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Buck's heart trips in his chest as Eddie leans forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. A week has been nowhere near enough time to adjust to this. The this being the kissing, the holding, the loving. From Eddie, specifically.
In fact, Buck's pretty sure that if the last seven days are any indication, he's never going to get used to it. Never wants to. He'd quite like the butterflies in his stomach to take up residence for the long run, actually. Make a down payment, take out a mortgage, raise a large family of tummy butterflies. Buck smiles against Eddie's mouth and their teeth knock together as Eddie smiles in reply. God, Buck loves him. He pulls away to speak, about to ask if Eddie's butterflies are also considering making an organ a home, but his cruel and traitorous boyfriend takes the opportunity to step back into the open doorway.
Buck doesn't pout.
"No need to pout," Eddie grins and Buck sighs. "I'll be back with Chris before you know it."
Keys in hand and a placatingly wistful expression on his face, the love of Buck's life gives him a wink and heads towards the truck. Buck sighs again, feeling a sudden kinship with the women of yesteryear who would stare forlornly out of their windows waiting for their husbands to return from the Great War. The stakes might be much lower, Eddie is merely making a roundtrip to collect Chris from a sleepover, but the longing is definitely on par, of that Buck is certain.
As he stares at the now Eddie-less driveway, he distantly thinks that he should probably make a start on breakfast. Theo's at his most hungry first thing in the morning and, considering he's slept in well past his usual dawn rise, he will probably be all the more insatiable for it. Today though, Buck is unbothered by this almost certain eventuality. He'll even go as far as to deem the hangry toddler he'll soon be managing worth it, as the lie-in allowed Buck and Eddie to say a proper goodbye at the door, no sneaking around behind a child's back required. Hopefully, the sneaking around is, in fact, now all together finished with. That's what they have decided. That's the thing that has Buck most looking forward to Eddie's return.
The plan.
Hiding their relationship from Theo was never for the long term—hell, Eddie told Chris before it even started, wanting blessings and permissions before Buck and Eddie altered the dynamic he had been accustomed to for the last eight years. (Chris had just laughed and asked him what exactly was really going to change, no please, tell him, because from his point of view they were already mushy, ridiculous, and unbearable about each other. Teenagers.) Regardless, Buck and Eddie agreed to give themselves a week to settle into their new normal, which yes, hasn't been all that new or abnormal—thank you, Christopher—before they tell Theo.
Surprisingly, considering how fast he can move, Theo has failed to walk (or run, or leap, or bound) in on anything incriminating. In fact, the weakest link has been Chris. The fifteen year old argued that he's just so unbothered by the change that it didn't occur to him that his teasing jabs were less like jokes and more like neon signal flares highlighting Buck and Eddie's very real relationship. Follow-up from the defendent reasoned that Theo finding out early would hardly be the end of the world—Theo's obsession with the Diazes is all-encompassing at this point. Chris's closing statement declared that there's no version of the world where Theo is putout by the idea of Eddie and Chris being around even more than they already are. Fortunately, the child in question remained oblivious, despite having been present for a good portion of Chris's criminal hearing, before he got bored and wandered off to the garden to 'be a ank-nee-o-sawus princess ruling over the bugs'.
Regardless, the week is up. The plan is to tell Theo after breakfast, when the beast that resides inside the child's stomach between the hours of awake and asleep is momentarily sated. Ah yes, breakfast. Making. Probably time to wake Theo too, Buck thinks. He's parentified enough now to know that bedtime will be a mess and the knock-on affects could last days if he flies to close to the slumbering preschooler sun. As Buck considers his watch and does some wake window math he realises that, actually, Theo's never slept in this late before.
And the moment the thought crosses his mind, he hears what can only be described as an anguished wail from behind him.
Spinning on his heel, Buck is met with the sight of Theo, more specifically, Theo's small face poked around the corner of the hallway. There are tears splashing down his cheeks and his brows are dipped in the middle, straddling the line between distraught and furious. Buck's heart is immediately in his throat, searching for signs that Theo is injured or ill or anything, but he looks whole. Whole and livid. Buck hasn't seen Theo like this in months. Meltdowns and dysregulation came in frequent bouts when he first came to Buck, par for the course for a child who'd just experienced the biggest loss of his life. Slowly they'd built a foundation of trust and openness. Buck had developed strategies to help Theo through these moments. He's been doing so well. Fuck, has Buck missed something?
