lot around Eddie, and making him think about stupid things like kissing him and how his abs would feel under his fingertips and how he’d prefer his eggs in the morning. It’s taking up a lot of real estate in his brain, and it’s going to get even worse now that they’re sleeping 10 feet away from each other, he’s sure.

That doesn’t stop him from sneaking glances at Eddie while he unpacks. Just to get it out of his system so he can focus. 

It’s fine.

He can totally handle this.

~~~~~~~~~~

Skata America is a much bigger deal than ACI — more cameras, more interviews, more people watching in the stands and on TV. That should mean it’s all more intimidating, too, but Buck is thriving under the lights and camera lenses. This will be the first real chance to show people — not just skating people, but everyone — what he can do, and the anticipation of how it will be received buzzes through him constantly. That buzz practically dictates his every move through practices and his short, finally ceasing as he hits his final pose. It’s quickly replaced by elation — he knows he nailed everything, he knows the resounding applause is deserved.

He knows he’s in first place before they even announce his score.

When they do, he’s right, and he’s thrilled, but there’s also a pang of disappointment, because the margin is tight — only three points between him and Eddie in second. Bobby hands him his protocols in the green room, and his stomach clenches when he sees that his step sequence and his sit spin were downgraded to level threes. His brain starts spinning, mentally combing through every revolution and edge to figure out where the hell he fucked up, when he feels a warm, solid hand on his shoulder. He looks up and sees Eddie, but instead of pity like he expected (or gloating like he feared), he just sees understanding in his eyes, maybe even a hint of the same irritation he’s feeling.

“They screwed me over too, my camel should have had a plus three GOE at least.” Eddie says, squeezing Buck’s shoulder. Somehow, he’s already feeling better.

“I bet it was the French judge, he’s always been a conniving bastard.”

“We could take him out, we have time before tomorrow.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Buck says, as Eddie offers his hand and pulls him up to stand. He tries not to miss the warmth when he lets go.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie says quietly as they make their way around skaters and coaches in the hallway toward the press room, “I think you should be at least 10 points ahead, if not more. You were something else out there.”

Buck can’t make his brain come up with a proper response by the time they take their seats on the makeshift stage in front of the reports, so all he can do is smile and hope it comes across as totally chill and not as dopey as it feels.

Eddie smiles back, and Buck thinks he’s beautiful.

The presser goes just as expected — a few questions lobbed at the Candian skater currently in third, more for Buck since he’s in first, but the most still go to Eddie. Being the favorite for Olympic gold doesn’t go away after half a competition, and the reporters are rabid as ever. Buck’s seen Eddie’s press routine — the humble charm and gracious smiles, cracking jokes like he’s talking to friends and not a bunch of strangers with tape recorders. He’d spent years mentally rolling his eyes at what he thought was the fakeness of it all, but after getting closer to Eddie, he knows that’s just how Eddie is. Kind and patient, actively listening to what people are saying, taking his time to form thoughtful answers. 

But whatever’s happening now is not the Eddie he knows — his laughs are forced and almost too loud, his smile is tight and boarding on a grimace. He keeps fidgeting with his credentials and the sleeve of his Team USA zip-up, eyes darting around like he’s charting his path to get out of the room as fast as possible once they’re done. 

He’s nervous. Buck doesn’t think he’s ever seen him nervous, at least not like this, and it’s honestly a little unsettling. So much so that all Buck wants to do is fix it, bring the light back to Eddie’s eyes, bleed the tension out of his shoulders.

There’s probably not an easy way to do that while answering questions about his performance.

He waits until he sees the “wrap it up” signal from the event worker off to the side, the next reporter giving one last question to the Canadian skater. He doesn’t think about it too hard, just stretches his leg a little to the right, slowly, until he and Eddie are ankle to ankle. It’s not much, but Eddie still looks over at him, first confused and then grateful, a small, real smile on his face, his shoulders falling away from his ears.

Eddie’s quiet on the ride back to the hotel, but he looks calmer, listening to everyone else talk about their events and what could happen tomorrow during free skates. He’s still jittery though, leg bouncing as he sits next to Buck on the bus. Whatever was bothering him during interviews is clearly still lingering, and Buck has to fight the urge to reach out and calm his shaking with a hand on his knee. 

They make it back to their room, door barely clicking in place behind them, before Buck breaks.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Eddie freezes in front of him, half turned around like he was about to ask Buck something before he steamrolled over him. “You seemed stressed during the presser and on the ride back, and I just...wanted to make sure you’re good.”

