1 - 20 of 85 Works by jaekyu
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It was once impossible for Eddie to swing so close to the sun. Now, suddenly, he finds himself craving the warmth. He wants to dig deep, commit to these thoughts and their natural conclusion beyond the single apple bite. It’s a softer reality now — not cruel, not scary, easier to swallow — and it’s happened almost overnight. When exactly did Eddie become capable of such a thing? He can’t be sure. Maybe it was just that he was getting older. Maybe he was becoming more comfortable living the life he had built for himself with love and care and people who dispensed those feelings back to him, people who never judged him too harshly. Maybe it was merely a case of checks and balances; the freedom of knowing that once everything is gone there will be nothing much left to lose.
Whatever the reason for this revelation, it hardly matters. The wingspan of Eddie’s longing broadens with his search. And before Icarus ever fell, at least he flew.
Salvation comes for Eddie in the form of a misplaced camisole, a forgotten tube of lip gloss and a gay cowboy bar called Butch & Sundance. The rest is fundamental.
(OR: It's hot in Texas. It's always been hot in Texas.)
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“You—you saved me,” he says, leaning forward to touch the jut of Buck’s elbow. Buck’s eyes flick to him, fast and predatory, from the corner of his vision. “How did you know where I was?”
Buck scoffs. “Because I could smell it on you, Eddie,” he explains. “Three weeks ago you walked into the station smelling like iron and moss. Like wet stone. Humans don’t smell that way on their own.”
Humans. Buck says it like he doesn’t count himself among them. What would he call himself, then? Eddie finds himself too nervous to ask. “So you… you followed me?”
Buck doesn’t respond, but his gaze remains fixed and pointed, his mouth pressed into a firm line. Finally, after what feels like forever, he says, “you don’t understand what you are.”
Eddie swallows. It’s an eerily similar sentiment to the one Alex had made, just before he had sunk his teeth into Eddie’s warm and waiting flesh. In all my years on this earth, I never imagined I’d find a jewel as rare as you.
Series
- Part 3 of A Fright Night! Triple Feature
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Captain Buckley’s face creases, his expression disfavourable. “I’m, uh, not really into the whole Sir thing,” he tells Eddie, scratching along the slope of his grey-stubbled chin. “Still getting used to being called Cap, if I’m being honest. Most people here just call me Buck.”
“Buck?” Eddie repeats the name with the intonation of a question.
“There were three other Evans in my class at the Academy,” Captain Buckley explains, shrugging casually with the huge mountain range of his wide, wide shoulders. “Even after all these years, it’s managed to stick.”
OR: Eddie's probationary firefighter year at the 118, under the watchful eye and expert tutelage of Fire Captain Evan Buckley.
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Observation. Buck is so anticipatory of Eddie’s needs, so beholden to his wants, that it is no longer a conscious function of his brain. This is a problem, because Eddie has expressed a desire to be denied. And as of right now, to Buck’s brain, that simply does not compute.
Question. Is there hope for Buck to deconstruct his own conditioning enough to return these functions to his more cognizant brain?
Hypothesis. Maybe, if Buck practices denying Eddie the little things he wants, he can take these honed skills and apply them. And maybe then, he'll be able to get Eddie to that place where he really wants to go.
*
or: Evan Buckley attempts to edge his boyfriend, with varying levels of success.
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For the last several months, Eddie has been working on dismantling the self-erected barriers about what he believes he does, and does not, deserve. He’s been attempting to teach himself it is unnecessary to sip joy from the cup like it’s a finite resource; that he can swallow it in huge mouthfuls, that he can drain the cup until it’s completely empty; that all that happens under those circumstances is the creation of more space, more space for the joy to flood in and fill up, again and again.
It’s a tricky balance. Some experiments are more successful than others.
Series
- Part 6 of #EGFH
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Eddie doesn’t just wake up in Buck’s bed. Eddie wakes up in Buck’s body.
The universe was always going to find a way to stitch them back together.
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Surprise is born from the lack of foresight to anticipate the sharp turn. Buck takes a step back, knocking into the cabinets behind him. Eddie follows. The world doesn’t stop. It never does. Eddie learnt that lesson a long time ago.
The moment between Buck and Eddie in the kitchen breaks its shape.
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“Thought you’d say that, baby. No one else knows all the nasty shit you like better than me anyway,” Eddie feels his cheeks heat. It is worth mentioning, perhaps, that they’ve done a lot of work to make that list of things they don’t like; it remains quite short regardless. “Maybe I could show you off, though?”
Ugghhhh, Eddie’s mind goes static, his ears buzzing. He doesn’t realize he’s made the noise audibly until Buck is commenting on it.
“Oh? Do you like that idea, Eddie?” He asks, teasing and mean but good-natured about it. He only does it because it’s so fun. For both of them. “We could show everybody how good of a slut you are for me. You think you’d be into that? Let someone else watch me fuck you until you’re losing your mind, until the only word you know is my name? Oh, baby, they’d be so jealous of me. They’d want a piece of you so bad. But you’re all mine, huh? You’d never be this big of a cockslut for anyone else.”
*
OR: Just us, and the cameras, and those wonderful people out there in the dark! All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up.