Like his escaping heart is trying to leap its way to his kid, the rest of Buck's body follows but—
"No," Theo screams as Buck steps forward. Buck freezes. "No you can't! You and Eddie can't."
And then he's gone.
Buck, with no time to ruminate on what's just been yelled at him, scrambles after Theo, who's vanished from the entryway like he's being hunted for sport. If it wasn't for the guttural sobs coming from the far bedroom, Buck wouldn't be sure where to follow. Theo's bedroom door is flung wide open, still wobbling slightly on its hinges from the force of a four year old's rage. Rage? Buck isn't sure anymore. At this very moment, the tiny figure curled up on his pillow only looks sad.
Sad is actually an understatement. As Buck pauses in the doorway to gasp around a breath, he takes in the vibrating body, the wet face, the panicked breathing. Buck realises Theo isn't sad. He's heartbroken.
Moving slowly, glacial in a way that is foreign to both people in the room, Buck approaches the edge of Theo's bed.
"Theo, I'm going to sit down here, okay?" Buck says, struggling to keep his voice low and calm whilst battling both his own terror and the volume of Theo's cries. "I'm here. I'm here, I've got you. You're so sad, baby, I know." He doesn't touch him, doesn't know if it's what Theo needs right now.
They stay like this for a while; Theo almost completely face down on his bed, knees tucked up, Buck perched by his side taking obvious slow breaths, hoping Theo will remember how to copy them. After what feels like an eon of Buck loudly breathing, although it's doing little to regulate his own nervous system right now, Theo's inhales start to match. His crying quietens and then stops, even as the occasional shake continues to rock him.
"Good job, bud." Relief briefly floods Buck's body as he watches Theo work his way back to baseline. It's short lived as he realises he still needs to get to the bottom of whatever 'he and Eddie can't' means. "Do you think you can tell me what made you so upset?"
Slowly, Theo rolls sideways, face now only half obscured as he presses his whispers into the pillow.
"You and Eddie can't kiss."
Buck has a brief, shameful moment where he truly believes his four year old might be secretly homophobic before Theo continues.
"You—You can't because mommy and daddy kissed. They kissed all the time a-a-and then they went away." Theo's voice trembles again, his whole body quickly following suit. Buck's insides are being methodically scraped out as he watches Theo's tiny form shake apart. He feels useless. He can't follow Theo's line of logic. He can't do anything to help.
"Honey," Buck finally gets out, "Kissing didn't take your mom and dad away."
It's the wrong thing to say, though for the life of him, Buck can't figure out why. Tears immediately fill Theo's eyes again and his voice crackles as he screams.
"It did! It happened to Kiss-pher's mommy, too. He told me!"
Gripping his hair with both fists, Theo starts to pull in frustration. Buck immediately grasps both of the boy's wrists, slipping his thumbs between Theo's hair and his palms to gently rub at the skin there.
"Shh, baby," Buck murmurs, furiously blinking back his own tears. He refuses to let his own fear get in the way of comforting Theo. "Okay, okay. What exactly did Chris say?"
Buck can't imagine any scenario where Christopher told Theo that his parents died because they loved each other. There's a crossed wire here that Buck needs to straighten.
Theo's hold slowly loosens and Buck models some more deep breaths as he lowers the small hands in his to Theo's chest. Buck can see his eyes again and almost wishes he couldn't. They're red raw, a wet sheen covering his lashes, and haunted in a way you would expect from a war vet, not a child.
"Kiss said his mommy went away." Theo's voice is small again, tired. Like yoyo-ing between these outbursts is draining him despite having only just woken up. "She went away because of a car as well."
A gaping sadness opens in the pit of Buck's stomach as he thinks about everything Chris and Theo have lost. How unfair the world is to have taken so much from them, so young.
"Yeah, she did," Buck replies softly. He's not sure how much he should be telling Theo but if it's causing this much pain and confusion, he figures some information is important. "Her name was Shannon, Chris's mom."