Eddie looks stunned for a second before letting out a breath, hand rubbing over his face. “I knew this would happen, you know? The extra attention. It happened after Pyeongchang and the bronze medal, but it died down eventually. I thought I’d have more time to mentally prepare for it again, I guess.” He shakes his head, hand falling to his side as he shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “Today was just a lot.”

Buck nods, patting Eddie’s arm in understanding because he gets it. Most of the time he basks in any form of attention, but some days the lights are too hot and the voices are too loud and faking a smile through it is impossible. The one Buck sees now is real though, he knows it, and he’s happy to see Eddie relaxing now that they’re away from the vultures.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ll be out of your hair tonight, so you’ll have plenty of time to yourself,” Buck says, crossing the room to his bed, digging through his bag for his dinner clothes.

“Where are you going?” Eddie asks, and when Buck looks back at him as he heads to the bathroom to change, he swears he looks disappointed, briefly, before it shifts to confusion. “We don’t have any team stuff tonight, right?”

“Nah, Maddie and I got suckered into dinner with our parents.”

“Are Buckley family dinners always black tie affairs?” he asks when Buck comes back in slacks and a white button down, struggling to knot his tie. 

“No, but they told us to dress nicely, so we’re probably going to some fancy restaurant downtown. Knowing them, we’ll also be dragged to some party one of their friends is having that’s conveniently close by.”

He groans in frustration when his tie comes out crooked again, and Eddie laughs, taking pity on him and coming to do it himself. Buck tries to keep cool, willing his cheeks not to turn red, but it’s hard when he can feel Eddie’s breath on his chin, feel his fingers run across his collarbones, and he’s so close, if he just leaned in— 

“Sounds like it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Buck sighs through his nose. “I love my parents, they’re just...better from a distance.”

Eddie winces in what looks like sympathy, smoothing Buck’s tie and the front of his shirt as he finishes. Buck misses the motion as soon as it’s gone.

“Maybe they’ll prove you wrong this time,” Eddie says.

Buck rolls his eyes at that, but can’t help a small part of him desperately hoping that Eddie will be right.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie is so wrong.

Not only is there a party, it’s a party at their parent’s house, which is in full swing by the time Buck and Maddie pull up in their Lyft. Their mother opens the door, hair up, dress immaculate, lipstick-stained wine glass perched precariously in her hand.

“Evan! Maddie! Come in, so glad you could join us!” She kisses both their cheeks and hugs them quickly before taking their hands and dragging them deeper into the house. There are people everywhere, some faces Buck remembers and some new ones. There are waiters milling around too, passing bacon wrapped figs and mini bruschetta, and Buck feels his stomach rumble.

“So I guess we’re not doing dinner, huh Mom?” Buck asks, trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. Judging by the look Maddie gives him, he’s not doing a great job.

Their mother, of course, doesn’t bat an eye. “Sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t realize we were double booked, and we’d already moved this party once. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen though, you can eat after I’ve introduced you to some people. Everyone’s so excited to hear about how you’re doing. Philip, there you are!” Buck spots his father too, a head above the crowd, tie loose and cheeks flushed. He shakes Buck’s hand firmly, kisses Maddie on the top of her head, and is gone in an instant when someone beckons him towards the bar set up on the back wall of the living room.

“Nice to see you, too. We’re doing fine, thanks for asking!” Buck says under his breath before their mother is whisking them away again. 

They spend the next hour flitting between couples — the Whiteheads, the Culls, the Carters, and a bunch of others he can’t differentiate — getting whiplash from their mother’s flipping between actual praise and backhanded compliments.

“Evan’s one of the top skaters in the country, though not as highly ranked as he was before his accident. We’re hoping he’ll be back up there by the time the Olympics roll around so he’ll make the team.”

“Maddie’s been with her partner for about three years now, right darling? They don’t have as many golds as she had with Doug, but they do skate well together.”

“Yes, that skater from Japan is very good Rebecca, you’re right! Evan, do you know him? Maybe he can give you some pointers about your edges going into your spins? I know you struggle with those.”

On and on and on, Buck and Maddie barely able to get a word in. They see their father only a few times, and each time he’s gone as quickly as he comes, pulled away by colleagues or board members or whoever it is they’re entertaining tonight. Buck is exhausted, and not just because it’s been a long day already, but from having to keep up the good natured laughs and graciousness when he doesn’t even feel like a person. He feels more like a trophy, being shuttled from room to room to be admired for a while before being shoved into a closet where no one can see you. Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen — their parents will tout them around for the night, send them back to the hotel, and not speak to them again until they need something.