Series
- Part 1 of wet & wilder
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The first time Eddie brings something back, he is eleven years old, and it is his best friend.
(Or: raising the dead as a metaphor for being gay, and how Eddie learned the only person from whom he needed to ask forgiveness was himself.)
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Eddie flinches back without meaning, afraid of the tailspin Buck’s touch might induce. Buck’s face falls, dejected, and Eddie speaks hastily in damage control. “I’m in heat,” he gets straight to the point. “I don’t know—I’ve been so stressed out lately—and today, when you—fuck, I feel so stupid and embarrassed but I’m—I’m in heat, Buck. Right now.”
Buck blinks twice, mouth pressed in a thin line and his brow furrowed, until all of a sudden it dawns on him. “Wait,” he says, throwing his hands up, palms out, between them, “right now?!”
*
After stress throws off his cycle, Eddie goes into heat unexpectedly. He and Buck have no choice but to navigate the circumstances, and perhaps revisit some questions left previously unanswered.
Series
- Part 2 of all fired up
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She likes that word: fleeting. It feels important, but not too permanent.
Above all else, Samira values proof-of-concept. It's winter in Pittsburgh. She walks home from the hospital most nights. She thinks of Doctor Abbot often. She only sees him outside of work once.
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Omegas don’t know embarrassment. They don’t process shame. And where alphas are more territorial, omegas are nesters, protective of their spaces because of what it means to allow someone in. It doesn’t matter that Eddie and Buck swore no oaths, and thus there was nothing to be broken in the first place. The animal under Eddie’s skin, the one that possesses an undue amount of influence over him, doesn’t much care. Because Buck is an alpha, and Eddie is an omega, and they’re designations respond to each other first and foremost, bone-deep and strong and long before anything else.
Eddie comes home. Eddie moves in with Buck. Buck and Eddie are friends. Despite any, and all, of the evidence to the contrary.
Series
- Part 1 of all fired up
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I had a dream that you ate me. Eddie tries to extricate the deeper meaning present in a motif.
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Eddie’s never seen Buck this way, chained up by a body that won’t do as he says. He’s still caressing his fingers through Buck’s hair and across his scalp; feels dampness along the surface of his forehead, takes in the flush of his cheeks and nose, the soft surrender of his slightly open mouth. There’s no real danger present, and Buck will feel fine in a few hours, but right now--right now, he is beautiful and asthenic, and Eddie can’t help but feel privileged.
(You need to settle down a little. or: Eddie poisons Buck, and other acts of radical devotion.)
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Imagine a huge city skyline. Imagine the flat, cracked earth of the desert. Imagine drowning on dry land. Imagine a wound in your abdomen the size of a fist. Imagine it untreated and scabbed over. Imagine a red the colour of blood. Imagine a green the colour of rot. Imagine the last flower on the vine. Imagine trying to touch someone and falling right through them. Imagine not knowing what’s wrong with you. Imagine searching your body, pressing your hands against wide open plains of flesh, and not finding a way in. Imagine not knowing what’s wrong. Imagine not knowing how to fix it.
Imagine the moon big and bright in the sky. Imagine you, here, stranded beneath it.
*
Through the looking glass: Eddie slips between the seams of the universe. Eddie begs on hands and knees. Eddie attempts to learn his lesson.
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“Because I think it would be hot,” Buck responds. Eddie can picture him, leaning against the red bricks around the back of the firehouse. It’s where Eddie would hide, sometimes, so he could call Christopher. Before he came to El Paso, after it started to embarrass him how much he’d call and receive no answer. Eddie imagines the sun shining down on Buck, his ankles crossed and his hips tilted away from the wall behind him. Maybe a hand in his pocket. So nonchalant, as he asks about it. “It would be hot if you did it just because I asked you.”
They travel the length of space and time between Point A and Point B; Buck and Eddie, over the phone, and Buck and Eddie, in person.
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Eddie imagines it. The faux-domesticity of grocery shopping with his best friend and full-time fuckbuddy, filled up with come like a jam donut or something. It would be kind of ironic. It would be definitely, wholeheartedly, totally erotic.
It would blur the lines. But they’re always blurring the lines, aren’t they? Maybe they aren’t lines anymore so much as they are smears of fake boundaries long forgotten, abandoned in favour of more careless endeavours. They play fast and loose with this shit all the time. Who cares, when Buck is looking at Eddie like that? When all he’s asking to do is give Eddie everything he’s ever wanted?
*
Buck and Eddie run some errands.
Series
- Part 3 of #EGFH
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Eddie and Buck get trapped in a closet. There's a joke in here somewhere.
Series
- Part 2 of #EGFH
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Eddie’s been waiting for months. He can wait a little bit longer.
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It takes days for Buck to decide what he’s going to say.
You didn’t even let me say goodbye.
It takes two months for him to get a reply.
I’m sorry.
I hope you can still forgive me.
Buck knows he can; it’s as simple as breathing, as inevitable as the beating of his heart. His body would lead him to it even without his permission. It’ll go on forever until it doesn’t and by then it won’t matter to him, because he’ll be dead.
*
Eddie leaves. Buck visits him in El Paso.