Theo nods minutely and Buck continues.
"Eddie's wife."
But for some reason, this last fact sets Theo off again. Tears once again start streaming down his face in rivets as he struggles against where their four hands are collectively bundled at his sternum. Releasing them, Buck quickly moves to gather Theo up in his arms. Encircling him, Buck gently squeezes, applying light pressure evenly over the surface of Theo's back. His small stature means Buck can reach far enough around him to steadily compress Theo's upper arms too.
It hadn't taken new-foster-parent-Buck long to realise how well Theo responds to deep pressure. He'd made it pretty obvious the moment he'd nearly crushed himself trying to wiggle under Buck's 10kg weighted blanket and yet emerged more settled than ever. It's not as immediately effective now, in Theo's extremely volatile state, but he does gradually start to slow his movements. The jerky wriggling to try to grip his hair again ceases and his breathing evens out as he slumps into Buck's hold.
For a moment Buck thinks he's fallen asleep, but then Theo gulps an inhale and speaks again.
"Shannon used to kiss Eddie."
Oh.
Oh shit.
"You can't kiss Eddie because then you'll go away too," Theo whispers into Buck's shoulder. A shiver wracks them but it's impossible to tell which body it comes from. He feels numb.
"A car will take you away." Theo's breathing hitches again. Buck's answers in kind, like there's an innate response inside of him that experiences and acts on everything Theo is feeling.
"Please, Buck. I don't want you to be gone."
There's terror in Theo's tiny voice, distraught at something that hasn't happened but his past experiences have brought him to the only logical conclusion a child can come to.
If Buck and Eddie are in love, then Buck is going to die.
The butterflies from earlier, the Eddie butterflies, had hidden themselves away somewhere around Buck's intestines at Theo's first cry. Now, they start to shrivel up. They're dying, Buck thinks. Well, with Theo's logic, either the butterflies go or Buck does. If Theo isn't okay with the kaleidoscope inside Buck, then the lepidopterarium is closed.
Buck lets himself gets lost in the metaphor for a moment longer, a deliberate escape to prolong the inevitable. Better to focus on sweeping away the butterfly carcasses than on what it really means—breaking Buck's heart. Because that's really the only course of action here. He's not about to sacrifice Theo's happiness for Buck's own. Theo will always come first, just like Christopher will always come first. Buck and Eddie's hearts be damned.
"Okay, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere." A few tears escape his eyes and land in Theo's hair. He feels corresponding drops splash onto his forearm. They're dancing a choreographed routine of shared grief. Buck briefly pictures them dancing, really dancing, at his and Eddie's wedding. An hour ago he'd be experiencing some internal scolding for getting ahead of himself. Now, it doesn't seem like there's anything to get ahead of.
"B-but if you ki—,' Theo starts, but Buck cuts him off.
"Then I won't." He feels the first splinter in his chest. "If me and Eddie k—Hm, if me and Eddie kissing makes you sad, makes you worried, then we won't."
Theo takes his first big breath of the morning, the last of the tension finally leaving his body. The crack in Buck's heart starts to spiderweb.
Then there's the familiar clack of crutches on the porch and Eddie's concerned voice echoes down the hall to them.
"Front door was open. Buck, everything okay?"
Theo screams. Theo's never screamed because of Eddie. Shrieked in joy? Yes. Immediately leapt into his open arms at the sight of him? Constantly. But fear? Never.
Eddie is barrelling into the room in an instant. Buck watches him take in the scene, panic etched into the lines on his face. Like he's about to find some horrendous crime scene or harrowing disaster. Harrowing is an apt description, Buck thinks. Theo's clutching at Buck's shoulders, sobbing loudly into the air, whilst either nature or gravitational force seems to being trying its hardest to pull him towards Eddie. It's like there's a war raging inside of Theo. Desperate to go to Eddie, terrified to let him anywhere near Buck. In the end he shakes free of Buck's hold and slides down into a heap on the floor, landing slumped between the two men.
"What—," Eddie starts, and then immediately stops when Theo's body jolts in response to his voice. Buck's going to be sick, but all he can actually do is take what he forces himself to believe is a steadying breath and looks up at Eddie.