Buck really forgot just how small this big house can make him feel.

Eventually, he breaks away, making an excuse about needing the restroom before quietly sneaking up the back staircase to the second floor. Maddie finds him 15 minutes later, sliding down to sit next to him in the guest room closet.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” she says, and Buck smiles weakly. He hid in here a lot when he was a kid, sometimes with Maddie and sometimes alone. When it was all too much — the pressure from their parents or his coach or himself — this is where he came to quiet his brain. The darkness and the smell of the cedar chest full of their mother’s old sweaters was comforting, and it wrapped around him like a blanket until he could breathe again. 

“None of their habits have died, that’s for sure,” he says. “Is it sad that I thought they would?”

“It’s not sad to hope for better. It’s just hard when all that hope is for nothing.”

Buck sighs, head thumping against the wall. Maddie threads her arm through his and rests her head on his shoulder. They sit like that for a while, quiet, both in their own heads, though he’s sure Maddie is thinking about and wishing for the same things he is. 

He shifts eventually, head resting on top of hers. “Can we go yet? We could probably sneak out the back door. If they haven’t come looking for us yet, they definitely won’t notice.”

“Should we just go back to the hotel? It’s only 8:30.”

“What else are we gonna do?”

Maddie types furiously on her phone for a minute. “Chim, Hen, and May are down to hang out. And WhirlyDome is open until midnight.”

“That place is still around?”

“Apparently, and they have half price appetizers after 9.”

The thought of mozzarella sticks and onion rings makes his stomach growl loudly again. “Alright, let’s do it. But I’m inviting Eddie too.”

Maddie just smirks at him, getting up and out of the closet before he has a chance to ask what the look was for. 

It would just be rude not to invite him.

And maybe part of Buck wishes he had stayed in with Eddie tonight from the start.

[to: Eddie] tonight sucked. we’re going to play whirlyball and eat fried food. u in?

[from: Eddie] ????? What the hell is whirlyball?

[to: Eddie] omg now u HAVE to come. meet us here in half an hour

He sends the address and does not smile like an idiot when Eddie says he’ll see him soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So it’s...bumper cars?”

“Bumper cars plus lacrosse plus basketball, kind of. It’s super fun and only a little dangerous.”

“Can I watch for a bit first?”

“Sorry Eds, first timers have to play. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Eddie still looks skeptical as they get ready for the next game, carefully sitting in the car and picking up his scoop. 

A bell rings and the cars come to life, rumbling around the room as everyone starts scrambling for the ball. It takes about 30 seconds for Eddie to get the hang of steering, and by the end of the first game, no one would ever guess he’d never played before. He leads their team to three victories in a row, laughing and cheering loudly along with everyone else, like he hadn’t been overwhelmed with anxiety just a few hours earlier. Something warms in Buck at the thought that he helped with that smile, and it’s a feeling he thinks he could get used to, a job he wouldn’t mind having if it meant Eddie was this happy more often than not.

Despite it all — despite good friends and good food and the feeling of Eddie’s shoulder pressed against his, Buck still feels the tendrils of doubt and panic floating around him. They’re bad enough during competitions normally, but pair them with what happened at his parents’ house — being reminded of how he’ll never live up to their lofty image of him, even if he does make it to Beijing — and everything just feels dark and cold, and he doesn’t think his lungs are working properly. He leaves the table, says he’s going to the bathroom, but ends up outside instead. WhirlyDome is in the older half of a shopping center in downtown Hershey, and the outside has been renovated since he was last here, now featuring an elaborate fountain surrounded by benches and newly paved pathways to the other stores. He sinks down on the nearest bench, the cool October air grounding him, making it easier to think, easier to try and smash down all these swirling emotions he’s trying not to feel.

Eddie finds him there, sits down next to him on the bench without saying anything. They stay in companionable silence, watching the fountain dance and the people bustle back and forth across the plaza, getting last minute shopping in before the stores close.

“I’m sorry dinner sucked,” Eddie says eventually, quiet and sincere. 

Buck shrugs. “I knew it would. Just got my hopes up too high that things would be different.”

Eddie nods, eyes drifting back to the fountain. Now that they’re alone and the excitement from the games is gone, he can see the slightly weary lines of Eddie’s shoulders, see how he’s still curling in on himself, like he’s trying to escape into his own body.

