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After the lightening strike, Buck walks with this...air about him.
He’s not certain that's how he would describe it, but Eddie says the words when Buck can’t find any of his own, so he’s going with that. It's this feeling that's so deep inside him it affects his gait, sometimes bopping around his chest or extremities but mostly sloshing around in his guts. Hidden behind them, almost, like its lurking in any corner of him not made of organ or muscle, waiting for the right time to start snaking around his heart and collapse him inward.
Maddie tells him it might be dread, existentialism brought to the forefront of his conscious and sitting on him like a rock on account of the whole dying for 3 minutes and 17 seconds thing. Suggests therapy - nada. Tommy says it might be part of finding himself, the way the feelings turn him sour when their skin slides together too long. Suggests spending time in instead of out - his insides vibrate maliciously at the idea, and then that ends. Hen says it sounds like cramps, after she's woken up in the middle of the night to tend to a sweating, aching, poorly Buck Buckley writhing in the bunk room like a sick dog. Suggests a midol with a tired, saccharine scoff - surprisingly effective.
There's a family dinner tersely paused for him to collect himself in the bathroom. Chris slides in with him and sits at his side. Nods slowly when Buck assures him he's okay and he just needs a minute, my gut is killing me, Superman. Chris puts his hand on Buck's belly, right over the navel where Buck is gripping himself through aches and shivers, and hums. "Sounds like it's a girl," he says in his best attempt at sage advice through a corny smile.
Takes a pregnancy test just to quell the vibrating against his innards and - oh.
Negative.
Obviously, because of course.
That dinner finishes with no more interruptions. He comes back to the table and his plate is rearranged to account for only the light options - a couple rolls, buttered, and a small portion array of lightly seasoned vegetables and white rice. Mostly the things Bobby made as sides for the kids and Karen who's on some new diet that leaves her so dramatically exhausted Hen has to make her plate and bring her wine to the table. He pops out the single dose midol from the stash deep in his back pocket and eats slowly under Eddie and Maddie's matching looks of concern.
Maddie says she's pregnant and that's - that's it, right? For sure. Maybe there’s a part of him that lives in this unborn baby - okay, rephrase, maybe there’s a part of him that lives in this unborn baby. The words are chalky in his mouth and fuzzy in his head. Maybe there’s - . OK, Maddie’s his sister, of course there’s a part of him -. No, okay. Sympathy pains. A phantom pregnancy. Because there’s a part of him that lives in this unborn baby. Shit, that's not right. Maddie’s pregnant and there’s -
There’s a beer in front of him and he turns it away. Eddie raises his eyebrow. "Because of the baby," he says like fact and wraps his arms around his middle.
Her pregnancy goes swimmingly, nary a complication to be had, and in the meantime Eddie moves and Buck can’t make friends and he has to break up with his not-boyfriend and Bobby dies and therapy is expensive and stupid and the ingredients on his pre-cooked zoodle packs change and Buck's fine. His body still buzzes and his insides jolt like they’re melting and melding into his skin and he feels like he’s dying and he thinks he might have developed superpowers. Takes on daring rescues and saves the life of everyone he swoops in to save. Cries himself to sleep, get up, save someone’s life, go to Bobby’s funeral or drop off Jee at her big sister classes or run 15 mile at the gym or volunteer at the rescue or sit in silence and wonder why the shocks of fire inside him burn brighter when he doesn’t facetime Eddie. Goes home, eats zoodles that don’t taste right, writhe in a hungry emptiness, cries himself to sleep.
The earth shifts and still, he feels –
Then Eddie's there, and they setup the zip and Buck's not gonna make it, there's too much falling around them, the feeling in his gut is hardening like it's all new and hot and fresh inside him and Ravi's already made it, thank god, he can be there for them, he can do the heroic rescues and join in the joking and fill the space Buck will leave and -
He slams into Eddie's waiting arms.
There’s a distinct snap inside him, like he's destroyed a glow stick. Ignores it, unabashedly, wantonly, to meet Eddie's eyes and match his smile, canines meet dimple.
Eddie's says, it's what Buck would have done and his hands are still anchoring Buck from every side while the men around them start freeing him from the harness. They're glued together, eye to eye, and Buck helps them free his body until it's standing new like a fresh and uncoordinated deer when Eddie holds him at arms length and huffs another laugh.
"All you," Buck finds himself choking it off. All yours is what he’s saying inside Eddie's head, and Eddie meets him with a similar choked off sound, pushing him away lightly and holding his fist out for a friendly bump. Buck meets it, and they're interrupted by Ravi tackling Eddie in a hug, then Eddie holds it out again. A lightly closed fist, a tight promise. Buck meets it easily. Unwavering.
Neither pull their hand back. Then Eddie's grinning, all toothy and breathy, and he pulls Buck in again.