"He saw us," Buck's voice trembles, barely a whisper. He's not sure if he's trying to keep Theo from hearing it or Eddie. "When you left. He saw us kiss, Eddie. And—And he thinks if we—if we're together, then I'm gonna go away."
Theo cries out.
"Like mommy and daddy and Shannon."
Eddie looks momentarily stunned, processing what he's just heard. Then Buck watches as his shoulders drop, watches the light leave his eyes. He knows Eddie's reached the same conclusion as him.
And it's done. Buck's heart is broken, split right down the middle. Him and Theo on one side, Eddie and Chris on the other.
"I'm sorry," is all Buck can say, as tears start to slip down his cheeks once more. He sees Eddie's hand jerk and his body sway, like he's instinctually about to wipe them away, and then he stops himself. A small sob escapes from Buck's mouth. He tries to catch it behind his palm but he's not quick enough. He watches Eddie's heart break in real time, too.
Buck drags his gaze away from Eddie's trembling jaw, down to the small heap of child on the floor. Before Buck can slip off the bed to comfort him though, Chris emerges from behind the doorway. From the devastated look on the teenager's face, he's clearly been listening to the whole conversation.
"Guess I was wrong about him being pleased," Chris whispers from the threshold, refusing to make eye contact with Buck.
Buck's chest aches with the need to tell him that this isn't his fault, that this isn't anything anyone could have predicted, that trauma doesn't always make sense or act rationally. He doesn't though. He knows Chris already knows all of this. Instead, all Buck can do is watch as Chris slowly steps into the room, leaning against the doorframe and then Eddie as he does so. Buck sees Chris gently squeeze his dad's forearm before he uses it to leverage himself onto the floor in front of the puddle formerly known as Theo.
"Hey, Theo," Chris says, softly.
"Kiss-pher?" Theo mumbles into the carpet, sounding lost. Then his head jerks up with a wail. "Kiss!"
Theo throws himself up and forward into Chris's already outstretched arms. The older boy bundles him up in his lap, managing to half wrap the unbuttoned sides of his flannel around his small body. Theo nestles his nose in the side of his neck as Chris looks up between Eddie and, eventually, Buck, giving them a weak, tremulous smile.
Buck hides another sob in his fist again and this time Eddie does move to him. Buck is powerless to stop him from gently cupping his face, shaking thumbs wiping away the tears almost as fast as they fall.
As if sensing their interaction from where he's hidden in Chris's shoulder, Theo begins to lift his head but Chris intercepts. Bringing his hands up, he holds them against Theo's ears, dampening any outside noise and bringing them eye to eye.
"It is scary sometimes, Theo," Chris begins, and Buck has no idea where he's going with this but he's aware that there are very few people in the world he truly trusts with Theo's emotional wellbeing and Chris ranks extremely highly on that exclusive list. "To love someone and be scared of losing them. And it's sad if you do lose them."
Eddie's hands fall away from Buck's face and he turns towards Chris as his son's words punch a gasp out of him. Buck takes Eddie's right hand in his left, tugs lightly, encouraging Eddie to take a seat next to him on the bed's edge. He complies wordlessly, doing so without taking his eyes off of the boys on the floor.
Theo's body starts to shake again but Chris just rocks them slightly, hands still encompassing the sides of his head, and faintly shushes him. Buck sees Theo force a huge breath, and even through his haze of devastation, he's so proud of him.
"You were sad when your mommy went away," Theo says eventually. It's not a question, it's more like he's confirming that he's right, that they've both been sad. Chris nods, tightly. "Sorry, Kiss."
There's something about Theo only being able to say Chris's name like that, like 'kiss', like the thing that started all of this, that makes this all the more painful.
Chris swallows loudly but continues.
"Yeah, Theo, I was sad. Dad was too. We were both really sad, for a long time."
"I'm still sad that mommy and daddy are gone," Theo sniffs.
If Buck had any heart left to break, it would. All that's left of it now is a fine powder, ground down under the weight of four lifetimes of loss.