“How are you?” Buck asks, knocking his knee against Eddie’s gently. “I know this isn’t exactly a quiet night in.”

“I’m alright. Better than I would be, thanks to you.”

“What did I do?”

Eddie’s staring at the ground, but his cheeks are flushing pink, and Buck wants to reach out and feel the heat of them under his fingertips.

“You were there,” he says. “I’m usually alone when I start feeling like that, and nothing makes it better. But I wasn’t alone this time.”

I don’t want you to be alone, Buck thinks, and these thoughts he’s been having — about Eddie, about being with Eddie — are getting louder and louder and harder to ignore. Especially now, when it’s just the two of them, and Eddie’s eyes are sparkling like gems under the street lights. 

It’s almost hilarious that barely six weeks ago, and for 10 very long years, he could hardly stand the sight of him.

Eddie finally looks up from the ground, facing Buck, and they’re so much closer than he thought they were. He can count every eyelash, smell his cologne, watch his eyes trace over Buck’s face, from his eye to his lips and back again.

Buck doesn’t even realize he’s leaning in until his vision starts to blur, and he stops short. He tries to move back slowly, casually, but then firm hands are cupping his jaw, pulling him forward until soft lips meet his own. There’s no fireworks, no angels singing, just warm molasses in his veins, spreading to every part of him until he’s so warm he’s certain he must be glowing. His hands twist into Eddie’s jacket, pulling him as close as possible until he’s practically in his lap. They move to his shirt, feeling the abs he’s been thinking about for weeks now, and he almost melts right to the ground at the sound Eddie sighs into his mouth. 

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but it doesn’t feel like long enough by the time they come up for air. He doesn’t go far, still close enough to feel Eddie’s breath fan across his lips, but he’s not sure what to do now. He wants to know what this means (if it means anything at all), he wants to know what Eddie’s thinking, he wants to memorize the way Eddie tastes and feel his abs for real.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, making them both jump. It’s a text from Maddie, telling him they’re car is here and asking where the hell they went. He looks back at Eddie, still so close, and swallows down the urge to kiss him again and tell his friends to leave them here.

“We should— we have to go,” he says, gesturing toward the parking lot. Eddie’s eyes are flitting over his face again, unreadable but still bright. He nods finally, standing up and offering his hand to Buck. He can’t fight the smile or the blush that he feels, so he doesn’t, taking Eddie’s hand to help him stand. They stay put for a minute, until Eddie squeezes his hand and drops it, smiling that soft smile again as he turns away. 

Buck smiles himself, still full of warmth and lips still tingling, before following Eddie to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back is quiet, everyone tired and settling back into the competition mindset they were able to let go of for a few hours. Buck feels it too, already running step sequences in his head again, but he keeps getting distracted. Eddie’s sitting next to him in the back seat of the Lyft, head tipped back and eyes closed, looking at peace for the first time all day. Buck tries to stop, tries to keep his focus, but his eyes keep drifting back to Eddie’s jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, the stubble shadowing his cheeks. It’s hard to remember what edges he’s supposed to hit tomorrow when he keeps thinking about how that stubble felt under his lips.

They silently make their way back to their room, and Buck knows they need to talk. He’s trying to figure out where the hell to start as he turns on the light in the small entryway, illuminating everything in a light that feels too harsh for whatever is currently simmering between them. Eddie’s right behind him when he turns around, looking just as unsure as Buck feels. It’s comforting, them being on the same page, but Buck hates that he’s responsible for making Eddie feel like this.

He can’t figure out where to start, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tries to figure out what to say. Eddie takes pity on him eventually, reaching for his hand again.

“Let’s talk tomorrow?” he asks. “After free skates.”

It’s an out that Buck is more than willing to take. Not that he doesn’t want to talk, he just...can’t. Not right now. So he nods, squeezing Eddie’s hand in thanks. He goes to pull away, but Eddie’s grip stays firm.

“It wasn’t nothing to me,” he says, tilting his head until Buck meets his eye. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing or what it meant for you, but it was something for me.”

Buck’s doesn’t know what to do with that, either. He wants to kiss Eddie again and he wants to run far away from him and he wants to skate, but he can’t until the morning. So he just nods again, and it seems to be enough. Eddie nods back, finally dropping his hand as he heads into the bathroom and shuts the door. 

Buck doesn’t bother waiting for his turn, just strips out of his dress clothes and crawls into bed. He falls asleep fast, dreams of brown eyes and triple axels — taking off, rising, and falling, falling, falling…