And that night they replay the moment, Eddie on the couch holding out his hand and Buck in the doorway, adrenaline pumping, until he travels that distance with the same pounding heart and they rest. Chest to chest, face to face, and finally dick to ass when that pounding in his gut gets too hot and Eddie strips him to get his hands in there and scratch the itch. It's nice here, on the couch, his thighs stretched and aching where he has them bracketing Eddie's own. His head is buried in Eddie's neck so he can lick away the new beads of sweat that roll down their skin, Eddie's hands gripping his hips while they work his body in unfamiliar but welcome motions. He buzzes and Eddie thrusts and its heaven, again and again. And again and again and again and again.
Eddie's solid under him, so solid it makes his insides vibrate. That buzzing, the now long familiar feeling bopping around his empty space with the same fervor as Eddie's giving him. It builds with him, keeps him warm when Eddie's groaning and grunting and whispering sweet promises in his ear. Reaches a fever pitch when he comes, clasped around Eddie who talks him through it with choked promises and tears that mix with the sweat beading into Buck's mouth clamped down on his neck.
Buzzes everywhere – from his gut to his toes to his fingers to his teeth where they grasp and gnash and pull on Eddie’s skin.
He adjusts, cum smearing like paint, until he's not sat but not hovering and Eddie moves his hold so theres one hand on the small of Buck's back and one pressed down on his belly. Eddie's pinky folds into his belly button as they press down into the cum on his belly and Buck growls, something he can't control, until Eddie's fucking into him from an angle so unholy he wants to drop to his knees and thank god for free will, big gulps, and bigger dicks.
And then things - they get better.
Eddie says he's going to move back and Bobby's still dead but Robby's here, 6lbs 4oz of nothing and everything. Hen takes the captain position on an interim basis and reminds them this isn’t forever, even as Eddie slots into her paramedic spot and Buck starts calling for Ravi instead of Eddie. Eddie and Chris move in and Buck tries to move out but things are better not right, and the lighting in one apartment gives him headaches and the smell of the BBQ joint near the other makes him queasy and the only one that'll take him with his credit history is painted a zigzagging mauve and eggshell that reminds him of copper in his mouth and dread in his belly.
So he sleeps on Eddie's couch, lies awake remembering the feel of Eddie in and on and all around him as the other man snoozes peacefully down the hall. Eventually he finds himself dragged down the same hall, pushed gently onto the mattress and held as tight as an heirloom. It happens once, then again, then he's hot everywhere at the thought of leaving.
Eddie kisses his birthmark and tells him he's home.
He wonders, in the still night, when that buzzing, gripping, consuming feeling stopped. When it stopped feeling empty inside, when that threat to collapse inward ran off with a bindle to its name. Wonders later, when he’s disconnected from the thought, why his stomach hurts all the time now. Or why he's flashing hot some nights. Why his skin is sensitive and he doesn't - can't accept Eddie looking at him too deeply without busting into streams of tears.
Jee Yun and Chris get on and they never complain to spend a day together while Maddie recovers and jokes "three men and a baby" then apologizes when Jee Yun stomps her foot for the crime of being called a baby. When they're together they watch movies a little too old for her and a little too young for him and Buck treats them both for putting up with each other. I know you do it for me he says with a happy, grateful little laugh.
"For mommy's free time," Jee grumbles, hair bouncing in space buns as she refuses to walk in a single direction. As if the time is free and not forged, hours spent sitting still and soothing back to life a body that made another. Jee Yun sucks down her gogurt all the same.
Chris is giggling, a childish sound ripped from his crackling vocal chords. They've been sharing after school snacks and its Jee Yun’s turn on the unofficial wheel of them all, bubblegum and raspberry tubes plaguing Buck's olfactory senses. Better than the cheese cubes that made him puke, or the pasta Eddie made them once that left the rest satiated while Buck stood in front of the mirror and tried not to balk at the way he bloats with the carbs. Jee trips on her way across the sidewalk and Chris offers her the rest of his half-frozen gogurt before she can burst into tears.
"You're really good with Jee, ya know." Buck tells Chris that same night. The three of them are all bundled up and warm, Buck on one side and Chris on the other with Eddie in the middle, fallen back against the couch with an arm around each of their shoulders and his mouth wide open as he snoozes. Theres a nature documentary on the TV that Chris is really into. Buck's crowded on his boyfriend's side, all attention to the TV turned instead to Chris so he can marvel at the boy.
The teen hums one of those yeah don’t mention it sounds without turning his way. Buck tuts, adjusts. He's put on a little weight, not enough to panic, but enough that his skin feels extra sensitive and the thought of pushing that new mound into the hard body next to him turns him green. He reaches out and puts a hand on Chris's arm.
"I'm serious. You're such a good kid, ya know, and she adores you. Thank you for being there for her right now, and me. It means a lot." There’s whispers of tears in his eyes.
Chris looks at him, an eyebrow up. He lowers the volume on the TV and Eddie snorts at that, jolting a little then settling back into barely-there snores. Chris pats the hand on his arm then reaches out himself, hand awkwardly landing on Buck's belly.
"Practice for my little sister," he says with a small laugh. Like it's a secret.
Buck takes a pregnancy test the next day, free of the buzzing and burning inside him.
Oh.