"I'm so sorry they're gone." Chris sniffs too, just like Theo; shakes his head to push away the tears, just like Eddie. "It's so sad that these people we love so much are gone. But," Chris pauses, resting his forehead against Theo's, "We haven't stopped loving them, have we?"
Buck and Eddie's intertwined hands squeeze tightly, both of them acting on the same need simultaneously. This might be over before it's even begun, but Buck knows that the way they feel about each other, the way they love each other, is unending. Eternal. The butterflies will live on in the ether.
Theo shakes his head, curls brushing against Chris's as he does so.
"And that love? That fills you up, makes you happy and sad and everything else? It's so special because it's always with you, even when they're not here. Especially when they're not here." A few tears weasel their way out of Chris's eyes and Theo slips a tiny hand up between them to wipe them away. Buck hears Eddie's throat hitch.
"Mommy and daddy are always with me. Buck says that at bedtime." Buck's nodding before Theo's finished speaking, even though he's not paying any attention to Buck. His focus remains entirely on Christopher.
"They are," Chris agrees, "And even though you can't see them, they still love you, Theo. So much."
Buck's not religious but in this moment he sends a prayer to Connor and Kameron. He prays that they know how many people are in their son's corner. He prays that they know much love he has in his life, living and not. He prays that they're happy.
"And they still love each other?" Theo asks quietly, leaning back slightly like he needs to see Chris's full expression to confirm.
There's a faint flutter somewhere around the still yawning maw inside Buck. The ashes of his heart hesitantly begin to clump together.
"Mhm," Chris smiles, weak but there. "They still love each other. Almost as much as they still love you."
"Does Shannon still love you, Eddie?" Theo finally looks up at the two of them, glancing briefly at their joined hands.
Buck momentarily worries that even the sight of Buck and Eddie comforting each other will undo the progress Chris has made, but Theo just inhales deeply and meets Eddie's gaze. Buck catches Eddie's eyebrows soften proudly out of the corner of his eye at Theo's self-regulation. Buck loves him so much.
"I think so," Eddie answers honestly. "We weren't very in love. We hoped we were, but it was…tricky."
Buck knows he's toeing the line of avoiding lying to Theo whilst also protecting him from the age-inappropriate ins and outs of repression, teen pregnancy, and a somewhat forced marriage. The ever present need to be as forthcoming with him as he was with Chris when they had a similar discussion during Eddie's coming out, to respect Theo's intelligence and his right to know this information so he can process what he's feeling properly, driving Eddie to answer with the truth.
Theo tilts his head, like a puzzled puppy, but waits for Eddie to continue.
"But, even though we weren't in love, I loved her. I still love her, every day." Eddie slips off of the bed and onto his knees next to the bundle of boys on the floor, gently tugging Buck down with him. "And I know that Shannon knows I still love her, so I hope she still loves me."
Eddie's free hand reaches forward to momentarily cup the back of Chris's head, gently tugging on a curl like he's checking in on his son's emotional state at having to hear this again. Buck sees Chris lean into the touch in reassurance and then move to the side to let his dad's hand continue towards Theo. His index finger softly brushes down the length of the boy's button nose, then his thumb lifts to honk the tip. A giggle breaks free from Theo's mouth for the first time all morning. Buck thinks he feels a few weak flaps in his stomach, getting stronger.
"She was my best friend," Eddie finishes, hand moving to cup Theo's cheek.
Theo is still for a moment, before he pulls back from the touch and, somewhat indignantly, huffs on Buck's behalf.
"Buck is your best friend!"
Eddie exhales a quiet laugh.
"He is, you're right."
Buck lifts his gaze from where it had been locked on Theo to meet the eyes he already knows are looking at him. Eddie's lash line is wet, his brow is tilted sadly, but he's smiling. Buck's hand raises of its own volition, thumb coming up to run over the crinkles at the outer corner of his eye before lowering to brush at the mole beneath.
"Eddie's my best friend, too," Buck says, unable to look away from the man in question. "I love him, with everything I have."
Buck's not sure he meant to be quite that honest but can't find it in himself to regret it when Eddie's eyes widen for a moment and then practically disappear as the smile on his face grows impossibly broad, all traces of sadness and fear eradicated.