~~~~~~~~~~

He knows he’s falling before his ass hits the ice.

It was inevitably, really — he felt like he was fighting himself through the entire program, trying to keep it from completely unraveling. He knows that to anyone else, any casual fan and even some analysts, he looked good, strong, put together right until the end. But he knows that this isn’t his best. And this fall is definitely going to cost him.

He recovers quickly, finishing the rest of the program as close to perfectly as he can manage. He smiles and bows, waves to his friends in the stands, tries to pretend like he’s okay with knowing that he’s definitely not winning this gold. 

It’s his own fault. He’d let his parents worm their way into his brain again, amplifying the self doubt that was already lingering, making him second guess every move, even the things he knows are good. Pair that with the fact that he can’t stop thinking about Eddie — not just the kiss, but his smile as he took the ice, his effortless jumps — and it was a miracle he only fell once.

He takes silver, four points behind Eddie’s gold. The fact that it was that fall that did him in stings worse than anything.

At the medal ceremony, he catches Eddie’s eye for the first time all day on the podium, and surprises himself with the genuine smile he gives him. It’s certainly not Eddie’s fault, what happened today — he didn’t ask to take up most of Buck’s thoughts, Buck let that happen. And if he keeps letting it happen, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to skate clean again.

He knows they still need to talk, and he knows exactly what he needs to say, but he really doesn’t want to say it. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to say anything right away. Eddie disappears after the presser and doesn’t join him and May in the stands for the free dance. Buck tries to ignore the empty seat next to him, but it’s harder than usual.

They have a late flight back to LA, and Eddie’s already packed but the time Buck makes it back to the room. They stand across from each other in the entryway, just like last night, but the tension in the air feels wary under Buck’s skin instead of hopeful.

“You were amazing today,” Buck blurts out, not at all how he wanted to start this conversation. It’s worth it, though, for the smile and blush he gets from Eddie.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes on the floor. “So were you.”

Jesus, just tell him, Buck thinks, and he squares his shoulders like he’s preparing for a fight.

“It was something for me, too,” he says softly. “Yesterday, it— it definitely wasn’t nothing.”

Eddie looks at him, waiting, and Buck hesitates.

He really, really doesn’t want to say it.

“But?” Eddie prompts, because of course he knows there’s more.

“But,” Buck sighs. “But I can’t— We should wait. Until after the Olympics. I don’t think either of us want to be too distracted before then, and I don’t know if you know this, but you are very...very distracting.” Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes, and Buck lets his gaze rake over Eddie from top to bottom, distracting himself for just a little bit longer.

“You’re right,” Eddie says quietly. “Let’s wait. And I’ll try and be less distracting, so I can keep kicking your ass fair and square.”

“Oh really?” Buck laughs, and Eddie’s laughing too, and it feels good and normal and Buck doesn’t want it to stop. But it has to. Because as much as Buck wants to dive deeper into this...whatever this is with Eddie, he wants to win more. Not much more (which is a thought he never expected to have about anyone), but definitely more. 

And if anyone in the world understands that feeling, it’s Eddie.

There’s a knock on the door, Bobby giving them a 15 minute warning before they’re supposed to head to the airport. Buck moves to head toward his things so he can pack, but Eddie grabs his arm before he can go too far. His eyes look soft and sad and hopeful and a million other things Buck is feeling too, and he just wants to drown in them, in this moment, before he has to go back out into the world, alone.

Eddie leans forward, softly kissing Buck’s cheek, lingering in his space before he heads out of the room, door quietly shutting behind him.