He hears a small "yuck" from Chris, which he ignores, and then a smaller sniff from Theo, which he immediately turns to address. Once again, despite his mostly false and played up disgust, Chris has the moment covered.
"And I'm scared too, sometimes," he starts, "That dad and Buck are going to go away."
Theo's jaw wobbles, Eddie's tightens, and Chris barrels on before anyone can ruminate too hard.
"But getting to love them, them getting to love me, and you," Chris knocks his forehead against Theo's again, slightly firmer than before, like he's trying to push this information into his head, like a brother would. "Them getting to love each other? Makes me so much happier than scared."
Buck feels the outline of his heart reshape and one brave butterfly with glasses and a curly mop of hair takes a tentative flight across his abdomen. He and Eddie may have but briefly discussed how their relationship translates into a shared parenthood of two, but fuck does Buck love their kid. And despite having only been in Chris's life for eight years, he knows he's loved him forever. He will go on loving him forever. He was built for this, he thinks—being Chris and Theo's dad. A second sniff draws him back to the moment at hand.
"Oh." Theo looks between Buck and Eddie and his mouth twitches, like it's unsure if it wants to frown or smile. Buck's own lips quirk in an assimilation of a grin, meant to be reassuring. It's clearly not, as Chris rolls his eyes.
"Buck and I have each other's backs," Eddie cuts in, before a sarky teenage continuation can occur. "We promised we would on the day we met. We promised Chris the same thing a long time ago, when he was scared."
Eddie and Chris's eyes meet and Buck knows that they're thinking about the shooting. Thinking about how Buck would wake up on the couch in the dark hours of the morning to simultaneous screams from both Diaz bedrooms. How Buck would run to Chris's room first, gather the boy in his arms and carry him, shushing as he went, to his dad's bed. How he would wrap them up in each other, stroke his shaking hands through their hair until the nightmares stopped. How, in the cold light of day, they would sit huddled together in the middle of Eddie's bed and swear they would stop at nothing to bring each other home to Chris.
"I think, Theo," Eddie murmurs, "We need to promise the same to you. To always fight to come back to you."
Theo's eyes close for a moment and he leans forward to press his head to Chris's, rubbing his skull side to side vigorously, as he processes the only way he knows how, extremely physically. Buck holds his breath, the butterflies do too.
Theo breathes deeply and then sits back in Chris's lap.
"Okay," is all he says.
Slowly, Theo reaches out his hand to hold it between the four of them. He frowns at his closed fist, jerks a few fingers up and then back down, and then, like Buck knows he's seen him and Maddie do, he extends his pinky finger.
A throng of butterflies erupt in Buck's stomach, in numbers tenfold from their previous count earlier that morning. His little finger is wrapped around Theo's before he even realises his hand has moved. Eddie's and then Chris's pinkies quickly join them and then they're all beaming at each other and their intertwined hands.
"I promise," Eddie says, voice firm and words deliberate, "I will always, always, do everything I can to come home to you. To you all. My boys."
Theo's grin is blinding as he gazes up at Eddie in awe, like he's Theo's own personal superhero who's here to rescue him from anything he could possibly be scared of. In all honesty, it's Theo's usual expression when looking at Eddie. Back to normal then, Buck thinks. Thank god.
Chris smiles wetly at his dad and goes next.
"I promise to always be here when you need me." He brings their collective pinkies up to gently poke Theo under the chin. He giggles immediately. "I've got your back."
Buck can barely breathe for the love inside him. It's banging on his ribs trying to get out. He lets it.
"I promise," he croaks, takes a moment and squeezes their conjoined fingers, "I promise, I will love you. I will love you, Theo. I will love you, Chris. I will love you, Eddie. With my whole heart. Wherever I am. Forever."
He looks at them all, eyes meeting his. Smiling, tearful, trusting. He knows they're in this for the long run. This is it. His whole future laid out before him. It's all he's ever wanted.
"My family."
Eddie chokes out a happy sob and Chris tips sideways to rest against his dad, rubbing fiercely at his eyes with his free hand. Theo is, as a product of still sitting on Chris, automatically brought with him. Buck is helpless but to join them, pushing his head forward until the four of them are bowed together, hands clasped below, presiding over the ritual of their undivided, unequivocal, unconditional love.
Then, Theo's usual movements begin to return. The soft period of still is interrupted as he starts to vibrate excitedly in Chris's lap. They all pull back in response, hands finally releasing, as Buck prepares himself for whatever feat of acrobatics Theo is about to demonstrate after having sat motionless for so long. Chris shifts nervously with the child in his lap, clearly aware he isn’t just in the danger zone, he is the danger zone. They wait, but Theo doesn't leap, or roll, or wildly swing his arms out in an approximation of a Spiderman pose as he is so often wont to do.
Instead, he giggles.
And then he speaks.
"Okay, you can kiss Buck."
Eddie barks a laugh as Chris sighs in relief over not getting flattened by a hyperactive four year old. It's all butterflies all the way down for Buck at this point.
"Thanks, baby. I will," Eddie replies, reaching over to smush Theo's cheeks.
Theo doesn't smile. In fact, he doesn't do much of anything. Buck's butterflies start to land, like they're bracing for impact. He can see Eddie also beginning to grow concerned, eyes darting around Theo's face like something will give away the reason for the sudden seriousness. Only Chris is still smiling, hand pressed to his forehead like he's preemptively embarrassed over something.
"Now."
Oh.
Theo clambers off of Chris's lap to stand directly in front of Buck and Eddie, looking sternly between them as Chris cackles behind his hands, both now having risen to fully obscure his eyes.
"Well, if he insists," Eddie murmurs, and pulls Buck in by the chin before he's fully finished speaking.
The second their lips meet, Theo is squealing. Buck smiles into Eddie's mouth as Chris’s laughter turns to groans next to them. Buck slides a hand into the back of Eddie's hair, holding them together as they breathe each other in. Not even an hour ago, Buck was certain he would never get to do this again. Now, he can't help but tug Eddie's lower lip into his mouth, biting gently, confirming that this is happening, it's real, it's forever. Eddie's other hand comes up to brush against Buck's birthmark, rubbing it like it's a lucky penny. It might be. He feels pretty fucking lucky.
Buck can hear Theo's delighted footsteps as he leaps around the room. Floor to bed to desk chair to what Buck thinks is the chest of drawers. Thank god it's bolted to the wall. He hears Chris push himself to stand, presumably still covering his eyes with one hand, and start walking towards the door. He feels Eddie's tongue run along the seam of his lips, thinks one of the butterflies has ascended through his oesophagus and is flitting around behind his teeth. Maybe if he opens his mouth, it will fly into Eddie's. They can share them. Share a life and children and butterflies. Before he's given a chance to test the theory, Buck is interrupted.
Theo's stomach growls. Loud.
Eddie pulls back to look at him, ignoring Buck's low grumbled complaints, even as he, too, turns his head toward Theo.
"You hungry, bud?" Eddie asks.
"Hmmm, yeah." Theo stares down at his abdomen, teeth bared like he's annoyed his bodily functions have interrupted this moment. Buck winces, recognising the hanger. "My tummy needs breakfast. NOW!"
Chris sighs from the doorway.
"Probably should have fed him when this all started," Chris gripes. "Could have avoided half the snot covering my shirt right now."
Buck hangs his head, silently agreeing. Eddie just huffs a laugh and stands, pulling Buck to his feet as he does so. An arm winds around Buck's waist and he smiles as Eddie squeezes reassuringly.
"Come on, boys. Breakfast time," Eddie says and begins to shepherd the four of them towards the kitchen.
There isn't time for anything elaborate, not given how high the sun already is in the sky, the emotional toll of the morning, and the ever growing ferality of the preschooler. So, they settle on four heaping bowls of cereal and sit, gathered around the table, Buck and Theo on one side, Eddie and Chris on the other. Eddie tangles his ankles with Buck’s as soon as they're sitting. Chris flicks a cornflake at Theo's head and Theo screams with laughter when he throws one back at Chris, who catches it on his tongue.
And Buck sits with his family, drifting in and out of familiar conversation.
He's busy opening a butterfly garden.
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